Read A Season to Be Sinful Online

Authors: Jo Goodman

A Season to Be Sinful (34 page)

I know.

I will count it as the hardest thing I have ever done.

I know that, too.

Did you mean it that you would find me?

I meant it, Lily. I meant everything.

Lily could not doubt it; the quiet resolve was there in his voice. He loved her. He would also try to kill for her. Is there something I can do to make you change your mind?

Sherrys hand dipped in the curve at the small of her back and rested there a moment. About loving you? No.

And the other?

I dont know. You will make your choices, and I will make mine.

Lilys cheek remained resting against his chest. Her heart had begun to beat more quickly while his maintained the same steady rhythm. Have ever called a man out?

No.

And never been called out?

Never.

Then youve never met a man at twenty paces.

Thats right.

He has. In Paris once. And again, quite secretly, after he returned home. He is an excellent shot, Sherry. Both men were grievously injured. One died not long after he was taken from the field. I heard the other departed the country as soon as he was able to travel. I fear he will kill you.

Based on what you have said, it seems there is an equal chance that he will not.

Without a word, Lily rose up and moved away. She found her shift and slipped it on, then stepped over Sherry on her way to the dressing room. She remained there, washing and collecting herself, until she judged ample time had passed for him to have gathered his own things and left. When she stepped back into the bedroom, however, she saw she had been too generous with the time shed allotted. Her valise and all of the clothes that had been lying at the foot of the bed were now on the wing chair, and Sherry was comfortably situated in her bed looking for all the world as if he had been invited to be there. She noticed he had even picked up after himself, setting his own garments neatly over the chair at her escritoire.

I had hoped you would leave, she said.

Did you? Odd, that. I am perfectly comfortable here. He patted the space beside him. Come, Lily. Have done with your high dudgeon and sit with me. In every way it would be better if you stayed the night. 1 cannot think of one reason that you must finish packing now and take yourself off. Your behavior suggests that you expect to be found out at any moment. My aunt has only now made the discovery. Even she requires more time to set the on dit in motion. She can have scarcely penned more than five or six letters to her friends with this news, and none of her correspondence can be posted until the morning. I collect that it will be

He dodged the first thing she threw at him, which happened to be a slim volume of poetry that was in easy reach on top of her desk. He put out his hands to ward off the next itemsa crystal paperweight and a shoewhich were pitched in quick succession. When the valise came flying in his direction, he had no choice but to catch it.

While she was looking around for something else to throw, he opened up the valise and took out one of her neatly folded nightshirts. He snapped it open with a flourish and waved it over his head. Rather than signaling truce, it was like waving red at the bull. Lily came flying at him this time, catapulting herself onto the bed so fiercely that the entire frame shook. He barely had time to toss the shift and the valise aside before she was in his arms, fists raised and bent on pummeling him.

He caught her wrists and held them, though it was no easy thing. My little Valkyrie. Can I truly have made you so angry?

Lily pushed at him, trying to land a single blow that would leave him in no doubt of the answer to his question. She ground her teeth in frustration when she could not match his superior strength.

I was being patronizing, he said, wasnt I?

Lilys attention was caught more by his calm than what he said. She had to wait for his words to echo softly in her head before she could respond. She nodded once.

And I was making light of your concerns.

Lily could feel some of the tension being leeched from her. Yes.

Im sorry for that, he said. I do not take them lightly. And I am sorry for the other, because you do not deserve to be spoken to as if you had no sense. He lowered her hands so they rested on her thighs. I appreciate that you are worried for me, but I admit there is some sting to my pride when you wonder if I can manage the thing I am set on doing. I am not at all certain any longer that you are afraid I will kill him but that you are afraid I cannot.

Sherry uncurled his fingers from around her wrists. You should not fear for me, Lily. It is true I have never called a man out or been called out by one, but that is not the question you should have asked. You want to know whether I have ever killed a man.

Lily was not certain that she did. He would not offer that information if she hadnt the courage to ask it, or courage still to hear the answer. She searched his face but could not see past his shuttered expression. Drawing a shallow breath as though bracing herself, she asked, And have you killed a man?

No, he said. Ive killed more than one.

Chapter Twelve
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More than one? Lily frowned, certain she could not have heard correctly or that shed misunderstood his meaning. She made an attempt to present what was the most logical explanation. I did not realize you once had a commission.

There was a time when Sherry would have seized on this interpretation, perhaps presented it as his own, but now he had to consider all that Lily had shared and decide if he was her equal in this regard. If he did not love her, he would not be considering what he might say to her, but loving her did not make it easier to say.

I never had a commission, he said. I have been in the kings service but not in his regiments or his navy.

Lily slid off his lap. She remained sitting, pulling her legs up tailor fashion so her shift was spread taut between her knees. Regarding him intently, she said, I dont think I understand. How were you of service to His Majesty?

