Scoundrel (9 page)

“Are we back to that again?” He rolled his eyes. “Lack of sleep begins to make me irritable. I’ve presented a sensible solution to your dilemma. Until I can escort you to
West Wycombe
, you will be much safer here than you would be on the mail coach. Now, it’s time for you to decide. Either you walk upstairs to the guest room, or I carry you there. One way or another, I intend to be asleep in my own bed within a quarter hour. Which will it be?”

“I want to leave!”

His expression made Lily wonder if she should have tried tears in the first place. They wrought a remarkable change in his manner. In an instant, the determination in his expression faded to a look of uncertainty and concern. He reached for one of her hands to give it an ineffectual pat. “You are overset, Lily. Little wonder after everything you’ve been through.”

She began to cry harder. Remmington looked hesitant for a moment, then he drew her into his arms. The black satin of his robe felt warm and sleek beneath her hands. She turned her head to rest her cheek against the soft material, all too aware of the hard flesh it covered. The temptation was too great. Lily felt herself melt against his chest, conceding the argument, surrendering herself to his care.

He couldn’t know what he’d just done. Her father would be beside himself when he learned she was here.

What could he possibly say to Remmington’s offer? She wondered if there was a safe house in
West Wycombe
. The possibility seemed remote.

“There will be no more talk of the mail coach,” he said. “I’m taking you upstairs. It’s obvious you need sleep to recover from your ordeal. In any event, it’s nearly dawn and you’ll never reach the Two Swans in time.”

“I will.” Her tearful declaration carried little weight. It would take a miracle to get her to the Two Swans before the coaches departed. They both knew it.

“You won’t,” he countered. He lifted her into his arms, then carried her from the library.

The sudden shift from standing upright to being carried made her dizzy. In truth, she couldn’t say if it was the change in position, or the man who held her that accounted for the reaction. She pushed against his chest. “Put me down this instant. This is indecent!”

“I’d call it sensible.” He ignored her feeble struggles and carried her up the stairs. “Your father’s harebrained scheme to send you off on a public mail coach is what I would call indecent.”

“But you don’t understand!”

He gave her a wry look, then nudged open one of the doors that lined the hallway at the top of the steps. They entered a feminine-looking bedchamber that smelled of stale lavender. He placed her none too gently on the ruffled bed, then stepped back to cross his arms. “I understand more than you think.”

The certainty of his words made her breath catch. He’d kept her too distracted to concentrate on what she said. Had she let something slip?

“You are worried about my reasons for keeping you here.”

“I am?” She stifled a sigh of relief. Her secret was safe for the moment.

“Yes, you are.” He walked over to the fireplace and absently rearranged the small figurines that sat on the mantel. “Some men might use this opportunity to take advantage of a woman.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “I am not that type of man. You will be as safe with me as you would be with your father. Perhaps safer, given his notions about protecting you.” He held up one hand to cut off the objection she tried to make. “We got off to a bad start at the ball last night. I know I hurt your feelings. Look at this as my way of making amends. I will take you to
West Wycombe
tomorrow, then we can make a fresh start of things when you return. If you can manage as much, I would like you to forget what happened at the Ashlands’.”

Their ill-fated meeting at the Ashlands’ ball was the last thing on Lily’s mind. Finding some way to get from this house to
Brighton
and not inadvertently end up in
West Wycombe
was her biggest worry at the moment. Already the bedroom windows reflected the rosy colors of dawn. She sighed in defeat. It had been such a simple plan. He’d managed to unravel it completely.

“You have no choice but to stay here,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts.

She stared out the window and refused to look at him. “You’ve left me no choice.”

She didn’t hear him step closer to the bed. His touch startled her when his hand captured her chin, a silent command to look up at him. “Don’t be afraid of me, Lily. I’m only thinking of your safety.”

His fingers brushed across her cheek and she finally lifted her lashes to look into his eyes. She could lose herself in those inky depths. Every emotion she’d ever felt about him rushed to the surface; anger and admiration, yearning and desire, jealousy and hope. No matter what went before, the attraction she felt for him remained.

His hand cupped her face in a gentle embrace that drew her closer. His gaze reminded her of the hypnotic attraction that drew a moth to a flame. She closed her eyes and drew a ragged breath. That fire could destroy her.

At last his hand slid away and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had hoped he would kiss her,
wanted
him to kiss her. It shamed her to know he could affect her so easily.

