Page 62

“Lady Slight! What an unexpected … Has anyone offered you any tea? I must apologize for not being here to receive … I do hope that Lord Filminster has been …”

From a great distance, Lily heard herself speaking and wished she could slap herself into silence.

Shut up, Lily!

She had never hated her propensity to babble more than she did in that moment. Her nerves were speaking for her, when what she really wanted was to scream at the widow to remove herself from Brendan’s person. It was pure drama, a scene from a Drury Lane production, complete with the three of them and First John standing in the wings.

And, suddenly, Lily did not have the strength to deal with it.

She just wanted to disappear into one of the many gloomy rooms of Ridley House and cry. All her worst fears had been realized, and her hopes of finding love with Brendan Ridley were for naught.

“I shall leave you to your visit, then.”

Spinning away, Lily ran down the hall, passing First John as she hurried to the little drawing room where she and Brendan had shared their first kiss … the day she had believed their marriage stood a chance. The wonderful, perfect day when she had fallen in love with her new husband.

“Lily!” Brendan’s strangled voice called after her, but she did not stop.

Running inside, she slammed the door behind her and fumbled to lock it with trembling hands. First John was not a welcome visitor just now.

Hurling herself onto a settee, Lily curled into a ball and wept in the empty room.

She had thought that, after what she had done for him and the way he had looked at her on their wedding day, they could build something real. That she had made progress in her campaign to compel Brendan to fall in love with her.

How had she ever thought she could compete with all that feminine sophistication on display?

Most men of the peerage would give their eyeteeth for Lady Slight’s attention, and foolish little Lily had thought she could convince a worldly man like Brendan to fall in love with her … by being honest and cheerful and changing her wardrobe.

What a farce.

“Oh, dear! Your wife seems a trifle upset.”

Harriet’s voice lilted with mockery, but her posture betrayed something more grasping. She leaned in toward him, far too close for comfort, her chin tilted up as though she might collapse against him again. Brendan growled in fury, barely tempering his impulse as he stepped back and raised a hand, not to touch, but to signal distance.

Enough.

His restraint held firm as he moved decisively, leading her back into the library with a stiff arm extended to indicate the path, careful to avoid even the semblance of further intimacy. The cloying cloud of rosewater and wine made him gag once more as she finally took a stumbling step away, her blue eyes widening in surprise.

This time Brendan was not brooking any argument. He was going to make his stance clear, rid his home of her once and for all, and then find Lily to straighten this travesty out.

To think that minutes earlier he had been planning to take Lily away from Ridley House and the lurking danger within, to give her the attention she deserved as his bride, only to have the vexing viscountess wreak havoc.

He gestured toward a chair. “Please, sit.”

When she hesitated, Brendan gave her a pointed look. She lowered herself into the seat with the reluctant grace of a performer asked to leave the stage. He circled the room and deliberately chose a chair across the library table from her, ensuring a safe, impersonal distance. Let there be no mistaking his resolve.

“Lady Slight, you are not welcome in my home.”

Harriet’s cheeks flamed, her narrowed gaze landing on him like a blade. Brendan considered his options. If he were cruel or scolded her mercilessly, the viscountess would have endless opportunities to seek revenge by belittling Lily or spreading gossip among the ton. Worse, she could attempt mischief like this again if he pushed her too far, which would only wound his wife again.

If his mother were here, she would advise him to be kind. She would point out that each person carries their own burden. That life could be crushing, and one cannot know the trials a person has endured. And when it was possible, one should attempt to lighten their load and disengage without fighting.

Deuce it. He would far rather berate her and throw her out of his home in a rage after such ignominious behavior, but . . .

I do not know the burdens that Harriet might carry. Or what vengeance she might seek against Lily.

“I delighted in our time together.” Brendan struggled to find cajoling words to persuade her to leave his home and never return. “We enjoyed those days. But this was always to be a temporary arrangement. You have no wish for permanent ties, and I … I find that I do. Because of circumstances beyond our control, Lady Filminster is my wife, and I am not a man to dally with multiple women.”

“You no longer want me?”