The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (97 page)

Perry held her, his thumbs tracing her lower lip. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, Lilly Steele of Kelso. Beautiful within and without.” He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Don’t you ever hide your face from anyone. Not ever again, do you hear me? I am the only one ever allowed to see a bit of this hair long and flowing around you. Is that perfectly understood?”

She nodded and reached up to the ribbon that wove its way through her curls. Giving it a slight tug, she felt it untie, then unravel, her hair spilling around her shoulders as he watched.

He grabbed handfuls of her hair, smoothing it and pushing it away from her face. “I have waited all of my life to find you, sweet Lilly. If only I had known where you were, I could have saved you from all the pain.”

She let her speech slip. “No, milord, ‘twould have done not a bit of good. For were I not this person, with all my damage, and were you not this man, with all his experience, we, neither one of us, would have looked to the other for one moment, much less endeavored to do what we have done.”

Perry considered what she said. He nodded as understanding set in. Were he not the rake, and she not broken, there would have been no need for them to meet. No need whatsoever. Under other circumstances he would never have noticed her.

Lilly smiled up at him, nestling into his side. “And how many children do you want?”

“As many as Westcreek Park will hold, I imagine, though perhaps we should get married and be done with my guardianship before we start on another brood.”

“And when will we be married?”

He looked forward as he rubbed his chin. “We will be married within a sennight. We will quit London immediately and head to Gretna, where I will pledge my troth and you will be my wife. Then we will spend a few nights hidden away somewhere, returning to Eildon Hill in time to see my brother fall to his fate.”

“I like it, I think it perfect, and I cannot wait to tell my family, to see my family, when we arrive for His Grace’s wedding.”

“They’ll probably not recognize you. After all, they won’t be looking for you in this dress.”

“This dress? I have others I could wear.”

Perry shook his head firmly. “Oh no, my sweet Lilly, this dress that my aunt had made will be the perfect dress to wear to my brother’s wedding. I cannot wait to see you in it again. Tomorrow we should go by Calder House to explain what will happen next, or the duchess will have the entire country set out to find us, and that certainly will not do. But for tonight, tonight you are mine.” His hands grasped her hips and drew her toward him. “You’ll be in my bed, and we’ll not be disturbed. Tonight, I make you my wife in deed,” he said gruffly. The rocking of the carriage shifting them as one, as he let his pronouncement sink in, the only sounds the creak of the springs and the breath between them.

“Lilly?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like your family at our wedding? We could arrange for Kelso. It might require a favor or two, but I could make this happen.”

“Perry,” she said, with no more than a breath.

“Yes, my sweet?”

“I love you.”

“And I love you, well beyond the boundaries of my heart.”

Perry sat at the keys and considered the night before. He leaned across the board. Resting his elbow on the piano, he started a scale, his fingers gliding across the keys like the wings of a butterfly. The tones started rich and deep, then rose to fight his somber mood.

It was difficult to believe that Hepplewort was still causing problems. He had to protect Lilly, particularly since Hepplewort was now aware of her. The scale trilled up and back down and he shifted forward on the bench. Lilly, who he had left to sleep in after the trials he put her through once they’d made it back to the house. He had given her the pearls, and they had been truly beautiful. It had been the most passionate night of his life. His other hand met the first and he commanded the notes to come forth, fill the room, his senses, his need.

It must have been all the emotion roiling through them. In his life he’d never expected to be so close to another human. He’d never expected to share such a glorious connection. And they were to be married soon. He needed to send a message to Calder House, to let his aunt know they would be late. Lilly needed rest. He felt his cock stir at the very thought of their exertion. She had allowed so much, learned so much, given so much, and he was forever in her hold. Mastered. The crescendo grew.

He heard movement behind him and shifted, quickly closing the fall over the keys and rising from the bench.

“Lilly. I didn’t know you were here. I—” He cleared his throat. She watched him closely as he stumbled out from behind the bench.

“You play.” It was a quiet statement, not a question.

“Well. Yes, I do. I don’t very well announce such, though. The image of tortured artist would do wonders for my rakehell reputation,” he said sardonically.

She pursed her lips. “Your reputation. I see. Still quite concerned with that, are you, my lord?”

He stopped. “I—well. There, you have me.”

Her smile broadened and she pulled a chair closer to the bench. “Well, then?” she said, sweeping her hand toward the instrument.

He turned, his knee brushing the corner of the bench and making him stumble again. He caught it before it toppled and cast her a nervous grin. He sat down, his wrists hovering above the keys, his fingers gently caressing the ivory just below. He cleared his throat, then clasped his hands, cracking his knuckles before repositioning his fingers.

Lilly waited serenely, her eyes trained on those long fingers she had come to know so well. They fluttered over the keys again and he heard her breath catch.

With that small sound the music flowed through him, to the strings of the piano, each note carried in precise tension throughout the room.

Her breathing caught the rhythm of the notes, her chest rising and falling in deep waves. He saw her knees tighten, her fingers curl into her skirts.

He built the crescendo, drawing the tension as far as he could before letting it drift softly back to earth. He closed his eyes and his body swayed. He felt the strain of the notes, pulled them into his gut then let them spiral through his veins, flowing back out to circle again toward him.

Lilly had never seen anyone play, much less been close enough to feel the tremor from the instrument below her feet as the chords left the strings and traveled to her. She watched closely as Perry’s eyes fell closed and his brow stitched, the concentration in every line of his body. This wasn’t something she had imagined when considering this man. The beauty and the passion. Her gaze fell once again to his fingers; watching them skim the ivory had her belly in knots, and she clenched her knees together to fight the sudden whirls of energy fluttering inside her.

She stood ever so slowly, not wanting to disturb his concentration but needing to feel. She slipped her shoes off and stepped quietly to the side of the grand piano to lean into it. She placed her hands on the giant lid that was closed over the strings to mute the sound. Spreading her fingers, she felt the reverberation of each note. She closed her eyes and her breath quickened.

Then the music fell away.

She turned to find him regarding her.

“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Well, you have led a most sheltered life.”

She noted there were no music sheets. “How...”

“It just comes to me, or I remember it. My mother was very talented. She used to play, and I was able to pick things up by ear. Later my father paid for a few lessons. Possibly to keep me from underfoot while he dealt with my brother.”

“What of your mother then?”

“She was already gone.”

Lilly turned away as he stood.

His hand reached up to her face, his thumb brushing the tear from her cheek. “There is no need to cry for the past.”

She leaned into him. “It was not for the past, but for the music. I do not know how to describe how it felt. It filled me, it was...” She shook her head.

He turned her and lifted her, setting her upon the lid. “Let me tell you about my piano.”

She protested and he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning toward her.

“This is an 1868 Streicher Concert Grand. Handmade of rosewood, for me, in Vienna.” He ran his hand over the smooth surface. “The very same type of piano that Brahms uses for his compositions.” He looked at her hopefully.

She shook her head.

He pulled her skirts up and wrapped her legs around his waist, then lifted her from the piano. She squealed and locked her arms around his neck.