Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(90)

Believe this: I will do my damnedest to fix this and come home to you. However, I cannot ignore the possibility that I may not return. If I fail to come back, look for my solicitor to discreetly make contact. There are funds set aside. You will never want for anything.

Lily, by leaving you like this, I break a promise. And thus, I behave in a manner completely unworthy of you. The plain truth of it is, I have always been unworthy of you. You don’t know the half of what I’ve done. But no matter the shame in my past, these weeks with you have been the happiest and proudest of my life. Had we shared only one night together, it would be worth all this and more to have called you “wife” just once and to wear your ring to my grave. I could cover this paper with “I love you”s, and still they wouldn’t be enough.

I love you.

There, kindly read that a thousand times over. Then pause to take tea, and read it a thousand times more. Daily, if you will.

Be faithful to those vows you made last night. You must never doubt my love for you, and no matter what occurs, you must find a way to carry on. The irony is not lost on me, that even as I break my own promises, I’m insisting you must keep yours. Unfair of me, but true to form. I’m a bastard, a scoundrel, and as you’ve said, an unmitigated ass. Even the damned bird knows it’s true. But above all these, I remain

Yours, always,

—J.

“No!” Lily shouted, stepping back from the letter where it lay on her dressing table. “No, no, no! How could you?”

She pressed a hand to the thin lawn of her shift. They’d spent a magical night together. Had she somehow dreamed it all? No. The supper tray was still there, not even yet cleared. He’d made love to her so sweetly, all night through, scarcely allowing her to rest between bouts of passion. She’d thought his exuberant ardor meant he’d finally moved past all his fears and reservations.

But no. It meant he’d been saying good-bye. Making love to her as if last night could be their last night, ever. And now he’d rushed out to meet some unknown danger, leaving her behind to helplessly fret.

Damn him. Damn him. Lily seldom swore, but if ever there was an occasion to merit blasphemy, this was it. He must have been planning this. Hadn’t he said so yesterday in the gallery? The three gentlemen had made plans to go riding.

“Damn you, Julian,” she said aloud. “And damn your noble words. I’ll be damned if you’ll leave me like this.”

She looked to the clock. Already half nine. Damn, damn, damn. Who could say how long he’d been gone?

Her lady’s maid came rushing in, no doubt drawn by the angry shouting.

“I want a traveling habit, and a warm cloak,” Lily told her. “And I want them now. Don’t bother with pressing.”

While the maid was still curtsying her agreement, Lily rushed past her and wrenched open the door, sticking head and shoulders into the corridor. “Swift!” she bellowed, putting her whole body into the effort.

Within moments, the butler’s silver head appeared at the top of the stairs.

“The carriage, Swift. I want it readied immediately.”

Without even waiting for his acknowledgment, Lily slammed the door shut and went to the washstand, swabbing herself with tepid water and yanking a brush through her love-tangled hair. By the time her maid appeared with a fresh chemise, stays, and petticoat, Lily was read to don them. She grabbed the stockings and garters for herself. “Get the dress,” she told the maid.

The stockings were uncooperative, and the garters were downright incorrigible. “Damnable stockings,” she grumbled, perversely wishing she did swear more often, so she would have a broader repertoire of profanity to draw from. “Damnable garters.”

As the clock ticked toward ten, she was fully dressed and simply coiffed. Presentable, if not a picture of elegance. She took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing her damp palms over the pleated amethyst superfine.

“Gloves,” she called. “I need gloves.”

Her maid was right there beside her, holding a pair in either hand for her selection.

Lily took the buff doeskin gloves and ran with them, working her fingers into their tight sheaths as she hurried down the stairs. “Is the carriage ready, Swift?”

“Nearly, my lady.”

“Tell the driver to pull around front. I’ll wait on the steps.” Honestly, Lily had no idea where she intended to go. She just knew she had to go somewhere. She could not sit in this house, poring over ledgers and alphabetizing books while Julian was out in the world, courting danger.

She went to the front door and grabbed hold of the handle. Amelia, she thought. She would start with Amelia and Meredith. Since all three men had gone out together, perhaps the other ladies would have some clue where they’d headed.

Lily wrenched open the door and bolted through it, only to pull up short on the threshold. Amelia and Meredith themselves stood on the front stoop. Amelia’s hand was arrested midair, as though she’d been preparing to ring the bell.

“Good morning.” She smiled brightly. “That was speedy of you. Did you see us coming up the walk?”

Lily shook her head. “No.”

Meredith said, “We thought with the men gone out for their ride, we ladies deserved some amusement of our own. What do you say to a stroll in the park?”

“Damn the park. That’s what I say to it.”