Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(53)

Really? He would have taken her virtue last night, there in the street? The thought both repulsed and thrilled her.

“If you’d come to harm last night … I couldn’t have lived with myself today. I don’t need to remind you how I put Leo in danger, or what happened as a result.”

Not this again. “Julian, I asked for everything we did last night. And then some. I’m responsible for my own choices. Leo wanted to attend that boxing match, and he did so of his own accord. You are not to blame for what happened to him afterward.”

His eyes flashed. “How do you know that? I was supposed to be with him that night. I have enemies, Lily. Perhaps the men who killed him were really hoping to kill me.”

“That’s madness. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill you.”

“Of course you can’t. I’ve been very careful to keep those reasons from you. I’ll be damned if I’ll expose you to them now.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. You admit you’re a lowborn, unrepentant scoundrel with a criminal history and an insatiable taste for women and revenge. But I’m where you draw the line?”

“Yes. If I have it in me to do one truly decent thing in my life, it’s going to be this. Leaving you be.”

“Then you really are a bastard. Can you possibly understand how patronizing that is?” She gave a bitter sniff. “You’re so very careful with me. Because I’m so pure and delicate and deaf, you’re a better person around me. I’m the lucky object of your scruples. Meanwhile, you’ll blithely dally with any number of women you don’t respect. Perhaps I should take your advice and marry. If I married one of these lords you hate so fondly, maybe then you’d tup me too.”

Oh, God. Had she truly just spoken those words?

Color rose on his cheeks. He angled his gaze to the corner.

Yes. She had.

“Julian, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, don’t apologize. It was absolutely deserved. I am a bastard, Lily, in more ways than one. I’m glad you’re starting to see it. It makes this easier on us both.”

“Makes what easier? What is it we’re doing here?”

“We’re saying farewell.”

She choked back a sob, then buried her face in one hand.

His eyes pleaded with her as he pulled her hand away. “Try to understand. I have exactly two goals in my life right now. Justice for Leo, and security for you. And after last night, I must face facts. The first may always elude me. As for the second … It’s been proved beyond doubt, I can no longer be near you without endangering your health, your virtue, or both.”

Wiping her tears, she protested, “No one gives a fig for my virtue.”

“I give a fig for it. A great many figs. Several puddings’ worth. You should, too.”

How unforgivable of him, to make her laugh at a moment like this.

He went on, “You may say you want a lover—but you don’t, Lily. Not really. Take it from someone who knows, and who knows you. The slinking around to avoid discovery, the gossip and scorn if we were found out … it would weigh heavily on you. It wouldn’t end well.”

Drat it all. She knew in her heart he was probably right. She just wasn’t made for illicit affaires.

He rose, brushing the dust from his trousers as he stood. “Speaking of avoiding discovery, we should be going. Come, I’ll see you home.” He extended a hand.

She stared at it. A future without Julian stretched out before her like a bleak, endless wasteland. “Lord and Lady Ainsley’s assembly is next week. You said you’d attend. You made me a promise, Julian. Three nights. We’ve only had two. You owe me the one. You promised.” It was a stupid, contrived line of argument, but it was what she had. She just couldn’t leave here without knowing she’d see him again.

“So I did,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Very well.”

With a sigh of relief, she took his hand. “You’ll come?”

“I’ll come.” He pulled her to her feet. “I can’t escort you, but I promise you will see me there. In fact, it’s perfect. That night will be your second London debut. And it will be my grand farewell.”

Several days later, Lily sat once again at Leo’s desk. October had become November. She turned a fresh page in the ledger that lay open on the blotter. A blank slate.

She dipped her quill and drew a vertical slash down the center of the page, dividing it in two columns. At the top, she headed one “Arguments For,” and atop the other column, she wrote, “Arguments Against.” Lily felt like a schoolgirl, but she didn’t know what else to do. Ledgers always helped her see things clear.

The second list was by far the easier of the two.

He’s a liar, she wrote.

And a criminal, of unknown sort.

He has enemies, also of unknown sort. Possibly dangerous.

He’s bedded half the ladies of the ton.

Well, that was hyperbole. Setting aside all the young girls and elderly matrons … and taking into account the sheer difficulties of scheduling, and the fact that some never even came to Town … How many garters did it take to span a billiard room, anyway? She crossed through “half” and inked “one-tenth” in its place as an estimate.