“I think it’s best if I leave now.” His voice sounded strained and her gaze traveled no higher than the scowl that curved his lips. “There will be a guard in the hallway.” He pointed toward a door next to her bed. “My room is through this door. I thought you might rest easier knowing that no one will be able to enter your room.” He hesitated a moment, started to say something, then changed his mind. Shaking his head, he said, “It’s been a long night, Lily. Try to get some rest. I’ll wake you when I return from my meeting with your father.”

Remmington paced his library like a caged tiger. He wanted to break something. How could he have been so stupid?

“Your Grace?” Digsby asked from the doorway.

“About time you showed up.” He’d sent for Digsby less than a minute ago, the same minute he’d arrived home from his meeting with Crofford. “Wake that damned woman and send her down here, immediately.”

“Would the damned woman be Miss Gretchen or Lady Lillian?”

Remmington glared at him. “Don’t play thick-skulled with me, Digsby. I’ve had my fill of dealing with fools for one day and I still have—” His next order came from between clenched teeth. “I want Lady Lillian in this room immediately.”

Digsby bowed and retreated as Remmington picked up the brandy he’d just poured. For a moment he considered flinging the glass against the door as it swung closed. It was tempting, but instead he drank the fiery liquid, then slammed the empty glass down on his desk. “Of all the stupid, asinine, inconceivable…” Remmington continued to mutter as he paced the floor and recalled the events that led to his fury.

Ensconced in one of White’s private rooms, the meeting with Lily’s father shouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes. He’d intended to inform Crofford of the change in his daughter’s travel plans, then return home and take Lily to
West Wycombe
posthaste. He’d known when he left her room that morning that he had to get her out of his house as soon as possible. A guilty conscience could override baser instincts for only so long. She would turn white as a sheet if she had any idea of the thoughts that went through his head every time he touched her. He wanted her. Badly.

His simple plan to rid himself of temptation went awry from the start, from the moment he informed Crofford of Lily’s whereabouts and announced his intention to have her travel to
West Wycombe
in his carriage.

“Good God,” Crofford had whispered. “That won’t do at all, Remmington. No, not at all.”

“You cannot intend to send her on the mail coach,” he pointed out, puzzled by the earl’s objection. He’d expected gratitude, not a look of horror. “There are few incidents on the mail coaches these days, yet there will be no question of her safety in a Remmington coach. No one will suspect she is inside, or have any clue as to her whereabouts. It is simply the most logical option.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Crofford said. “Lily mustn’t go to
West Wycombe
.”

“Do you care to tell me why not?”

“Certainly.”

He’d waited patiently for the explanation, and wondered in the long silence if Crofford misunderstood the question.

“Aunt Amelia isn’t in
West Wycombe
.” Crofford’s announcement was blunt, his explanation almost rushed. “I sent for my solicitor this morning to arrange additional funds for Aunt Amelia’s allowance, and the man reminded me that the lady went on holiday to
Italy
over a month ago. Afraid it slipped my mind entirely last night, what with all the commotion. Surely you understand how difficult it is to keep track of relatives. One never knows if they’re coming or going. I didn’t become too concerned, because I already had your message stating that Lily’s travel plans had changed, and that I shouldn’t worry. I thought perhaps she missed the coach and it was all for the best because Aunt Amelia isn’t in
West Wycombe
. And you see? It was all for the best. Aunt Amelia isn’t in
West Wycombe
at all. Lily would have been quite at sixes and sevens in
West Wycombe
.”

Remmington stared at the earl in silence. He wondered if the man realized what a menace his daughter was to anyone’s peace of mind. Sending her off to stay with an elderly aunt was hardly a sound idea. Sending her on a public coach was unthinkable. If he hadn’t interceded this morning, Lily would be stranded in
West Wycombe
at this moment, alone and probably very frightened. He was tempted to tell the earl exactly what he thought of his half-baked plans. If Lily were his, he wouldn’t allow her out of his sight.

When a question that wasn’t insulting came to mind, he tried his best to contain his sarcasm. “So where do you intend to send Lily, now that you are reminded of Aunt Amelia’s holiday to
Italy
?”

“
Italy
is rather pleasant this time of year.” Crofford rubbed his chin. “Lily could secure passage on one of the ships that leave from
Brighton
. The mail coaches run there, too, don’t you know. I’m certain she could manage the trip with little difficulty. No need to bother yourself over this matter, Your Grace. If you would be so good as to escort Lily to the Two Swans tomorrow morning, she can continue her journey with this slight change of itinerary.”