The Price of Temptation Page 18

  Baffled, the bluestocking looked from Lily to Adam and back again. She stumbled over her tongue. “Oh, of course. I’ll read it straightaway and…”

  “Take your time. Savor it. Someone ought to.”

  Adam threaded his fingers through hers, the gesture intimate and possessive. When he raised her hand to his lips, his eyes flared with heat. He lingered over her knuckles, teasing her sensitive skin with his lips. “If you haven’t a book to steal away your time, the more for me. I’ll fetch this one for you before I next go out on business, I promise.”

  Despite the quivering in her belly, she managed a breathless answer. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “You can hold me to anything you’d like.”

  His low, intimate tone made it impossible for her to look away. She licked her lips, unwilling to speak and shatter the moment.

  Miss Granby cleared her throat. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Darling, but I’m afraid I’m expected at home. Good day.” As the young woman turned away, her color was nearly as vivid as the covers of her books.

  Lily couldn’t blame her. She felt rather scalded, herself. As Adam ushered her from the shop, businesslike, she rubbed the back of her hand where his lips had touched her. The passion he’d inspired had been buried.

  But what if she wanted it—wanted him—again?

  …

  After Lily had awoken alone in that hotel room in Bristol, stripped of every happiness she’d planned for herself, she had shored up the chasm in her chest by devoting herself to her work with Papa. Far too soon after, the work had become necessity when he had no longer been there to do it. Four years later, she used the excuse of work to conceal the flurry of emotions she didn’t want to feel about Adam. This time, it took the form of long conversations with her sister about Godwin, conversations she memorized and parroted back to Adam in the evenings.

  Less than a week later, she received the letter she had been waiting for every morning. Have you found a copy of Fleetwood for yourself? If not, I would be delighted to lend you mine. I owe you a book after how you came to my rescue.

  Not an invitation, but in Lily’s mind, it was as good as one.

  Her pulse fluttering in her throat, Lily rapped on the door to a towering townhouse. It was located in Mayfair, a short walk from Hyde Park, on an avenue that made her feel as if she didn’t belong.

  Even when the world had seemed to be spread out at her feet, a privilege she hadn’t realized could be removed with the revolution of the earth, the residents of Mayfair had turned up their noses at her. If they knew she worked for a living, they would slam their doors in her face.

  If they knew she had come to steal, they would drag her to Bow Street in the boots of their carriages.

  Gritting her teeth, Lily forced a demure smile as the door opened to reveal a sharp-eyed, middle-aged man. “I’m here to see Miss Granby, if she’s in. I’m Mrs. Darling, a friend.”

  Lily clung to the name, the persona that felt easier to don with every repetition.

  “Wait here, please,” the manservant requested as he stepped aside.

  Lily entered the foyer, nodding and pulling off her gloves one finger at a time as he retreated into the bowels of the house. The dark walls, portraits of long-dead ancestors glaring down at her, seemed to close in around her. She breathed in short, quick breaths and reassured herself that her persona was intact.

  She was Lily Darling, scholar of Egyptian antiquities and an admirer of William Godwin’s novels. She had practiced for this.

  By the time the footman returned, she had composed herself. He took her shawl and led her through the house toward a room overburdened with potted plants. Nestled between the foliage were small, delicate works of art. Hand-sized portraits of various angles of the house, presumably the garden out back, and figures including Miss Granby, young and more mature.

  Lily sat on the plain sofa, spreading her skirts. She accepted a steaming cup of tea and a plate of seedcake from a maidservant without looking at her, too enthralled with the jungle surrounding her. When she roused herself to attend the vittles, she found her tea tepid. How long should she wait?

  Fortunately, not much longer. When Miss Granby sailed into the room, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright behind her spectacles. She was half dressed, her dressing gown pulled on over a placket-front dress and her hair loose around her shoulders. Lily frowned at her.

  “Forgive me. If I had known you would not be up at this hour…” She craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the grandmother clock in the corner. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon.

  “It’s no fault of yours. I got caught up in my books and didn’t notice when I splashed ink on myself. Repeatedly. I had to wash. So sorry to keep you waiting, I hope you don’t mind my state of undress.”

  “Not at all,” Lily lied. The woman’s youthful disarray made Lily think of her as one of her sisters. A dangerous notion. She had enough misgivings regarding this course of action without growing fond of the victim. She swallowed a mouthful of cold tea to wet her throat. “Your letter indicated that you finished Fleetwood?”

  Miss Granby brightened as she dropped into the seat opposite. Without asking, she helped herself to the seedcake Lily had left unfinished. “Oh yes, I’ll have Geoffrey fetch the volume for you.” She raised her hand, and someone—presumably a footman waiting in the corridor—retreated.

  “Smashing. After the way you sang the book’s praises in your note, I’m looking forward to reading it. It promises to be a book worth remembering.”

  Miss Granby held her hand over her mouth as she swallowed. “Oh, yes. I was up all night finishing it. I couldn’t put it down.”

  “What of your other purchases? Have they been neglected?”

