The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

“They are curious as to why I’ve approached you. They are also staring at you.”

“They are impolite, that’s what they are.”

“You are commanding attention because you are so beautiful.”

She gave him a bright, glorious smile. “Thank you, my lord.” Then she frowned. “Why have you approached me? Your mother is watching us, and I can see your sister peeking from behind the potted plant on the terrace.”

There was an allure to their directness. “May I have the honor of the next dance? I believe another waltz will be announced.”

She went motionless, her mouth frozen in a small O. “I don’t know what to say,” she finally said, sounding perplexed and perhaps thrilled. “This is so unexpected, your lordship.”

“You could say yes.”

A beautiful smile curved her lips, drawing his eyes to the small overbite of her teeth. She was so different from the ladies of society in the room. Oliver knew if any had that small imperfection, they would forever smile with their lips sealed. Excitement brought out the beauty in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “I would be delighted, my lord. It was only yesterday I practiced with Lady Lucinda, so you will forgive me if I accidentally step on your toes.”

Suddenly, he felt like a heel. It had never occurred to him she might not know how

to dance. “I’ll catch you if you stumble.”

She stared up at him, her golden-brown eyes raging with emotion, and a question glowed in the depth of her gaze, one he was unable to answer. It was simply important to him she understood he would be there if she faltered.

He held out his hand, and she came willingly to him. Oliver was almost amused at the shock he could feel rippling through the ballroom. Even those who were also taking to the dance floor sent curious glances their way. Perhaps it would even be mentioned in the gossip columns that Lord Ambrose had danced with his mother’s companion at his ball.

He settled his hand against her waist, and she placed her gloved hand on his shoulder. She felt perfect in his arms. Too perfect. The strains of the violins leaped to life, and Lily flowed beautifully in his arms. She attempted to lead him, and it became clear she had been the dominant partner when she practiced with his sister. He tugged Lily closer, subtly shifting the dynamics so she understood who was in charge of their sensual and elegant waltz across the ballroom floor.

A smile curved over her lips before it bloomed into a wide grin. “This is glorious, Oliver.”

The devil in him urged him to pull her in even closer, and he gave in to the temptation, even knowing the eyes of the ballroom were upon them. Sweet and alluring, her subtle fragrance of lavender stirred him. Her gaze never left him, and for an impossible moment, Oliver felt as if they were in the room alone as he drowned in the beauty of her eyes. Had he ever seen a lady this intelligent and curious, or with such a bewildering mix of innocent and inviting carnality?

It wasn’t his fevered imagination that something wicked lurked in her eyes. Oliver gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. This blasted attraction was unfounded, and he needed to take control of his desires.

While he had admired his father and emulated his dedication to their estates and his acumen in business, there the similarities would end. Oliver would not dally with a worker in his household, who would surely feel pressured to accept any sexual advances he would make. Something his father had never cared to consider as he seduced maid after maid, taking cruel advantage of their situation and humiliating his marchioness. It pained Oliver to acknowledge that some of his father’s unruly desires had taken hold of him, for he dearly wanted to ravish Mrs. Lily Layton with his tongue, fingers, and cock until she was limp from pleasure.

In a desperate bid to center his thoughts on anything but how delectable she appeared, he said, “Have I ever thanked you for all that you do for my mother, Lily?”

A blushed worked its way up her neck. “Your gratitude is not necessary. I am paid.”

“I would like to think it is more than that. My mother genuinely likes you, and I can see you hold similar affections.”

She arched a delicate brow. “Yes, she likes me so much she is firing me.”

He faltered briefly, but caught himself, expertly twirling her past several couples. “I wasn’t aware my mother was letting you go.”

“She believes I should marry, and that I am wasting away as her companion. My replacement will be here at the end of the month.”

His stomach clenched into hard knots at the idea of her marrying, but he brushed it aside. “Ah, to Mr. Crauford. You haven’t told her that you’ve rejected his advances, and he is too proud to mention that he has failed. You have a difficult task ahead of you, persuading my mother you have no wish to wed him or any other man. Her matchmaking fervor is terrible to behold.”

Lily scowled. “I have no wish to marry again, and I daresay the marchioness will have to respect my position.”

“You are still young. I’m sure the vicar wouldn’t have wanted your unhappiness.”

“It would be silly of me to even think of the wishes of a dead man,” she said with a definite twinkle in her eyes. “I…I simply do not think it is for me. I have been married twice.”

Twice? “How old are you?”

She pursed her lips. “Five and twenty.”