Chapter 2
Two
LELAND
“You can’t be serious, Tilly.” Leland gripped the back of his neck. This woman was always causing him problems.
Even the sultry tone of her voice was an issue. One that he tried to hear past. “Just because you keep saying that, doesn’t make my feelings any less real. Any less significant.”
“That’s your problem, Tilly. You’re always thinking with your feelings.”
“And I suppose thinking like an iceberg is a better way to make decisions?” Iceberg. Right. That’s what he was right now, burning up on the inside about to combust, just from taking in the way the sun illuminated her sharp cheeks and framed her luscious lips.
“Just tell me what’s really going on and maybe I can help—help you figure out how to deal with it.”
Her hard stare almost had him offering her an embrace, he so hated to see her hurting, but he knew she wouldn’t accept that kindness from him.
The pause lasted so long he thought she might not answer him at all, but when she leaned back against the tree, kicking off her shit-stained slipper, he waited.
When she exhaled a ragged breath, he followed suit. Discreetly.
And when she tilted her head up to look him in the eyes, he met her dead on.
“There’s a scandal coming my way, and I can’t do a thing about it.”
He forced his feet to remain planted, trusting that years of friendship would trump the squabble they were having.
Over the years, they’d shared many memories.
The four of them. Him and his sister Etta, and Tilly and her brother Wilhem.
They had been thick as thieves, pranking their parents, their neighbors, and each other.
They’d spent countless hours fishing, riding horses, and eating together.
If he could be patient, show her that he was still that friend, surely she’d open up.
“What happened?”
“There was this…man in France.”
At the pained look in her face, he involuntarily stepped forward. “What did he do to you, Tilly? Did he touch you? I’ll break his—”
“He didn’t touch me. Not like…that.” Curious eyes met his. Why was she surprised that he would be so protective of her? Hadn’t he spent his whole life protecting his younger sister and her friend?
Leland cleared the sand from his throat. “What did he do then?”
“While I was in Paris studying art, he called on me.” Tilly waved her hand around nonchalantly.
He could tell that she was trying to make less of a deal out of this than she should.
Where some might make a mountain out of a molehill, here was Tilly obviously making a molehill out of a mountain.
“While Wilhem was around, nothing happened. I told my brother that I didn’t want to be left alone with Friedrich, and my brother respected my wishes. Despite Friedrich being a…”
“A what?”
She stalled. And his mind raced. What could the man possibly be? A blackguard? A thief? A pirate?
“A prince.”
That was so much worse than he’d imagined. He dragged a hand down his face. “Let me guess. When Wilhem left you alone, he came back.”
Tilly nodded. And now Leland was directly in front of her. She was a bright shining star. No. A comet. Flaming. Dancing across the sky. Seeing her like this—helpless, defeated—wrung his heart out.
“What did he do?”
When she didn’t answer, he tipped her chin up to look at him. And he didn’t want to remove his finger from that soft spot on her face. He wanted—well, that didn’t matter.
Thankfully she interrupted him, rushing to say, “He said he was going to come to England and tell my brother that I’ve been compromised and that we must marry.”
“Hell and damnation,” Leland muttered, dropping his head. His chest caved in like a sandcastle crumbling slowly by a wave.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to marry him.”
“Like hell you would. I’d never let that happen.”
Again, her eyes held stunned curiosity as she studied him and his reaction.
And perhaps he had revealed too much, but he couldn’t hold it all in.
Not like how he could hold his hands at his side.
And keep his feet from crowding her too much.
No. Those were practiced inhibitions. Years of practice.
But this…knowing she was so vulnerable and defenseless, this required another level of self-discipline.
“Well…” she stumbled, averting her eyes. “That doesn't matter either. It’s not about you, Leland—”
“Like hell it isn’t.” He gripped her waist, anchoring himself to her. Unsure of what he was doing or what he was about to say, he opened his mouth and the words poured out. “If anything bad ever happened to you…I’d never forgive myself.”
Beats passed. Leaves fell. The soft breeze blew all around them. Sun beamed down, heating a patch on the back of his neck. All while his chest heaved just a little deeper than normal.
It wasn’t clear how much time passed before she answered. “I’m going to figure it out on my own, Leland.”
“I’ll help—”
“Without you.” She said the words, but they were softer this time around. It wasn’t quite indecision flickering in her eyes, but it was akin to a depleting resolve.
“At least ask Wilhem to help you.”
“No. He’s busy with Etta. Besides, I convinced him that if he went to England I’d be fine without him. I can’t be wrong about that.”
“I’m going to help you, Tilly. Whether you like it or not.”
And she just looked up at him like she might just admire this decisiveness about him. It was as if there’d been a flash of openness and kindness in her face, the likes of which he had always seen growing up.
Maybe she could look past him rejecting her request a year ago. Such a foolish request it had been. How on earth had she expected him to teach her to kiss, of all things?
Rake that he was, he would still never compromise his best friend’s sister. That would make him the greatest hypocrite to walk the planet, considering he never wanted Wilhem and Etta to get together.
A year ago, she’d approached him asking him to teach her how to kiss.
At first he had laughed. But then she had shown him a little pink leatherbound book, The One With the Wanton Woman.
Oh, he knew that book. Every rake worth his weight knew that book.
Studied that book. Applied that book, religiously.
And that’s how he knew she was serious. When she proved her genuine intentions, he stepped back.
Recoiled. Not because he didn’t want to.
But because he wanted to so desperately that he knew lessons of that kind with her would break him.
Lessons be damned. He knew how he needed to help her.
So he announced the plan, “Put your shoe back on because I know how to fix this. I’ll be your fake fiancé.”