Page 16 of Not a Chance in Hell (The Chances #6)

April 15, 1840

I t was not difficult to carefully step through the back door of his Bath townhouse.

The place was awake. Arthur knew that his servants rose early, but he had not realized there would be quite so many in here.

Cook raised an eyebrow. “Interesting night, m’lord?”

Arthur grinned, his limbs weary. He was desperate to see Lilianna again as soon as he could. “ Very interesting.”

And it had been. Ravishing Lady Lilianna Chance had been unlike anything he could have imagined. The temptation to remain there all morning and show her another few routes to pleasure had been intense, indeed, but the impending arrival of another lady’s maid had sadly made that impossible.

For now.

“But I have a feeling that our marriage is not exactly going to be like everyone else’s.”

Arthur gave a happy sigh as he stepped along the servants’ corridor and emerged into the wide hallway.

Well, he was engaged, which was a bizarre thought. The Arthur of a year ago—hell, two months ago—would not have credited it. Yet here he was, promised to a woman who made him feel…

Feel as though he could conquer the world if asked. As though nothing would be too difficult if it put a smile on her face. As though the rest of his life was going to be a great deal more interesting than he had expected.

So. That meant preparations needed to be made.

Though his bed cried out for him, tiredness tugging at the corners of his eyes, Arthur made instead for his study. There he could rattle off a few letters to the relevant people and start getting this wedding underway.

The sooner, the better.

The study was just as he’d left it. Strange. To think that when he had departed this house only yesterday, he had not known, could not have known, in what state he would return.

A state of bliss.

Arthur sat heavily on the chair behind his desk and leaned back, a grin on his face.

“I’ll never be able to sit down at this breakfast table again without thinking of you.”

He’d made love before. No, that wasn’t quite right—he had bedded women before. The mechanics were not unknown to him, and he’d certainly found completion with other women. But he hadn’t found what he’d discovered with Lilianna. That had been new.

A connection—a meeting of minds and bodies and souls. A surrender, a need to give her everything, to delay his own gratification totally if it meant she was given everything that she wanted.

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance in hell that you’ll let me leave tonight?”

“No.”

Arthur swallowed, trying to prevent himself going hard. That would hardly be useful.

Letters, that was what he was here for. Letters, then he could go upstairs and collapse into bed, drifting into dreams of his Lilianna…

He had almost completed the first letter, to his banker—jewels, he needed jewels—when the door opened.

“My lord,” said Haslehaw serenely. “You have returned.”

Arthur grinned as he glanced up. “I have, indeed.”

“And?” the servant asked delicately.

Well, he deserved to know that he would be welcoming a new mistress, didn’t he? But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a bit of fun.

“I don’t know what you mean, Haslehaw,” Arthur said with wide, innocent eyes.

Perhaps not innocent enough. “Really? I was under the impression that you departed yesterday to offer your undying affection to Lady Lilianna Chance, with the hope she would reciprocate.” His butler cleared his throat delicately. “I hope that you carried out your plan and did not lose your nerve, my lord.”

Arthur was able to resist rising to his own defense, but only just. “In fact, Haslehaw, I did not. I did barely sleep last night, however. I was… otherwise occupied.”

He grinned. Well, what did he care if his servants knew? Lilianna was going to be his wife, and they were going to engage in a great deal more amorous congress between now and then. After she was his countess, he would be able to sleep in the bed beside her, wake up every morning to find her there, the woman he loved…

Someone cleared their throat. Arthur jumped.

Haslehaw’s eyebrow was raised. “A successful evening, then, my lord?”

“ Very successful,” Arthur replied, privately thinking it was a very good thing he had returned home this morning. There could be an element of openness in his own household, true, but perhaps he was being rash, considering it being broadcasted further. Ah, and now he came to think about it… “Have a hamper of Cook’s finest treats sent over to the Aylesbury townhouse, will you?”

That surprised him, as the man blinked perceptibly. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”

“Cook’s best pies, dishes, puddings, that sort of thing.” Arthur waved a hand in the air by way of explanation. “You know. The very best.”

“I rather thought you would wish to have Cook focus on tonight’s dinner.”

“No, make the treats and send them to Lilianna—to Lady Lilianna Chance as soon as possible,” he said firmly. “Each and every day for the next, oh, say week?”

How long was it that people have scarlet fever for, anyway?

“And I believe we will need to sit down and plan a wedding,” Arthur said with relish.

