Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (5 page)

“Lilly’s life is being threatened by her stepfather, and whoever else is guilty with him. I found out this morning that a rather nefarious character has been asking after her whereabouts. I’m hoping I can lead him away from Lilly, and maybe find out where her stepfather has been hiding.”

“
But how are we going to do that?” Olivia asked, her tears beginning to ebb as hope lit in her eyes.

“I’m not sure there is anything we as a group can do. I need to speak with Dominic before I can do anything. I don’t want to inadvertently damage his investigation
, if I can help it.”

“Dominic Coel? The Earl of Redwick?” Devon asked.

“The very same,” Chance answered.

“I thought he retired from the office
?”

“
He did, but they can never seem to let go of a very good sp-...uh, employee,” Chance snorted.

“Tell us what we can do Chance, if anything
,” Lydia spoke up finally.

“I’m not sure there is
much we can do, at this point. I’m going to set up a watch for the man who was asking for Millie, and have him followed.”

“Who’s Millie?” Olivia asked
in confusion.

“Oh, it’s the name Lilly used while she was working as a servant.”

“She worked as a servant?” Two feminine voices said at once.

“Oh
, poor Lilly, she must feel so alone,” Lydia said tearfully.

“What can we do
, Chance? How can we help? I just can’t sit here while my best friend is being hunted for treason!” Olivia said fiercely.

Chance was
silent for a moment.

“Just be patient. I will let you know when I know something.”

“And if we can help,” Olivia demanded.

“Yes
, Livie.” Chance sighed. “For such a small woman, you sure are authoritative of men considerably bigger than you.”

“
You can say that again,” Devon murmured.

“
I will keep you informed, if I can, through Devon. We will not let Lilly come to any harm, I assure you.”

“Give h
er our love,” Lydia spoke up. “She’s in our thoughts and not alone. I want her to know that we are thinking of and praying for her every day.”

“
Will do, Lydia.” Chance jumped down from the coach and waved goodbye.

“Well
, look at that. The ice queen has a heart.” Devon smirked at Lydia.

“I would slap you Devon Brentton if I weren’t afraid of catching some vile perverse disease from the mere touch.”

Devon winked devilishly. “You would have to be intimate with me to do that, love. If I had one—which I assure you, I don’t.”

“
Devon, Lydia!” Olivia gasped in shock. “How can you say such things to each other?”

“It comes quite naturally to me. Wouldn’t you agree
, Lydia?”

“
I agree. Filth comes out of your mouth quite effortlessly, especially when speaking to women.”

“Only to you
, love.”

“
How dare you!”

“Devon
, please do not bait her.” Olivia slid closer to Lydia. “She may be the epitome of grace and elegance, but I do believe you could push her to become violent.”

Devon laughed
aloud, and Olivia thought she heard Lydia growl, so she put her arms around her friend.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked.

“I’m restraining you,” Olivia replied, and Devon laughed even harder.

That afternoon, Lydia attended a small garden party in Hampshire. She stood on a grand terrace overlooking a large lawn dotted with tables and umbrellas. It was a pleasantly warm and sunny day with a gentle breeze flirting with hair ribbons and skirts. Lady Ogilvie’s garden parties were huge events that featured performers, contests and a formal ball held outside as the sun set with a string quartet. Devon would surely be in attendance along with Olivia and her parents. She was hesitant to see him after all that had transpired in the morning. Everything was confusing now. Why did he incite such strong emotions in her? Did she truly dislike him? But then why was she constantly thinking of him, and why did she imagine his kisses more times than she cared to admit, even to herself. She felt like a marionette being pulled in too many directions, never knowing which way was right. She was angry with herself and him. He joked and spared with her as usual, but now everything had a deeper meaning. They had kissed twice now, and each time it did not feel like mere dalliance, it felt like… an awakening. A swell of emotion Lydia didn’t know she could feel, and didn’t understand, infused her. It made her want and imagine things that were forbidden to her. When Devon kissed her, all she wanted was more. It was an exhausting conundrum, and it needed to stop. Lydia refused to be toyed with.

She would speak to him and tell him he could keep his kisses to himself
, and to leave her alone. Glancing around the party there would be ample opportunity to find a private place to talk away from prying eyes and ears. Lady Ogilvie’s grounds were extensive and harbored many arbors, pergolas, and even a folly down by the lake thickly covered with ivy. It was a short walk but away from the bulk of festivities garnering enough privacy for a little chat. There they could talk, and put this indecent situation behind them. Lydia had to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed. Never had anyone been brave enough to kiss her. When she was in his arms, she felt wanted and beautiful—not cold and aloof as her reputation presented her to be. Her reputation was as spotless as a newborn babe was, and that was important to her and her mother, but it was also boring. Would she ever feel this excitement again? This anticipation? What would she do if he tried to kiss her again? She was lost in her daydreams when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“Dearest
, I would like to introduce you to someone.”

Lydia turned to find her mother standing
with an older gentleman she had never seen before. She smiled politely.

“
It is my pleasure to introduce my lovely daughter, Lady Lydia.” Lady Covvington beamed with pride as Lydia executed a perfect curtsy. “Lydia this is Lord Caverly, Earl of Blankwort. He resides here in Hampshire and is well-known for his extensive collection of ancient Greek literature.”

“How do you do
, Lady Lydia?” Lord Caverly took her hand and brushed a chaste kiss across her knuckles.

“Very well
, thank you. I hope you are enjoying the fine weather today.” Lydia glanced at her hand still clasped in his.

