George paced off, flexing his hands at his sides. “My reputation. The fact I’m twelve years older than Miss Westinghouse. Lily was married to Thomas Manning somehow, can you believe it?”
There was a slight pause, but then Kirkwood said, “Old Manning?”
George nodded as he turned back. “Her sister has told me it was a happy marriage, but I wonder if it wasn’t and that’s influencing her feelings about me. I need to speak to her about it.”
Kirkwood’s lips pursed. “I see.”
“What does that tone mean?”
“Lily”—Kirkwood accentuated her first name, leaving George to wonder if he’d slipped and used it, himself. He didn’t think he had, despite the fact he only thought of her by her first name now—“is a beautiful woman.”
“Fuck off.” George glared at him, at his implication, even if it was perfectly true. Kirkwood implied he was attracted to her. He hated to admit that he was. It made him the exact bastard she believed him to be, didn’t it? And somehow he wanted to prove her wrong. He didn’t want her to see him as a villain, even if he feared he was.
Kirkwood rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll change the subject. The chaos truly begins tomorrow, with the arrival of the close friends. Delacourt and Ramsbury will be here then. They’re going to see through you, too.”
“That’s wonderful. You can all see whatever you all want, and gossip about it like a sewing circle if it makes you happy. But I said it once and I’ll say it again: whatever you think you see or know, it changesnothing. I made a promise to marry Miss Westinghouse and I will. No one will stand in my way. Not you, not them, not Lily.”
He pivoted to leave the room and it was only in the hallway that he realized he haddefinitelyused her first name that time. And it only proved his friend’s point further.
* * *
Lily was early when she came down for the drinks before supper that night and since she didn’t wish to be the first one in the parlor, she entered the library instead. At least the books would be good companions. She didn’t feel as though she was, herself. Her anxiety seemed to grow with every passing hour, even as she smiled and played cards with the women in the family and went on walks with her sister in the beautiful garden.
In the back of her mind, a constant refrain through it all, wasLockhart,Lockhart,Lockhart. Images of their night together would mix with her fears about her sister’s future and it only resulted in nausea and worry.
She had taken two steps into the room when she came to a dead stop. As if she had conjured him with all her endless thoughts, Lockhart stood there at one of the tall bookcases, a novel dangling from his fingertips as he stared at her. She stared back and for what felt like forever, neither of them said anything.
The book clattered to the ground and the loud sound broke the spell. He muttered something beneath his breath as he bent to gather it back up and she swallowed hard before she spoke. “Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll go.”
She pivoted to do just that, but he lunged forward a long step and held out an hand as if to stop her. “Oh, please don’t leave.”
She stopped at the request and stared out at the escape of the hallway. Then she slowly turned to face him with what she hoped was a neutral expression. “Is there something you require, my lord?”
He shifted slightly, his discomfort as clear as her own. “You wanted to have a discussion with me last night at supper and I stopped it. But we’re alone now, so it seems the best time to have it at last.”
Lily worried her lower lip. Shehadwanted to put her fears about Alice’s future into the open with him, but now it felt very dangerous to do so. Everything about this man felt dangerous. Yet she couldn’t think of a way out of the situation, so she nodded. “Very well. Though if you think later would be better…”
“Tomorrow the friends will begin to arrive and then more and more guests afterward.” For a brief moment, his expression grew troubled. “And then it will all be exhibition until the end.”
“The end,” she repeated. That didn’t sound like a man happy to be marrying, it sounded like someone being marched to his doom. “You will be very busy, yes.”
He smiled a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, my parents will be. I must just stand and smile.”
“I see.” She knew she sounded cold. In that moment she even managed to feel it at his description.
The smile fell from his lips and he ran his hand through his hair. She caught her breath, for when he mussed himself a little he looked even more like he had the night at the Donville Masquerade when he’d been all sin and reckless abandon.
“I suppose all that aligns with your concerns about me.”
She forced her thoughts back to the moment and nodded. “I admit, it does. But I do want to apologize for being so forward at supper. To broach so tender a subject in a public forum was uncalled for. However, it doesn’t change my fears.”
He nodded slowly and then motioned to the chairs before the fire. “Will you sit with me and tell me more about those fears?”
She glanced at the comfortable chairs. They were turned toward each other and close together. Like they were meant for intimate reading with a friend or lover. It all felt too warm in that moment. Too close. But again, she had no choice here, so she took one seat and watched him fold his lanky body into the other. Their knees nearly touched and when he draped his arms over his thighs and leaned closer, fully focusing on her and whatever she would say, she almost couldn’t breathe.
It was only thoughts of Alice that spurned her forward. “I-I hardly know where to begin.”
He smiled again. “With my wicked reputation? Or perhaps the rumors of my layabout habits?”
