“To…?”
She tugged against his restraining arms and stood, despite his audible grumbles. “As I was saying. I know I must let you go as you’re on your way to put an announcement in the papers.”
He stood then, too, his impossible smile from earlier going wild, entirely feral. “I was, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, and I dare you to announce that we’ll wed a month from now, as soon as the banns are read.”
Ah. His smile melted. Did he concede, give her whatever she wished in order to keep her, to make amends? Or did he say no, tell her he needed more time? The two desires warred, and he seemed to be at a crossroads. One fork led to Lillian and the other Frederick’s. A hellish choice.
She tugged at her earlobe, looking unsure, looking as he’d felt earlier, like she wished for a greatcoat to swallow her whole.
What choice?
He forced a smile. “I’ll take your dare and see you a kiss, Lillian Clarke.”
She straightened, coming into startling clarity, her eyes brilliant caramel gems. “You will?”
“Turn around.”
She did, and he used the ribbon to tie her hair back then turned her to face him once more.
“I will,” he said, dropping a kiss to her pink lips. If her lips were to be his future, if he was going to choose her as she’d chosen him, he would take all the spoils, all of her, starting here.
She pulled away, breathless, grinning. “Off you go.” She patted his chest.
He pecked her cheek and made for the door.
“Wait!” She ran after him, her hair streaming loose behind her, the copper ribbon clutched in her hand. When she reached him, she pulled up his hand and tied the ribbon round his wrist. Then she popped up on tiptoe, blushing, and kissed him on the cheek. “Return it to me later.”
“Afraid I won’t come back?”
“Not at all. Just… insurance.”
He took her lips for real, then, plundering, possessing. “You’re mine, Lillian Clarke.”
The sun in the street before her townhouse was hot and bright, and he sweated as he made his way toward the papers. Was that what was done? Did one visit in person? Hell, he had no clue. Arthur would know, though. He situated his steps toward his brother’s club once more.
After that, he’d seek out the patent office. All was not lost. He could have Lillian, Frederick’s, and his independence. He’d already invented the means to become the man he wished to be. All that remained was to make use of it, to brew up a future as free from bitter grounds as the coffee his machine produced.
CHAPTER17
Devon stomped out of yet another government office and only just stopped himself from flinging his arms skyward with a curse. Scotland? They wanted him to hie off to Scotland? He thought it inconvenient when the first office had sent him to a second one, then the second one to another, and so on and so forth through five bloody offices. But Scotland? For a patent! He threw his hands in the air as he marched down the street.
His steps slowed as he approached the Clarke’s townhouse, like he trudged through deep, deep muck. He let himself in and brought the muck with him. Couldn’t stomp or scrape off something inside you, but he tried to as he made his way toward the library. No need to burden Lillian with his foul mood. He’d chosen her, and he would not burden her with his doubts and fears.
He entered the library silently and leaned against the wall, observing.
A mere week remained until they wed, and his qualms about Lillian had disappeared like mist on a sunny day. She sat, writing at a desk before a window in a patch of sunlight, as if the damned thing had created her from its moats and particles. Just looking at her melted his frustration, made the sludge harden, crack, and blow away, leaving him feeling light and new.
She lifted her head, found him watching her, and her cheeks grew rosy red.
“Hello, Lil Bean,” he said, popping off the wall.
She set aside the pen she’d been writing with, rose, and sauntered to him with a pronounced sway of her hips. She wore a pink, frothy confection of a dress that floated about her legs, and Devon wanted to rip it from her body.
“I did not expect you today,” she said.
“I came to see if your father has any words of advice regarding patents.” He’d found himself searching for her instead.
