If there was anything good to be said about marrying a drunkard, it was that mornings foretold relative freedom, as Lord Blackwood was still abed by ten o'clock. Lily took breakfast and tea and explored the house a while, poking her head in various rooms to ascertain the layout. Even for a London house, the Blackwoods' home was practically palatial. It boasted a grand dining room, two sitting rooms, a music room, a library, a billiards hall, servants' quarters, enough bedrooms to comfortably sleep twenty, and then there were the gardens! Lily's childhood home was magnificent, but not like this. Blackwood Hall bordered on ostentatious, even for fashionable English aristocrats.
After stumbling upon the billiards room, which was clearly meant for gentlemen only and boasted bawdy paintings and erotic sculptures and a staggering supply of liquor in its full-size bar, Lily felt faint. She could not comprehend that her destiny had brought her to this. She would do anything for Rosie, but how could Fate be so cruel! Lord Blackwood was, in all respects, a completely repulsive man. Lily was no prude, but the paintings in the billiards room depicted acts far worse than what Blackwood had done to her last night. Lily could forgive him his physical shortcomings, his bad habits, even his rudeness, if he were at least somewhat kind or had a modicum of respect, but the more she learned about him, the less and less she liked him. He was base, mean, disrespectful, crass, an all round wretched human being with no redeeming qualities. It was daunting, to say the least, to contemplate spending the rest of her days with this monstrous man, who might one day do worse than leaver her with a couple bruises and an ache between the legs, and before she knew what she was doing, Lily was running (or walking as quickly as her corset would allow) down the hall and to the library, where she burst through the door and out into the courtyard.
It was late autumn, so the air was crisp, but clean and refreshing. There was a light drizzle, but nothing serious enough to make Lily go back inside that horrible house to fetch a coat. The garden was peaceful, and the rain on her face helped Lily regain some of her composure. She wandered the courtyard for a while, imagining Rosie everywhere she looked, drawing strength from thinking of her child. Would Rosie like gardening? Would she like to make chains of daisies? Or would she eschew the garden and prefer to stay indoors and read?
God give me strength of spirit, she thought, because Lily caught herself wandering toward the stables, thinking of how difficult or easy it might be to run away from this place. Would the drunk louse even notice that one of his horses was missing? Would he even notice that Lily was missing before he wanted to slake his lust with her body? She walked closer and closer, almost hypnotically, envisioning herself whisking Rosie away to the country where they might eke out a living as dirt farmers... surely that would be preferable to submitting herself to the horrendous Blackwood and his wretched son! But she could not bear the thought of Rosie going hungry again, no, Lily knew that this was the best she could do for her daughter, as awful a fate as it might seem.
Run away or no, Lily knew that a ride would help clear her head, so she entered the stable to take a look around and get acquainted with the horses. However, the first sight that greeted her was not a horse to clear her head but a bare-chested Will Blackwood to further muddy it! Lily gasped, and her hand flew to her lips, and she felt her knees grow soft and that ticklish warmth between her legs again. Her other hand pressed itself against her corseted belly. Unlike his father, young Master Blackwood was slim and trim, with a bit of muscle on his body from participating in the occasional, fashionable sporting match, hunting or boxing or the like. Lily wondered what it was like to be held in those long, sturdy-looking arms, she wondered what it was like to writhe in those arms in the throes of pleasure, like Minnie did last night, and she was rooted to the spot, staring at Will and breathing hard.
“Has your excessively tight corset finally cut off the air to your brain?” he laughed, hanging a brush on a nail nearby and patting his horse's rump. “Or perhaps you are stricken with memories from last night. Tell me, did you enjoy the show, my little voyeuse?”
“Show?” Lily gasped stupidly, “Oh God in heaven-- you... you knew I was watching.” For some reason this thought both scandalized and aroused Lily something awful, and the conflicting feelings overwhelmed her. The faintness returned and her knees began to buckle, but Will stepped forward and caught her, hugging her gently but firmly against his bare skin, which Lily now saw was smudged here and there with dirt and bore a fine sheen of sweat. He smelled of a pleasantly heady aroma, a mixture of a healthy young man's sweat and also of tobacco and cologne. Her sex warmed to his touch and set her to trembling, but-- she told herself-- she hated Will and he was probably just mocking her. Embarrassed, Lily pulled away from him and smoothed her skirts with great dignity. “I don't need your help, Will Blackwood,” she sniffed.
“No indeed. Not yet,” he chuckled, “surely you were only pretending to faint to test my resolve. But I wonder...” He came close to her again and cupped her cheek, and Lily was pliant when he turned her face toward him. She gazed up at his face, enraptured, stricken stupid by his handsomeness. “Mightn't you need help in dealing with my father? I am convinced he is the devil incarnate, and you, a delicate angel...” He leaned down and planted a chaste, but lingering kiss on Lily's lips. “I should hate to see my new mother suffer,” he said softly.
It was a rare moment of earnestness from Will, and Lily didn't know what to do with it. Reminded of the situation, that was to be Will's stepmother, Lily yanked herself away from him with a huff. “You cad!” she growled, “You-- you skirt-chasing-- tosspot!” Will had been preparing to go out for a ride, and his horse was already tacked and saddled, so Lily brushed past him and mounted the beast herself. “As your new mother, I say you had best learn some manners, and stop victimizing the house staff, or I-- I'll tell your father!”
“Tell father? He'll only be jealous that he's getting my seconds,” Will laughed.
Disgusted, Lily galloped out of the barn with cheeks aflame and an aggravating undertow of desire in her heart.