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“Your father and I have reached an agreement.”
“Yes, of course, the business agreement to make me your live-in whore. I don’t think so. I won’t be part of your band of strumpets, Daniel. I won’t! You’re nothing but a scoundrel.”
Daniel had been called that name more times than he could remember, but never had it felt like an arrow in his heart. He went to her, held out his arms to her. Her skin was burning with fiery redness, her lips the color of the wine they had shared. God, how he wanted her. She was like a malady from which he couldn’t recover. A drug that his body craved. He would take her, and he would love her until she screamed. He would make her want him.
But she cowered before him, refusing to come back into his embrace. “No. Once you force me into this marriage, I won’t be able to stop you. But until then, you will maintain your distance.”
Daniel’s cock hardened under his dressing robe, aching for the sweet release that only she could give him. He rammed his fist onto the wall, tearing the wallpaper and denting the panel underneath. Blood oozed from his knuckles, but in his angry passion he felt no pain. “For God’s sake, Lily, do you have any idea how many women have tried to marry me over the years? I’m willing to give you what I’ve never even considered giving another!”
“Don’t you dare include me in the troop of doxies who’ve tried to trap you. I’m not one of them. I never was. I will not marry you!”
“Oh yes, you will.” She would be his, no matter what. “I will obtain a special license and we will be married at the end of next week, when the house party ends. Our betrothal will be announced at the ball tonight, after which we will share the first dance. Wear something appropriate. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed. I have business to attend to.”
He guided her out the door and shut it in her face.
* * *
Her fists still clenched, Lily strode toward her chamber. Appropriate? Ha! Appropriate attire to join his band of strumpets, no doubt. She would show him. She changed her route abruptly and went downstairs to find Crawford.
“I need a modiste brought in from Bath,” she said to the butler. “Time is of the essence. I need a gown for the ball tonight.”
“For tonight? I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“Make it possible, Crawford. Pay whatever is necessary to get her here and have the job done by tonight. Charge it to His Grace.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. He’ll pay for it. Trust me, he won’t even flinch. I’ll be in my chamber when she arrives.”
Lily flew up the double staircase to her chamber. Thankfully Rose was out. Lily paced around the room, agitated, her teeth clenched and her nostrils flaring. Damn Daniel for forcing his will on her. If only she hadn’t stayed with him that first time. If only she had never gone to his bedchamber to see the Vermeer.
But seeing the Vermeer…and sharing it with him—someone who appreciated it as much as she did, enough to hang it in his bedchamber so he could gaze at it whenever he liked—had been a dream. Letting him love her had also been a dream. She had never imagined such passion and tenderness could exist between two people.
Of course she had no experience. Perhaps making love was like that for everyone.
Why did she still want him? Her heart still raced and her nipples still tightened when she thought of his hands caressing her body, his tongue tasting her, his cock penetrating her. She had refused him this morning to hurt him, but she had denied herself what she desired most.
She sat down on her bed ran her fingers over her belly, wondering if Daniel’s child slumbered inside. She had been a fool to trust him, and his actions, or rather his inactions, were unforgivable. Yet she had gone willingly. She should have been more prepared with knowledge before embarking on such an affair. She would never let ignorance get the best of her again.
Somehow, though, the thought of having Daniel’s baby wasn’t nearly as distasteful as she had told him it was. True, she didn’t want to be with child. There was too much she wanted to do first. But a child. A little part of Daniel and a little part of her, linking them for all time. She smiled faintly as she stroked her belly, and for a moment she imagined a bright eyed baby boy with silky blond hair and sparkling green eyes, bouncing on her knee and smiling up at her, loving her.
Yes, loving her.
Love.
Daniel didn’t love her. He was only marrying her out of some misguided sense of responsibility for possibly getting her with child. She was an acceptable breeder for his heir.
Maybe, though, if Daniel loved their child, he could grow to love her as well. Maybe, someday, he wouldn’t need his strumpets and mistresses.
But did she love Daniel? She cared deeply for him, more than she wanted to. And she certainly desired him. She had lied to him when she said she was only after education and experience. She had lied to herself as well. She had convinced herself at first that sleeping with him would be a valuable experience for her writing, but the truth was much more simple than that. She wanted him, and she had gone back to him because she wanted to be with him. She enjoyed his company. She liked talking with him, spending time with him, making love with him. She hadn’t been able to stay away from him.
But was that love? Especially given the fact that they had spent all of three days together?
Even if it was love, she didn’t want to marry him. He could never be faithful to one woman, given his reputation, and if she were going to marry at all, she at least deserved her husband’s fidelity.
She rose from her bed, grabbed one of her empty canvases, set up her portable easel, and fetched the oil paint set. She took out the mixing palette, chose various tubes, and began mixing the paints with a small knife. She started with a bright green and added some blue. It made a nice turquoise, but that didn’t suit her. She started with blue next, adding violet, and then went back to the green and mixed in a hint of black. Beautiful. Now a tiny smidgen of violet and dark blue. Gorgeous. She took a brush and stroked color onto the canvas, trying some of the different techniques she had read about. The hue was rich and lustrous, but it still wasn’t quite right. She started again— Drat! She was trying to recreate the color of Daniel’s eyes.
Why couldn’t she control her thoughts of him? Her desire for him?
