Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(55)

“That sample was splendid but brief.”

“I promise you more, darling,” he said with an urgent kiss to her succulent lips. “Much more.”

“And soon?”

“Very.”





Chapter Eleven


The sun was setting as the coach pulled up to the main portico of Willowreach and idled. Julian secured Lily’s coat around her shoulders, her undergarments ordered, but still in a wrinkled, jumbled state. At least, her body was covered…and still tingling from their intimacy.

“Follow the butler straight away upstairs to your suite, Lily,” he told her. “By now, I’m sure your maid is settled in. Change and come to the dining room when you wish. Last week, I ordered a light supper for us.”

“A formal service?”

“Not at all. Don your nightclothes and a wrapper, if you wish. Be comfortable.”

Comfortable. The word had her smiling, hopeful he and she could resume the very gratifying explorations they’d begun in his coach. “I will. What of the servants?” she asked him as Foster swung open the cabin door.

“Only my butler and a footman in attendance. Your attire will be appropriate.”

Dizzy with the prospect of such ease between them, she tried to cover it with a mundane duty. “Elanna said I should ask to receive the staff first thing.”

Julian brushed his palm over her cheek, his touch tender and surprisingly tremulous. Against his chest, her nipples beaded. She wanted his mouth on her again to quench this new thirst she had for his affections.

“Tomorrow,” he told her, then left his seat and offered his hand to help her out. “No need to rush. You’ll be here forever.”

She liked the sound of that. Out in the brisk breezes of evening, she rose on toes and, servants or not, she put her lips to Julian’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked in low tones, footmen around them to gather their luggage.

“Being you. Kind, most of all.”

His features stilled, his gaze flowing over her face as if he’d drink her in, eat her up.

Her insides, where he’d caressed her, clenched and she caught a breath, wanting his fingers tormenting her again.

He swallowed loudly and hard. He glanced around, waiting until they were alone. “We’ll go in quickly or we’ll scandalize everyone as we climb back into the coach and make it rock.”

She burst out laughing, discovering that fun with him was becoming a charming habit. “Never fear. I’m off!”

That night weeks ago when Julian had shown her the salon, Lily had registered the entry hall and appointments. Now she caught her breath at the beauty of the mansion before her. Ivory and gold-veined marble on the floor, green porphyry columns that rose to three stories high next to the stairs. The cupola in the glass dome above her let in the cerulean shades of sunset. The butler bowed and led her up the main stairs, a wide expanse so grand Lily was certain an entire coach could glide down the steps with ease.

“The marchioness’s suite of rooms adjoins the marquess’s,” the servant told her. “His lordship had your suite redone with new draperies and rugs, madam. But he left much for you to do as you wish. I hope you’re comfortable but should you need anything, madam, do not hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

He thrust open the door for her. Lily smiled at her maid who bobbed. Nora, who’d traveled ahead early this morning from London down to the house, greeted her with a nod and congratulations.

“Thank you. Have you settled in?”

“Upstairs, yes, my lady.”

Lily shrugged out of her coat.

“Oh, my!” The maid fluttered about her, regarding her mussed clothing with horror in her eyes. “Ma’am, are you—well?”

“Very, Nora.” Lily had not thought how her disarray might affect her maid. The woman was in her forties and from her references, she’d worked for an elderly baroness before coming to Piccadilly to tend her. Lily had assumed she was experienced in all matters vital to proper service. “I expect your discretion.”

The woman cast her eyes to the floor. “Of course, my lady.”

“Take this away.” Lily held out her coat. “And repair my blouse, if you can. If not, so be it. Take it to the rag bin.”

“I put out your dinner gown, madam.”

Lily’d been trussed up like a Christmas turkey all day, except for her journey here, and she welcomed the idea of wearing next to nothing to dine with Julian. ‘No stays for years,’ he’d said in the carriage and her body flushed at the memory. “I’ll wear one of my new silk negligees. The pink one. And the cranberry brocade wrapper.”

“But, ma’am, for supper?”

Nora was not used to a woman who did not dress to the hilt for every occasion. Why had Lily not noticed that before? Because it had not been an issue until tonight.

“Yes. And I’ll have a bath now, too.”

“Of course,” Nora said.

Lily turned to the six-foot cheval mirror, which reflected her, head to toe. She was indeed, a mess. ‘Ravished’ was the word that came to mind and curved her lips.

She spun toward Nora. “Help me off with all of this.”

I have a husband to please. And myself.