  “Actually, I’ve become rather fascinated with New Holland of late. In fact, I was just copying out some passages from Prodromus Entomology for a friend. It’s a fascinating look at the insects in New South Wales. Oh, how I wish to visit someday. I have both volumes of Novae Hollandiae Plantarum Specimen as well. Do you have any interest in the colony? It sounds terribly exciting to be so far from home. I’ll have Geoffrey fetch the volumes to show you some of the renderings.”

  Lily wasn’t squeamish, but neither did she want to spend her afternoon discussing insects. However, for the next hour, she found herself doing precisely that, gritting her teeth and nodding at the tirade of words that constantly spilled from Miss Granby’s mouth. She’d moved to the settee next to Lily, the better to share the book between them. With her finger poised over the illustration of a particularly grotesque moth, the young woman turned a frightening shade of plum.

  She clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’ve been talking too much. I’m terribly sorry. I start on a tangent and I forget others in the room.” Chagrined, she shut the book and laid it reverently atop the stack sitting next to Lily’s teacup. Looking down, the young woman smoothed her skirts. “Please, Mrs. Darling, do tell me what you’re reading. I’d love to hear it.”

  On any other day, Lily might have fumbled for an answer. For once, she was grateful for the copious amounts of research she had been doing. “I’m currently reading a book of Egyptian myths. Their pantheon is rather fantastical. Are you familiar with it?”

  Miss Granby’s lips parted on an inhale, but the look in her eyes dulled. She tucked her hair behind her ear and straightened her books, the most close-lipped she’d been since Lily had arrived. “I see. Yes, I am familiar.”

  Lily matched her frown. “Do you not care for mythology?”

  “No, I do…”

  “Then you object to the subject. Does Egypt bore you?”

  The young woman plucked at her skirts as she subtly shuffled away. “No, it’s perfectly fascinating. It’s just…” When she looked up, pain pinched her mouth. “You’re the woman from Lord Ednam’s soirée, aren’t you? Pa
pa extolled your virtues for days afterward. You identified the mummy as a forgery.”

  Lily opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Your father has been talking about me?”

  Glumly, the young woman said, “He has. He was impressed with your discovery, when Lord Ednam—who likes to think of himself as Mayfair’s expert on Egypt, despite Papa’s opinion to the contrary—had been duped by the seller. Lord Ednam, as I understand it, has been rather close-lipped about the ordeal as he calls in experts to check the veracity of your claim, but Papa thinks he’s simply too embarrassed to admit that you were correct.”

  “I…see.” The silence lengthened between them, laden with an uncomfortable awareness. Lily felt as though a hundred eyes bored into her, eager for her persona to slip. Miss Granby, studying the tips of her house slippers as she kicked them along the rug, belonged to none of them. “I may not be. Correct, that is. I surmised based on the state of the jewelry I discovered. It’s possible the jewelry might have been stolen and replaced.”

  Miss Granby said nothing at all, her mouth in a hard line.

  Desperate to reawaken the woman’s animation, Lily grappled for another topic. “You have a lovely home, Miss Granby. These portraits are spectacular. Are you the artist?”

  The young woman shook her head. “My mother.”

  “She’s very talented. I don’t suppose there are more such portraits throughout the house? I’d love to see them?”

  Miss Granby’s mouth pressed into the thinnest of lines. “I know why you’re here.”

  Lily looked down at the Godwin book teetering off the edge of the table.

  Miss Granby glowered. “You want to look at Papa’s artifacts. He has the most famed collection of Egyptian artifacts in London. I thought…” She pressed her lips together so tightly that a white ribbon formed around them.

  Lily wanted to do more than that. What would Miss Granby think of her if she knew of Lily’s true goal? She bit the inside of her cheek hard to mask the twinge of emotion pricking her conscience.

  When the young woman lifted her head, her hair framing her face and making her look younger, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You’re wasting your time, Mrs. Darling. You will be unable to see Papa’s collection today. He only brings it out during the exclusive dinner parties he hosts, as it gives him particular pride.” Her tongue curled around the phrase with disdain. With a look of pain, she nodded at the book between them. “Do you truly intend to read that?”

  Lily snatched it off the table and held it to her chest. “I do.” The spine dug into her hand. For any other book, she wouldn’t have cared, but a foolish part of her didn’t want Miss Granby to think their interactions were a lie. No matter that it was the truth.

  Not to mention, Sophie would delight in reading it. Perhaps she would even forgive Lily her secrets.

  Miss Granby adjusted her spectacles higher on her nose. “You will? You aren’t only interested in antiquities?”

  “Of course not. Are you only interested in British novels? We all have varied interests.”

  Color infused the young woman’s cheeks. She looked away again. “You’re right. Of course you are. I feel like a heel.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes, beneath her spectacles. When she removed them, a glint had entered her eyes. “If you’re still interested in examining Papa’s collection, I can ensure you are invited to the next dinner party. He has one every month.”

  Lily narrowed her eyes. After the way Miss Granby had railed at her, this felt too easily accomplished. Not to mention, Lily recognized that look in the bluestocking’s eyes. Adam had worn that look when they’d first met.

  “What would you like from me in return?”

