CHAPTER SIX
Lily was trying not to look at him but, God’s Bones, it was difficult.
Bentley was standing near the entry to the merchant shop that Belladonna and Dashiell had just disappeared into. His big arms were folded across his chest and he stood there, watching the door, or watching people pass by, looking at anything but her.
Lily should have been used to it by now. Three years of hell in a marriage with Clayton, but she’d behaved properly in all that time in spite of being in love with another man. There was nothing clandestine going on, but Lily had to admit that it was mostly Bentley’s doing. He told her on the eve of her marriage to Clayton that he would not carry on with another man’s wife, and Lily had tearfully understood. Three years later, she still understood.
But that didn’t mean she agreed.
Clayton was horrific in bed. Their wedding night had been a painful experience with a callous lover. Every time Clayton touched her, Lily imagined it was Bentley, seeing his strong body over hers, the warmth of his touch against her flesh. Even though they’d been sweet on each other before the advent of Clayton, they had never consummated the relationship. It had nearly killed Lily to surrender her virginity to a man she hardly knew but hated already.
It had nearly killed Bentley to know that what he loved belonged to Clayton.
But they hadn’t really discussed it since that terrible day. Any conversation between them had been polite and distant, because Bentley was very conscious of what others thought and would witness. He didn’t want word getting back to Clayton that his wife was carrying on with a knight. It was certainly more to protect her than to protect him.
But here, there were no prying eyes, at least not like there was at the castle. Lily did so long to speak with Bentley on more than the weather or the fine presentation of a feast. She was a reasonable, moral woman and not given to giddy thoughts of romance but, at the moment, she simply wanted to talk to the man who had meant everything to her, once.
Truth be told, he still did.
As she watched, the dancers in front of the merchant’s stall began to set their sights on Bentley as he stood near the mouth of the stall, waiting. The dark-haired vixens were fixed on him, dragging their silk scarves across his face as he tried to ignore them. Sensing that Bentley might need saving, and not liking that those terrible women were teasing her sweet and noble Bentley, Lily slipped from her palfrey.
“Back, you cats,” she snapped at the women as she walked up. When one of the women hesitated, Lily held up a balled fist. “Did you hear me, you used hole? Get away from him!”
They women scampered. Lily watched them hurry away, pretending not to be embarrassed or afraid of the angry woman who evidently wouldn’t hesitate to beat them. As they resumed their dancing at a distance from Bentley, Lily turned to the man.
“It seemed to me as if you needed someone to chase away the scabs,” she said. “I hope you do not mind.”
Bentley was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. “Mind?” he repeated in disbelief. “Where did you learn such terrible language?”
Lily fought off a grin. “There is much I know these days, Ashbourne,” she said. “I think you would be surprised.”
He shook his head, slowly. “Nay, I would not be surprised at all,” he said. “You are an accomplished woman, Lady le Cairon, even when dealing insults.”
Lily stood there a moment, looking at the dancers as they tried to entice shoppers. Her warm expression faded into a grimace.
“God,” she muttered. “I hate hearing that from your lips.”
Bentley knew that tone of voice with her, soft and sensual, and it was like a dagger to his heart. It was a tone that haunted his dreams, and now he was hearing it again. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to resist it.
“What? That you are accomplished?” He tried to feign ignorance.
But Lily sighed heavily. “Nay,” she muttered. “Lady le Cairon. I have never hated it so much as I do when I hear it from you.”
Bentley felt himself being sucked into something he’d been struggling for three years to avoid. He’d tried; God knew, he’d tried. But he was still in love with Lily as he had always been. There was no use in him trying to deny it, but hearing those words from her lips after all this time was painful.
“Hate it or not, it is your name,” he said quietly.
“Do not ever say it again.”
“What would you have me call you?”
“Lily,” she whispered. “You used to call me Lily.”
Beside her, she could hear him sigh. “You know I cannot do that.”
“Then address me as ‘my lady’. But never again will I hear that… that name come from your lips. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
A silence settled between them, one of pain and longing. Bentley found himself wishing Lily would move away but, in the same breath, he was glad she was standing next to him. He knew it was dangerous to allow himself to entertain feelings he’d tried so hard to forget but, at the moment, he couldn’t help it. The shock of her taking their conversation to a personal level so quickly was something he wasn’t able to adequately combat.