Not only in his service, Lily, but in the service of those who advised him. I cannot share the particulars with you. It is the nature of what I did for them that speaking of it can put innocents in harms way. There are few people who know, and in matters such as these, it is always the fewer, the better. Aunt Georgia certainly has no knowledge. Neither has Cybelline. I have never said as much to anyone as Ive already said to you.

But youve told me nothing save that youve She cut herself off as she realized precisely what hed told her. Her voice was but a whisper as she finished her thought aloud. that youve killed.

He nodded slowly. That you will regard me with loathing is probably the clearest measure of your own good sense.

It was not loathing Lily felt, but confusion. You do not mean to explain yourself?

I can paint this canvas only in the broadest of strokes. If that does not satisfy, then He let the sentence dangle, punctuating his thought with a shrug. I was approached when I was yet at Cambridge. As you know, my days of leading small revolutions within the dormitories were long behind me. I was a model student, a prefect myself by then, and accounted by my professors and fellow classmates to be endowed well enough in the upperworks but completely dull in the application of it.

So you were brilliant, but not eccentric.

His smile was wry. Succinctly put. My tastes, I suppose you would say, were prosaic. 1 spoke of returning to Granville, of applying what I learned to matters of working this land, increasing the crop production and raising cattle. I considered taking a turn in the House of Lords, but even then my interests were about improving the lot of tenant farmers and repealing laws that inhibited personal industry. When I imagined living in London, as I knew that I would on occasion, I saw myself as a patron of the arts, supporting those individuals who shared my interests but whose talents far exceeded my own.

Music, Lily said. The wistful smile that curved her lips also touched her eyes. You love music. I have heard you play, you know. Sometimes late at night, when the house was very quiet and it seemed that no one was stirring, I could hear the strains of the pianoforte. If I went to the landing on the main staircase it was clearer yet, and I could sit there undisturbed for as long as you chose to play. To me, it always seemed too short. Did you know you had an audience?

Sherry shook his head. Never.

She could see that he was moved by her admission. Lily reached out and rested her hand lightly on his knee. Go on. You were telling me about your prosaic tastes.

Only in an effort to make you understand why I was chosen. It was the perfectly unexceptional manner in which I was conducting my affairs that garnered the attention of these men. They did not want someone who drew notice for what was out of the ordinary.

They? asked Lily.

There is no name for them. I have lately come to think of them as a confederacy, but theyweare not so tightly knit as that name suggests.

Then you are one of them?

I was. From the time I was twenty until shortly before our encounter in Covent Garden. I spent almost nine years accepting and carrying out orders from them. On occasion I was the one who gave the orders.

But I thought you said it was in the kings service?

Yes, but it was not always so straightforward. Sometimes there are reasons for Sherry hesitated, choosing his words carefully. There are invariably matters that the king or his ministers are reluctant to have placed publicly at the palace steps.

Like assassination.

Sherry did not answer. He was aware of nothing so much as Lilys hand on his knee. He wondered if he would be able to breathe if she removed it. She was not, however, regarding him with revulsion. What he saw in her eyes was deep, abiding sadness. This was not pity, but grief. Should I have spared you, Lily? Would it have been better if I had said nothing?

She shook her head. Are these men responsible for the murder of my own parents?

I dont know. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to discover. I was not part of that circle fifteen years ago. Howard Sterling is but a name to me. I did not know your father except by reputation. He was in France at a very dangerous time, Lily.

He was on the kings business.

I understand that. He was attached to the Foreign Office, I believe, and at the front of some delicate diplomacy. His death was a blow to almost a year of peace efforts.

His death was a blow to me, she said on a thread of sound. I was only six.

I did not mean

She closed her eyes briefly. I know, she said. There is no need to make an apology. You did not kill him.

No, he said, waiting for her to look at him again. Not him. He saw Lily flinch at what he hadnt said, what he could never say. What do you know of your fathers assassination?

Precious little. It was the abbess who told me my parents were dead, and if she knew the truth, she offered none of it. For years I believed it was typhus that killed them until Sister Mary Joseph told me what she knew. You will have already guessed that I was at the abbey school because my parents feared for my safety, though I never supposed it was for my health. As you said, it was a dangerous time. Even at six, I understood that.

I knew little enough about their deaths, Lily. My aunt is considerably more informed, and she shared what she remembered once she understood the connection between you and Sterling. Did you know that perhaps a year before your parents were murdered the Duc dEnghien was executed for a plot to kill Napoleon? There were many who suspected the English of financing that plot. It is almost certain that we would have been in favor of that outcome, yet it was Enghien who was executed for it. Aunt Georgia suggests that Howard Sterling was murdered by the French in retaliation, either for the plot itself or for allowing Enghien to take complete responsibility for it.

Sherry watched a crease appear between Lilys brows as she considered what hed said. My aunts memory should not be discounted. She numbered your mother among her friends and paid particular attention to the rumors surrounding her death.

There are some who would have me believe my mother was not an innocent in what happened.

Now it was Sherry who frowned deeply. Who? Did Sister Mary Joseph tell you something that would make you think that? Because I can assure you it was not any part of what my aunt told me.

