Page 11 of Not a Chance in Hell (The Chances #6)

April 5, 1840

“I think we can safely say,” said Lilianna with a grin, “that we have never attended a worse ball.”

Her cousin giggled as her aunt frowned. “ Really , Lil! You mustn’t say such things.”

“No one can hear us, not this far away from the entranceway and with this much noise,” Lilianna said dismissively, pulling her pelisse tighter around her as her breath blossomed on the air.

It was a very noisy night. The evening was not that late, which may have explained why the streets were so crowded. There were some, like herself, Evelyn, and her aunt, who were retreating home early from an evening that had not entertained. There were others, it appeared, moving from one location to another in the hope of better entertainment there. And then there were those, and Lilianna tried not to stare, whose natural habitat was the night. Their evenings were only just beginning.

As it was, it was difficult for the three of them to push their way through the crowded pavements.

“I told him to wait as close to the door as possible.” Her Aunt Dodo was fretting, twisting her hands together in her elegant, long gloves. “But I can see neither hide nor hair of him!”

“We’ll have to keep walking and see where he’s ended up,” Evelyn said cheerfully. “There’s no help for it. Come on.”

It was a mite irritating, Lilianna had to admit, that her aunt’s coachman hadn’t been able to find somewhere nearby to wait in the carriage. Her shoes were not designed for lengthy meanders, but light dancing in a ballroom, and she had to be careful to avoid the little gift a horse had left behind.

Her cousin slipped her arm through hers. “Anyone interesting tonight, then?”

Lilianna tried to smile. “Not a whit!”

Because he had not been there.

She did not say the latter part aloud, but she could almost see her cousin grinning at the words she had not said. The whole family had not yet let her forget about the Earl of Taernsby and his ridiculous flower obsession.

Not that she had ceased to think of him much. Arthur Nelson, the Earl of Taernsby. He was becoming less and less like an earl and more and more like a man with each encounter.

“I never want to hide anything from you again.”

Lilianna shivered.

“Cold?”

“Yes,” she lied to her cousin.

They halted as Aunt Dodo started speaking to an acquaintance on the pavement, the spring night air just as chilly as it had been in January, to Lilianna’s mind.

She had hoped he would be there. At the ball. It certainly would have livened up an evening in sore need of it. But apparently, their hosts either did not know or did not like the latest incumbent of the Earldom of Taernsby, and he had not been there.

A wasted evening.

Lilianna chided herself silently as she and her cousin meandered a few steps from her aunt. How could it be a wasted evening when she had enjoyed it with Evelyn?

And besides, she still did not entirely know where this ridiculous adventure with Taernsby, for want of a better word, was going. Yes, he had proposed copious times—but a part of her wondered whether he would actually follow through if she ever said yes .

She might give him an apoplexy.

Better that, than lose her heart.

“Mother is taking forever,” muttered Evelyn. “I do apologize. It’s most irritating.”

Lilianna shrugged, though she was in truth a tad frustrated. It was cold, after all, and they still hadn’t found the carriage. “It is of no matter. We could keep going, keeping looking for—oh!”

Hands—hands on her behind!

Lurching forward and dragging her cousin along with her, Lilianna felt her cheeks burn as she turned, startled, to look at the person who had just touched her so inappropriately.

It was a man. His greatcoat was a little worn at the edges, but that could just signify a gentleman who had fallen on hard times. It was happening to the best families.

Not hers, obviously. But others.

“ Excuse me,” Lilianna said brusquely, presuming the man would soon apologize for his mistake.

The man grinned. Well, not exactly grinned. Leered. “Hello.”

A chill flashed through Lilianna and she clutched on to her cousin’s arm with perhaps too much grip.

“Ouch! Lil—”

“Good evening,” she said over her cousin, hoping that the man, whoever he was, would take the words as they had been intended: as a departing word.

But he did not walk away. Instead, he walked forward and Evelyn gasped and stumbled backward, dragging Lilianna with her. They both hit the wall at the same time, and it was only then that Lilianna noticed three things.

Firstly, the street had become uncomfortably quiet. No one was walking along the pavement, no carriages were rattling by.