  Miss Granby smiled. “It’s simple. If a scholarly woman like you can marry a man as handsome as your husband, then you should be able to do this for me without trouble. I’d like you to teach me how to flirt.”

  Lily laughed, the sound ringing in the silence as the woman next to her stared intently. Her mirth shrank as she realized that Miss Granby was not jesting. “You want me to teach you how to flirt?”

  “Yes. I want to know how to catch a man’s eye and you are precisely the woman to show me how to do it.”

  To this day, Lily wasn’t certain what had drawn Adam to her. When at Society events, she had adopted a demure persona that most people overlooked. Not Adam. Somehow, he had seen through her mask to the person beneath.

  He had always seen her, always appreciated her.

  But if this was what Miss Granby wanted, Lily would give it to her without question. It shouldn’t be too difficult to teach. After all, Lily had a lifetime of watching her sisters snare the eyes of every man with a pulse.

  “Very well. Would you like to start now or shall I return another day?”

  “Now, please,” Miss Granby answered with a decisive nod. “I don’t think we have a moment to lose.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Use every weapon in your arsenal to capture a man’s eye—a flattering dress, color in your cheeks, your figure while you walk.

  As Lily left the Granby townhouse, still thinking of the advice she’d cobbled together for Miss Granby, she hummed under her breath. The cool afternoon air enlivened her. She smiled, awash with triumph.

  “How did it go?”

  Adam’s voice in her ear made her gasp. His hand settled on the small of her back, possessive and anchoring at once. Thoughts of flirting still circling her head, Lily slowed and emphasized the sway of her walk. His hand brushing her back was hypnotic.

  She turned her face up to his, smiling. “You mean to tell me you didn’t infiltrate the household to learn of the outcome yourself?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. He licked his bottom lip before teasing, “I was a fly on the wall. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “There were a great many flies in that room, I imagine. It was a veritable jungle, with all the houseplants.”

  As they paused on the street corner to let a carriage pass, Adam leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Are you going to make me guess our fate?”

  “Only if you feel you’ve done enough research.”

  His fingers grazed her back as he removed his hand, turning to face her fully. He pursed his lips, a mock studious expression on his face. “I am a lifelong scholar of the school of Lily Darling.”

  Somehow, the way he said her married name made it sound far more intimate than when others addressed her.

  When he lightly traced the corner of her mouth, her lips opened on a gasp. His eyes twinkled with dark mischief. “The evidence is here.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “And here.” He lifted his hand to graze his fingers over her temple. “And here.”

  His voice had dropped to a whisper. Lily shivered, overwhelmed by the sensation from what she hadn’t heretofore considered an erotic spot. She licked her lips as he leaned closer, his breath teasing the shell of her ear.

  “I think you were brilliant.”

  “I think you’re biased,” she answered, breathless.

  He raised an eyebrow as he retreated to a respectable distance. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You aren’t. I won her over. She promised to remember us to her father.”

  He winked. “That’s the woman I married.”

  Lily hadn’t felt married in years. However, since their day in the study when she’d promised to count him as a partner in this matter, something between them had changed. Small glances. Hours spent lying awake, wondering if he would knock on the adjoining door. He hadn’t touched her, even teasingly, until now.

  Use every weapon in your arsenal.

  She took his arm and led him not in the direction of home, but toward Hyde Park. He took the change in stride, following her lead without protest. Perhaps he craved a few more moments alone with her before they had to contend with the chaperones her siste
rs had become. The moment the hedgerows loomed around him, she backed him into the shadow. Her hand lingered on his arm, tracing his sleeve as he had her face.

  She’d never seen a man look so intense. “Lily, what…”

  “Hush.” She rose on tiptoe, balancing herself against the hard wall of his chest as she brushed her mouth over his. “I’m seducing you.”

  He shut his eyes with a strangled groan. “We’re in public. You’ll scandalize Mayfair.”

  She tasted the soft curve of his lower lip. “What will they do to us? We’re already married.”

  His breath shuddered against her lips. His dark eyelashes softened his face, making him look more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him before. He was always the man at the center of everyone’s attention, the confident man with the easy smile. He enticed others to lower their guards; he rarely showed what hid beneath his mask. With her, he’d often been open, but never vulnerable.

  When she clutched his shoulders and pressed her mouth more firmly to his, she found him pliant. His docility lasted a fraction of a second before his natural dominance won out and he kissed her as though his life depended upon it. He pinned her against his body with his arm around her waist and languidly tasted her. The thrust of his tongue left her weak-kneed, a growing ache between her legs. She needed this. It had been too long.

  He kissed her as though relearning her. But this slow, torturous melding of their mouths was far from the seduction she had in mind. Lily wanted to drive him mindless with pleasure. Pressing her hips against him, she slid her fingers into his hair and took charge of the kiss, turning it urgent. He matched her, his roving hands splaying across her back and moving down, over the dip of her waist to…

  He released her and broke the kiss, gasping for air. “We can’t do this.”

  She dropped down onto her heels, mortification flaming her cheeks. He was right. They were in Hyde Park, where anyone might happen upon them. “I forgot myself. You always did tend to have that effect.” She licked her lips, still tasting him. “Tonight—”