My Fair Lily(33)

Ewan ran a hand roughly through his hair. “All? Isn’t it enough?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“It’s all my fault,” Ewan started to say, but George cut him off with a short, rumbling laugh.

“Lily warned me you’d say that, but she claims you had nothing to do with it. She insists you happened to be passing by the dress shop in time to save her and Meggie. She likes your sister, by the way. Says she’s quite delightful, but cries a lot. Not that Lily blames her. She says that she would cry too if her cousins were that odious.” George motioned to several crystal decanters filled with liquids in varying shades of scarlet and amber standing atop an ornate bureau. “Care for a drink? Make yourself comfortable while we talk.”

Comfortable was not possible, for Ewan was still as angry as a wild boar.

“What’s your poison? Whiskey? Sherry? This one’s a delightful Madeira.”

He nodded to the Madeira, though his throat was so parched, he could drain every one of those bottles in a single gulp. Lord, the girl had given him a scare. “Thank you.”

While George raised a glass and poured, Ewan thought about Lily. Not only that his cousin had attacked her, injured her badly enough to make her ill. No, he was thinking about the kiss they’d shared, the sweet caress of her lips against his own, the mere touch rousing such a hot ache in him that he’d almost lost control.

When had he ever been driven mindless by a simple kiss? Never. And the girl was an innocent—her kiss hadn’t even qualified as a real kiss, more of a give-your-aunt-a-peck-on-the-cheek-goodbye sort of kiss. Soft, tentative, closed mouth, yet every damned organ in his body had exploded with the force of a hundred cannons going off at once. All aimed straight at his heart. Their aim, dead on.

Had she not been busy tossing the contents of her stomach into his grandfather’s treasured urn, she would have noticed the wild heat in his eyes and the painful hardness of his rod straining against his trousers.

He was more or less under control now, though he couldn’t be sure how his treacherous body would respond the next time he saw Lily. Great, just great. First the little bluestocking claimed Jasper’s heart, and now she was threatening to claim his.

No, his heart wasn’t at risk.

It sure as hell had better not be. Lily was a Sassenach. He meant to marry a Scottish girl, just as his father had. No English girls for him.

He drained his drink, finished his discussion with Lily’s uncle, and returned to Lotheil Court to look in on Meggie. Fortunately, she was sleeping. He descended the stairs and headed for the library, wondering whether Jergens had taken care of Lily’s... er, little mishap.

Apparently he had.

He must have also reported it to his grandfather, for the old man walked in shortly after him, closed the door, and took a seat behind his enormous writing desk. “Well, Ewan, are you going to tell me what happened?”

“What for? Haven’t your spies told you all you need to know?”

“I want to hear it from you. Is it true? Did Desmond strike that girl?”

Ewan nodded. “She was protecting Meggie. And that girl is called Lily.”

His grandfather dismissed his rebuke. “But you arrived in time to save her. Isn’t that convenient. Who knows what Desmond would have done had you not been there?”

Ewan ignored the dry remark, instead stemming his anger by folding his arms across his chest. He’d known where Meggie was to spend the afternoon and had stopped by to look in on her before meeting with his father’s solicitors. Thank goodness he had. He’d send his apologies and reschedule the solicitors for another day. “Fortunately, we didn’t have to find out.”

“This time. What’s to stop him from succeeding next time?”

“Nothing, other than he knows I’ll kill him if he dares come near Meggie or Lily again.”

“My boy, I think you’re serious.” He cast him an approving nod.

“I am. Deadly serious.”

“Would you have told me about the incident if I hadn’t learned about it from... my other sources?”

“No. Meggie is my concern, not yours.”

The old man gripped the sides of his desk as he rose to face Ewan. “She’s my granddaughter as well as your sister. She’s my concern, too.”

“Granddaughter in name only. She wants nothing to do with you.”

“Is that the way it’s to be? You and me at odds for the next three months? I won’t have it. My blood runs through you, Ewan. We’re family, whether or not you like it. We’re more alike than you’ll ever admit, though you try to hide it in every way possible.”