Page 7 of The Lady
But what other option did she have?
Lord Greene was her appointed guardian, but she had no money and no resources to make her way to his estates. Perhaps she could write him a letter, but would he even want to hear from her? Even if she did write him, likely he would have already heard from Lady Felton, and Delilah could only imagine what she would have said. Surely, he would believe her over Delilah, too, as she was his aunt. Delilah was just a ward who had been thrust upon him, and he had already fulfilled his duty to her as best he could.
She had no friends among thetonwho might offer her refuge. She had never met any family members if there were even any about. She was completely alone, and she had nowhere to go.
And she was so numb, so adrift, she could not even shed a tear.
3
Lady Delilah Darling
The door opened,and Delilah could not help but look before quickly shutting her eyes. She was on the bed, exactly where he’d left her, quaking with fear, she’d be punished for something. Anything. She heard him approaching... then a hard grip wrapped around her ankle, yanking her toward him across the bed. With a shriek, her eyes flew open, the taste of fear drying her mouth. She stared up at him, confused when she realized his expression was almost gentle.
“Hello, pet.” Keeping his fingers wrapped around her ankle, he stroked the soft skin there, his deep voice soothing, coaxing. The kind of voice she might use on a frightened animal. The comparison rankled, yet she could not deny how fitting it was.
For a long moment, they stared at each other before she gathered what little was left of her courage. Or perhaps it was desperation pushing her.
“What do you want with me?”
Dark eyes met hers with a piercing gaze as if he could see past her physical form and dig out her deepest secrets with just a glance. Delilah lowered her lashes and bit her lip, wishing she had not spoken. Was she so desperate to meet her fate?
“I think, pet, the real question is, what do you want from me?” The mild question shocked her, and her gaze skittered back up to his. The expression on his face was implacable, although his eyes were as intense as before, lit with a fire from within.
“What do you mean?”
Amusement flashed. “What do you want, little pigeon? You are running, yes? So, tell me what you need. Protection? Room and board? A place to belong?”
Her breath caught in her throat. All of those things. But how could he possibly provide? While Lady Felton would likely not pursue Delilah on her own accord, she could scarcely go and tell her nephew she had lost his ward. Even blaming Delilah’s flight on her own actions, there would be questions. Uncomfortable ones. Lord Greene took his duty very seriously, even if his focus was currently on his pregnant wife. He would not take kindly to Lady FeltonlosingDelilah in the streets of London.
“You cannot protect me. Not from... a countess.” She said the words with bitter despair before a wild hope welled up inside of her. “Perhaps... perhaps you could help send me away? Send me somewhere out of the reach of London?” That was her only hope. It would have to be somewhere she was unknown. After a few weeks in Lady Felton’s care, living a simple life in the country, even if she never married, sounded greatly appealing.
Her hopes plummeted again when he slowly shook his head.
“No, pet, I don’t think that will do. I cannot protect you if you are off elsewhere.”
“I just told you, you cannot protect me anyway! I’m the ward of anEarl. The... the woman I am running from, she will not let me go.” She looked up at him, pleadingly, even more confused as his fingers continued to stroke her ankle, sliding up several inches to just below her calf as he chuckled.
“They have no power here in the Warrens.” The confidence with which he said it nearly made her believe him. “Iam the only real power here.”
“But... anearl. Acountess.”
He laughed outright. “I am the Tramp. Dukes dance to my tune when I demand it, pet. An earl is nothing.”
The statement made no sense, yet she could tell he was sincere. Her entire world felt as if it was upending in an entirely different way than before. A title not mattering? Thetonwould scream blasphemy, but the idea appealed to Delilah in a manner she would have never thought possible. If titles did not matter to him, if he really could order around a duke, maybe he really could protect her. He seemed so certain.
“You can protect me?” she whispered, still not quite able to believe it.
“I can.” His eyes glinted, and he pulled her ankle again, much slower than he had the first time, slowly drawing her across the mattress to him. Her heart began to pound, but in a different manner than when the terrible twins and Lady Felton had made her pulse race. The very air thickened, time slowed, and her skin tingled with unprecedented sensitivity as if her body had just woken up. “Now that I know what you want from me, we can discuss what I want from you.”
“What do you want?” Her heart began to pound, mouth going dry. A bargain with the devil was what this felt like.
He loomed over her, her skirts around her knees, yet she could do nothing but stare up at him. The dark brown pools of his eyes consumed her, blazing with something she didn’t understand.
“I want you.”
The declaration made no sense. His lips pressed against hers and Delilah gasped with shock. This was not her first kiss, but it might as well have been. This man was no young man, sneaking a kiss, with uncertain lips and hands before anyone could see them. No, he caught her lips, and hetook. Conquered. Claimed. His tongue slid into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips and holding her against the bed while his weight came down atop her, and Delilah mewled beneath him.
Uncertain how or where to touch him, her hands pressed against his chest, and she could feel his muscles flexing beneath her fingers. The ache in her legs was replaced by a hot throbbing between them, she had never felt before. It was as if her body had caught fire, and she did not know how to put it out. The longer he kissed her, the dizzier she became. The sound of fabric ripping shocked her, and she shrieked against his lips, squirming beneath him. Lifting his upper body, he looked down at her beautiful pink dress, torn from the neck to the waist, and smiled.
