Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(26)

“Not for July. He went …” Lily bit her tongue. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must be remembering it wrong.”

That July, Leo had spent the month at a reunion of his old Eton friends. She didn’t want to make Michael feel poorly for having been excluded. But then, why should Michael have been excluded? He’d been Leo’s closest friend at school. It made no sense, unless …

Unless Leo hadn’t attended a reunion with his old Eton friends. Unless he’d spent a month somewhere else.

The room went fuzzy around her. Fragments of those letters floated to the surface of her memory.

When I close my eyes at night, I imagine we’re there again. We lie still in the tall grass. A clear sky hangs over us. The sun’s warmth bakes the dew from our skin. Your fingers lace with mine. Like children, we laugh at the skylarks mating overhead.

Then you turn to me slowly, brush a lock of hair from my brow.

We kiss, and childish thoughts are put away.

Lily jolted back into the present. The commander stood before her.

“Shall we?” He extended a hand and tilted his head toward the card tables.

“Oh!” She rose to her feet. “Yes, of course.”

They sat down to whist. She, Amelia, Michael, and the commander occupied the first table, whilst the three younger lieutenants were left to play shorthanded at the other, with the empty fourth seat designated “dummy.”

Lily was partnered with Michael, and the commander seated himself to her left. As Amelia shuffled the deck, Lily tried to focus. She was good at cards, and especially skilled at whist. She looked forward to displaying proficiency in something this evening.

But she couldn’t. Her concentration was so scattered. Several times, she had to be prompted to play her turn. At her left, she felt the commander growing impatient. The testy set of his jaw told her what his words did not. He was bored with her. It happened. People like the commander started out solicitous and enthusiastic, treating conversation with a deaf woman as some sort of parlor game in its own right. But once they realized the game had no end, and furthermore, no prizes would be awarded … they sometimes grew weary of the effort and ceased trying.

To be fair, Lily was poor company. Her mind kept circling back to her conversation with Michael and that stack of letters she’d found hidden in Leo’s desk drawer. She’d always thought there’d been no secrets between her and her brother. Evidently she’d been wrong.

What had he been hiding from her? Or more to the point, whom?

And where in the world was Julian? He promised to escort her to three events, not make an appearance just long enough to humiliate her before fleeing the scene and leaving her all alone to deal with Leo’s grief-stricken friends. Not to mention commanders of the Royal Navy who were short on patience and entirely too free with their hands.

Even though she knew it to be unfair, she wanted to take her every moment of uncertainty, awkwardness, and undiluted fear in this endless day and heap the blame squarely at Julian’s feet. She was so very tired, and tired of being angry with him. Between the unshed tears blurring her vision and the trembling of her fingers, she could barely make out the figures on her cards.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, laying down her cards and rising from the table. “I believe I need some air.” When the other men began to rise, she motioned for them to remain in place. Amelia’s eyes flashed concern, and Lily tried to reassure her with a smile. “Don’t get up, please. I’ll return momentarily.” Just as soon as I find Julian and drag him back, too.

As she smoothed her skirts, she tried not to feel defeated. Yes, she could handle these settings alone. But given the choice, she would prefer to handle them with Julian.

When had he become so essential to her?

She turned away from the card table and moved to quit the room.

Then she stopped. Because Julian was there in the doorway, headed toward her.

When their eyes met, they each stumbled to a halt. He smiled at the coincidence. She pressed her lips together. In unison, they exchanged brief nods, followed by matching expressions of suppressed laughter. A whole conversation, crammed into the space of a moment, with nary a word exchanged. The understanding and patience she craved … it was all there, waiting in his eyes. Strange impulses tugged at her. The strongest of which being the desire to run at the man, fling both arms around his neck, and hope—just breathe and wait and hope, with her pulse thundering in her ears—that his arms would naturally wrap around her, too.

But before she could embarrass them both, Julian’s gaze cut away, darting to the card players behind her. Lily watched his face blanch, then flush crimson with fury. His lips formed crisp, distinct words. Words not intended for her, but for someone beyond her right shoulder.

“What the devil did you just say?”

Oh, dear. The commander must have made some remark when she’d turned away. Something insensitive, when she couldn’t overhear. And of course, Julian was incapable of letting such remarks pass. His mouth thinned to a tight, angry line. At his sides, his hands balled into formidable fists.

He was going to hurt someone. Soon.

Lily stepped in front of him. The scene wasn’t disastrous yet. If she pretended to be oblivious to the whole situation, everyone else could act the same. “Mr. Bellamy,” she said lightly. “I … I was just on my way to get some air. Would you take me for a turn about the garden?”