broken those rules.
Then Frederica’s carriage had been stolen in the rookery. A dirty, though devilishly cute, urchin boy had shown up at Lilias’s home and told her Frederica was in need of her help and where to find her. Lilias had collected a dazed Frederica from a rather surly redhead, taken her home, and helped her sneak back into her bedchamber. Having done all that, she was certain her hair was in utter disarray. Not to mention her gown was soiled and torn from helping Frederica up the tree to her window. And Lilias was missing a slipper. It had fallen off while climbing, and she had not been able to find it in the dark.
No, she most definitely did not look anywhere close to the picture she’d wanted to present: the woman he’d see and ask himself why he let her get away. Of course she knew she ought not let her mind go down such paths, but honestly, she tried and her mind refused to obey. It was a problem. A large one. Especially now that she was betrothed to Owen, a man who didn’t make her mind go anywhere other than to fond memories of pleasant times with a good friend. It was all so depressing and final.
“Lilias, did you hear me?” he bellowed, making her scowl. “I asked what the devil are you doing out at this hour?”
“I heard you,” she bit out, her irritation rising as she studied him. A suspicion arose. His untied cravat had not raised any inner alarms, nor had his being upon the lane at such a late hour. She knew men went to gaming hells and gentlemen’s clubs late at night. It was the lip paint smeared on his cheek that made a hard realization hit her. He’d been dashing out on the lane from a woman’s house—or the lady’s bedchamber more likely. Lilias’s stomach clenched. An illicit affair? Was the woman wed? Did it even matter?
No. No, it did not.
Nash had stolen her heart, albeit apparently not purposely, and he’d frozen it while she’d waited for him for seven long years. Although, again, not purposely on his part. Then he had crushed it when she’d seen him at his house, and again on the terrace. Honestly, there should not be even the tiniest portion of her heart left to break, but she vowed she heard a crack as she stared at that lip paint.
“It is none of your concern what I’m doing out,” she said and tried to snatch her reins away.
But he held firm and scowled up at her. Even scowling, he was a sight to behold. Firm, full lips. Chiseled jawline. Arched brows that displayed his annoyance perfectly. “You are my concern,” he shot back.
Her heart squeezed, though she tried to stop it. The concern he spoke of was not the sort she had longed for, and now that she was betrothed, it would be devastating in an entirely different way if she were to learn Nash did indeed care for her. The situation was intolerable. She almost wished he’d go back to Scotland. Almost. She could not quite make herself truly wish him away. She supposed she must enjoy the torture of being near him.
Really, her thoughts were most inappropriate. She had to take herself in hand and get home quickly. She could not chance being seen out at night alone, nor with Nash. Either discovery would destroy Owen, not to mention endanger their betrothal and her mother’s and sister’s well-beings.
“We have absolutely no ties to each other anymore,” she said, yanking on the reins again to no avail, “so I am not your concern.”
“You are wrong,” he said, the words making her hope soar. “You are betrothed to Owen, which binds us.”
Her hope plummeted. Again. She prayed it stayed down permanently this time. It was a futile hope at this point, anyway. “Let go my reins! If I’m discovered with you, the scandal will set London on fire.”
“I’m more concerned about your being out alone than a possible scandal, Lilias. Besides—” he glanced up and down the empty lane “—there is no one out and about at this hour.”
“Besides men returning to their homes after trysts with lovers,” she snapped, eyeing him. Silence fell. Blast him. “Who is she?” The soft words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. She was mortified, but she did not take the question back.
“No one you know,” Nash supplied.
Fury and hurt rose up in her throat to