Chapter 11
“Out,” Edward barked at the women in Lily’s chamber, and they leapt away like a herd of deer alarmed at the approach of the hunt.
He slammed the door and bolted it behind them. The boom reverberated down the passage and through the hushed house that was only now beginning to rouse. Lily jumped almost out of her skin at the force behind it.
Edward glared at her, daring her to pit her wits against him further. He released her arm and stalked to the window embrasure.
Lily retreated to the corner farthest from him. “How did you know which chamber was mine?” she asked.
“Have I not told you that I am a careful man? Do you think I would not take every precaution before entering your father’s inhospitable den? Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the bench along the wall.
Pinching the top of his nose, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed some space between them because the urge to force her to his will was so strong it left him reeling.
On some level, he knew he would not. The cardinal rule of his life had been and would always be an abhorrence of those who used force against females. Little sisters in particular, the weary voice inside his head reminded him. She might not be little, or a sister, but she was a female.
Unwilling to either obey him or capitulate, Lily perched on the edge of her bed, almost the only other piece of furniture in the whole miserable chamber. If they were playing chess, she’d just played f3—a blunder only a novice would make.
What a mess she looked. Besides her appalling rags, one of the clogs she’d been wearing had fallen off. The stocking was rolling down almost to her ankle, tripping her as she walked.
It struck him then that he’d had high expectations of her. At seventeen and by all accounts a confined seventeen, he could hardly expect court sophistication from her.
Perhaps another time, he would have relented, softened his reprimand. It had been a grueling awakening for her in that forest.
At that moment, though, he felt her lure too keenly for his own comfort. He’d been battling against it, but having her body within inches of his own on that long ride to Keelington Court had worn through his defenses. He looked at her with narrow eyes.
“I’m going to tell you, Lily, how we’re going to proceed, you and me.
We will discuss your farcical disobedience another time.
I wager both of us are too weary for that debate.
But you need to know that our betrothal will take place today.
Your participation, enthusiastic or otherwise, is not debatable.
I will give you two choices. Think carefully on them.
And before you do, remember your response touches other lives than that of your own. ”
“How kind of you to remind me,” said Lily bitterly. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“Sarcasm does not suit you,” he snapped.
She was about to respond when he cut her off. “I would not make the mistake of compounding your rebellion by adding to it, if I were you.”
“Were I a rebel, my lord, I would have skewered you with my sword. Alas, all I have are my wits.”
“Your choices,” he drawled, ignoring her remark. “The first is to change out of that filthy rag you’re wearing, come downstairs with me, and fully engage in the formal proceeding of betrothal. The second is, again, to rid yourself of those rags and engage with me in a rather more informal way—”
“What?” she said, jumping to her feet. “Do you, do you mean what I think you mean?”
“Assuredly. I cannot think of a more expedient and delightful solution. Also, it will simplify my life and put beyond contestation our betrothal. And before you tell me you did not agree, answer me this—are you willing to defy your father?” He raised an eyebrow, but Lily remained silent.
“No,” he said, “I did not think so. Just so, this second choice provides the perfect solution. The church will demand we wed. The king will be satisfied, too.”
“Why must you force the—”
“Because I have endured enough of you and your family’s interfering schemes.”
“But that’s a horrible idea.”
He assessed her then, took a lazy journey around her face, the glorious tumble of her glossy hair that had long ago escaped the confines of her braid.
It had a golden sheen in places, he saw, with great shining skeins of rich chestnut that reached to her waist. He saw the pulse in her elegant neck, the slender curves beneath the tawdry dress, and the fire that had burned since he’d taken her up on his stallion sparked with renewed heat in his loins.
He did not think he could bear it further.
“I doubt very much, mam’selle, that you would find it horrible.” The moment he moved toward her, she leapt off the bed and backed away. “Either way, we will within the next hour be betrothed. Three weeks for the banns to be read. Yea, and marry, we will. Now choose.”
Lily looked at him. A wary creature, wild and beautiful.
