Once an Heiress (14 page)

“More wine, Miss Bachman?” Lady Umberton’s distinctive voice drew her attention. The lady’s brilliant eyes twinkled in amusement.

Abashed, Lily noticed that she’d yet again drained her glass while she’d been occupied observing the other revelers. Quite a few tonnish ladies and gentlemen had openly gawked at the Umberton box — all part of the entertainment of people-watching, she supposed. “No, thank you.” She set her glass aside and glanced around for a footman. “Perhaps some lemonade?”

Lady Umberton waved a hand, her many rings catching the light and twinkling. “Lemonade is fine for children. But you’re right — the wine grows boring. Quillan,” she said, “champagne now, yes?”

With her husband’s compliance granted, the beautiful woman turned back to Lily and pouted. “I still feel terrible about the confusion. I hope your mother will not be too put out with me for delivering you to the wrong place.”

Lily pressed a hand to her chest. Since their arrival at Vauxhall Gardens, Lady Umberton had been the perfect hostess, kind and attentive to her unexpected guest. “Please don’t apologize again, my lady. I’m having a marvelous time,” she assured her hostess, turning to include the gentlemen in her thanks. Lord Umberton was more focused on his meal than the conversation, and seemed not to heed her at all. Thorburn, however, stiffened at her words. He cast a hard look at Lady Umberton, who smiled sweetly.

Why on earth did Thorburn act so put out?

Lady Umberton disregarded his glowering expression and concentrated on Lily. “Is this your first time to the pleasure gardens?”

Lily shook her head. “I came once, four years ago. We only stayed for supper. My father hated everything about the place and vowed he’d never return. I must confess, his complaints quite colored my own ideas, and I’ve had no desire for another outing since.” She waved a hand. “But this is all so lovely.”

Lady Umberton’s eyes widened. “So you have not walked through the gardens?” At Lily’s negative reply, she gasped. “But you must!” The champagne arrived, and Lady Umberton pressed a glass on Lily. As Thorburn took a glass, she said, “Be a dear and escort Miss Bachman about the gardens, Ethan.”

He flicked a glance in her direction. Though his features gave nothing away, Lily sensed his reluctance. She recalled the last time they’d strolled through a garden and felt heat crawl up her chest and neck. Perhaps the memory was not as pleasant for Thorburn as it was for her.

“That isn’t necessary,” Lily blurted, unable to sit by while Lord Thorburn weighed the evident unpleasantness of strolling with her against the rudeness of refusing. “One garden is much the same as any other. Lord Thorburn kindly escorted me on another occasion; I wouldn’t wish to make a nuisance — ”

A muted, strangled sound from Thorburn’s direction halted her. His eyes were pinched closed. Slowly they opened — smoldering like a banked fire — and settled on her.

Lily’s stomach flipped and a nervous knot formed in her chest. She pulled her eyes away from his and located her champagne, which she dispatched with undignified haste. The scrape of a chair, several heavy steps, and then he stood at her shoulder. A hint of warmth grazed over her nape, as though he’d come very near to touching her there.

A delicious, slow shiver began at the base of her skull and worked its way down her back, causing her to inhale sharply. The plunging neckline of her gown pressed against her breasts, cutting into the soft flesh. She realized that from his position, Thorburn would have a clear view of her displayed cleavage. Oddly, the thought pleased her. The shiver dissolved into a pulsating heat at the base of her spine, then wrapped around her belly and pooled between her legs.

“Shall we, Miss Bachman?” His voice was soft like thick velvet. A hand appeared in front of her. Before she could rationalize herself out of it, Lily pushed back from the table. Strong fingers closed around her own as she rose. With a nod of acquiescence, she allowed him to lead her away from the Umbertons and into the gardens.

Despite the numerous lanterns lining the main walks, Lily soon discerned how dark the garden actually was. She glanced down intersecting paths, which were bathed in shadow.

A jolt of apprehension shot through her when he led her off the lit path. Would he try to kiss her again? Surely, she wouldn’t allow it.

Liar
, said a little voice inside. Wasn’t that why she’d agreed to a walk — in the hopes that he
would
kiss her again? She already risked her parents’ censure by being here instead of at the Ainsley’s ball, but at least no one could complain about her being with a married couple like the Umbertons. But to walk with Lord Thorburn through a garden notorious for its secluded alcoves was as brazen an invitation as Lily had ever issued.

