Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor #3)(4)

He looked to her again with disdain seeping from his eyes. “What in blazes are you doing here?”

Her breath caught. Her lower lip trembled and she hated it. Hated it because it was a telltale sign of her weakness and despair. But more, she hated herself for having been so foolishly na?ve. Regardless of his lofty title as duke, he’d taken her virginity and she expected, nay demanded, more.

Lily searched for words. His face remained a smooth, unaffected mask. She searched for a hint of warmth. How could she have been so deceived? How? “I gave myself to you.” Her voice cracked and she buried that sound in her trembling fingertips. But once, in a moment of madness, she was swayed by the skillful words on his lips.

The duchess’ shocked gasp split the quiet.

Ignoring the exclamation, Lily continued. “I love...loved you, and you promised me...” Her voice broke and a dratted sheen of tears filled her eyes. For her reservations that day in the Carlisle countryside, he’d promised to give her his name in love.

“This is your lesson on what happens when you bed the village girls,” his mother snapped. “After you are wed, then you may bed whomever you wish, but by God behave with some discretion until then.” She spared a lethal glance for the two stone-faced servants. “If a word is said about any of this, I’ll turn you out without a reference and ruin you so that employment will not even exist for you within Newgate itself.”

Feeling a player in a farcical drama, Lily looked blankly to the white-faced footman. He gulped and hastily dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Surely you did not believe I would marry you?” At the ugly laugh that spilled past George’s lips, nausea churned in her belly.

She stared, stricken, his words blasting through the foolish love she’d carried. “Yes,” she whispered. “I did.” I am going to be vomit.

Lily gagged and the duke stumbled away from her. “Egads, do not go casting your evening meal at my feet.”

If she could muster the proper ability to formulate a sentence she’d point out that she’d not eaten a meal in more than a day. With the precious coin handed her by her father, she’d preserved those coins with greater care than she’d guarded her own virginity. “You cannot simply turn me away.” A denial screamed around her mind, even as panic threatened to cut off her airflow.

His mother threw her hands up. “By God, give her coins and be done with her. You have your meeting with Holdsworth and then the betrothal ball. Imagine the scandal if a single guest arrives to find your whore here?” She seethed and the sneer on her lips transformed the regal woman into a harsh, ugly figure that matched her soul. “Lady Barbara’s father will never allow the match under such dubious beginnings.”

Lady Barbara? Through the peculiar humming in her ears, Lily struggled to make sense of the odd jumble of words and names.

The betrothal ball?

Dutifully, the duke fished a small purse from his pocket and held it out.

Lily stared blankly at mother and son. Money. He would pay her like a whore in a tavern who’d served but one purpose. Cold iced over her heart.

He shook his hand and the coins within jangled.

She cocked her head.

He gave his fingers another shake. “Off you go.”

As her hand curled tightly, reflexively over the pouch, she went hot and then cold, sick with a dangerous blend of shame, agony, and fury. He was to be married. To a proper lady...and you are nothing but a whore. After all, whores took payment for the gift of their virtue.

She choked. How could she have ever believed herself in love with one such as him?

“See her out, Sutton,” the duke instructed. Without a backward glance, he wheeled around—and left.

Before Lily could move, the footman wrapped powerful hands about her forearms hard enough to raise bruises. She cried out, as he hauled her physically through the hall and to the foyer. Pulling against his punishing grip, the man only tightened his hold.

With Lily kicking her legs and flailing, the butler rushed forward and pulled the door open. Biting rain stung her face and sucked the breath from her lungs.

“Miss Bennett?” the duchess called out, staying the butler.

For a moment, hope kindled that there was a sliver of good in this woman and she would insist George do right by her. She glanced back. “Do not return to this household or I will see your family ruined.” The duchess peered past Lily. “Get her out, now.”

A gasp exploded from her, as the footman hurled her down the steps and into the street. Lily crashed hard on her hip, landing in a deep puddle. Tears smarted behind her eyes as the autumn rain soaked her modest cloak and her dress all the more.

Her valise followed behind her. It sailed through the air and fell open. The meager contents of her existence spilled into a thick puddle at her feet. She stared at the small wooden box made by her brother, Sheldon, two years earlier. It would be ruined. It would be spoiled by the rain if she did not have a care.

The door rattled from the force of Sutton slamming it and Lily continued to stare, dazed. An empty numbness dulled the agony of betrayal, leaving in its place the renewed terror.

Lightning lit the skies.

What will I do? Her breath came hard and fast. Her father’s warnings came rushing back, slapping her with the truth of her own naiveté and foolishness.

“Hello, miss.” She blinked. “Miss? Are you all right?”