Unlacing Lilly. Gail Ranstrom

Looking disconcerted, her mother stood. “Well, then. I suppose there’s nothing more for me to say. I hope she did not neglect to tell you about—”

      “I promise, Mama. She neglected nothing.”

      “And that you cannot refuse, however much you might want?”

      That caused her heart to skip a beat. “Yes, Mama. Even that.” But she had seen the way Bella and Andrew looked at one another and she had to doubt that Bella would ever refuse anything Andrew wanted. Or that he would refuse her.

      “I shall have to remember to thank Bella.” And with a monumental sigh of relief, Mama stood and hurried to the door. When she opened it, Gina edged past her and closed her out.

      She turned to Lilly and began giggling. “Did she give you the talk?”

      Lilly covered her mouth to contain her own giggles as she nodded. She was relieved to see that Gina was becoming more like her old self now that they’d relocated to Mr. Hunter’s house. Perhaps all she’d needed was to feel secure once again.

      Gina crossed the room to the bookcases and trailed one finger along the spines. “I wanted to catch you alone, Lilly, and I am afraid there will be little opportunity between now and when you become the Marchioness of Olney. Shall I have to call you Lady Lillian?”

      “Of course not.”

      When she turned back to Lilly, her expression was serious. “I shall miss you terribly. You realize, do you not, that now I will be all alone with Mama.”

      They both began giggling again. “Not entirely,” Lilly reminded. “Mr. Hunter said you and Mama may stay here as long as you wish. And I hope you and Mama will come to stay with me, too, once Olney and I are out of Rutherford and settled in our own place.”

      Gina shook her head. “Mama may have missed it, but I have noted how both Olney and his parents look at us. We are beneath them, and they know it. I doubt they will ever let Olney forget it. Mama and I would only be a constant reminder.”

      She wanted to refute Gina’s words, but she could not. It was true, and Gina was intelligent enough to have seen it. But the thought of never sharing a room or even the same house with her sisters again brought tears to her eyes. And then a rogue thought occurred to her—did she want to marry a man who would alienate her from her family?

      Before she could think further, Gina gave her a fierce hug and dashed out the door. She dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her long sleeve, glad that she had an errand to do. The fresh air and the walk to the modiste would clear her mind and restore her balance.

      

      Devlin watched as Miss O’Rourke huddled beneath the canopy of a sheltering elm in Green Park, her straw bonnet dripping from the sudden rainstorm. She clutched a box against her chest and seemed to be arguing with her maid. A moment later, the maid dashed into the rain and ran along the path. She would likely be going to summon a coach.

      This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. It had been easy enough to find out which fashionable modiste had been employed to make the Rutherford wedding gown. He could not imagine the Duchess of Rutherford using an ordinary modiste. And it had been just as easy to discover that the finishing touches were just being made and that the gown would be retrieved before tea.

      So he’d waited patiently in his coach across the street from the modiste. It had not mattered to him who came to fetch the frippery, only that whoever it was would lead him back to Miss O’Rourke’s home. And thus he would know where to find her when he was ready.

      But this was even better. Miss O’Rourke herself had come to claim her gown. And better still, the storm had broken as his coach was following her home, and she was now alone and vulnerable—an opportunity not to be squandered. While he watched, she fished through her reticule to find a handkerchief to dab the rain from her face and the action dislodged a scrap of paper that fluttered to the ground without her noticing. He gave his driver instructions to wait, hopped down into the rain and crossed the street to the park at a run.

      The storm did not let up, but rather increased in intensity. People scattered, running for protection or for the doorways of houses across the street. Even better. They’d be as good as alone. Her back was turned to him and he swept up the small scrap of paper and secreted it in his waistcoat pocket before speaking.

      “Miss O’Rourke!”

      She spun in his direction, looked momentarily pleased, then covered it quickly. He arrived beside her and removed his hat to shake the rain from the brim.

      “Mr. Devlin,” she answered. She brushed the strands of wet hair peeking beneath her bonnet out of her eyes and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Good heavens! You should not have gotten out of your coach. Now you are all wet.”

      “A small price to pay to rescue a pretty girl.” He removed his jacket and made a canopy over her with his arms. “Come, I shall give you a ride home.”

      “Oh, thank you, but no. My maid will be returning with an umbrella any moment. She would be terrified to find me gone.”

      “We could watch for her along the way. Truly, an umbrella could not give you the protection of a coach.”

      “Thank you again, but no. I would not like to do anything that could look improper. Perhaps when Nancy comes back, you could give us both a ride?”

      Drat! He could not drag her across the street and toss her into his coach in broad daylight, even if it was in the middle of a drenching thunderstorm. “Properly chaperoned, you mean. Is that because you are to say your vows tomorrow?”

      She looked down at her box she clutched to her chest, then back up at him. “Yes. We just heard this morning that the king has given his permission, if not his approval.”

      “You look a bit disconcerted about that.”

      “I…was not certain it would arrive in time. I really thought there would be a delay.”

      “Did you want a delay? Are you having second thoughts, Miss O’Rourke?”

      “No!” Her quick denial belied her words. “I mean, of course not. It will be lovely to be a marchioness, and then a duchess.”

      She blushed. How charming. He could not resist teasing. “Ah, is that what you are looking forward to?”

      A mutinous light filled her eyes. “But of course. How perfectly exquisite to have people defer to me, ape my words and actions, regard me with fear and awe. I cannot think of anything more divine. I would have to be mad to not want it, Mr. Devlin. Of course I want it.”

      Tears welled in her eyes and she turned away. Good God! What was wrong with her? “Miss O’Rourke, are you quite all right?”

      “Yes!” She gasped and looked at him with a horrified expression. He would wager she had not meant to say any of that aloud, let alone to have betrayed her misgivings.

      Devlin chuckled. “If you say so. Just as well that you are not having second thoughts, though. With everything set for tomorrow, it would be a shame to delay or cancel.”

      She nodded. “I shan’t. I cannot speak for Olney or his family.”

      “He’d be mad to let one more day pass with you not his wife.”

      She looked up at him and he was drawn into the raw emotion in her eyes—eyes as clear and seductive as a lazy summer afternoon. The rain had eased somewhat and Devlin slipped his jacket on before he cupped her chin, removed his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed at her tears. She sighed and swayed toward him.

      Unable to resist, he bent his head until his lips were mere inches away from hers. “You are too damned tempting, Miss O’Rourke.”

      She did not move, did not even breathe. Then, as powerless to stop himself as he was to fly, he brushed his lips over hers and groaned. A quick jolt of desire shot through him. Damn! He had not meant for this to happen. He could ill