“Very much so
. Lady Covvington has told me so much of you and your accomplishments that I insisted on an introduction at once. It is such an honor to be acquainted with such a virtuous young lady.” He beamed.

Lydia smiled back tentatively. Lord Caverly had to be somewhere around her mother’s age. He stood just a couple inches taller than Lydia
, and had salt and pepper hair, and creases around kind greyish blue eyes. He must have been handsome as a young man. Instead of letting himself go as older gentlemen of privilege did, he looked remarkably fit, albeit a little soft around the middle. Lydia looked to her mother inquisitively, and wondered how they knew each other. Her mother’s delight was palpable, and Lydia was perplexed. Was her mother looking for a husband?

“I have not seen you around town
, Lord Caverly. Do you favor the season?” Lydia carefully took her hand from his, and folded her hands in front of her.

“I do not
. Much too crowded for my tastes. I prefer the quiet of Hampshire where I can stay close to my books, but still have the city close for the necessities. I do frequent London but not for social occasions. That duty fell to my wife, God rest her soul as she passed two years ago.”

“You have m
y sincerest condolences, my lord.” Lydia grew uncomfortable. Usually, she could pick up the undertones of the meaning behind introductions her mother brought to her, but she was only growing more confused.

“Lady Caverly was a friend of mine growing up
, dear. It was only recently I came across Lord Caverly while shopping on Bond Street, and became reacquainted. How fortunate he should come here today.” Lydia’s mother beamed at both of them. “Lord Caverly is also an excellent huntsman, and has agreed to participate in the archery contest. Isn’t that just delightful, Lydia? We must do all we can to show him that life is considerably more tolerable outside his books. Perhaps, if you are there to cheer him on, he will take first prize!”

Outwardly,
Lydia smiled politely at her mother and Lord Caverly, but inside alarm bells started ringing. A widowed man of Lord Caverly’s age only had one reason to attend a social gathering such as this, and it wasn’t to win archery contests. He was in need of a wife, and most likely an heir to his title.

“That would be delightful
,” Lydia responded. It appeared her mother was of the idea that Lord Caverly would make a suitable spouse for her daughter. He wasn’t that bad looking, but he certainly wasn’t the stuff young girls dreamed of when picturing their future husbands. An image of Devon popped into her head. She could not stop herself from comparing the two men. Devon was young, strong, and beguilingly handsome. He oozed charm and sinful wit. Lydia knew from experience that underneath his fine gentleman’s clothes, his body was muscular and lean. She could feel it when she had her body pressed against his and her arms around him. Lydia dropped her head to hide her blush, but was unsuccessful.

Sensing her discomfiture
, her mother took her hand and gave it a gentle pat. “We won’t keep you, Lydia. I can see your friends have arrived. Why don’t you go greet them?” She turned to Lord Caverly. “My Lydia will make an exceptional hostess for her future husband, whom ever that may be.”

Oh
, dear God. Lydia quickly curtsied to Lord Caverly and made her escape. Her cheeks were practically boiling in embarrassment as she turned around, and saw Olivia and Devon coming across the lawn. Her eyes instantly connected with Devon, and it seemed as if he were all she could see. She turned and walked away from the party, heading towards the folly and its seclusion. She could not control her emotions, and feared that if she stayed and tried to put on airs of serenity, she would fail miserably. Her stomach was tied in knots, and her mind jumbled with thoughts and feelings she couldn’t harness. She hurried away from the sounds of guests and reached the folly, collapsing onto a cushioned bench. It opened to the water where a swan gracefully glided across the surface. The sun bounced off the water creating cozy warmth inside the folly, and cast wavering streaks of light across the walls. Lydia exhaled in relief and put her hand to her brow. What in the world was she going to do? Until now, she had never given much thought to the man she would marry, but it would appear her mother had, and if her mother made the choice for her, what was she to say?

Lydia remembered their last conversation about marriage
, and it suddenly made sense. She would choose an older gentleman for her own daughter and expect not even a peep of disobedience from Lydia. Why would she? Lydia has always done exactly as told, and never once voiced her own opinion or complained. It seemed a marriage of convenience would be her fate, and as for love and passion? Well…

H
er traitorous mind produced an image of Devon. His smile, his eyes, the feel of his lips… A marriage bed with Devon in it would be far from frightening. He could sooth each fear with a kiss or with the touch of his hands. But Lydia could never marry Devon. Her mother would never allow it, nor would she be able to marry any young handsome gentleman, unless he could prove himself as moral and virtuous as a priest. Such a man did not exist. Lydia would have to except a life and marriage as cool tempered as her reputation.

The thought alone made her want to cry. A mere week
ago, she probably would have found the idea acceptable but now? Now that she knew what she could feel in the arms of a man just from mere kisses, she would know what she were missing every day for the rest of her life. Perhaps, if she married a man like Devon, she would at least feel that incendiary passion for a little while before his fickle attentions moved on or maybe, just maybe, she would be enough for her husband, and he wouldn’t have the need to stray.

Lydia could hear footsteps coming down the gravel path and quickly smoothed
her skirts, sat up straight, and clasped her hands in her lap. She gazed at the water and composed her expression to one of contentment. A figure came around the corner and stepped into the folly. Lydia looked up and found Devon gazing at her with a frown.

“I did not think you were a coward.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lydia replied quizzically.

“I saw you run away. The formidable Lydia ran to ground instead of facing her adversary. Am I that intimidating?”

Lydia didn’t know how to respond. Nothing was the same, including her own mind. Everything she thought she knew about herself and her world was upside down. How could one even begin to explain that? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t confide in him, in fact, he was one of the few people she could be herself around. That had to mean something.