Not Sister, Lily said. He said it.

Sherry swore softly under his breath. Then he always knew who you were?

Perhaps not at the very first, not when he came to the abbey to select a governess, but I have always suspected that he knew of the connection by the time he returned for me. I do not think he would have gone to such lengths to run me to ground in Le Havre if he hadnt known I was Lillian Rosemeads daughter.

Sherrys eyes lifted to Lilys hair. That extraordinary color.

She nodded. I am given to understand it is a family trait. It is also likely that Bishop Corbeil told him who I was. After my parents died, the bishop had to approve my stay at the abbey. I believe it was Sister Mary Joseph who made the request.

Why werent you returned to England to be with your family?

There was no one. I am an only child of only children. My mothers mother died just before we left for Paris, my fathers mother shortly after. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born. One from drink, the other from a cancer. I did not know so much then. I have since learned of the things that influenced the bishop to permit me to remain.

Your employer again? Or Sister?

Some from each, she said. Some I learned on my own.

Sherry said nothing for a moment. Why did you never seek out Sister Mary Josephs brother? Do you remember his name?

Yes, but I thought you understood why I couldnt seek him out. He would expect it. Id hardly be safe there, worse, I would bring him down upon people who did not deserve it. He confiscated my papers at Le Havre. He knew where I intended to go.

Yes, Sherry said thoughtfully. He did. That and so much more.

Lily raised her knees toward her chest. She removed her hand from Sherrys knee so she might clasp her own. He said my mother was a whore and could not be depended upon to keep a secret. He told me my father would have been branded a traitor if my mother had been allowed to live. They were killed in their sleep, you know. Throats slit. My father had to die, he said, because he could not control my mother. It would be different with me. He would not allow me to suffer my mothers end. I could be made to do as he wishedanything he wished.

Sherry watched her lower her forehead toward her knees. She kept it there for a time, eyes closed, face pale. She did not weep, merely collected herself, drawing steady breaths and releasing each one slowly. When she raised her face she was composed again, and her eyes were frank in their assessment of him.

Could he have known the truth, my lord? Or was it like so many other things he told mea lie?

Sherry wanted to reassure her, yet he wondered if he could with no evidence. He certainly did not know what motivated the murders in Paris. His aunt had recalled the manner in which Lilys parents had been killed, but she seemed wholly unaware of any other explanation for their deaths than the one she gave him. Except for the assassin, all anyone thought they knew was merely speculation.

I believe it is wiser not to accept anything he told you as truth, Sherry said. At the very least, it is a kindness to yourself. You deserve that, Lily. You have done nothing to earn the other.

Lily nodded slowly. Is it the sort of thing you were asked to do? Slit someones throat because they spoke out of turn?

It is not speaking out of turn when someone reveals His Majestys secrets. If intent is present then the case may be made for treason.

You have not answered my question.

He exhaled sharply. Yes, Lily, it is the sort of thing I was ordered to do.

Ordered? You told me once that you had a choice.

He had wondered if she would remember their conversation when he alluded to the things he had done. Apparently she did. What he could not decide was if it was in any way helpful to him now. I could always pass on an assignment, but that did not mean the assignment was not completed. If I did not accept it, there was always someone else who did.

It does not seem to me there is much choice there.

Sherry saw that sadness had returned to her eyes. She relaxed her posture, unfolding beside him, then moved closer and rested her hand on his thigh. He realized he had not understood before, or rather he had not understood everything. The grief he was witness to did not spring only from her own memories; she was grieving for him, for that part of him that she believed he had lost.

Ahh, Lily, you are too fine for me. He gathered her up as she moved into his embrace. I should have left you in Holborn where you could save more deserving souls than mine.

Do not say it. She pressed her face against his neck. I will throw things again.

He ruffled her hair, then laid his cheek against it. That is a threat I can respect. You would make a good bowler.

I am a good bowler. What? Do you think Ive never had a turn at it? There is a version of cricket that we played in Holborn. Midge is a decent enough batsman, and I am credited with holding my own against him and many others.

Pricked your pride a bit, did I?

We are speaking of cricket, my lord, hardly a matter of no consequence.

Sherrys chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he felt her snuggle closer. He realized she was comforted by the sound of his laughter and wondered why it had taken him so long to comprehend it. I should like to match skills with you sometime, he said.

Holborn rules, my lord. You must play by Holborn rules.

There are some, then. That surprises.

It does, doesnt it? She lifted her head and kissed the corner of his mouth. Will tomorrow suit?

He caught her chin in the cup of his thumb and index finger. Do you mean it?

It is cricket, Sherry, of course I mean it.

He kissed her hard, pouring all the emotion hed failed to express this last hour into that kiss, and when he came up for air he let her know he wasnt done. He caught the corner of her mouth, her jaw, found the sensitive hollow just below her ear. She was laughing, gasping for breath, squirming deli-ciously as she tried to dodge his kisses and discovered she was only offering a new sweet spot for his lips.

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