Read Online Summers, Jordan by Gothic Passions [html] - Free Book Online Page A

agitation in her father’s voice grated on Lily’s
nerves.
    “No Father, I don’t.” Lily shook her head. “Is he not
established? Does he not have title and riches greater than my own? You told me
to capture the attention of someone who could return our family to their former
standing. I did so in spades.”
    “I gave you the names of the men who you should have
been trying to tempt, but you disobeyed me. I will not have it, daughter.” He
growled, shaking his head. “I’m telling you, gel, Lord Lyon is a monster. He
ruined my friend Longfellow for the sheer pleasure of it, left the man without
a farthing to his name. You have no idea what that fiasco cost me. He’d ruin me
if I gave him half the chance.”
    Lily’s eyes widened at her father’s strange comment. “Why
in the world would you say that? Aunt Margaret seems to think he’s a fine
catch.”
    Devlin grabbed Lily by the upper arms spinning her
until she faced him. “Leave her out of it.” His eyes blazed with anger and
fear.
    “You’re hurting me,” Lily cried out, the sound
strained, pain-filled.
    He released her and walked to the fireplace. Wood
crackled and spit as the flames enveloped the logs. The library glowed with
warmth, the smell of pine wafted in the air. Lily paced to the center of the
room, worrying her hands. Her father peered into the blaze, his stare distant
as if remembering a far away dream. He rested one arm on the mantle while the
other reached for his glass of brandy. He took a heavy swallow, his lips
thinning as the heat from the liquid burned its way down his throat. Suddenly
as if remembering her presence he spoke, his blue eyes so much like her own,
pinning her in place.
    “I shall not be defied on this, daughter. You will not
ruin my plans. It’s bad enough you showed yourself to be of easy virtue, by
dancing with him more than twice, then allowing him to escort you to my side.”
There was a subtle menace in his tone, but something more flicked in his gaze…
worry. If it were the latter, she was sure it wasn’t for her.
    “Father, rest assured, I have no designs of aligning
myself with a rake of the first order.” Not with Lord Martins or with Richard,
did she?
    No, no absolutely not. If her mother’s circumstances
had taught her one thing, it was that men like Richard could never be trusted
with your heart. But given her father’s present state, he didn’t need to know
Richard had temporarily addled her brain, making her forget her vow.
    She didn’t even fully understand why it had occurred.
Only that she couldn’t let it happen again. Lily didn’t need to think about
Richard’s mahogany hair, or his pale skin, or the way his lips felt when they
touched hers. And it was absolutely imperative she forget his strong hands and
how he was able to guide her effortlessly over the dance floor, as if they were
one.
    Lily released an exaggerated breath. “No one’s going to
think I’m a lady-bird just because I allowed a rake to escort me from the dance
floor.”
    “We’ll soon see. You know how merciless the dowagers
and haughty matrons can be.” Archibald took another drink of brandy. “It took
me several minutes to assure Lord Martins that his place in your favor was
secure. I went so far as to tell him you were with fever tonight. Perhaps that
would work with the ton also… “
    “You did what?” Lily gasped in surprise. She clenched
her fists in an attempt to ease her trembling. Anger heated her insides to a
slow boil.
    “Silence! I’m doing this for your own good.”
    Her own good… humph. Why would her father go to so much
trouble with Martins? Surely he didn’t seriously expect her to align herself
with such a man. His standing in the ton was tenuous at best. She’d respect her
father’s wishes for now, until she had time to speak with her Aunt Margaret,
Duchess of Dreyer. She’d be able to talk some sense into her father.
    There was no reason to continue this conversation, what
he said was