With great reluctance, she tore her regard from the dancing couple. She mustn’t be so obvious in her admiration, considering she lingered on the marquess. A footman passed, and she snatched a glass of champagne and sipped the golden liquid. After observing another three sets of dancing, it was distressing to admit she was frightfully bored. There was simply nothing for her to do. Others around her laughed and chattered away with great animation, but no one engaged with her. She didn’t belong, and everyone knew.
For politeness’s sake, she would wait a few more minutes, then slip away to the library and perhaps select a book to read until sleep beckoned. Or venture once more into the darkened passage…
Remembered pleasure stroked her skin, and there was a pleasant tightening in her womb. Good lord, could she risk it again? What if she encountered the unknown lover once more? Lily closed her eyes, reluctantly admitting that was what she wanted. To feel his thick cock part her core once again, satisfying her with that pained bliss that had made her shatter with such intensity.
Could she truly do it again?
And what if he isn’t there?
But the more terrifying question was, what if she encountered him once more?
If he’s there, I’ll take him as he’ll surely take me.
A few hours from now, she would once again walk that fine edge between freedom and ruin…
It was going to be a long night.
…
Oliver twirled around the ballroom with Lady Penelope for the second time. They had been paired in a quadrille and now a waltz. His mother had waylaid him earlier, imploring him to first dance with Lady Penelope. He hadn’t told his mother he had already struck her from the list. Though he had sought out her help, he would not give her a daily update on his pursuits. He had partnered with Lady Emma earlier in a game of croquet, had complimented the watercolors she’d painted, and his mother had been too obvious in her delight. He had overheard a few other ladies speculating whether he had made his choice.
The plan had been to dance and mingle with the widows present, but Oliver found it hard to concentrate on the matter at hand. Since he’d spied Lily, his mind had blanked. What was she doing at the ball looking so bloody appealing? She wore a rose-colored gown that hugged her figure most enticingly. Her mane of dark red hair was piled high atop her head in intricate curls, with several wisps artfully arranged to drape across her forehead and down to her shoulder. With no accessories except for a pair of white gloves, she was possibly the only woman at the ball so unadorned. No pearls, diamonds, or rubies circled her throat, and he wished he could lay them at her feet. A ridiculous desire.
She stood on the sidelines, looking so lovely…and perhaps a bit lonely. He frowned, noting the half smile on her lips and the yearning way she stared at the dancing couples—though, he thought it likely she could be admiring their apparel. She collected another glass of champagne and then moved to a chaise and sat.
“Would you like to take a turn in the garden after our waltz, my lord?” Lady Penelope asked, dragging his attention back to her. Oliver hoped he hadn’t been obvious in his admiration of Lily. He peered down at the beautiful lady in his arms, noting the haunting sadness in Lady Penelope’s eyes.
“Are you still in love with Lord Bainbridge?”
Her lips parted in a silent gasp, and her eyes widened. “My lord! I…” She struggled for equanimity as her eyes welled with tears. “It does not signify. My parents won’t approve the match.”
“He is working like a madman to bring his estates back from the brink of ruin. He does not say it, but I know his relentlessness is because he fears you will wed another before he succeeds.”
Hope flared in her eyes. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
Her lips trembled with a smile. “I do not care if he is not wealthy.”
“Then fight for him, wait for him, do not give in to your parents’ demands, for we only live once. It would be foolish, I believe, to marry elsewhere when your heart is irrevocably in love with another.”
She visibly swallowed. “And you do not think he hates me for rejecting him before?”
“No.”
“Thank you, my lord. I will not forget your kindness,” she said huskily, peering over his shoulder to Bainbridge, who lounged in a darkened corner watching her with astonishing intensity.
“Discreetly go to him, give him hope.”
A wide smile of joy appeared on her lips, rendering the lady exquisite. “I will, thank you.”
Their dance ended, and he escorted her to the sidelines. His mother lifted her chin toward Lady Emma and Miss Julianna Darby, but Oliver paid her no heed. Instead, he made his way over to Lily.
She shot to her feet as he stood in front of her. Her eyes were alert, curious even. “My lord,” she said, dipping in an elegant curtsy.
“Mrs. Layton.”
Her gaze flicked around the room and then back to him. “Upon my word, I believe the entire room is staring at you,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing a becoming pink. “Why are they doing that?”