Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,39

and slender. She knew what was coming as his gaze seemed to delve into hers, and she did not feel anticipation or happiness, only dread and sadness. “Lilias, will you wed me?”

She knew she had to say yes—for her mother, for her sister—but her treacherous, selfish lips would not form the word. The parlor door banged open in that instant, and her mother fairly stumbled in, a horrified look upon her face. Nora was behind her.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Nora sang, and Lilias understood that Nora must have leaned against their mother and caused them both to fall into the door, which hadn’t been shut firmly.

“Lilias, have you accepted?” Nora asked, the picture of wide-eyed innocence and poverty with her too small gown that had a hem trailing and was approaching threadbare.

“Nora,” Mama chided, looking as if she was about to faint, looking exhausted with dark circles under her eyes.

How had Lilias been so blind to what was really occurring with everyone around her? How could she say no?

She could not.

Chapter Six

“Good morning, Nash!”

The skip in Owen’s step as he happily waltzed into the study and past Nash’s butler was like a dagger in Nash’s heart. So the deed was done. Owen had obviously asked Lilias to wed him, and she must have said yes.

“I take it you are betrothed,” Nash said and quickly cleared his throat. His voice sounded shaky. Why was this so damned hard to speak of?

“Yes,” Owen replied, a rather smug look coming to his face. He half sat on the edge of Nash’s desk, grinning like a peacock. “I can’t tarry. I have a great deal to do today, but I wanted you to hear it from me and give you my thanks for all you did to assist me in getting the girl I love.”

Nash knew he needed to reply. Owen was looking at him expectantly, and so Nash wrestled with his mind, which felt sluggish, to come up with a suitable response, but it was hard. So very hard. He imagined congratulating Owen, but the thought curdled on his tongue. He imagined punching him in his irritating smile. Nash gripped his desk on that idea. In the end, all he could manage was, “Excellent.”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” Owen crowed. “I don’t mind telling you now, but I had created fears in my head that did not exist. I had thought perhaps she might turn me down because I’m not overly exciting or that she held some ridiculous girlhood tendre for you that would have been roused by your reappearance.”

Nash wasn’t sure if he groaned or laughed at Owen’s words, but he’d done something. Owen was looking at him quizzically and took in a hissing breath. “I’m pleased to report I had worried over nothing. She kissed me last night on the balcony, and she was beside herself with joy this morning when I called upon her.”

Nash did not feel like himself. He was in some other man’s skin, a man who had to respond, to act happy, to be affable. He forced a smile to lips that felt brittle. “I’m glad.” Glad that Owen has to depart soon. “Where is it you need to be?” Time could not move Owen in that direction fast enough. Nash tried to swallow, but his throat no longer worked. He was parched, dry inside. The life was being sucked out of him.

“Oh, here and there,” Owen said, rising. “I’ll see you soon.”

Nash managed a grunt as Owen made for the door, and it was damn lucky Owen did not look back and say anything else. A single thread of restraint held Nash in place at the moment, and when his study door shut, he shoved back his chair, made for the wall, counted to one hundred to ensure Owen was far enough away, and then he began to beat his fist against the wall until the pain in his hand overshadowed the pain in his chest.

“I didn’t know ye frequented my club.”

Nash scowled but turned in his chair at Carrington’s voice behind him. “This is my first visit since you told me of your partial ownership in it,” Nash replied, then picked up the drink that had just been delivered to him and downed it in one gulp.

“Mind if I sit?” Carrington asked, sweeping a hand toward the empty chair across the table.

Nash was not in the mood for company, especially a man wed to Lilias’s best friend, even if Carrington was Nash’s friend, as well. The duke