Once an Heiress (11 page)

Finally, she calmed in her struggles. Ethan carried her to bed.

When he left her house, he considered whether it would be bad form to stop in at the Bachmans’ house. He wondered what Lily would be doing right now — something witty and refined, he imagined. Or perhaps something to do with her school. There wouldn’t be any madness there, at least, or the poverty of his own empty abode. Maybe if he asked nicely, she would allow him to just sit in a quiet corner and breathe in the normalcy.

No, he thought with a weary sigh. It was growing late. She’d be preparing for the evening’s entertainment by now. He would be an unwelcome intrusion in her plans. Besides, he didn’t even know her direction.

He started to trudge toward home, but couldn’t bear the thought of his cold, silent house. Instead, his feet carried him to one place he knew he could forget himself.

An hour later, he owed Ficken a hundred pounds.

Lily lifted a lump of … something … from a display shelf in the shop of Strombold and Jones, purveyors of exotic imports and curiosities of every description.

At first glance, the object in her hands appeared to be a polished slice of rock, but it was unlike any stone she’d ever seen. She glanced up at Naomi, who was running a gloved finger down the length an intricately carved elephant tusk. “What do you suppose this is?”

Behind her veil of netting, Naomi furrowed her brow at Lily’s mystery object. She took it and turned it in her hands, examining first the rough black-brown exterior and then the smooth, polished interior. “Petrified wood.” She handed it back to Lily and exhaled a bored sigh.

“How do you know?” Lily frowned at the thing she still thought was a rock.

“See here?” Naomi pointed to faint lines in the dark surface. “Those are growth rings.”

Lily arched a brow, impressed at her friend’s knowledge. She glanced toward Aunt Janine, who stood at the counter talking to the shopkeeper. “Runs in the family, does it?”

Naomi pursed her lips. “If by ‘it’ you mean Auntie’s bluestocking tendencies, they most certainly do not. When one has a botanist for a brother, one cannot help but absorb some trivial information about plants.” She stuck her tongue out, then blushed and looked around quickly.

Smiling, Lily returned the piece of rock-wood to its place on the shelf. “How much longer do you suppose she’ll be?” She nodded toward Aunt Janine.

“There’s no telling. If Auntie’s taken it into her mind to hunt down some arcane bit of bric-a-brac, we could be here all day.”

Lily groaned. When she’d received an invitation this morning to join Naomi and Aunt Janine for shopping, it had seemed like a pleasant outing. Now they were trapped inside the stuffy, dim shop while the sunny day passed them by.

Nearby, two gentlemen conversed quietly while they examined the shop’s wares. One of them laughed. “Well, what do you know? There’s Thorburn.”

A tingle shot up Lily’s spine. She peeked at the men. They were looking out the window at the parade of people going up and down Bond Street.

“Didn’t know he saw the sun these days,” said the other. “Seems to slink in the shadows more often than not.”

“If he’s avoiding the shadows,” mused the first, “it must be because he’s indebted to them now, too.” They laughed and returned to their shopping.

Lily strolled to the front window, feigning interest in a brass figurine of the Buddha. She peered into the crowd going by the shop, searching for Thorburn.

“There he is.” Naomi materialized at her side. “At the jeweler’s across the street.”

He stood in the doorway, shaking hands with a man in a dark suit. The loupe spectacles shoved up on the man’s forehead gave him away as the proprietor of that shop.

“What is he doing?” Lily mused aloud. “A man in such dire straights has no business buying jewelry!” This was it, then; proof of his irresponsible behavior.

“Maybe he’s selling something,” Naomi suggested.

Bollocks.
That would be a reasonable thing for a man in his position to do.

Thorburn donned his hat and started down the walk.

Naomi’s hand clamped around her elbow. “What are you doing?”

Lily blinked. She hadn’t realized her feet were already carrying her to the door. “Following him,” she admitted. “You people keep telling me he’s no good. I want to see it for myself.”

Naomi gaped, appalled. “You can’t do that,” she hissed.

Lily shrugged. “Why not?”

“It’s as bad as eavesdropping!”

Lily adopted a tone of hauteur. “It’s a public street. I can walk down it if I please.”