At last his butler looked pleased. “Ah, you have gained the approbation of her father then, my lord.”

Damnation, he had completely forgotten about that. “All in good time,” Arthur said aloud, making a mental note to write to the marquess post-haste. “I will need your assistance in ensuring the plans are enacted promptly.”

“You wish to marry before the autumn, my lord?”

Arthur snorted. “Before the month is out, man!”

Haslehaw’s second eyebrow now rose to join its pair. “I do not believe you will have sufficient time to plan such an affair.”

“Well, as soon as possible,” Arthur said, waving away his servant’s probably very reasonable objections. “I want Lilianna in this house, established as its mistress, as quick as we can.”

“And breeding.”

Arthur blinked. Surely, he had misheard that. His butler could not have said…

“That is, after all, the reason why you are marrying in the first place, is it not, my lord?” Haslehaw said delicately. “To breed? To have heirs, for your title?”

Arthur’s lips parted in astonishment.

Because the man was right. At least, he had been right. That was where this had all begun, had it not? Him needing an heir, not minding too much who was willing to give him one.

And now here he was, absolutely besotted with one woman. Hell, if they never had children, what would it matter? He had her.

“Preparations for a wedding, Haslehaw,” Arthur said firmly. “Go on. Be off with you. And mind your tongue around your future mistress, yes?”

Haslehaw’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. The door closed behind the servant, leaving his master to sit in silence and think. Think of the delight he felt whenever he was with her. Think of her beauty, her kindness, the way she snorted when she believed he was being ridiculous.

A foolish grin creased his lips. Oh, to be her husband—it was more than he could have dreamed. Part of him wished he had remained with her. Part of him wished she had come here, unable to stay away.

She could slip in through a side door , Arthur thought dreamily. Wander along a corridor, hoping no footman saw her, then arrive at my study with that knowing smile—

The door was thrown open—but it was not the woman he wanted to see who walked through it.

Instead, it was a beauty with sharp edges to her face, red ringlets falling out of place from the messy pile of hair atop her head, her scarlet dress somehow both ostentatious and a little worn-down—and a little too big.

Arthur groaned. “Look, Celeste, you can’t just come in here.”

“I have never been forbidden entrance to your study before,” said Celeste with a slow grin, stepping seductively into the room and closing the door. “As I recall, you and I have shared many a moment in this room. On that chaise. On that desk. Your brother never suspected.”

He couldn’t deny it. I’ll have to get rid of most of this furniture , Arthur thought ruefully, before Lilianna becomes my wife. He could hardly take her on the same desk that he had taken his mistress, after all.

Even if it was an antique desk with brass fittings.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur sighed, leaning back in his chair.

It was going to be an awkward conversation, and there was no point in avoiding it any longer. Plainly, the letter he had sent to her had been misplaced. Or misunderstood. Or misconstrued.

Celeste smiled and Arthur felt… nothing.

Nothing at all. It was a bit of a relief, Arthur’s shoulders sagging as the tension sparked yet could not find a hold.

He was free of her, free of all the other women he had bedded and moved on from. It was Lilianna he wanted, and the affection he felt for her was far greater than anything he had ever felt for—

“You are not listening, Taernsby.”

Arthur blinked. Was she talking? “Look, what we had—it’s over.”

She meandered over to his desk now, her fingers placed on its edge as she beheld him. “I don’t understand.”

Her willful misunderstanding aside, Arthur thought he had been very clear—and very patient. “You do, Celeste, you just don’t want to.”

“We were so good together, Taernsby,” she purred, leaning forward and giving him an eyeful of her—

Arthur looked away hurriedly, though he was reassured by the complete lack of stirring in his loins. Damn, Lilianna really was the only woman for him now. It was astonishing, really, that he was so untouched by Celeste’s charms.

A year ago, even three months ago, he would have already stripped off his shirt and would have her bent over the desk.

And now… now all he wanted to do was get back to his letter. To keep making plans for his marriage to Lady Lilianna Chance.

And ask Haslehaw to order him a new desk.

“Look, Celeste—”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” she murmured, her gaze flickering over his form.

His body stiffened. “Like what? All I said was your name.” He shook his head, his eyes closing. “Look, you have to understand that this is over. Has been for months. When I told you last October that we would not see each other again—”

“You miss me, though, don’t you?”

Arthur hesitated, but only to search within himself, and he found… nothing. No desire for her, no interest, not even a passing fancy that he could take this opportunity, private as they were here in his study, to take a final taste of a woman he had bedded a not inconsiderable number of times.