“Tell me something, Bent,” Lily said quietly. “Are you happy?”
“Are you?”
“Nay.”
“Nor am I.”
Lily bit her lip, feeling tears sting her eyes. “It has been a long time since we have discussed your leaving Ramsbury,” she said. “Have you changed your mind about it?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Even if we can never be, you know I cannot leave you,” he muttered. “It would tear me apart to do so. You may, therefore, take comfort in the fact that I will never leave you, not ever.”
Lily was losing the fight against her tears. “I miss you so, Bent.”
“And I miss you.”
“Do you love me still?”
“Still, and always.”
Lily put a hand to her face, quickly wiping at the tears that were falling. “And I love you,” she whispered. “Until I die, Bent. That will never change.”
“I know. But it is still good to hear you say it.”
“And you. Are we truly so foolish to linger on something that can never be?”
“Foolish, nay. But it does make us rather pathetic creatures.”
“I would rather be pathetic in this life knowing I can never have you than live a thousand lifetimes without you.”
It was a difficult thing for him to hear. So difficult, in fact, that he wondered if it wouldn’t be easier for her if he did leave. He had, indeed, considered leaving Ramsbury a few times, but he’d never been able to summon the courage. The truth was that he would rather be near the woman he could never have than try to live without her.
Pathetic, indeed.
“Go inside and see what is keeping your sister,” he said, simply to change the subject away from something that was becoming far too heavy. “Mayhap there is something lovely you would like to purchase as well.”
Lily nodded, doing as she was told, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from her conversation with Bentley. She shouldn’t have brought anything up; they’d been so good at letting the situation lie. All these years, she’d simply let things alone. But today… today, something in her soul needed satisfying. She needed to hear if Bentley still loved her, and he did.
They were feelings most reciprocated.
“Lily!”
Belladonna was calling to her from a corner of the merchant stall, and Lily headed in her sister’s direction. Belladonna was holding up a mustard-yellow piece of fine woolen cloth, holding it up to the light.
“Look,” Belladonna said. “What do you think?”
Lily struggled to turn her thoughts away from Bentley as she fingered the material. “Lovely,” she said. “But it seems heavy.”
“It is,” Belladonna said, handing the entire section of cloth over to the merchant. “It is for Dash. He has agreed to escort me to Jillayne’s party.”
Lily fought off a grin. “Isn’t he embarrassed to be seen with you?”
“I am not.”
Dashiell came up behind them, looking between Lily and Belladonna. “My lady has allowed me to explain what I meant yesterday and has been gracious enough to invite me, once again, to escort her to the party. I have agreed.”
Lily couldn’t help but laugh, but it was a joyful laugh. “Excellent,” she said. “Now I do not have to listen to Bella whine about you any longer. Bella, if you do not understand the next time Dash says something to offend you, do us all a favor and ask him to explain himself before you decide you are angry with him.”
Belladonna twisted her lips wryly. “It was a misunderstanding and nothing more,” she said, wanting to divert the attention from her. “If you are going to purchase something, then hurry. We have more places to visit.”
Lily found herself being ushered around by the merchant to a section of the stall that contained garments that had been cut from cloth and loosely basted. There was a lovely pink garment there, made from damask, and she fingered it longingly. She was an excellent seamstress and she thought that she could alter the dress enough so that, perhaps, she could wear it to Jillayne’s party. Even though Clayton would be her escort, Bentley would be going, too, and she very much wanted to look pretty for him.
Such was the pathetic secret they shared.
But it was of no matter. In little time, the merchant was carefully wrapping purchases from both ladies in burlap, tying them off with twine so they would be easy to carry. Dashiell and Bentley carried out packages from the merchant’s stall and secured them to their saddles. When their saddles would hold no more, the soldiers had their saddles loaded up with packages as well.
The morning of shopping turned into an afternoon of shopping. Belladonna seemed in very good spirits, so Lily knew that she and Dashiell must have settled their differences. She was glad. She also wondered if anything she’d said to Dashiell had made a difference in the end, but she didn’t ask. All that mattered was that Dashiell seemed lighter of heart, and so did Belladonna.
That was all Lily could ask for. Even if she could never truly be happy, she hoped and prayed that Belladonna and Dashiell would be able to find their happiness with one another.
