Free Summers, Jordan by Gothic Passions [html] Page B

The man’s
demeanor faltered as he realized the truth in Richard’s words.
    His face hardened. “What do you want from me?”
    Richard’s jaw hurt so badly from clenching it, he
wouldn’t have been surprised to hear teeth crack. “You know what I want.”
    “But why Lily? There are many available women in the
ton, many far younger.” Devlin’s voice sounded like a petulant child being
asked to share a toy.
    “It is not your concern,” Richard bit out. “Just know
she will be well cared for. Now do I have your permission to court and then
offer for her?”
    All but impotent to decline, Devlin’s limbs shook as he
fought his growing rage. “Yes, but Lily has to agree to the match, if she does
not, then you’ll leave us alone— never to return,” he growled in defeat.
Archibald found the nearest chair and sat, holding his head in his hands.
    “You have my word.” He didn’t hesitate.
    Devlin nodded.
    “Good, then it’s settled.” Richard ground out. “The
other half of your debt will be paid once we’re married, if for any reason that
does not transpire the debt will revert back to you—all the debt. I’m sure Luc
and Armand will be happy to discuss the matter further, if need be.”
    Archibald looked up and inclined his head. Richard
glanced at Josephine, who smiled widely.
    “I was afraid I’d have to have Armand and Luc talk some
sense into the man. Luckily you saved me the trouble.” She put her hand on
Richard’s arm, his muscles tensed for a moment and then relaxed. “Can I get you
anything else?”
    Damn it if Devlin hadn’t brought on his thirst for
blood. “An hour with Rose,” he eased out, hiding his fangs. “And then I’ll be
on my way, once I’ve settled half of Lord Devlin’s debts and drawn up a
contract for the rest.”
    Josephine’s brow arched. “She must be quite a girl for
you to go to so much trouble and expense, ma chéri. I certainly hope she is
worth it.”
    Richard slid her a glance and then smiled. “She is.”

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Far away from her dream state, Lily heard a light
rapping. What was that noise? She burrowed deep within the soft linens on her
bed, willing the disturbance to cease. Swaths of rich navy fabric curtained the
frame, keeping the rising sunlight at bay. Some mornings she woke with the
distinct impression that she’d slept in a cocoon. The sound increased in
volume, turning to pounding, as she pulled herself from the depths of slumber.
Lily blinked, her eyes felt as if a bag of sand had been dumped into them.
    She’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling,
trying to figure out what had occurred between Lord Lyon and her father to make
her father hate him so. Everyone about the ton had heard the tale of Lord
William Longfellow. He’d gone from good standing to ruin after his business
dealings had turned sour. Rumor had it Lord Lyon was involved, but it had never
been proven. Surely, her father’s friendship with Lord Longfellow would have
survived such a fall, unless there was more to it than mere friendship.
    Lily knew her father didn’t involve himself with
anything or anyone unless money exchanged hands. The thought brought a sinking
feeling to her stomach. Suddenly all was clear. Her father hated Richard
because he had lost money when Lord Longfellow was ruined.
    She pictured the handsome Lord Lyon. Warmth spread
through Lily as she recalled the drugging allure of Richard’s illicit kiss.
Even now she could almost feel the pressure of his lips as they pressed
coaxingly against her own. The sound came again, this time louder. Lily started
to rise.
    Her maid, Tildy, rushed in, shutting the door behind
her, before Lily could even beckon her in.
    “Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but your father wishes
to speak with you.” Tildy looked over her shoulder as a fist landed hard on the
wood, concern marring her brow. “Immediately,” she squeaked.
    Lily threw the coverlet back and swung her feet to the
floor. The