Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor, #3) (39 page)

“Assist me?” Lily stared at her blankly as a pit settled in her belly.
He is going to send me away.
Surely not. Surely not in this remote manner. Surely there would be a goodbye and...something. Something more than this. She gripped the edge of the hard wood panel with such force her nails bit into the wood. Feeling adrift on the water without any oars, Lily continued to stand and watch as Claudia tossed open the armoire doors and drew out a serviceable day dress.

Wordlessly, the young woman helped her through her morning ablutions and then, instead of taking her leave, returned to the armoire and proceeded to fill her arms with Lily’s handful of satin dresses.

“What are you doing?” she asked, those words so faintly spoken, she barely heard them herself.

Through that inquiry, Claudia continued rushing back and forth from armoire to bed. “What are you doing?” she repeated, this time unable to keep the frantic note of desperation from her question.

Claudia looked up from her task. Regret lined her face. “Oh, ma’am,” she whispered. She froze mid-step and drew the blue satin gown with black overlay close to her chest. “You do not know?”

Lily clenched and unclenched the fabric of her dress. “Do not know what?” she asked, not even requiring an answer. She knew precisely what the young woman would say.

“His Grace has ordered you gone.”
Oh, God.
Even expecting it as she’d been, her legs buckled and she shot her hands out searching for purchase. He would so easily turn her out. An eerie reminiscence to another moment much like this flooded in. Only she’d been a girl of sixteen, crying and pleading, while her belongings were hastily thrown into the same valise in a similar manner.
...You are a whore. There is no place for you here...
An agonized moan ripped from her throat.

Claudia relinquished the gowns in her hands and raced across the room. “No, no, ma’am,” she said softly, chewing at her lower lip. She flung an arm about Lily’s shoulders and guided her across the room. “It is not a statement of your work.” She pursed her lips and a hard glint lit her eyes, giving the innocent young woman a hardened edge that belied the innocent she’d first met a week ago. “It is a testament to the beast he truly is.”

“He is no beast,” Lily forced out past a thickened throat and gratefully claimed a seat upon the mattress. For even with his callous removal of her from his life, Derek was still a man who loved deeply and defended those deserving of it. She’d merely been one who’d duped him and then stolen those gifts as though she had a right to them.

“Tsk, tsk. Rushing you out in this manner?” The young woman gave her head a shake. “Not at all good of him, ma’am, and for all you’ve done for His Grace and the girl.”

For all she’d done? She’d come here with the most dishonest of intentions, garnered his trust, and then ultimately betrayed him with her presence here. No, Claudia did not know all those pieces. She only knew the impossibly cool façade Derek presented to the world. Lily, however, had seen past that to the man he was; the one who longed to be loved and know that sentiment in return—a man who’d given up on the hope of it. “He is a good man,” she said quietly. A man who was wholly deserving of a good woman’s heart. A lady. Not the whore who’d lain with his brother.

Claudia made a noncommittal noise and rushed to continue packing Lily’s belongings. As each garment disappeared within that worn and tattered valise, panic grew inside her breast; with past and present melding into one horrifyingly ambiguity she could not sort out. A peculiar numbness took away all hurt, all pain, all feeling so she felt nothing but a hollow emptiness. Lily’s throat worked.

Once, not too long ago, she would have been focused on nothing but her own uncertain future and security. Now, it mattered not. Nothing did, beyond losing him and the life they might have lived together. Tears filled her eyes.

How very neatly and effortlessly Derek had cut her from the fabric of his life. With his harsh ducal command yesterday, he’d relegated her to more prisoner than servant, and now—not even that. The sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, mockingly cheerful with its false brightness.

And when the last article was packed and she was scuttled off, the only joy she’d ever truly known would exist as nothing more than a painful memory. Of Derek. Of Flora. Oh, God. Lily climbed to her feet. This loss was greater than any other she’d known. George, she’d never loved him. She’d been infatuated with him the way any naïve girl might be of a lofty lord. Not this love she had for Derek; a sentiment that had the power to cut her open and heal her all at the same time.

The maid clicked the valise closed and looked questioningly up. “Ma’am?”

Lily dimly registered the tears staining her cheeks and she turned away, discreetly brushing her hands over those useless mementos. “I am ready.” She’d leave as Derek ordered, but she would at least see Flora one more time. To leave without so much as a parting would only fuel the idea the girl had never been anything more than her charge. “I would make my goodbyes to Lady Flora.” Her voice cracked, and she turned to go.

The floorboards creaked as Claudia raced across the room. She shot a hand about Lily’s forearm and gave her a look that was both regretful and determined. “No, ma’am. He will not allow it.”

“But—”

“He has a footman waiting outside your room to escort you to the carriage. It has been readied.”

A half-laugh, half-sob lodged in her throat. “The c-carriage?” she managed. He truly did see her as nothing more than a thief in his home. The carriage that would bring her...where? She slid her eyes closed, as that age-old panic crept in. The same terror of being alone, reliant upon only herself to survive in a cold and grasping world. Lily forced her eyes open and managed a jerky nod. “Very well,” she said tightly. “But I will speak to Der—His Grace,” she amended, “before I go.” For what? What is there to say?
I’ve given him my love and apologies. Neither is strong enough to erase his mistrust and my own crimes.

“I’m sorry,” Claudia said gently. “He’ll not allow it.”

Lily folded her arms close and squeezed tight. How coldly impersonal this departure was, her sacking. Dictatorial, more than anything. He could not even bring himself to speak to her. The agony of that sucked the breath from her lungs.

Claudia added Lily’s box to her valise and snapped it closed with a decisive click that rang of finality.
It is over.
Never again would she see Derek. Touch him. Talk to him and with him. His life would continue as it had been before her, as though she’d never existed. She sucked in a shuddering breath.