Secondly, her aunt appeared to be nowhere to be seen. Where on earth was she?

And thirdly, she and Evelyn could not outrun this man.

The last thought turned her blood cold. She had been warned, had she not, about the dangers of men met in pitch-black streets when all alone. It was one of the myriad reasons that her father had always insisted that they did not loiter out of doors in the afternoons in winter, the sun dropping below the horizon at almost three o’clock in the afternoon some days.

“It may seem overly cautious,” her father had said. “But I would rather be overly cautious than overly regretful.”

She had never truly understood what he meant… until now.

The man leered. “What a pretty pair. I hardly know who to start with.”

He licked his lips and lunged. One of his hands grabbed Lilianna’s shoulder and she twisted away, but his other hand clutched at Evelyn’s wrist and she sobbed, trying to pull free but unable to manage it, the man’s grip absolute.

“Run!” Her cousin gasped.

“No,” Lilianna said determinedly, her mind whirling, hardly knowing what she was doing.

Her feet did. Her right one lifted and kicked the man’s knee and he swore, but still, he clung on to Evelyn and Lilianna was hardly going to leave her, but there was no one else on the street and what they would do if he—

“Unhand them, you brigand!”

Storming footfalls, a sense of power, a tall, broad man, a voice Lilianna thought she recognized, but so much fear was pounding through her veins that she could do naught but struggle against the man before them.

But she did not need to. The man was now in a struggle of his own, the incomer wrenching him away from herself and Evelyn, then placing such a punch on the villain’s nose that he squealed as blood poured through his fingers.

“You punched me!”

“I would do a lot worse to you if I thought you were worth the time,” spat Arthur Nelson, Earl of Taernsby. His gaze shifted from the spluttering man to the two women by the wall. “Lilianna, are you unharmed?”

Lilianna’s lips parted, but no words came out. She was staring, unable to take him in.

Yet what a sight he offered. His top hat had been knocked to the ground in the kerfuffle and his greatcoat was unbuttoned, his chest heaving and his hands clenched in fists by his sides.

As though he were restraining himself. As though he were preventing himself from beating the man still moaning and muttering about his nose into a pulp.

It was heady stuff. Lilianna’s mind was spinning, but at the whimper by her side, she was brought back to herself.

“Evelyn?” she said urgently. “Did he hurt you?”

“Lady Evelyn?” Taernsby said quietly.

Instinctively, Lilianna put out a hand, keeping him away. The last thing her cousin needed in this moment was another strange man rushing toward her.

But apparently, Taernsby was more instinctive than she’d thought. He had not made any move to even step toward them, seeming to understand that her cousin would need a moment. Perhaps more than a moment.

Evelyn looked up, her eyes blazing. “Let me at him!”

“No! No, that’s not how we do things, you know that.” Lilianna almost laughed as she was forced to restrain her passionate cousin from beating the man herself.

“How dare he?”

“Evelyn!”

“He deserves to have his lights punched out!” Evelyn rubbed at her wrist. “He hurt me!”

“Yes, yes, but I think his nose is broken, so consider the work done for you,” said Lilianna dryly, glancing up at Taernsby.

He gave her a lopsided grin and her pulse leapt.

Oh, this man . Just when she thought she understood him, he suddenly did something to surprise her.

Not that defending a woman in need was surprising. Any man worth his salt would do so—but the restraint. The evident dislike of violence, ceasing the moment that the man had been incapacitated because he’d wished to check on her and her cousin. That had been Taernsby’s priority. Not vengeance, but protection.

Lilianna swallowed. “Taernsby, I—”

“I turn my back for one moment and you have two men fighting over you!” Aunt Dodo had run along the pavement and now had a hand on her heart. “I don’t know the odds of it happening, surely astronomical—capturing their hearts so quickly!”

It was a complete misread of the situation of course, but as Lilianna glanced at her cousin, she let it be. Evelyn could explain it to her mother in her own time, when they were off the streets.

