A Season to Be Sinful (18 page)

Is everything all right, my lord? Kearns inquired as he approached. If you will permit me to say so, you look as if youre sickening for something.

Pleurisy.

I beg your pardon?

I hope it isnt pleurisy, Sherry said, collecting himself. I believe I will have a drink in the library, Kearns.

Very good, sir. I understand the hemlock is of a particularly fine vintage.

Sherry did not fox himself on drink, though he had rather more than was his custom. The whisky fogged his mind more than cleared it. Occasionally he would arrive at some idea he considered particularly brilliant, only to discover that he could not hold it long enough to make it the subject of study. Worse, he sometimes realized there were but three ideas and he was simply returning to them.

He slept for a while in the large wing chair in front of the fireplace. When he stirred it was to find that someoneLane most likelyhad seen to it that a small fire was laid and a rug was placed across his lap. He was not comforted by this coddling of the servantsquite the opposite, in fact. That he was looked after in this way made him feel decades older than his twenty-eight years, well into decrepitude. He should be afforded the same opportunity to suffer the consequences of other young men who drank deep in their cups. There was a certain dignity, he was coming to understand, to being able to make a perfect cake of oneself. He had never done so, but he was fashioning the opinion that it might have something to recommend it.

When he woke again, he had a most painful crick in his neck. All thoughts of suffering the consequence of drink vanished, and he wondered why no one had thought to put a pillow between his head and the wing of the chair. Rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, his eyes fell on the small fringed pillow on the floor beside him. He smiled ruefully. It seemed someone had thought further to his comfort, and he had been too churlish to accept it.

Ahh, you are awake.

Sherry blinked as Lily stepped out of the shadowed recess beside the fireplace. He did not have immediate recognition of her voice, but his eyes knew her. The embers backlit her hair and made it glow in a dark copper penumbra about her head. Her features remained largely invisible to him so it was his keen memory of them that drew in the outline of her lush mouth and the exotic tilt of her green eyes. He knew the shape of her cheekbones and the exact distance from the nose to her mouth and from her mouth to her chin. It was a face of perfect proportion and startling symmetry.

The lingering effects of drink allowed him to acknowledge what he had resisted before: she was easily one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, and he was drawn to her in a way that was outside his experience.

I woke and could not find sleep again, she said quietly.

I see it was not the same for you. You stirred once before. I thought you would rouse yourself then, but you went straightaway to sleep.

The drink helped, Im sure.

She nodded. Are you still foxed?

I never was. I do not seem to have an intemperate nature.

Lily thought he sounded a shade disappointed. Unlike me. For want of something to do in the aftermath of this confession, she tightened the sateen sash of the robe she was wearing. Shed found it in the armoire in her room and availed herself of its modest protection when she ventured downstairs. The sleeves were too long and the quilted cuffs lay against the back of her fingers. To keep from tripping on the hem, she had tugged the length of the robe upward and secured the extra fabric above the belt. I hope you will not mind, she said, but Midge told me earlier where I would find the library.

You have been here long? Shed said she had seen him stir before. How many minutes had passed since then? Judging by the stiffness in his neck, he had slept for more than a few.

Not so long, she said vaguely. I have been reviewing your collection.

A better pastime than watching me sleep.

More edifying, at least.

I should hope so, he said slowly, uncertain what shed meant by this last remark. Had she been watching him or not? Have you made your selection?

I think I would like Delphine .

Madame de Stael?

Yes. That is the one.

Very well. Take it. He uncurled his legs from their awkward position under the chair and stretched. It is in the original French, though I suppose that presents no problem for you.

No, she said softly. It doesnt.

Who are you, Lily Rose?

It seems to me you know.

Lily Rose is merely a name, perhaps not even yours. It is not you. He studied her a moment longer. I want to know you.

No, you dont.

Contrary creature. Did I not just say so? He did not think he mistook her smile for anything but rueful as she turned away. You must have been a sore trial to the sisters of Sacred Heart.

Lily ran her index finger along the shelf where she remembered seeing the novel she wanted. I possessed that happy talent, she said idly. Here it is. Delphine . She carefully removed the book and cradled it in one arm as she lifted the cover and studied the title page. She glanced over at Sheridan. Thank you, my lord. It is a great gift to be allowed to read again.

Sherry nodded, faintly discomfited by her gratitude. I hope you will have joy of it.

I will. Lily stepped forward, once again into the dim glow from the fireplace. Have you need of anything before I go? she asked. Another rug? Perhaps I should add more coals if you are not going directly to your own bed. I used precious few the first time.

So it was not Lane who had directed that someone see to his comfort. Sherry required a few moments to accustom himself to that. Everything hed thought when hed believed his retainers had cared for him was challenged by the realization that it had been Lily. Where hed found no comfort in their fussing, he discovered that he quite liked the idea that shed thought to lay a fire for him and place a rug over his legs. Far from feeling as if he were in his dotage, he was warmed by the notion that she had wanted to make him easy. He wished now that she had been more insistent that he keep the pillow under his head.

To prove that he was appreciative of such efforts as shed shown him, Sherry reached over the arm of the chair and scooped up the pillow. He slipped it behind his neck. I believe all is well enough for me.

Worrying her lower lip, Lily nodded.

What is it? he asked. It was plain that she was teetering on the edge of something of consequence. Is it that you want another book? Pray, do not make me suppose what it is. I am not foxed, but I am dull witted.

Lilys bare feet were rooted to the rug, but the rest of her slender frame inclined forward in a posture of earnestness. I deeply regret my ill-advised temper, she said quickly. It was unconscionable of me to speak to you so vilely. I dont think I knew all that I said until I was done saying it. I have had more than sufficient time to reflect on my words, and I cannot find them anything save appalling. I do not understand why you didnt cuff me. It would have been a mercyfor both of us.

