Free Dair Devil by Lucinda Brant Page A

lace border of her chemise. He caressed a fold of the delicate lace between the tips of thumb and forefinger, itching to fondle much more… Finally, he lifted her chin with his forefinger, and brought his gaze back up to her face.
    “You know what I want, Delight. You don’t kiss a man the way you kissed me without expectation of a result. Well, this is your lucky day. I’m going to give you what you want.”
    Rory blinked. It was her turn to experience turmoil. Her mind throbbed with the competing emotions of joy and dread. Joy because she saw that he desired her. She might be ignorant but she was no simpleton. The handsomest man in London found her desirable. No one had looked at her like that, ever. He certainly had never known of her existence before today, despite her attendance at the Roxton Easter Ball less than a month ago. But joy was quickly swallowed by dread, the dread of what he was about to propose. One kiss and he presumed to know what she wanted? Men were such immediate creatures!
    She did not want to hear what he had to offer and shifted away, to brush down her petticoats, to get her gown and herself in some sort of order before she was discovered, as was inevitable. Her sister-in-law had stopped verbally abusing the captain, and he was now addressing his men. The dancers had quieted, too. A thump close by made her jump. There was footfall on the stage. The chaise longue was set upright. For the first time since they had landed in the ditch, Consulata Baccelli was heard complaining in her own tongue.
    Yet, before Rory could take a peek to see what was going on, Dair pulled her into his arms and kissed her swiftly on the mouth.
    “What is it about you that compels me? I must be mad! No matter. It is done. Whatever you want. House. Carriage. Clothes. Give me a week to arrange it. ’Till then go to Banks house in Chelsea. It shares a wall with the Physic Garden. Lil—Lily Banks. She’ll take you in until I come for you, no questions asked. Just mention my name. Repeat the directions so I know you won’t forget. Say them!”
    “Banks House in Chelsea. The house shares a wall with the Physic Garden. Lily Banks will look after me, no questions asked. Who’s Lily?”
    “A friend—a very good friend.” He grinned. “Mother of my son.”
    All the blood drained from Rory’s face. She was in shock. Though why this was so, she had no idea. It was not as if she were unaware the Major kept a mistress and had spawned illegitimate offspring. The habits of noblemen and their mistresses were readily talked about in every drawing room. She had even been present at a discussion between two long-suffering wives of peers conferring on the care and nurturing of their husbands’ children by various mistresses, one of the ladies lamenting her husband’s ability to impregnate every woman he set eyes on. Her sister-in-law had whisked her away before she could hear more. Yet, to her, such conversations were just that, conversations like any other. So she had never really given much consideration to what was, for many wives of peers, a fact of life. But to have it baldly stated to her face, and by the man himself! She was not sure what was the greater upset, his lordship in nothing but a breechcloth or having him tell her he had an illegitimate son by a woman named Lily Banks.
    For several seconds she could neither feel nor hear. She watched without seeing as Dair peered over the stage, then ducked down again and said something to her. But she did not hear him. All she could think about was a house in Chelsea, his mistress and their son. What had he offered her? A house? Clothes? A carriage? But what about Lily Banks and the boy? Was Lily Banks being cast aside for her, or was she an addition to his harem? How many other women were there? And children? What would her brother think? Her brother ? Why had Grasby intruded into her troubled thoughts about the Major and his nefarious lifestyle?
    Grasby! She could hear him.