But Belladonna’s shopping hunger gave Lily an excuse to spend a precious afternoon with Bentley, away from Clayton and away from the troubles of Ramsbury. A peaceful, blissful afternoon that meant the world to her. Bentley had reiterated his love for her, and she for him and, for that, Lily was deeply grateful. It gave her the will to soldier on.
Whatever the world brought them, as long as she and Bentley remained strong, she knew that nothing could destroy what they had.
Even if that love was never to be realized.
She was grunting like a pig beneath him.
Every time he thrust into her, she grunted, as if all of the air had been squeezed out of her body.
Gathering her limp body into his arms, Clayton held her by the hair as he rammed his manhood into her, again and again, pumping into her so hard that her teeth rattled. Faster and faster he went, feeling her hot, limp body in his arms, but that was the way he liked it. He didn’t like his women responsive, and this one was the least responsive of the bunch. She was like warm dough, and he was able to mold her.
Acacia’s legs were spread wide as Clayton’s narrow buttocks thrust him into her body over and over. Clayton’s hot, smelly breath filled the space between them as he heaved and gasped, sweat dripping down her neck. Faster and faster he went until he groaned loudly, spilling his seed deep into her body.
Beneath him, Acacia squirmed and he yanked on her hair to stop her from moving.
“Hold still,” he grunted. “Stop moving until I give you permission to do so.”
Beneath Clayton’s heavy body, Acacia couldn’t breathe but she knew better than to complain. On her stomach, she was buried in the mattress as he held on to her tightly as if fearful she would try to get away.
And on top of her, he remained, his body still buried in hers as his seed spread. Acacia had a nasty little secret and it was lying on top of her; this had been her secret for the past year, ever since she’d made the decision to commit herself to Amesbury and Clayton had tried to talk her out of it.
For Clayton, his reasons had been two-fold: when he became the duke, Acacia would make a valuable commodity for an allied marriage. It was also a rebellion against a wife who loved another. To punish Lily, he’d taken up with Acacia, and the plain, quiet sister was easily manipulated. No man had ever told her she was pretty, but Clayton had. Weak as she was, it had taken very little for her to succumb to his will.
Being in Clayton’s arms made her feel wanted and whole, something she’d never had in her life. He’d told her that he didn’t want her to go to Amesbury, that he would find her a fine husband, but first he needed to teach her how to please a man.
Being ignorant, she’d fallen for it. But finding her a husband wasn’t what Clayton had in mind at all. She was only something to bed when Lily was away, something he could dominate and control, only Acacia couldn’t see that. All she knew was that Clayton made her feel needed.
Did she feel guilty that her sister’s husband had become her lover? Nay, she didn’t. Lily had Bentley to occupy her thoughts, and poor Clayton had no one. Acacia had never mentioned Bentley to Clayton, but she was aware that he knew. Everyone at Ramsbury had known of the romance between Lily and Bentley before Clayton had appeared. But Clayton, along with his father, had worked hard to convince the duke that he would be a better husband for Lily and, in the end, he won out over Bentley. Clayton had married a woman in love with another man, and Acacia only felt pity for him.
To her, Lily was the wicked one.
Consequently, she’d been very easy to manipulate. Their affair was a secret. Clayton had told her that it was something they had to keep from Lily. Lily didn’t understand him. In fact, Lily hated him, and only Acacia could comfort him and see to his needs. They couldn’t let their secret be known or it might jeopardize Acacia’s chances of finding a good husband if it became common knowledge that Clayton was teaching her how to please a man. So, controlled by a man who used her as his whore, Acacia kept the secret.
A dirty, nasty little secret.
“Can I move now?” she asked, her mouth muffled by the mattress.
Clayton had been dozing on top of her and was disturbed by her words. He wriggled his hips, feeling his manhood as it grew flaccid, and pushed himself off of Acacia’s long, boney body. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, as Acacia sat up in bed with the intention of dressing. But Clayton stopped her.
“Nay,” he told her. “You’ll not cover yourself up, not yet. Turn and face me. Let me see you.”
Embarrassed that she was naked, Acacia turned so he could get a look at her naked chest. Her breasts were small, the nipples large. Clayton reached up and pinched one, causing her to flinch.