The young maid picked up the bag, jolting her to the moment. Numbed, Lily held out trembling fingers. “I will see to my belongings.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Claudia handed it over and started for the door when she suddenly stopped and looked back. “You deserved better than this place and this end, ma’am.” Her eyes misted. “We both did. The world is not a kind place, is it?” And yet, with her sunny disposition and ever-present smile one such as her knew nothing of the blackness that existed. Not in the way Lily did.

They stepped into the hall where a burly footman stood in wait. The muscles of his forearms strained the crimson fabric of his liveried uniform. He reached for her bag and she waved him off with a murmured thanks. With a slight nod, he waited for her to move and then he fell into step alongside her and Claudia.

How very easily Claudia could have gone on and see to her morning duties and, yet, she remained with Lily until she should leave. That gentle support tugged at her heart and she blinked to see past the tears clouding her vision. In this house, she’d known more kindness and love than she’d known since she’d been cast out. She shot one more glance over her shoulder at her rooms and then beyond to Flora’s. How could a person come to mean so very much to her in such a short time? A sob stuck in her throat and she buried it with her hand.

“Tsk, tsk, none of that,” Claudia chided.

As she silently followed the maid from the halls, she cast another last look back at her chambers and Flora’s rooms. Quiet, devoid of life, there was something both eerie and peaceful in the duke’s corridors, all at the same time. Lily reached the end of the corridor and made to go right down the hall toward the main foyer when Claudia held a hand up.

She gave a sheepish look. “His Grace would have you use the servants’ entrance.”

She jerked. The servants’ entrance. Of course, that was the only role she’d served here—to him. To Lily, the fragile relationship they’d built as two broken souls who’d for a too-brief moment had stolen happiness in one another had been something so much more. “Of course,” she managed to rasp out. She tightened her grip reflexively about the handle of her valise, curling her fingers so tight they went numb from her hold. With her shoulders squared, she started down the corridor, past those now coldly triumphant, ducal ancestors.

They descended the narrow set of stairs. She blinked in an attempt to adjust her eyes to the darkened space. Claudia stole a quick look about. Did she avoid Lily’s eyes? Then their gazes collided and there was a fleeting flash of guilt, gone as quickly as it had come. “Thomas will show you to the carriage, Miss Bennett.”

She angled to face the girl. Pinpricks of unease dotted her skin as Claudia made to step around her. “You called me Miss Bennett.”

The girl froze. “Ma’am?” She cocked her head.

Such a mistake could have been any accidental, coincidental slip-up, and yet... Lily’s heart kicked up a funny beat. Claudia looked beyond her shoulder to the footman and a look passed between them. Then the servant lunged.

Oh, God...

Lily took a breath to scream, when he slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling that sound. The valise tumbled from her fingers and she kicked and flailed, catching Claudia in the stomach for her efforts. The girl cried out and she reveled in that warning cry. That moment too fleeting as the footman at her back cursed.

“Get out of here, you bloody fool.”

Claudia’s gaze reflected an apology and regret all at once.

Lily implored her with her eyes. Why? Why would she do this? The answer to that would never come. Thomas dragged her flailing figure through the hall. Her heart thundered hard and fast as she struggled to draw in panicked breaths, bucking and twisting against the hold of her captor.

“You shouldn’t have fought me, bitch,” the footman whispered harshly against her ear. “He didn’t want you hurt.”

Lily bit down hard on the flesh of the man’s palm. He quietly cursed and cuffed her in the temple. Silver flecks danced before her eyes and she struggled to blink back the ringing echoing in her ears. She let loose a scream from deep within her throat that sound muffled by the humming of her ears and the coarseness of his hand. Thomas cursed once more and punched her in the side of the head.

Her eyes slid closed and the world went black.

A
loud humming filled Lily’s ears and she struggled to see through the thick curtain clouding her vision. With a pounding at her temples, she forced her eyes open. A splash of sunlight slapped her face and she groaned, closing her eyes against the pain of that blinding brightness. Bile climbed her throat at the agony clamoring around her brain.

In a bid to escape the agony of her body’s pain, she rolled onto her side but her body jerked with resistance. That slight tug sent pain shooting up her numbed arms. What in blazes? With effort, Lily forced her eyes open once more and, this time, the world came back into focus.

Horror crept in with an agonizing slowness and then when it reached the surface, it unfurled—Derek sending her off, Claudia and Thomas’s treachery. Lily gave a frantic tug and tingling pain shot down her arms at the tight knots binding her wrists. She wrestled, struggling back and forth.

Faint weeping penetrated her own panic and Lily froze mid-movement. Her breath came hard and fast as she scanned her frantic gaze over the familiar room. And then her belly churned with nausea all over again for reasons that had nothing to do with pain. She took in the cheerful cottage, the modest chintz curtains, the matching floral upholstered sofa, and then she pressed her eyes closed to keep from casting the contents of her stomach upon the floor of this hated home—one she’d wished to never see again. And now she was here, as some kind of living hell with that very familiar little figure trussed up like a Christmas goose on the sofa opposite her.

“Mrs. B-Benedict,” Flora whispered, her face white. “I am scared.”

“Y
ou don’t welcome changes to your schedule.” The analytical observation from down the corridor brought a rush of heat up Derek’s neck.

“I also don’t welcome inane ramblings.” He infused a harsh edge to those words to deter further probing on Dr. Carlson’s part. What madness had compelled him to send ’round for the doctor this morning? Why, when it was just as the other man said and Derek preferred his well-ordered life without deviations or interruptions.
Because I am a friendless bugger, in need of a friend...