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“There’s nothing to remember,” Lilly snarled. “There are only the lies you had some investigator make up. What do you think you can do? Do you think you can blackmail me or my family?” Her nose lifted with aristocratic pride. “Trust me, lady, no one would ever believe Lady Victoria Harrington was little more than a whore. You’re wasting your time.”
“I believe I’m insulted,” Santos drawled as she moved past him, watching him warily
. “My girls have never been called such a thing.”
The glare Lilly shot him should have withered him. Instead, with steady Irish charm Santos tossed her a wicked grin before extending his hand to the door. “We wanted only to say hello, my dear, and to let you know if you need us, we’re here.”
“I rather doubt I’ll need you.” The look she shot Travis assured him she wouldn’t be needing him either.
She had passed the test. She knew who they were only through the report her uncle had given her. She hadn’t recognized them, she hadn’t remembered her past.
She slipped from the room. The sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor could be heard just before the front door slammed closed.
Travis turned to Rhiannon, his brow arching.
Rhiannon stared back at him, her brilliant green eyes eerie, too aware, too knowing.
“She’s hiding something, Travis.” Her gaze hardened. “Find out what.”
Chapter 6
lilly stepped back into the house, smiling at the butler as he opened the door for her. The brightly lit marble foyer was warm and welcoming, but there was a core of ice forming inside her that she couldn’t seem to dispel.
Moving quickly through the foyer, she pushed through the doors to the library, intending to confront Desmond with the information he had given her the night before. She hadn’t expected him to have company.
“Victoria.” Desmond came to his feet, a worried smile on his face. Lilly smiled when she saw who was behind him.
“Jordan,” She said, coming forward and hugging him.
Jordan returned the hug. “I wanted to stop in to see you while I was in town. It’s a miracle that you’ve returned.”
“So my family tells me.” She stepped back and restrained the need to rub at the chill in her arms.
“Your uncle mentioned you may have a bit of a past that could cause you some problems,” Jordan stated, as Desmond went over to the bar. “I wondered if I could be of help.”
“Did he now?” She glanced at her uncle, noting the heavy breath he took as he lifted a bottle of wine from the bar. She was within seconds of asking for something stronger, only to quell the urge as she noticed Jordan’s gaze sharpening on her.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Jordan urged her. “Grief does amazing things to a young mind. Desmond is fairly certain you must have walked in on something that night, perhaps even saw your father’s murder. He’s concerned that you could be targeted because of that, or because of the information the investigator uncovered.”
Lilly took a seat in the chair beside her, watching as the two men settled back into their seats before speaking.
“What, then, is the general consensus?” she asked. “Did I become a whore because I was grieving, or running from criminals or my own guilt?”
“Dammit, Victoria, no one believes you killed your father,” Desmond bit out. “Quite to the contrary, I believe you were hiding, perhaps even frightened of endangering your mother.”
Lilly sipped at her wine. “I’ve asked you before, Uncle, to call me Lilly.”
Desmond grimaced but said nothing.
“The fact remains that no one would believe such a tale,” Jordan stated quietly.
Do you want to live, Lady Victoria, or die forever? Jordan’s voice. Jordan’s face. Younger, less savage. The memory flashed through her head, sticking to her mind, and almost had her shaking her head as she tried to dispel it.
Memory or insanity?
“It’s much easier to believe I was a whore, then?” she asked, her brow arching curiously.
Jordan’s head lowered as her uncle looked away.