“You missed me while I was away.” It was not a question.
Acacia winced as he pinched her nipple too hard. “There… there was much to do,” she said. “I did not have time to miss anyone.”
Clayton’s expression hardened. “If you did not miss me, then mayhap you had someone else to fill your time,” he said. “One of the soldiers?”
Acacia shook her head, trying to pull away from him but he still had a nipple pinched painfully between his fingers. “Of course not,” she said. “There is no one else.”
Clayton eyed her, finally letting go of her breast. “There will never be anyone else but me,” he said. “Must I remind you of that? I am the only one who knows your needs, and you are the only one who knows mine.”
Acacia wouldn’t look at him. Moments like this always made her feel uncomfortable and confused. Clayton had promised her so many things and he hadn’t followed through on one of them.
“Someday, there will be someone else,” she said, summoning her courage. “You have promised me a husband. My family still believes I am going to Amesbury next month, so now would be the time to announce a betrothal.”
The conversation often followed this path. He hadn’t been around Acacia for a few months, so he wasn’t surprised this subject was coming up again quickly. The woman was pledged to Amesbury and he’d been putting off making any move to secure her a husband. It was so nice to have a woman who bowed to his wishes that he simply didn’t want to think about the eventuality of him actually having to follow through on something he’d told her.
“We will put off Amesbury,” he told her. “You will write to them and tell them that you will not be attending their order next month. Tell them your father is too ill for you to leave.”
Acacia looked at him. “And then what?” she asked. “More of this? I heard you tell Bella that you had a husband in mind for her. You called the man by name. But what about me? You promised me a husband, too.”
“But your family believes you are committing yourself to the abbey.”
“If I have a marital prospect, I will not have to!”
She snapped at him and he didn’t like it. Open-palmed, he smacked her in the face and she gasped, a hand flying to her cheek in surprise. Clayton sat up.
“You will not speak to me like that,” he said. “Your future is in my hands, Acacia. I am trying to make you a fine wife for a future husband, but you are not ready yet. There is still much you need to know.”
Acacia was humiliated, hurt. “Lily came to you pure,” she said. “She did not know anything when it came to pleasing a man. Why must I be taught?”
“Because Lily is useless!” he snapped, lunging out of bed and looking for his breeches. “She came to me useless and cold because she had given herself to another man. To Bentley. Do you not understand? I am trying to mold you so that a future husband will be happy to have you. Do you think I would be so foolish as to pledge you to a friend, to an important man, only to have you embarrass me with your ignorance? You are not a great beauty, woman, so you must have some redeeming talents.”
Unfortunately, that made some sense to Acacia. Lowering her gaze, she thought she understood what he was telling her, unaware that it was more manipulation.
“Then I am sorry to have questioned you,” she said quietly.
“All of this, I am doing for you!”
Acacia nodded submissively. “I understand, Clayton.”
He found his breeches and pulled them on, eyeing her lowered head. With his lust satisfied, he had no more use for her at the moment. In fact, she was only serving to frustrate him.
“Get dressed,” he told her. “Go about your business. Mayhap, I will visit you later, after Lily has gone to sleep.”
“Aye, Clayton.”
Standing up, she quickly found her shift and pulled it over her head as Clayton finished dressing. They were in his private chamber, a room with two entrances – one for him, and one for the servants. When Acacia finished dressing and fled from the servant’s entrance, Clayton was left wondering just how long he could keep this charade going.
He had no feelings for Acacia. But he knew, at some point, something would have to give – either he would have to send her to Amesbury or he would have to find her a husband. As the daughter of a duke, she was valuable, much as Belladonna was. But unlike Belladonna, Acacia was not a virgin. That would have to be made clear to any future husband, greatly diminishing her prospects.
But he couldn’t think about that now. He’d bedded his first woman since his return to Ramsbury. Tonight, providing Lily cooperated, he would bed his second. But just as he finished on that thought, he could feel his lust rise again. He hadn’t had a woman the entire time he was on the battle campaign, and he found that one encounter with Acacia wasn’t enough. He needed her again.
He sent his manservant to find Acacia again and send her back to him. He was so involved in growing excited every time he pulled her hair, making her scream, that he failed to hear the sentries on the wall announcing the return of the party from Marlborough.