Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Lily didn't answer, but sat back against her chair and lifted a teacup to her mouth.

The woman had the nerve to continue. "Is it true that His Grace has offered a healthy dowry to any man who marries you, despite your recent behavior?"

Lily nearly choked on her tea. The vicar sighed nervously.

"I beg your pardon?" Lily asked, as she put down her cup and stood up quickly. How dare the woman speak to her that way!

"I imagine that means yes," Mrs. Bostic said, smiling broadly at her husband. Then she snapped her fingers at their son. "Timothy."

The vicar's son gulped and stepped forward, cringing as he looked at his mother. He was a mousy little fellow, his skin so pale it was nearly translucent. His eyes were rimmed in red, as though he'd been sneezing. Or crying. She would have cried, too, if Mrs. Bostic were her mother.

Lily looked down at him; he was at least five inches shorter than she was, and she could see a bald spot appearing on the top of his head. If she remembered correctly, they were close to the same age. At the rate he was losing hair, he would be bald by the age of thirty.

"You may do it now," Mrs. Bostic directed.

The poor fellow dropped to his knee in front of Lily. "M-Miss Rutledge—"

His speech was cut short when Simon strode into the room. "Bostic, off your knees if you want to keep them."

Timothy Bostic scrambled back to his feet. "Y-your Grace?"

Simon turned his irritated grey gaze to the vicar's wife. "Did my dear Miss Rutledge tell you our good news?"

The woman sucked in a breath, her face starting to turn an unflattering red. "N-news?"

Lily bit back a smile. Did Simon make everyone stutter?

"Indeed," Simon replied, crossing the room and sliding his arm around Lily's waist. "I was going to have to pay you a visit later today, Mr. Bostic. But as you're here, you've saved me the trip. This amazing woman has agreed to marry me." He smiled down at her. "Once Lord William returns from Lambeth Palace, I'd like for you to do the honors."

The vicar's eyes grew round. "A special license, Your Grace?"

Simon nodded. "I find she has quite captured my heart, and I'd rather not wait for the banns."

The man stumbled to his feet. "I-I-I… Of course, Your Grace. Whatever you require of me."

Mrs. Bostic squeaked, and Simon flashed his eyes on her. "Did you say something, ma'am?"

"But you were offering her a dowry—"

"True. Miss Rutledge will still have it. I'll put the funds in trust for her."

"I see." The woman frowned.

"Well," the vicar said, rising from his seat. "I believe we will be on our way then. When you have the license, Your Grace, do let me know."

Simon inclined his head.

Once the Bostics left, Lily sighed deeply and rested her head on his chest. She wished the words he'd said to the vicar and his family had been true, that he'd really lost his heart to her. "I had no idea money turned people into such terrible creatures."

Simon chuckled and then dropped a kiss on her brow. "Mrs. Bostic has always been a terrible creature, Lily. I am sorry you had to endure her."

Lily tipped her head back, gazing at his ruggedly handsome face. He did seem happy. More so than he had this morning. "Is Oliver all right?"

He nodded. "The little monster is fine for now. You should have come to me years earlier. I don't know how you ever managed him alone."

For years, Oliver had the sweetest disposition. Something Simon would have known, if he'd ever showed the slightest bit of interest in the boy. How long would his interest last in Oliver, or in her? How long before his lifestyle called to him? What did that even mean? Did he intend to return to the hoards of women he'd left in London? She wasn't certain her heart could take it.

"Lily," he said softly, interrupting her thoughts. "You look so sad."

She forced a smile to her lips. "Just woolgathering."

"About what?" he pressed.

Lily sighed. Should she tell him of her concerns? Would it matter? "I suppose I don't know what to expect from our marriage," she hedged. "What it will entail."

A slow smile lit his face. "Ah, well, let me show you."

Lily batted his hands away from her person as he reached for her. "You know that's not what I meant."

Simon took another step toward her and she backed up, but she couldn't hide the smile that erupted, no matter how hard she tried.

"Oh, but it's what I meant," he said, his grey eyes twinkling. She'd never actually seen the man laugh before. He was handsome even when he was sour, but when he laughed, he completely captured her heart. "You wanted to know what to expect from our marriage, and I want to show you."

He stepped toward her again. She put a chair between them.

"Will every room in my house be left a shambles because of you and Maberley? Before you arrived, I had quite a lovely home," he said as he slid the chair over. Lily ducked behind a second chair.

"You are the one who keeps making messes of the furniture, Simon. Not me," she said, shaking her finger at him. Then she laughed and ran as he casually flipped another chair. They seemed to be nothing more than playthings to him.

"When we're married, you will no longer be able to rearrange the furniture. I won't have it." She tried to look stern and unforgiving. She failed miserably.

He simply smirked at her and pushed the final chair out of the way.

Lily squealed as she turned to run, but his hands snaked around her middle. He pulled her to himself, her back to his front, and leaned forward to say quietly in her ear, "Got you."

Lily couldn't hide from the sudden warmth she felt as his body pressed along the length of hers. One of his hands splayed on her belly, pulling her into the cradle of his hips. The other brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck.

When his lips touched the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, she thought her knees would buckle. Thank goodness for that hand on her belly that held her tightly to him.

"Simon," she sighed. "This is quite improper."

"It's not nearly as improper as what I did to you last night," he reminded her. She felt the heat creep up her face as she remembered his hand in her drawers, his mouth on her breasts, and that sweet, sweet release.

He must have sensed her hesitation because he simply said, "When we're married, I'll be able to kiss you here." He pressed his lips to the skin beneath her ear. "And here." He kissed her shoulder and spun her around.

"And here," he said as his lips hovered over hers.

Oh, please kiss me, Simon

, she wanted to shout. But he didn't. He simply stayed close to her. She finally gave in and reached for him, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him close enough to touch her lips to his.

When she finally allowed him to lift his head, he simply smiled and said, "Forceful little thing, aren't you?"

"I am not little, Simon," she gasped as his hands ran

up her side slowly, moving closer and closer to her breasts. Her heart beat like she'd just run up the stairs.

"Compared to me, you are quite small."

"You're the exception."

"I had damn well better be the exception. There will be no comparisons to other men."

"I have nothing to compare you to."

"And it will stay that way."

Lily nodded, quite unsure of what to say next. She bit her bottom lip.

"What's bothering you?" he asked as he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

"Well, you have mentioned your lifestyle more than once. If you don't plan to share me, then I don't plan to share you, either." She winced and closed her eyes, waiting for callous words to flood her ears.

"Done," he said.

"What about this lifestyle you keep referring to? The one you want to maintain."

"It doesn't involve wenches, woman," he growled softly.