She let out a cry and entwined her arms around his neck.
In less than a moment, the years fell away.
She was his dream, his soulmate, his past, his future.
She was his everything.
He trailed his mouth along her jaw to the tender skin behind her ear. As he did so, she tilted her head back and a choked sob escaped her.
It was only a moment, a moment of madness, but he couldn’t help himself. She was a lifeline, an oasis, a portal to joy.
He was not a free man.
Gasping, hating himself, Michael tore himself away from her.
“Good God, what the hell am I doing? Have I no honor? No control? Haven’t I caused enough pain?” He couldn’t look at her as he knelt there, once again aware of the distant laughter and music floating across the grass. And then, like a man who’d had far too much to drink, he clumsily pulled her to her feet. As she stood, there was a tearing sound. One foot was still on the hem of her dress, and it ripped partially when she rose. “Oh hell!”
He assured himself that she was steady and then took one, two, three steps away.
Ignoring the lace which had detached from her gown, Lilly lifted her dress and fled as though the hounds of hell chased her. Barely able to comprehend his own actions, he watched her disappear.
This was madness!
Anybody could have come across them! Jilting his fiancée was not an option. An honorable man did not break off his engagement! There was far too much at stake!
For nearly a decade he had done all he could to uphold the honor and integrity of his father’s and brother’s legacy. Was it all to be for naught?
Furthermore, the political alliance he’d been so carefully building could fall apart. If the amendment failed, it was likelythe current laws would remain and England would be that much closer to revolt.
He must get himself back into that ballroom by Lady Natalie’s side, and he must not allow his baser instincts to get the better of him again. He could not think about Lilly now. They must set the past to rest once and for all.
It was the Duke of Cortland who smoothed the creases on his pants and brushed his hair back before turning to walk toward the ballroom. He would enter via the terrace. Alone.
Glancing at his hand, he realized it was shaking. A tremor ran through him.
What must Lilly have endured all those years, married to a man who resented her, or even worse, hated her and considered her unworthy of respect? Why had he not considered the possibility of this? The duke pushed these thoughts out of his mind.
It would be time for the supper dance. He strode purposefully back into the ballroom.
MICHAEL’S EVIL FIANCÉE
Upon Michael’s words, Lilly took one look at his face and an icy cold swept through her. He’d come to his senses and already regretted holding her. She did not want to hear him apologize again. She could not bear to hear it.
And so she fled.
Clutching her dress, lifting it so she wouldn’t trip over the torn hem, she rushed to find the door they had used earlier.
But they had not been alone in the garden.
In her haste, she nearly collided with an older gentleman leaning against a column along the veranda, holding a lit cigar. In hopes that he hadn’t been there long, she nodded hesitantly and skirted around him.
Thankfully, she managed to find her way to the ladies retiring room without encountering anyone else. Had that gentleman outside overheard her conversation with Michael? She refused to allow the thought to take up residence in her mind. She simply did not have room for it.
“Ma’am.” A young maid jumped to attention as Lilly entered the retiring room. Thank God no other guests were present.
But glancing in the mirror, Lilly realized, besides her torngown, her appearance was surprisingly normal. Unless one examined her closely. The knot in her hair was loosened, and her lips were slightly swollen. She addressed the maid. “Do you have a needle and thread?”
“Aye, my lady, ’tis what I am employed for.” She rummaged through a basket and pulled out a navy spool. The girl threaded the needle and then went straight to work on Lilly’s dress. “Won’t take me but a moment,” she commented, weaving the needle through the muslin. “I can fix up your hair, too, if you’d like.”
