He didn’t know what to think, though he suspected there was some truth in what she’d said. But he couldn’t quite grasp why he would have taken her innocence and then left her behind. It wasn’t the sort of man he was.
“Our reunion was not at all what I anticipated.” She pulled out the silver chain with the ring and eyed him. “But my brother James told me that you suffered torture in India. And I believe that we should begin again as friends until you remember more.”
“I’d rather be left alone.”
Lily gave a slight nod. “I imagine so. And I suspect that it’s very difficult to return to all of this after what you endured.” She approached him, the strawberry still in her fingers. “But I will try anyway.” She braved a smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes.
“My name is Lily Thornton. My brother is James, the Earl of Penford, and I have a sister named Rose who recently learned to walk again after her illness. My mother is still living, but her mind wanders often.” She straightened. “Now you cannot say that you don’t know me.”
Matthew held his ground, not knowing what she wanted. But he tensed with every step she took. She moved slowly, her hazel eyes filled with worry. And something deep within him froze.
Lily halted an arm’s length away. His eyes had adjusted to the light, and the morning sun illuminated her delicate features. Another flash of memory intruded, of the sweet taste of her lips.
Her very presence ignited a desire so fierce, his hands dug into the wooden arms of the chair. In his imagination, he thought of dragging her down to his lap, devouring her mouth and giving in to the mindless beast of his lust. And he couldn’t understand why he had this response to her. Clearly, his body remembered hers.
Matthew didn’t move. Not even when she brought the strawberry to his mouth.
“Do you want this?” she asked softly. And for a breathless moment, he wondered if she was speaking of herself. He did want her desperately, but he would never trust himself to hold back. This woman was driving him toward madness.
He bit into the strawberry, tasting its sweetness. Hunger roared through him, and she held the discarded hull. “Do you want more?”
He did. But not only did he want food, he wanted to taste this woman’s mouth. He sensed that the last woman he had ever touched washer.The years of celibacy caught up with him, drowning him with needs.
He wanted to kiss her, to explore every inch of her skin and make her cry out in ecstasy. Instead, he stood from the chair. For a moment, he looked down at her, waiting to see whether she would flee or stay.
“I—I’ll get your tray,” she stammered, moving toward the table where his cold breakfast lay. She reached for it and paused a moment, as if she needed to gather her courage.
“Do you still want me to leave?” She remained standing apart from him, and he understood that his open interest had transformed her mood from determined into that of a nervous young woman. But she was the one who had chosen to come here.
“I don’t need you to feed me.” His voice was gruff, encouraging her to go. The longer she remained, the more her presence unnerved him.
But she ignored him and took off her glove. She set it upon the table before she reached out for a piece of toast and spread it with blackberry jelly. When she offered it to him, he saw that her hands were shaking. Matthew ate it to avoid speaking, though the bread tasted like sand in his mouth.
She rested her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, as if trying to decide what to say. “I waited for you, dreaming of the day when you would return. I never loved any man but you, Matthew.”
He could not respond, though he knew his silence bothered her deeply. It was clear that Lady Lily possessed a romantic heart. She had thought herself his wife and had spent the night in his arms. But any marriage vows they might have spoken could not have been legal. She had to have known that. Why, then, had she surrendered herself? And why would he have agreed to it?
He could hardly remember any of the marriage details. It was as if his mind had shut out the past, and every time he tried to reach back, there were only fragments of memories.
Lily reached for a fork, but her hand accidentally bumped against a teacup. The porcelain faltered upon the tray, before it tipped and shattered on the wooden floor. The sound was like a bullet coursing through his brain.
He jerked at the noise, his heart racing. In his mind, he heard his torturer’s voice, softly pleading,“Tell me where the soldiers are, and the pain will stop. I promise you.”
A cold sweat broke over him, but he refused to yield. Strong arms held down his ankles while a searing agony tore through his feet. The broken glass sliced through his burned soles, and she began again with the questioning.
“Tell me where they are…”
“Matthew!” Lily was shouting at him, but her voice was not enough to push away the vision. He didn’t know where he was or what was happening. “Let go of the cup. Please.”
He glanced down and saw that he had picked up the shattered porcelain, squeezing the broken shards into his palms until blood welled up in his hands.
The footman, Brownson, was already at his side. “My lord, let me help you bandage that.” He withdrew a handkerchief and pressed it gently into Matthew’s palm.
Lily stared at him with fear in her eyes. “What happened? What did you see?”
He could only shake his head, unable to form the words. “You should go, Lady Lily. I am not feeling well.”
She reached out to touch his cheek, but he pulled back, not wanting her to come close. Her expression held sympathy, but she finally stood and let Brownson escort her out.