No, everything within him cried out for one woman, and she was not here.

“I am in love with another,” Arthur said simply, his eyes locking on to hers.

Her nostrils flared. “You can’t be! You’re a Nelson. You don’t fall in love!”

“And yet I have, and quite without the expectation of doing so,” he said, smiling at the memory of that incorrigible woman.

“You’re Lilianna Chance. And you’re mine.”

“I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it,” Celeste said softly. “I know you, Taernsby, and you aren’t the sort to fall in love.”

She was leaning even closer now in a most possessive way, and Arthur was certain that sort of thing would encourage many a man to lean forward in turn and taste those lips. But not him. Not anymore.

“I love another,” he repeated softly.

There was a glitter of malevolence in Celeste’ eyes. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

And suddenly, she had lunged forward, closing the gap between them and her lips were on his and Arthur recoiled, but she followed him, climbing onto the desk and it was wrong, it wasn’t Lilianna and he tried to wrench his head away—

As the study door opened.

“Arthur, my new maid won’t be coming until tomorrow and I—” Lilianna stood, hand on the doorframe, eyes wide, pain visible in her expression.

Arthur was not breathing. He could not breathe.

Celeste giggled, propping herself up on the desk and wiggling her hips. “I didn’t know you wanted someone to join us, Taernsby.”

“It’s not—I wasn’t—” Speak, man, speak!

But the damage had already been done.

“I can’t… I can’t believe you would—”

“Lilianna, it’s not—”

“I trusted you!”

The pain in her voice was visceral, scraping over Arthur’s skin like a blade. It cut, sharp and true, and he could almost feel the agony in his own body.

“Who’s this, Taernsby?” Celeste grinned. “This is the next one, is it?”

For a brief moment, a mere heartbeat, Arthur closed his eyes in horror. This was going from bad to worse and worst of all, there did not appear to be anything he could do to stop it. To stop her.

“Get out, woman.”

Celeste arched an eyebrow. “I only said—”

“And I said, get out !” Arthur barked, rage subsiding in his lungs as his hoarse words flew about the study.

Lilianna was still there, thank God, looking at him through crestfallen eyes. He could explain, couldn’t he? It would be easy enough to get Lilianna to understand, once he had explained—once he had promised her that nothing, save a kiss he had not wanted, had occurred.

“It sounds to me like you two have a great deal to discuss,” said Celeste delicately with a grin Arthur hated. “Why don’t I give you two a little time alone to talk this through?”

Her smug attitude was displayed in her walk. Arthur had never seen a woman walk like that, as though she’d achieved something truly great. As though no one had ever done something so clever, so impressive.

As Celeste approached the doorway, Lilianna stood her ground, forcing the other woman to step clumsily around her. It gave Arthur hope, hope he dared not even consider in case it fled, that this was all going to be resolved.

Celeste disappeared from sight. Lilianna stepped forward into the study. She closed the door behind her.

Arthur finally coerced his lungs to work. “Dear God, Lilianna, I thought there for a minute—”

“I should have known.”

He blinked. “‘Known’?”

Lilianna was leaning against the door as though she could not get far enough from him and remain in the same room. “Yes, known. I should have known all of this, this joy, this—this happiness I felt…”

Felt. Past tense.

Arthur’s stomach lurched. “She means nothing to me. You must believe me!”

“Will you speak that way of me?” Lilianna whispered.

He didn’t understand. She wasn’t making any sense.

“When you grow tired of me, and you can happily throw me out of your study, will you speak of me that way?” she said quietly. “Like I was nothing. Like what we shared, what we had was nothing.”

“It isn’t like that. Lilianna, she’s just—”

“Just a woman you bedded, and now can’t seem to give up,” she finished for him.

Incorrectly , thought Arthur through a haze of panic and anger. What, she would just assume the very worst of him the moment that she saw him? Did she not wish to hear his side, to know what the truth of the matter was?

“Celeste is— was my mistress, yes, but that has been over for months now,” Arthur said, trying to bring some rationality back to the conversation.

Lilianna flinched. “‘Celeste’?”

Why did that matter? Arthur nodded, hoping to move on. “You have to believe me. She—”

“She was the one who wrote to you.”

Arthur stared, uncomprehending, trying to understand her words. Wrote to him? Plenty of people wrote to him. How was he supposed to remember—

And then the memory returned. A letter stuffed in his pocket. A moment to read it before Lilianna—but she had arrived early, hadn’t she? Grabbed the letter from his hand. Seen some of its words.