Which reminded her…

“I found the carriage,” said her aunt, inclining her head at Taernsby but evidently giving him no further thought. “Come along, Evelyn. We can drop you home too, Lil, it’s no trouble.”

“I have already secured that promise, my lady,” said Taernsby smoothly, bowing low to the woman. “Taernsby. The Earl of Taernsby. My cousin, Olive, who is in town—”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard all about you,” said Aunt Dodo eagerly.

Lilianna groaned.

“Is it true that you sent roses and delphiniums?”

“His lordship doesn’t have time for this,” said Lilianna hastily. “He’s very busy.”

“And you agreed to escort my niece home, how very obliging of you,” said Aunt Dodo, meeting Lilianna’s eyes and winking. “Of course, but I can’t allow it. She is my charge for the evening.”

“I understand. Of course, of course.” Taernsby cleared his throat. “My cousin is with me this evening, though. She awaits us in my carriage and will act as chaperone as we escort Lady Lilianna home.”

“Lady Barlow?” Lilianna peered around his shoulder, as if the countess might appear from within the shadows. The cousins had played such tricks before.

Aunt Dodo chewed on her lip, then nodded, as if seeming to make some sort of calculation. She was always making calculations. “That would be acceptable. Of course, the odds of you being on the street at the same time your cousin is within a carriage, just timed so in order to catch sight of my daughter and niece… Then again, far be it for me to step in the way of—”

“Mother, you’re babbling,” said Evelyn swiftly.

Her aunt’s odds, indeed, Lilianna realized with a start. Lady Barlow wasn’t waiting nearby in some carriage.

Nonetheless, Lilianna shot her cousin a look of gratitude before Evelyn stepped away, dragging her mother by the arm. “I’ll send you a note in the morning,” Lilianna promised.

“I intend to sleep all morning,” said Evelyn with a yawn. “Good night, Lil. My lord.”

In just a few moments, they were gone. In a jingle of reins and a clop of hooves, the carriage disappeared around a corner.

And that left her with…

Lilianna looked up into Taernsby’s eyes and knew she was safe. It was a strange sensation. Not that she felt unsafe with other gentlemen. Lord Dalmerlington was a complete petal—a malicious thought had never crossed his mind in his life—and most of her brothers’ other friends were harmless.

But she hadn’t felt safe , as though nothing could touch her now without Taernsby’s consent.

She swallowed. And now he was going to take her home. Alone. In his carriage. He did actually have a carriage, didn’t he, even if he’d lied about his cousin waiting in it?

“My driver is up here,” Taernsby said quietly, as though he could read her mind. He was doing that a lot lately. “Are you certain you are not hurt? That—that brute , I could have torn him limb from limb!”

“I am glad you didn’t. You could have been hurt yourself,” Lilianna said softly.

Taernsby snorted. “Not likely. Come on. You must be exhausted.”

She was. At least, that was surely why her legs were shaking, her strength gone.

“You were not at the ball tonight.”

“No, I was not invited.” He chuckled. “Or rather, I was invited, but the son of the house owes me a small debt from a bit of gambling.”

“‘A small debt’?” Lilianna frowned. “Just how small?”

Taernsby grinned. “Not very small. I did not wish to make a scene, but after dining at my club, I thought… Well. I thought you might have attended and so ventured to pass by. Here we are.”

Fortunately, the Taernsby carriage was only twenty yards along the road. The coachman nodded to his master as Taernsby opened the door and helped her inside.

“And no falling into my arms this time,” he murmured as she took his hand.

Lilianna stifled a smile as she stepped into the welcoming carriage. Was he ever going to be believe her about that moment, that first meeting?

Falling into his arms, indeed…

“Your cousin?” she said, her eyebrows arched.

“I said I would not lie to you. I did not promise to not lie to others—not if it means having even a moment more with you.” Taernsby smirked.

The carriage rocked as he entered, sitting beside her and suddenly making it clear that the space wasn’t actually that large. Lilianna could feel his knee pressed up against hers, his hip locked next to hers, giving her no room to move.

Not that she wished to move away. Not with this heat spreading through her, sparking her in a way only Taernsby could manage.

