Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,70

he paused and glanced at her. “Will you regret what we’ve done if it does not work out for them?”

Guinevere did not even hesitate. “It will work out. I am certain.” She gave Asher a deep kiss, to which he responded by flipping her onto her back and coming between her thighs.

He offered a loving smile as he hovered above her. “I love yer heart.” He kissed her. “And yer breasts.” He kissed each one. “And yer lips.” He kissed those, as well, sending her pulse spinning. “Shall I tell ye every part of ye I love?”

She grinned wickedly. “I think in this one instance, I’d prefer you to kiss me on every part of me you love.”

“Ah, my sweet, wicked wife. Ye command, and I obey.”

Chapter Eleven

A sennight after Nash had last seen Lilias at the Orcus Society, his solicitor sat in Nash’s study gathering the papers Nash had just signed. “That’s it, Your Grace. Lady Lilias’s mother is now the proud owner of Charingworth Manor in the Cotswolds. She’ll receive these papers tomorrow from the Earl of Barrowe, her late husband’s brother, indicating that he has given her the house outright. That was quite a bit of luck that the house you wanted of Lord Barrowe’s happened to be unentailed.”

“Yes,” Nash agreed, picking up his drink and taking a sip. The brandy burned a trail down his throat to his stomach. He wished it could burn away his past sins so he could have a future with the only woman he would ever love.

He finished the drink, set down the glass, and stared out the window into the meticulously designed garden of his Mayfair home. He’d trade all his property, all his money, all his worldly possessions to have had one night with Lilias to keep in his memory before he’d discovered Owen loved her, as well. Night was falling quickly, shadows overtaking the picturesque view of the garden, and with the darkness outside came the darkness within. It had been especially bad since he had said goodbye to Lilias. Every day not seeing her felt like a lifetime.

He considered once more what he’d done for her and her family, what he’d set in motion and asked Carrington to help him do, and he decided he didn’t give a damn if he’d overstepped or not. He needed to give her the freedom to have choices for her life, not to be afraid, not to be compelled to wed Owen if she truly did not wish to. Though he still did not understand why she had kissed Owen on the balcony that night if she had no feelings for him. Since they’d last parted, he had considered going to her and asking her a thousand times, but he dismissed the idea every time.

That was what a selfish person would do. He had to let things go, to let her go. Nash had sealed his own fate long before he’d met Lilias. He’d done what he could for her, and it would not lead back to him. He’d paid her uncle handsomely to tell Lilias and her family that the earl had decided to make the house her mother’s and that Lord Barrowe had also paid his brother’s, Lilias’s father’s, debts to the miscreants out of a suddenly discovered affection for his late brother’s family. The Earl of Barrowe was to concoct an excuse that he’d almost died and had a dream in which his brother’s ghost visited him and chastised him for not watching out for his nieces and sister-in-law. It was ridiculous. It was a tale worthy of a book, and that’s exactly why Nash expected that his sweet dreamer Lilias would believe it. Even if she didn’t, no one could prove he was the one who had taken care of the debts except his solicitor and Carrington, and neither man would betray Nash.

His solicitor, Mr. Farnsworth, cleared his throat. Nash looked up at the man and asked yet again, “You’re certain we took care of all the family debts?” He wanted nothing left for Lilias or her mother to worry about. He knew Owen could have done it, but he also knew it would have shamed Lilias to ask him. This way, she did not have to ask and could choose her own fate.

“Yes, Your Grace. The man I hired is the best, and with the information you gave me that the Duke of Carrington collected on who Lady Lilias’s father owed, I feel certain no one