A Certain Wolfish Charm(17)

Finally, after he relaxed to the cadence of her breaths, he slept.



***





Lily blinked. Bright morning light poured in through the windows. She was groggy, the sleeping draught apparently still in her system. She strained to sit up. That's when she noticed him. Simon Westfield slept slumped in a wooden chair, much too small for him, with his legs kicked up on the edge of her bed.



Why had he slept in this room? Certainly there was some place else he could have stayed. Even under the ruse of playing her husband, she hadn't expected him to share her room.



Her movement must have woken him because his head shot up and his eyes flew open. "How are you feeling?" he asked, scratching the dark whiskers along his jaw.



Tired, sore, and… foolish. "Um, fine. You?"



He drew his legs from the edge of her bed and rose from his seat. The frown she'd grown so accustomed to over the last day was once again in place. "Miss Rutledge, er—Lily." He cleared his throat and began to pace around the small room. "I spent half the night thinking about your predicament."



It was about time. Lily smiled at him, relieved he wasn't the beast she'd thought for so long. "I do hope, once you see Oliver, you'll have some idea what to do. I didn't know who else to turn to, and—"



Blackmoor shook his head. "No, no. I'm certain the boy will do fine at Westfield Hall. What I meant to say, Lily, is that I greatly appreciate all you've done for Oliver. Daniel wasn't just my cousin. He was my closest friend. I should have been more involved with his son before now."



An uneasy feeling washed over Lily, and she leaned forward, not wanting to misconstrue what he was saying.



"In any event, I feel I owe you for your time and dedication to the boy. You say you haven't got a dowry, and… Well, I'd be happy to supply you with one. You've certainly earned it—"



Lily leapt off the bed, and he stopped in his tracks. "How dare you?" she fumed, stalking toward him. He was large and intimidating, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. "Emma was my sister, and I've raised that boy. He's like a son to me. You can't take him from me. I won't let you."



Blackmoor stepped backward, surprise in his grey eyes. "If you'll just listen to reason—"



"Do you think I'm looking for compensation? Do you think I've been caring for him in hopes that you'd offer me a dowry? Do you honestly think I can be bought, Your Grace? I love that child, and I wouldn't take one farthing from you."



His face contorted to a dark scowl, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "There are things you don't understand, Miss Rutledge. Things you don't want to understand. Now allow me to help you, and—"



Before she even knew what she was doing, Lily raised her hand, pulled it back, and slapped him across his stubbly cheek. The sound reverberated around the room.
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Oh, the man had a hard head. But he accepted the blow with dignity, as a man of his station would be expected to do. He barely turned his face. But his nostrils moved in and out as he breathed heavily through his nose.



Then he stepped toward her.



She took one step back.



He stepped closer, his eyes dark and brooding.



Lily found herself out of room to maneuver when her legs hit the side of the bed. But she refused to be cowed. Not by this man or any other. She lifted one pointed finger and poked it into his chest. Then poked it again. He didn't take his eyes from her face.



"You will not take him from me. You simply can't," she said as a lone tear escaped and ran down her cheek, her voice cracking despite her intention to show bravery.



"Would that I could leave him with you, Miss Rutledge," he murmured softly, wiping the tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. "I have not set out to hurt you, despite the fact that it's the unfortunate outcome. I wish that I could take it all away."



"By taking Oliver from me?" she asked. "You're taking away my life." She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tried to shake the nearly unmovable man. All she succeeded in doing was tugging his clothing, like a silly child.



The duke took her hands in his, lifted them to his mouth, kissed her bare knuckles, and stepped away from her. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Lily could do no more than drop to the bed, lower her face to her hands, and sob.



***





Simon sank into a seat in the back of the taproom. Thunder rumbled in the distance, matching his mood. When he'd offered Lily a dowry, he'd truly meant to help her. She'd said she was on the shelf because of her lack of a dowry. Though he couldn't imagine any man not wanting her, even if she was penniless. So, he'd offered to do away with that obstacle, making it easier for her to find a husband to love. Someone decent.