Evidently, she had seen the signature at the end of the letter.

He rose hurriedly, chair pushed out behind him, as though that would give greater credence to his words. “Lilianna, she wrote me a letter. I cannot stop—”

“Kissing her, it seems,” said Lilianna in a brittle voice he had never heard from her lips before. “Oh, Arthur, what were you thinking? When you and I had an appointment to meet here?”

“It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t hiding—”

It was the wrong thing to say. As panicked words attempted to rise up inside him and better explain, Lilianna just shook her head with a dull look in her eyes.

“You weren’t hiding it, I see. It was just myself who did not know. Your whole household knows.”

“Lil!”

“Do not call me that,” she said sharply. “I am Lil to those I trust.”

This could not have been happening—it was a nightmare, a bad dream. Perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk, the evening’s activities—for want of a better word—entirely exhausting him. Because he could not be standing here by his desk seeing Lilianna examine him like… like she did not know him. Like she had never known him. Like it would take a miracle for her to trust him again.

Arthur took a deep breath. There had to be a way out of this. There always was. “Celeste wanted to resume our old—our old connection, and I said no .”

“By kissing her,” Lilianna said coldly.

“Damnit, she kissed me !”

“And you let her, Arthur. You let her! I walked in here and saw the two of you together!”

“What you saw wasn’t—”

“I swear to God, Arthur, if you try to tell me that I did not see what I saw, then I am going to get very angry indeed.”

And she sounded it. She also sounded like the cold, icy, distant Lilianna he had first met. Before his eyes, Arthur watched the wholehearted woman he had grown to know disappear, frozen in the sight of him kissing another woman.

It was all going horribly wrong and yet he did not know what to do.

“How can I prove it to you?” Arthur said desperately, stepping around the desk and advancing toward her.

And halting. There was something so intensely unwelcoming in her expression that no man could have progressed farther.

“You can’t,” she said simply.

His breath stuttered. “But I must be able to…”

“No,” Lilianna said sharply, red now tinging her cheeks. “No, you can’t just have it all your own way, Arthur! You can’t just shout down or out-argue me merely because you wish it!”

Arthur hadn’t realized just how desperately he was panting, but he did now. His hands were heaving, a tingling sensation aching in his fingertips, and it was all going wrong. It was falling apart before his eyes: his perfect life, his future with Lilianna.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

She was speaking in a low, quiet voice, as though almost to herself. “I should have known I could not trust you, you were and are a rake.”

“People change,” Arthur said, taking a step forward.

The look she gave him would have quelled an army. “Not you,” Lilianna said quietly. “There was not chance in hell you could truly change.”

“But I love you!” he said desperately.

It was not enough. He could see it in her eyes, the way she held herself, the scrabble of her fingers on the door handle.

“Really?” Lilianna said softly. “I would hate to see how you treat those you say you despise, my lord.”

“Lilianna!”

And she was gone. The door had opened and she had slipped through it before Arthur could reach her. Wrenching it open, he caught just the merest glimpse of her before she turned the corner of the corridor. She must have been running to reach it so quickly.

Running away from him.

Arthur slumped against the doorframe, his mind whirling. He needed to go after her, but what was there to say that he had not already said? He had told her Celeste had kissed him, that he’d wanted nothing to do with her, that he loved her , Lilianna… and still, she did not trust him. Still she would rather walk away, run away, than listen.

A giggle reached his ears and his pulse leapt, just for a moment, before he saw…

“I suppose it’s just you and me, then,” Celeste said archly, stepping out from behind a curtain in the hallway. “Poor Taernsby, you look sad. Perhaps I can help cheer you up?”

“Haslehaw!” Arthur roared.

With the unerring skill of a servant who had butlered for a good many years, the butler appeared immediately. “You yelled, my lord?”

“Take this woman and throw her out onto the street,” Arthur said bitterly. “And make it clear to her, and all the footmen, that she is never to be permitted entrance again.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “But—”

“Did you think this was a jest, Celeste?” Arthur hissed, pouring all his frustration out onto the woman before him. “Get out of my sight.”

She disappeared from his house with a great deal of shouting and complaining, but Arthur heeded her not. He was too busy stepping into his study, closing the door, and slumping onto the chaise.

“I would hate to see how you treat those you say you despise, my lord.”

Arthur dropped his head into his hands. Now what was he supposed to do?