“Perhaps,” he said more gently than he intended, “you have some other way you think to solve our dilemma?”
Her head jerked up. “You would consider my option?”
“I am not a barbarian. If you see a reasonable possibility, then by all means let’s hear it. So long as we understand here that our betrothal is going to take place.”
Her look said that savage was exactly what she thought of him, but she stopped where she stood.
A look of understanding stole into her expressive face.
“I-I just wanted you to know, the second choice is no choice at all. Nor is it… er… necessary. I know somewhat of male sensibilities and their jealousies.”
“You do?” he quipped, knowing that to be highly unlikely.
“Yes, I have brothers, you must not forget,” she said, smiling just a little. “That is, if your reason for the rush is what I think.”
“Indeed? Okay, tell me, what reason do you think I have for wanting to bed you?”
She frowned at his choice of phrasing. “You have said you are a careful man. You would not approve of me being alone with…with someone else. You wish to discover the truth. My promise, there was n-no indiscretion.”
“I know.”
“You—you do?” she said, her deep blue eyes widening.
Edward felt his temper soar once again. The vision of the Percy knave mistreating his lady disturbed him more each time he visited it.
His voice grew grim. Sharp. Going to her, he took her chin in his hand and coaxed her eyes to lift to his own. “I was there, Lily, on Percy’s tail. You were not alone with him for a moment. I had a pressing reason to hear his full confession, else I would have intervened sooner, be assured.”
“What reason?” she asked, astonished.
He ignored her question. “Suffice it to say, I witnessed every word you said to him. You do not have to prove to me that he didn’t touch you.”
In the silence, they might have heard the forest’s groan. It was but a trick of the wind. The night candle flickered and went out. Dawn’s dull greyness leaked into the chamber.
Lily shook her head. “Then you don’t need my assurances. You probably don’t even know what you do need, I certainly don’t.”
He grunted. “Believe me, I have no doubts about what I need.”
A faraway look flittered across her lovely face for a moment, and he wondered if she recalled the moment in Glumfell when he’d caught her up in his arms.
She’d seemed as weak with relief as he’d been. Edward rubbed the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and felt again her living pulse, the slightness of her sylph-like form. He thought his heart would shatter when she’d cried, trusting him in an unspoken vow to protect her, keep her safe.
He should not have allowed himself the moment, brief as it was, for she had thwarted him and that he could not allow. If she must learn his rule through the Black Raven’s tyranny, so be it.
But he needed to hold her again. He fought to keep his distance. “There is nothing I cannot take if I so choose. At least when it comes to you,” he said.
Lily stood as tall as she could, defiance in her expression. “So you say, but you cannot take my heart if I refuse to give it.”
“And I still say, we will wed, with your heart or not.”
“Then you should know, I shall protect my heart. You will never get it,” she said. “Never.”
“However that may be, know this,” he told her, “I am willing…nay eager to take you to Ravensworth the instant the contracts are signed. This very night, if need be. That will put you beyond interference with my wishes, beyond the reach of your family or anyone else, once and for all.”
“Y-you wouldn’t dare.”
The time for debate had passed, Edward decided. He reached for her. “We are both weary. May I propose a truce? “
“A truce?”
“Just until the ceremony is complete ?”
Lily responded to him in silence, her eyes glimmering with what looked to him like longing. She looked lost, so forlorn, he drew her into his arms. To his astonishment, and her own, no doubt, she went to him.
He answered for her, his golden gaze alive with expectation. Bending his head, he kissed her then, claiming her, setting his brand upon her. It was not a gentle kiss.
There was no beguiling seduction in mind. He had meant only to kiss her in token of their truce. He lost that game the moment he touched her lips.
Immediately, he took full possession, stealing her breath, tasting the nectar of her mouth. He gripped her head fast, claiming all she had and more. He plunged his tongue into the dark, sweet recesses of her mouth.
And then, to his further delight, his slender, beautiful Lily met his passion with her own.
Perhaps in her way, she needed reassurance.