Hit you, you mean?

She nodded and touched her index finger to one side of her chin. Just here. Its a proper good clip, but it doesnt knock my teeth about. When he was silent for so long, Lily clamped her teeth together and drew back her lips in a semblance of a smile. See? she asked, speaking from behind the double row of pearlies.

Sherry knew himself to have an almost indecent desire to kiss her and something more besides. He was glad for the rug covering his lap, or she would have known it, too. What sport she might have made of that, he didnt want to think about. Go to bed, Miss Rose, he told her with a credible show of weariness. You have made a good apology, and I am accepting it. We shall endeavor to go forward.

Lily still hesitated, then gauging that he was impatient with her, she added quickly, Then my immoderate behavior will not reflect poorly on the boys. There was the faintest inflection at the end that made it more question than statement.

Sherry was tempted to reach for the finger of whiskey left in the tumbler on the side table. I am not certain it even reflects poorly on you, so I am not inclined to say how it might affect my opinion of the lads. He could see that she was very clearly stunned by this intelligence. He sighed, not because he was in the least tired or out of sorts with her but because he wanted her to believe that he was. Every moment that she stayed, he felt a measure of his considerable control eroding.

Sherry did not permit his eyes to drop to her bare feet. Her toes, all ten of them, were as provocative peeping out from under the hem of her robe as her teeth had been when she flashed that absurdly artless smile. He could make a feast of those toes, he thought, sucking on one until all of them curled.

He reined himself in before he came out of the chair or his skin, the order of which no longer mattered. When you said those things to me, Lily, I had the impression you felt threatened in some way. Was that true?

Lilys breath hitched, but she stayed her ground and answered quietly, Not for me, but for them.

Yes, he said. That was it. And everything you said and did was in aid of protecting them, isnt that also true?

She nodded.

Sherry shrugged. Then why should I reproach you for it? I admit to a lack of comprehension regarding the particular threat, but I acknowledge you perceived one. That being the case, you reacted with some courage. He smiled mildly, the warmth of it not quite reaching his eyes. That confounds you, does it? Well, good. It seems a fair turn. What say you, Miss Rose; it occurs to me the time is finally upon us for you to say your prayers.

Sherry had meant the suggestion to put a period to their discussion and send her to her room. He was unprepared for her to drop his first edition, leather-bound copy of Delphine to the floor and approach him. Even more singular was the moment she parted his crossed ankles by nudging them with her toes and came to stand between his splayed legs. He was forced to widen his stance each time she stepped nearer.

Lifting his eyes, Sherry schooled his features so no thought or emotion was revealed. For once, Lily was his equal. Her face was pale, the eyes unblinking. There was little in the way of expression behind them. They darkened ever wider at the center until the deep green iris all but disappeared, and Lily with it. These black wells of the soul were empty.

Sherry reached for her but only grazed her upper arms as she dropped to her knees in front of him. His hands were still clutching air when she was already flinging aside the rug. He made to catch it, but it was a poor use of his resources. By the time he attended to her again, she was yanking the tail of his shirt out of his trousers.

Lily! Sherry grabbed her wrists, stilling them, and discovered quickly this grip did nothing to prevent her fingers from deftly unbuttoning his flies. He said her name again, as urgently as before, though with considerably more huski-ness, and began to peel back her hands. For the first time he saw something in her face that he understood most likely mirrored his own: confusion.

What are you doing? They spoke the same words almost in unison, though Lilys voice was a softer echo of his.

Sherry still held Lilys wrists, but her fingertips grazed his heavy erection where it pressed against his drawers. If he relaxed his grip even a fraction he knew she would release him into her hands. He wondered if any man had had his resolve so sorely tried, then wondered immediately if it were not every man who met Lily.

This last thought was what made one corner of his mouth lift contemptuously. This is what you do?

Lily flinched, but then her chin came up. You wanted this. How dare you scorn me for obedience. Or is it that you mean to test me again? She stretched her fingers as far as she was able and scored the underside of his cock with the nail of her middle finger. The soft hitch of his breath was unmistakable. You did ask me to say my prayers, didnt you? Im not wrong about that. But perhaps it is only that you mean to test yourself. Can a pederast surrender his perversions to a womans mouth? That is it, isnt it, my lord? You are a pederast who wishes above everything that you were not. Shall we see if mayhap the screw can be turned?

Sherry had never struck a woman. Grunting softly with the effort not to do so now, he released Lilys wrists. In the moment before he took her by the shoulders and flung her away from him, he saw how she prepared herself to pray at the feet of men. In attitude she held herself as a model of piety, while the reality was that she mocked it. Bowing her head, she also lowered her eyes, and the faintly derisive curve of her lips faded until it was as serene as it was profane. Her hands came together, the fingers steepled around his cock as she made to take it from his drawers. Her mouth parted and

Lily fell sideways to the floor. Sprawling at Sheridans feet was not as humiliating as the surprise of it was. She drew her knees up and lowered her head toward them, curling instinctively in the manner of a wounded animal.

When he was free of her, Sherry catapulted out of the chair. He did not glance once in Lilys direction, concentrating instead on quieting his rough breathing and righting himself and his clothes. He went to the side table and lifted the tumbler with its single finger of whiskey to his lips. He did not drink but held it there a long time. Violent emotion ran the same course through his body as his blood. His fingertips pressed whitely on the glass, and his hand shook. Sherry thought he might crush it in his palm and realized the pain would not be unwelcome.