A new fear sprung to mind: What if he
didn’t
kiss her? Well, she’d just have to see to it that he did, she reasoned. She took control of all other situations — why should this one be any different?

As they rounded a bend, she saw a little gazebo set in a tiny clearing like a miniature grotto.
Perfect
.

With a firm nod that only sent her tipsy head reeling a little, she veered off the path toward the gazebo, half-dragging Thorburn until he realized her direction and matched his steps to hers.

As they stepped into the shelter, he turned her to face him. “What are you doing?” His voice carried a disapproving tone.

“Just stopping for a moment.” She greedily inhaled his musky, masculine scent — it went to her brain even quicker than the wine had, further addling her already compromised senses. “You don’t mind, do you?”

A flirtatious bat of her eyelashes only resulted in Thorburn sighing and shaking his head. “Marvelous,” he muttered. “You’re completely fuddled.”

Lily drew back in offense. “I’m what?”

“Intoxicated,” he said. “You’re foxed. Three sheets to the wind. Your flag is out. Lushey.” He chuckled softly. “You, my dear,” — his index finger slowly approached her face, and Lily followed it, cross-eyed, until it alit on the tip of her nose — “are drunk.”

Swatting his hand away, she scoffed. “‘m not as bad as all that. Just a little … ” Her fingers fluttered around her temples, “bubbly,” she finished. “Like the champagne.”

He chortled. “You’re
bubbly
?”

Lily laughed, too. For the first time since their arrival at Vauxhall Gardens, he finally relaxed.
Well done, Lily,
she congratulated herself. Now that she’d slipped past his dour mood, it was time to advance her cause.

Still grinning, she caught his hand and brought it to her waist. At once, his smile faltered. Lily took a tentative step forward. Her heart pounded against her ribs so hard, she wondered if Thorburn could hear it. His smell filled her nose again. It seemed to seep from the environs of his neck. With one hand still holding his firmly against her waist, she brought the other to brush across his cravat, tied in an elegantly simple knot. The masculine austerity of it entranced her.

“Lily, what are you doing?” His throat vibrated beneath her fingers.

Her fingers darted to cover his lips. “I didn’t give you permission to use my given name.”

Thorburn’s free hand covered hers. He nipped her fingertips in turn, sending jolts of pleasure up Lily’s arm. She very nearly collapsed into a puddle of molten jelly at the sensation. “I didn’t give
you
permission to manhandle me,” he said.

“I thought … ” she began. But her brain no longer wanted to string words together in coherent sentences. Her breath came shallower and faster as he drew her close, crushing her breasts against his chest. “We both seemed to enjoy — ”

Even in the darkness, she detected the heat in his eyes as they roved her face. “Did you enjoy?”

Heat flooded her cheeks; Lily nodded woodenly. She stared at his neck cloth again, afraid to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?”

She swallowed. “I thought, perhaps — ” she told his cravat.

“Look at me.”

She did, for once in her life not bristling at a statement that smacked of authority.

His hand splayed across her lower back and he pulled her closer still, until every inch of her was in contact with some deliciously hard part of him. “Now,” he said, his voice carrying a wicked promise of pleasures she could only begin to imagine, “you look at me and tell me what you want.”

The thick ridge pressing into her abdomen made her arch into him. Rallying the tattered scraps of her rational self, she managed to voice her request. “A kiss.”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “A kiss? That’s all you want?”

He was mocking her, she knew, trying to goad her into another argument. She nodded weakly. “Just a kiss.”

His head dropped, and he chastely pressed his lips against her forehead.

When he pulled back, Lily’s taut nerves cried in disappointment. She whimpered, but he paid her protest no heed.

“There now, you’ve had your kiss. Let’s be on our way.” The tension around his eyes suggested that he held himself back.

She exhaled in frustration. What did a girl have to do to get herself properly kissed? “You’re not being very gentlemanly, I’ll have you know.”

“Indeed?” A hint of amusement played around the corners of his mouth.

Thorburn’s bent arm made an appearance at her side. Lily whirled away, refusing his escort. She had come here to be kissed, and by Jove, she was going to be kissed. “You’re cruel,” she accused. “That wasn’t at all what I meant, as you well know. If you don’t feel inclined to kiss me you might have just said so, instead of mocking me.”