Naomi folded her arms under her bosom, her reticule dangling from her wrist. “What about Aunt Janine? She won’t approve.”

Lily craned her neck. Thorburn was almost out of sight. “She doesn’t have to. I’m going.”

“Wait!” Naomi yelped. She hurried to their footman patiently waiting in a chair in the corner. “We’re — ah — stepping out for air.”

Lily was already outside by the time Naomi caught up with her. She scanned the crowd, searching for her quarry as she walked. She spotted him strolling at a sedate pace down the other side of the street, his lean form a head taller than most of the people around him. He glided through the throng, his broad shoulders creating a bit of space behind him as he passed.

She sighed miserably. “Why hasn’t he come to call?”

“You don’t
want
him to call,” Naomi reminded her. “His outrageous debts and wild reputation make him a terrible match for any woman, title or no.”

“But, look,” Lily argued. Thorburn tipped his hat at a passing acquaintance. “He isn’t doing anything questionable whatsoever.” Her cheeks burned when she recalled the extremely questionable kiss they’d shared, but he
had
apologized for that. “I’m beginning to think he’s been misjudged. You, of all people, should understand.”

Naomi stopped dead in her tracks, pulling on her companion’s arm to bring her to a halt. “Lily, no,” she said in a flat tone. “I know how vicious gossip can be, how a rumor can become regarded as truth whether or not it is. But Thorburn truly
is
a rake. Everyone knows how badly he’s in debt, because he owes money to most everyone. His reputation with women — ”

Lily’s temper flared. “Is he a despoiler of virgins, as well?” she fired. “Eats babies at satanic orgies, perhaps?”

Naomi rolled her eyes hugely. “Oh, really now, Lily, be reasonable.”

“I
am
being reasonable!”

Lily turned on her heel and started down the walk again, skipping around slower pedestrians to catch up with Thorburn. Naomi had to half-jog to keep pace with her taller friend’s stride, pressing a hand to her hat to keep it in place.

“If he’s such a blackguard,” Lily reasoned, “then his character should soon evidence itself.” She skittered to a halt when she spotted him. He stood in front of a shop, examining a pair of Hessians in the window. “Oh, boots,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “very shady.”

Naomi huffed.

Thorburn continued on his way, then ducked into a building a few doors down.

“That’s the lending library,” Naomi said.

Lily exulted. “You see? Books are improving. He has a curious mind. Even Aunt Janine would approve. And reading is an economical entertainment for someone of modest means.”

“The right kinds of books are improving,” Naomi countered. “Not all are.”

“Then we must discover what he’s reading. Come on.” Lily grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her across the street, weaving between lumbering carriages and encumbered servants carrying stacks of packages for their employers.

Lily slipped into the library and ducked behind a tall shelf. She peeked around, but didn’t spot Thorburn. She pulled her head back, fearful of her bonnet giving her away.

Briefly, it occurred to her that she had taken complete leave of her senses. Lily Bachman did not skulk around stalking after handsome gentlemen.
She
was the pursued party, the one who rejected at her own whim. Her cheeks burned at her utter lack of self-discipline. If she was willing to follow the man down Bond Street, what would she do if she was alone with him in another secluded garden? Damn the man!

She sank to the floor, pulling her knees against her chest.

Naomi, clearly not a raving lunatic like Lily, made an annoyed sound in her throat. She looked around the library, then flipped through a volume on the shelf next to the one Lily was hiding behind. She replaced that book, then bent her knees as though examining a selection on a lower shelf.

“I see him,” she said in a low voice.

Lily’s interest flared back to life. “What is he looking at?”

“Histories.”

Lily’s brows drew together in vexation. History! That was altogether improving. She peevishly struggled against her estimation of the man, which was rising yet again. Beside his one lapse in propriety when he kissed her — which Lily had to admit she’d participated in as fully as he — he had done nothing to earn her disapproval. Even her poor first impression of him at his home had been caused by her mistaking him for an ill-mannered butler. Had she known his station to begin with, she never would have thought ill of him at all.

Her legs were beginning to go numb in their cramped position. She pressed her hands against the floor beside her hips to rise, but a warning hiss from Naomi stayed her.