Lilianna pushed aside the thought hurriedly. He was going to drive her home, and that was it.

Taernsby must have muttered her address to the driver before he’d entered, for when the door snapped shut, the horses were encouraged to move. The carriage began to pull forward, rattling on the cobbles.

And then he broke the silence. “I apologize on that idiot’s behalf. He should have never—the gall of him. It is unforgiveable.”

“You do not have to apologize. It was nothing to do with you,” said Lilianna quietly, folding her hands in her lap. “ You did not… You did not try to—”

“He didn’t, did he?”

His voice was rough, cracked, as though in pain. His features were clear even in the darkness. Her eyes had finally adapted, so long after leaving the ball.

His eyes were raking over her as though carefully looking for any evidence of harm. And this care, this need to keep her safe, settled her nerves in a way nothing else had.

Lilianna reached out and placed a hand on his. “I am fine. I-I promise.”

Taernsby grasped her hand before she could remove it, holding it tightly.

He didn’t make sense. Rake and rogue, defender and devil, this man was more complex than she had ever given him credit for that first night when he had proposed like a madman.

He was so much more… so much more .

“No man should ever touch you,” Taernsby said in a low voice, “without you wanting them to.”

Lilianna tried not to think of the comforting yet challenging hands now encircling one of her own. “It’s why I am… the way I am.”

An eyebrow quirked.

“I know people call me a snob. Arrogant, cold, distant,” Lilianna said as the carriage rattled on. She let out a laugh that was more a release of tension than anything else. “I am not blind and I am certainly not deaf. But it… it keeps people away, the distance. The coldness. The contempt.”

“You are beautiful,” said Taernsby slowly.

His remark seemed so completely divorced from her point that Lilianna could not help but frown.

“I mean, I can understand why so many gentlemen approach you,” he added with a shrug. “I couldn’t stay away.”

“And yet being accosted so continually, the presumption of some men that I would be delighted just to be in the same room as them, breathing the same air…” Lilianna sighed. “It is exhausting. They are exhausting.”

It sounded foolish when she put it like that, but there was no other way to describe it.

“It’s like… they act as though I am indebted to them just for their notice,” she added, trying to better explain. “As though I owe them, as though I should be grateful. And they are more often than not dull and insipid and have no thought for me at all, save how they can possess me.” Her nose wrinkled. “It’s abhorrent.”

“I can see that.”

Lilianna looked up. “You can?”

Taernsby nodded thoughtfully. “It’s interesting. I can—well, not see both sides, but see how it happens. You are beautiful, Lilianna. Beautiful, and charming, and witty—”

“Oh, stop,” she said quietly, hardly knowing where to look.

“—yet if they touch you without your consent?” he continued, his voice hardening. “I hate that. I hate it.”

Lilianna swallowed. There was a vehemence in his voice she had not heard before—at least, other than when he had punched that man in the nose.

“Consent is very attractive,” she said, hardly knowing why she was opening up like this. She had never even spoken about such things with her sister, but here, in the darkness, her hand still clutched by Taernsby… “Yet so is determination.”

He laughed. “So it’s impossible! How is a man supposed to know when he is pursuing a woman who wishes to be caught, and when he is being a nuisance—or worse?”

It was indeed a conundrum. Lilianna had never considered it from that angle, but it was a challenge.

The temptation to do something she almost never did, and flirt, overwhelmed her. Well, she was safe here, wasn’t she? Taernsby was hardly going to do anything to her; she trusted him, perhaps better than any gentleman outside her family. And they were in a carriage. What could he possibly do to her here?

Besides, they must surely almost be to her home.

So, a little light flirtation. Why not?

“Consent and determination must come together, I suppose,” she said through her lashes, a gasp catching in her throat at her own boldness. “Being able to read the person you’re with… Yes, that’s the difference. That’s when you should know whether when they say ‘not a chance in hell’ what they really mean is—is kiss me . Now.”

For a moment, nothing moved.

And then he was kissing her. Lilianna gasped in his mouth, half-shocked that what she had said had gained such a reaction, reveling in the way he pressed her against the carriage seat with complete abandon.