His hand clamped around her upper arm like a vise and turned her to face him, every shred of humor vanished. Thunderclouds roiled across his features. Fear clapped her in the gut. Suddenly, she was
very
sorry for her curt tone. She remembered his bellowing roar and the sound of glass smashing into the fireplace when she’d fled his house after their first meeting. For all Thorburn’s urbane sophistication, something dark and powerful lurked just beneath the surface. And she should not be trifling with it.

“You’re playing a foolish game, Miss Bachman.”

She shook her head, desperate to clear the murkiness of the glasses of wine she’d consumed.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Unfortunately, I find myself losing this one, too.” His fingers tangled into the hair at her nape. Lightly, he brushed his lips across hers. Lily’s apprehension started to give way.

“Is this more what you had in mind?” he murmured. He teased her again with his mouth, reigniting the storm of desire within her.

“No.” The word was a plea, yearning for the fulfillment of something she scarcely recognized.

A groan sounded low in his throat as he captured her lips again. His tongue caressed her bottom lip, not so much begging admittance as inviting her to come out to play. Hers slid out to meet his. She exulted at the flood of warmth, at the taste of him suffusing her senses.

The first time they’d kissed, she’d been taken off guard. She still wasn’t accustomed to the overwhelming surge of desire his kiss elicited. But it didn’t surprise her so much this time, and she wondered if she might be the one to steer it, as he had last time.

She wound her hands around the back of his neck and pulled herself up and in, eliminating every particle of space between them. She slanted her mouth and drove her tongue forward, demanding. Thorburn obliged her. The frenzied kiss didn’t satisfy anything at all, but left her plunging onward, for surely there had to be a culmination — a merciful
end —
to the urge pulsating through her entire being.

A whimper escaped her throat, and when he cupped her bottom and drew her hard against his arousal, she felt her very soul answer,
Yes.

“Lord Thorburn?” said an amused female voice.

Abruptly, his hands flew away from her and the kiss was broken. Lily swayed; Thorburn put a steadying hand at her elbow as they turned.

A group of several couples stood at the gazebo’s entrance. Lily recognized Lady Elaine, one of the most vicious gossips in the
ton
. She stood front and center, a malicious smile on her face.

“I thought that was you,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. Her cold eyes turned on Lily. “And Miss Bachman! What a surprise. I thought Vauxhall beneath your notice, but you certainly threw yourself in it tonight.”

A few titters sounded from the group behind her.

Lily’s lips pursed together. So she’d been caught kissing Thorburn. What of it? It was no more than any of
them
had likely done at some point. She opened her mouth to say so, but Lady Elaine pressed on.

“Even though you have no breeding whatsoever, I’m still shocked you keep company with Umberton’s mistress.”

Lily blinked. She shook her head. Elaine couldn’t mean … ?

“How is Lady Umberton?” Elaine arched a brow at Thorburn. “Has the babe arrived yet?”

Babe?
Lady Umberton wasn’t visibly with child. She turned her confused eyes on Thorburn, who was staring down Lady Elaine with scarcely contained loathing.

The group continued on, leaving Lily and Thorburn in the suddenly very cheap-looking gazebo.

“Lady Umberton.” Panic flailed at her. Lily looked at Thorburn, searching his blank face for reassurance. “That
is
Lady Umberton in the box, is it not?”

Thorburn’s brows snapped together. “No, you fool! That’s Umberton’s mistress. Why the devil do you think I tried to send you on to your ball?”

Shock hit her like a bucket of icy water over the head. “Why didn’t you stop me?” Lily wailed.

His hands flew wide and he scoffed in exasperation. “You made such a bloody scene, I thought it would be safer to try to get through dinner unnoticed. What would you have had me do? Cosh you over the head and toss you into a hackney?”

Her hands tangled in her skirts, wrapping them around her fists like bandages on a pugilist’s hands. “You might have told me, at least!”

“I thought you knew!” he bellowed. “Everyone in London knows Ghita is Quillan’s mistress — everyone but
you
, it would seem.”

His words stung, like he was laughing at her. “But she said she was Lady Umberton,” Lily muttered. “She told my
mother
so.” She buried her face in her hands, feeling like the stupidest, most gullible person ever born.
How
could this have happened?