“Use the looking glass, Miss Bridge, you’ll see—on your shoulder and…well…lower.”
Oh, dear Lord. The maid had the right of it. Purplish, reddish marks marred her skin, exactly where Michael’s lips had been. Other areas were reddened from his whiskers. Good heavens, there was even a mark on her breast. “Oh, dear Lord!” This time she spoke the words aloud.
Half of her was livid with Michael for doing such a thing to her. Had he known? Had he realized what he was doing?
And then the other half, the wanton half of her, was thrilled. It was as though he had marked her for his own.
But she then had to face that third half of herself. That half her mother had instilled so thoroughly. These very marks that thrilled her somewhat were also a recipe for ruin! If her mother saw them she would be livid! And her father! Good heavens, if he were to know about any of this, he would likely try to kill Michael. What if he called him out? What if her father and Captain Redmond dueled?
Nobody must find out! She turned to the maid.
“Betty, are they permanent? Can we make them go away?”
“Nay, not permanent, but they do last about a week.” The maid surveyed Lilly’s skin closely. “We’ll conceal them with a high neckline and long sleeves today. As they fade, perhaps we can cover them with face paint.” Looking out the window, she sighed. “’Twould be more comfortable if the weather weren’t so warm, Miss Bridge.”
“It doesn’t matter, Betty. No one—and I mean not a single living soul—must ever see these…these…oh my God, I don’t even know what to call them. You are certain they are not permanent?” She implored the maid for reassurance.
Betty laughed. “Yes. They will disappear. More of a nuisance for now, miss.”
Lilly slipped into her chemise and then dropped onto the bench in front of the mirror. She then sat anxiously while Betty lifted Lilly’s hair to examine the extent of Michael’s handiwork. “Let me find a dress to cover this up. Not to worry, dearie. Nobody will be the wiser as to what your scoundrel has been up to.”
Lilly assessed herself in the mirror and then reached for a cloth that had been soaking in cool lavender water. Dabbing at the tender skin, she was amazed at Michael’s audacity. As she touched each mark with the cool rag, she recalled the sensations he’d aroused with his lips and hands and whiskers. A flush swept through her body, reddening her face and neck even further, as she relived a few of those moments.
Lilly held the cloth up to her face and inhaled deeply.
Before coming to London, she had dreamed of finding some fantasy man who would save her from marrying Lord Beauchamp. Such a man had been hazy, heroic, handsome, and unreal. Nothing could have prepared her for the emotions that had flared up between Michael and herself.
He was so much more than a fantasy.
He had lived an entire life without her. He was dashing, rakish, and wanted by many other women. She had seen the jealous looks sent her way. Debutantes and even some older women glared at her with envy.
And he was hers.
Better than a dream come true, for she couldn’t have dreamt up a man as honorable and complex as Captain Redmond.
Mrs. Redmond…Mrs. Captain Michael Redmond. And then she wondered. Was the wife of the second son of a duke a lady? She should know such things.
Lord and Lady Michael…ah yes, she loved the sound of that. If Michael was a lord, surely she would be a lady. Was he a lord?
Caught up in her daydreams, Lilly donned the high-necked dress Betty had chosen but was drawn back into the present when she saw her reflection once again.
She looked ridiculous! Why, it was nearly June!
Nobody would be so buttoned up in June…except perhaps her matronly aunt…and her mother. Good Lord her friends would think she’d gone batty!
Betty twisted Lilly’s hair into a tight chignon and laughed. “Don’t mind my saying so, but Miss Bridge, you hardly have any pins left for me to do your hair with.” Lilly just smiled at Betty in the mirror.
“I guess I’ll have to go shopping then.” With that, she smirked and bounded out of the room to find some breakfast.
She was ravenous.
CLOSE QUARTERS
1824
Even with eyes closed, Lilly felt Michael’s gaze upon her. Of course, he would have guessed she wasn’t sleeping. She focused upon remaining still, likely too still, when his boots grazed her ankles as he stretched his long legs.
His touch, even accidental, would always affect her. She nearly moaned at the thought.
