Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,69

incredibly tired again. It was all too much to even think about. She tried to lie back once more, but Guinevere caught her by the wrist. “If you had not discovered the true severity of your family’s financial problems, would you have said yes to Blackwood even after being discovered in his arms at the ball? And by the by, why did you kiss him?”

“What?” Lilias jerked all the way upright. “I did not kiss Owen. He kissed me!”

Guinevere’s brow furrowed. “I vow I heard Greybourne muttering to himself as he was leaving our house, and it sounded as if he said, ‘Why did she kiss Owen if she did not care for him? Why?’”

“Why would he think that?” she asked, breathing in shallow, quick breaths to calm her now roiling stomach.

“Well,” Guinevere said, “my astounding powers of deduction lead me to conclude that Blackwood likely told Greybourne as much.”

“No,” she whispered, a fiery knot of anger pulsing to life within her. “He wouldn’t.”

“Darling, he has confessed to loving you forever. I think he would.”

“But he knew… He knew I loved Nash.”

Guinevere nodded. “Yes, and he did whatever he had to in order to ensure you were his. That is unforgivable in my humble opinion.”

It was more than unforgivable. Lilias was shaking with betrayal and rage. “I cannot wed him! I cannot. But how can I not? Where will Mama, Nora, and I even live? Where—”

Guinevere took Lilias’s hands. “Hush. Do you think I would let you go under? Asher and I will provide you, your mother, and sister a place to live. We will ensure the debts are paid to the ruffians who dare threaten you and your family!”

“No.” Lilias shook her head. “I cannot take your charity.”

“Fine. A loan, then.”

“I cannot take a loan without some way to pay you back.”

“Fine,” Guinevere huffed. “We will find you employment and then discuss a loan.”

Lilias needed to speak to her mother, but how on earth could she tell Mama that she wanted to call off her betrothal and cast them all into scandal and peril? “Guinevere, are you certain Carrington would allow us to stay at one of his homes? Just until I find employment, mind you.”

“I’m certain. Does this mean you’re going to break the betrothal?”

Lilias bit her lip. “I… Well, I think so, but I must talk to my mother. If she becomes too upset, if she is too fearful for me to do it, I don’t know what I shall do. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I cast my family into a worse position against my mother’s will, and I don’t know how I can hurt Nora’s future so.” Lilias wrung her hands. “But I cannot wed Owen. Not now.” She bit her lip. “I should have never relented. I’m so, so livid with him for doing what he did!”

Guinevere hugged her. “Break the betrothal. I feel certain that your future will work itself out.”

“Is it done?” Asher asked Guinevere the moment she entered their bedchamber later that night.

Guinevere had to force herself to concentrate on Asher’s question. Her husband was reclining on their bed in nothing more than a pair of skintight breeches. “It is,” she said, sitting on the bed, intending to talk, but Asher had her in his lap in a breath and was kissing her neck. “Darling,” she said, kissing him back, “I cannot concentrate this way.”

“That’s the point. Focus on us. There is nothing more we can do to push them together at this time.”

“Asher, she did not kiss Blackwood as that devil told Greybourne she did. You must make certain Greybourne hears this.”

“I will,” Asher promised, making quick work of getting her out of her gown. “We’re to meet tomorrow as I am helping Greybourne with a task.”

“Mmm…” she moaned as her husband nuzzled her neck. “I hope this task involves his aiding Lilias. Her family is in dire straits.”

“Ye know I cannot say.”

“I know.” She kissed Asher’s chest and then his lips. “But Lilias may well be living with us if Greybourne does not aid her.”

“I can promise ye that Lady Lilias will not have any more worries soon, but I cannot promise ye anything else. Greybourne’s past weighs heavily on him, and that is all I’m going to say.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!”

Asher looked puzzled. “How?”

She giggled. “No, not what you said. What you are doing with your fingers.”

Her husband’s response was to circle his fingers over her breast ever so gently again. After a moment,

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