Thorburn came into view, carrying several books. Lily waited until he finished at the counter and stepped back out into the street, then clumsily extracted herself from her hiding spot. She stood and smoothed her skirts, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed her shameful behavior. Her legs tingled as they stretched out.

She gathered Naomi and approached the door. Every step shot hot arrows through her, a tormenting punishment for her hoydenish antics. She couldn’t help but peer after Thorburn as she crossed the threshold. His retreating back was only a few yards away.

Lily took another awkward step and tumbled off the doorstep. Her still-tingling legs were unable to correct her misstep, and she fell headlong into a library patron carrying a stack of books.

Lily, gentleman, and books all went down in a tangled heap. She extended her arms to break her fall. A slice of pain shot through her hand and up her arm. Surprised cries from onlookers drew the attention of passers-by.

Suddenly, two strong, capable hands were under her arms, hauling her to her feet. She turned on unsteady legs to thank her rescuer.

Ah.

Of course.

“Are you all right, Miss Bachman?” Thorburn’s eyes searched her face, his brows knit together in concern. His hands remained on her upper arms, holding her steady.

She nodded. “Just a little shaken, I think.” She raised her hand to right her bonnet.

He snatched her wrist. “You’re bleeding!”

Lily blinked at her hand. Her lace glove was torn, and a cut on the fleshy ball of her thumb oozed scarlet, staining the ruined fabric.

With a nimble quickness that suggested practice, Thorburn plucked at the fingers of the glove, and then pulled it off. He tucked it into his pocket, his hand reemerging with a handkerchief, which he pressed against her wound.

The feel of his touch against her bare skin quite took her breath away. If only he weren’t wearing gloves as well, she thought. She gazed at his serious face while he concentrated on her injury, barely registering the dull throb emanating from her hand.

“I do not believe it is serious, but if you’d like a surgeon to attend you, I would recommend — ” His words died in his throat when he raised his eyes and their gazes met.

Lily’s tongue went dry and her knees trembled. She swallowed. “Thank you.”

Thorburn’s eyes flicked toward the dispersing crowd. Lily pulled her hand back, acutely aware of her conspicuous mishap. She forced a laugh. “So clumsy of me. We were just returning some books.” She waved at the library door, and then remembered Naomi. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted her friend standing against the wall, holding Thorburn’s books.

Naomi’s wide eyes were not on Lily, however. Her gaze was fixed on someone else.

Lily turned to look down the street. A sinking feeling settled into her stomach when she spotted Aunt Janine approaching at a brisk pace.

“There you two are!” the older woman declared. “James said you’d stepped out for air, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. You gave me the fright of my life!” Her fists came to rest on her ample hips as she leveled her formidable glare first on Lily, and then Naomi. “What are you girls doing all the way down here? You’ve wandered quite a distance from Strombold and Jones.”

Lily glanced guiltily at Thorburn. He turned to look back up Bond Street in the direction from which they had all come, and then his eyes narrowed on her in a piercing gaze. She wished a lightning bolt would strike her where she stood and put an end to her humiliation.

“Here’s your handkerchief.” She held the bloodied cloth like an offering of contrition.

He raised a hand. “Keep it.” He retrieved his books from Naomi’s care.

Aunt Janine bustled her and Naomi back up the street like a mother hen, scolding them both for their inconsiderate behavior.

Lily held back just long enough to chance a glance over her shoulder. Thorburn still stood in front of the library, his books held at his side. His lips were drawn in a line and his gaze shot right through her from a distance as effectively as it did at close range. She sucked her breath and whirled, glad to be swept away from his too-knowing eyes.

• • •

Ethan followed Lily’s progress down Bond Street until she was lost to the crowd, then turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Idly, he patted his pocket. Vanessa’s ring, which he’d just picked up from being repaired at the jeweler’s, was nestled in its velvet bag against his chest. There was something else there, too.

Her glove. Her ruined, bloody glove. There was no reason in the world for him to hang onto such a macabre token, but even as the thought to toss it out crossed his mind, he knew he would keep it.

He shouldn’t, though. This was getting dangerous. For both of them.