“It will matter to you tomorrow. You will be tender and sore enough as it is.”
Her gaze went to the table where the dishes were still in their covers. “We could at least stay long enough to partake of supper. I dislike for all that food to go to waste.”
“The hotel can return it to the kitchens and serve it to their staff. Get dressed, Lily. I am taking you home.”
Finally accepting that she wouldn’t sway him, she flounced off the bed. “Very well. But you cannot take me to the boardinghouse.”
“I certainly am not taking you to Marcus’s. He would have my liver if he knew what we had done tonight.”
“Heath-” she began before he cut her off.
“That is the end of it, Lily. Get dressed.”
Highly miffed, she pulled on her gown and struggled to fasten the hooks while various thoughts spun in her head. The evening had been an abject failure…except that she now was fully a woman and Heath had become her lover for a few magical, enchanting moments.
She couldn’t regret that, Lily reflected with a small, secret smile. Even if he obviously did.
She wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, though. By now Heath should know her well enough to realize she wasn’t the sort of woman to surrender after one little defeat. He would be her lover again. She just needed to determine how to overcome his objections.
Despite her resolve, Lily was actually a little relieved that Heath broke his unyielding silence as his carriage halted on the street near the boardinghouse.
“I intend to call upon you tomorrow afternoon. At one o’clock, if that is convenient.”
She debated refusing, but that would defeat her own purpose. “Very well, one o’clock.”
“Wear a pelisse and your veil. We will be taking a drive.”
“Oh?” Lily asked curiously.
“I have something to show you.”
Heath refused to expound further as he helped her down from his carriage and escorted her to the rear tradesmen’s entrance. Lily felt strangely disappointed when he bid her a terse good night and remained waiting for her to go inside. But it was his unexpected anger that took her aback. That, and the sense that she had gravely disappointed him.
If she hoped she would avoid detection by the household, however, she was soon proved wrong. Just as she was about to mount the rear service stairs, she spied Fanny coming down the corridor toward her. Surprisingly, Basil was directly behind her.
“May I speak to you a moment, Lily?” Fanny called out.
“Yes, of course.”
Basil halted beside Fanny. “I will leave you two ladies to your own devices. If you need me, Fanny, I am at your service.”
“Thank you, Basil,” Fanny replied with a soft smile. “I am glad we had our little coze.”
When he gave her an odd glance in return, it was almost a wince-which puzzled Lily. There were definite undercurrents of tension between Basil and Fanny, yet not the exasperation and irritation they usually roused in each other. Apparently they were no longer at daggers drawn, at least for the moment. And as Basil turned away, heading for the stairs, the look of desire and longing in his eyes was unmistakable.
Musing over the cause, Lily followed her friend to the parlor. The lamps were lit, so she surmised that Basil and Fanny had been making use of this room just now.
“What are you doing here, Fanny?” she asked as they settled into chairs. “I would have expected you to be occupied on a Saturday evening.”
“I came seeking company, but you were not here.” Her tone was almost accusatory.
Lily hesitated, not wanting to confess exactly where she had been. “Could not Fleur and Chantel have sufficed?”
“They are out with Lord Poole, celebrating.”
“Celebrating?” she echoed.
Fanny nodded. “It seems Lord Poole has rekindled his former ardor for Chantel, so he insisted on paying the entire gambling debt of thirty thousand pounds to Mick O’Rourke.”