He knew not, but her arms went around his neck, and she soothed his heated skin with her delicate fingers, telling him in unspoken language that she was his.
Perhaps her mind did not know it yet, but her heart did, even though she had promised he would never get it.
Her lips yielded fully to his, and her tongue tasted and dueled with his own. And still her fingers caressed his neck, his face, sliding tentatively over his shoulders. Everywhere she touched caught fire.
His free hand brushed the neckline of her dress, and his knowing fingers cupped the full mound of her breast. Exquisite. The creamy plumpness filled his hand, and he felt the response of his body as it soared. Under his play, her nipples contracted, hard and erect and velvet to the touch.
She made a soft sound in her lovely throat, but it was half desire, half protest, and he smiled in victory.
Crushing her to his chest, he reveled in the plush silk of her breasts where they touched him, the perfume of her hair that fell about them like a magic cloak.
He felt himself heavy with desire, rampant and unquenchable.
He had to have her.
He wanted to rid himself of the barriers between them.
There might not be time enough to fully disrobe, but some of the rags fell away.
She stood complacent in his arms in what was left of her shift, too dazed with pleasure to move.
He laid her gently on the bed and spread her glorious hair around her.
Then he stepped back and looked at her. Her slight, silken beauty made him catch his breath. “You are lovely, my lily flower,” he told her, and he slid his hands down her slender hips and cupped the enticing mound between her legs through the fabric of her shift.
She did not demur. She looked fascinated and almost surprised but not anxious, her unusual spirit evident again. Fast, he held her gaze. In that steady gleam, he silently promised her a haven for the heart she refused to give him.
The bed dipped as he joined her, gathering her to his chest and kissing her. He deepened the kiss, his lips seducing and pleasuring her. He soothed a path down her body and pushed the shift up over her waist. His hands journeyed over her flat stomach down into the small vale between her legs.
No more trailing fingers or ambiguous caresses, now his touch became sure and deliberate.
She protested his intrusion, but he seduced her mouth, his kiss wild with desire and determination. Her objections faltered.
His tongue tasted, thrusting inside her mouth at the very moment he slipped one long finger inside the delicate folds of her sex. He began to stroke and tease and ready her for him. Her heat, her silk, enchanted him.
“My flower,” he told her, and positioned himself between her legs to widen them so they lay on either side of his hips.
But still, he did not press himself on her.
He watched as she tried to concede to his will, as desire and modesty warred inside her.
He felt a surge of tenderness such as had never intruded in his life before.
He doubted that his conscience would be clear if he continued in her seduction, but he was not altogether certain that he could stop.
Even as he hovered, poised over her, and before his inner voice had a chance to decide, there came a rap at the door.
It was Sir Lanval.
“They are all gathered, my lord. The hour grows late. We are ready,” he called from the passageway.
“Anon, we will follow,” Edward said. With a sigh, he cupped Lily’s burning cheek and briefly kissed her brow. “Pardonne, chérie,” he said and stood up, adjusting his chausses.
He looked at her, amused by her chagrin, even as he fought to discipline his own rioting libido. He smiled and tipped up her chin. “We are well suited, you and I,” he told her softly. “Come rise, there will be time enough for dalliance later, I promise you.”
Lily felt humiliated; he could see. The cold reality of the knight’s voice at the door collided with the pleasure-soaked dreamland where he had deliberately taken her.
She was embarrassed by her own capitulation. No doubt her conscience pricked. Hastily, she scrambled to cover herself. “You reckless, arrogant, knave,” she cried, fighting to control herself.
Disappointment no doubt warred with desire, and she was a novice, he reminded himself. He chuckled inwardly at her bravado as well as her passion. It more than pleased him that his soon-to-be bride was not a cold maiden with ice in her veins.
He couldn’t help it, his smile broadened and that infuriated her even more. “You could simply take the second choice, you know? We could remain up here and go down later, much later, if you are so keen to finish what was started.”
“I’m not a fool, my lord,” she said bitterly. “Only men have choices. And I am not one and have no real choice.”
“No,” he said, “you don’t.”