an unexpected journey at first light tomorrow would confirm his suspicions.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Children’s voices penetrated Lilah’s dreams, and she opened her eyes. Though the air was cold, the furs kept her warm, like a cocoon. Thea’s voice carried across the wind, punctuated by squeals of merriment as she played with the housekeeper’s children.
Free from the confines of London society, Thea’s personality came to the fore. She loved children, and though she was deemed too old for the society marriages Dexter wanted for them all, she was looking forward to becoming an aunt.
Dexter had rented them a house on the outskirts of Bath, close enough to enable Lilah to take the waters if she wished. And it came with a sizeable garden, which enabled her to enjoy the fresh air away from the judgmental eyes of the world.
The lawn stretched toward a line of trees leading to a pond, where the occasional ripple of a fish disturbed the surface. In the center of the lawn, an armillary sphere stood atop a stone pillar surrounded by rose bushes. Frost covered their leaves as if they’d been dusted with sugar.
But despite the cold, spring filled the air. Bright green shoots poked through the frost and would soon burst into vivid colors.
The season of rebirth and new beginnings.
Dexter had offered to find Lilah a husband. Despite having warned her he’d not give her another dowry, he promised he’d ensure she was provided for. She had expected her brother to be angry with her, but his anger and disgust were directed at Sir Thomas. Dexter had begun to suspect that he had been involved in producing the leaflets inciting the riot at Clayton House. But, where Lilah may originally have wanted to see the man brought to justice, she now only wanted to forget he’d ever existed.
As to finding a husband, she was done with placing herself at the mercy of a man. All that mattered was her child. Where she’d planned to battle the world, she now had a new challenge—that of nurturer and protector. The world would have to wait.
She shifted position to ease the ache in her back and placed a hand on her belly, whispering a greeting as she felt the child move.
Ruined she may have been, but out of that ruination, had come a life. Whatever he thought of Lilah now, the child had been conceived out of love.
Her love.
“I cannot wait to meet you, little one,” she whispered. “And you will be loved. By so many people. Your aunt and uncle…”
Laughter erupted behind her, the uninhibited squeals of young souls who knew nothing of the world.
A tear formed in her eye, and she wiped it away. But she had no right to wallow in self-pity. Her child would want for nothing. What was a little scorn from society compared to the hardships many other women endured?
And what did it matter if she surveyed the landscape before her and found it wanting, compared to the rugged mountains and hillsides of the Highlands?
No—she had no desire to see the mountain again.
None at all.
Not the wild, wide-open spaces, nor the fresh air, the cries of the eagles, or the majestic peaks which stretched toward the heavens…
Moisture stung her eyes, and she blinked.
She heard raised voices—a man’s voice, pleading, and Thea’s sharp tones. Lilah closed her eyes.
Thea must be admonishing the butler again, Lilah smiled. Her sister always took the housekeeping too seriously. She’d never forget the years of poverty they’d endured before Dexter made his fortune.
A familiar, rich voice invaded her mind. She bit her lip, but it persisted, as unyielding as the Highland rocks against which he’d almost claimed her.
The voice grew louder. Angry, indignant—as it was on the day he’d cast her out.
The voices stopped. Footsteps approached, but she kept her eyes closed and tipped her face toward the sun, relishing the warmth on her face and the soft pink glow through her eyelids.
A shadow passed over her.
“Delilah.”
The soft whisper, filled with love, resonated through her bones. She smiled, and the touch solidified as strong fingers interlocked with hers. Warm, soft lips caressed her skin.
She opened her eyes and looked into a clear blue ocean.
Unable to forget the anger which had darkened those eyes the last time she saw them, she withdrew her hand and pulled the furs up to her chin as if to protect herself. But he grasped her hand again, and she surrendered. Her body responded to his touch, and shivers of need tightened her skin as he