One of his hands in her hair, the other at her waist, Taernsby groaned as Lilianna parted her lips for him and welcomed him in.

Oh, she welcomed him in.

Taernsby trailed a line with his tongue along her lips before plunging into her warm mouth, eking out a tingling pleasure that made Lilianna gasp.

“Taernsby—”

“Arthur,” he moaned, pushing her farther down the seat until she was almost horizontal. “Call me ‘Arthur.’”

Who was she to deny him? How could she, when he was worshipping her so thoroughly?

“Arthur.”

And it was like she had sparked a tinderbox to a flame. His torso was covering hers and the weight of him was welcome, her hands around his neck, grasping his shoulders, pulling him closer.

She wanted him closer, deeper. Lilianna did not have the words, but all this space between them, the layers of clothing—it had to go.

His kiss deepened. Arthur seemed to know precisely what she wanted, his tongue ravaging her mouth, tasting her, and the strength of his ardor inflamed her. Lilianna was so hot, burning under his touch.

Her leg nearest the center of the carriage slipped off the seat, but she hooked it up over his own and Arthur broke the kiss, lowering his head to her neck.

“God, Lilianna, you don’t know what you—you do to me.”

“I have a good guess,” she murmured, quivering as he trailed kisses down her neck toward her décolletage.

There were stars spinning in her eyes as Arthur lifted his head and grinned, the swaying of the carriage continuing under her as her head spun.

“Do you like this?”

Lilianna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

“Consent and determination must come together, I suppose.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he said, his eyes flashing with desire. “Because I want to keep going. You can stop me if you want.”

Lilianna reached for him. “Don’t stop—”

His lips crushed against hers, the strength of his passion twisting an aching heat between her legs. She squirmed, trying to fix the ache, though she knew not how, her body instinctively rubbing against him.

Arthur moaned in her mouth and suddenly, his hand was no longer at her waist, but near her thigh—no, her knee. Somehow, he had found the hem of her skirts and he was doing something. Lilianna could not see what and she could barely think. His lips pressed against a delicate spot beneath her ear as he—

“Arthur…”

She had moaned his name and he did not stop. His fingers fluttered past her knee, rising along her thigh, stroking and caressing, and Lilianna was quivering with the anticipation she knew she should not feel, because he was about to touch her…

Touch her… there .

“I’ve wanted to do this,” Arthur breathed in a jagged voice, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “For so long.”

Lilianna gasped as his fingers halted, twisting under him. “Please—please Arthur, please…”

“Please what?” There was delight in his eyes, a hunger she had never seen before. “Ask for what you want, Lilianna.”

She whimpered, the words alien to her tongue. She had never thought of this, never dreamt of it, but now to miss out merely because she was not brave enough to say, to beg for what she wanted…

“I want—”

“We’re here, m’lord.”

Lilianna’s eyes widened. The carriage was not moving. They had arrived?

Arthur lowered his head to her neck, brushed a solitary kiss against her skin, then swore quietly.

Then he was moving, pulling her up on the seat, shifting her so that she was upright, and Lilianna could have wept, the need in her was so urgent, but it had to be abandoned.

Of all the timing in the world, it had to be like this?

“I thought I had more time,” Arthur said ruefully.

Lilianna tried to smile, and tried not to say, Take me. Take me right now . “H-How do I look?”

He chuckled in the gloom. “As though a very bad gentleman has attempted to have his way with you.”

Her stomach lurched. “Well, then. At least my story will match Evelyn’s.”

Arthur swore again. “I should have punched his lights right out.”

“I know.”

“I would have stopped, if you had asked me to.”

“I know,” said Lilianna quietly as the carriage door opened beside her. She allowed herself to be handed out of the carriage by the footman, who was studiously avoiding her eye.

There was her home, and yet for the first time in her life, she did not want to enter it.

“Lilianna?”

She turned. There was an expression of genuine concern on Arthur’s face. “I never would have… If you had wanted me to stop, I—”

“I know,” she said for a third time, and a little wickedness sparked within her as she spoke before walking into her home. “But I wanted to let you.”