Darling Beast (Maiden Lane #7)(64)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

She turned all the way so she could see his face clearly. There was a small dent between his brows. “They’ve discovered who you are?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not. My uncle suspects, I think, but only that. As for my cousin…” He trailed away, shaking his head. “That I simply don’t know.”

“You need to be careful,” she said, placing her hand on his chest. “Your uncle killed before to prevent you gaining your title. There’s nothing to stop him doing so again.”

“I can take care of myself,” he said, smiling indulgently down at her.

“Don’t be a fool,” she whispered urgently. “No man can withstand a bullet.”

His smile slipped from his face. “You’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “Now tell me why Ross is troubling you.”

She blinked at the sudden assault. “There’s nothing. I—”

“Lily.” He trailed his fingers along her hairline. “I care for you. I would protect you if I can. Please tell me.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it again. In a little while they would part and probably never see each other again. Did she really owe him anything when such was the situation?

But in this time—this stolen time before all that would come next—they were close. If things had been otherwise, she might’ve made this man her husband. Might’ve borne his children, kept his home, slept beside him night after night until they both had white hair.

Perhaps in this in-between time she did owe him the truth.

So she laid her head on his chest and listened to his reassuring heartbeat as she spoke.

“When I was little, living in various theaters with my mother, there was another girl my age. Her name was Kitty and she was my friend. Both her mother and her father were actors and I suppose we grew up together. Kitty had flaming red hair and blue eyes and when she laughed, her nose scrunched up so adorably. Once she was old enough she always played the heroine. She was funny and kind and I loved her. She was very fond of seedcake, I remember. Maude would sometimes smuggle a small cake in for us especial and we would have a tea party behind the stage as my mother and her parents worked in whatever play they were in at the time.”

Apollo stroked her hair, not commenting. She wondered if he had any idea what it was like to have a friend when one was as alone in the midst of many people as she’d been growing up. How very attached one could become to that person.

“When we were both seventeen,” Lily continued, “Kitty met a man—a man outside the theater and far from our world. An aristocrat.” She fingered one of the buttons on Apollo’s shirt, remembering. “He was handsome and rich, but most importantly, it seemed to us, was that he was so terribly taken with her. We were girls, of course, and even though we’d grown up in the theater, we knew very little of life. It never even occurred to me to be worried. I remember Maude making a comment once—that blue blood and common red blood don’t easily mix—but we disregarded her. It was so romantic, you understand. He would come and stand by the backstage door, once even in the rain. He said he loved her and we believed him. How could we not? Isn’t love standing in the rain and showering a girl with flowers and jewels?”

His arms came up to wrap around her as if she were a small child.

“Once…” She swallowed, steadying her voice. “Once I saw a greenish bruise upon her cheek before she covered it with paint and I thought it rather odd—it was such a strange place to be bruised. But Kitty said she bumped into the corner of a door in the dark and I believed her. Believed her without question. I never even thought to question that silly lie.”

Her voice had risen and he brushed her hair back from her face, laying his lips on her temple, still saying nothing.

“She married him, after more than a year of courting, for he was that much infatuated—he actually married an actress despite his family’s opposition and his own lineage.”

Apollo stirred at her words as if to make comment, but she continued before he could.

“I didn’t see her then for nearly a year. She sent letters, writing about how happy she was and how her new husband didn’t like to share her, even with old friends, and I missed her dreadfully, but I was glad that she’d found her true love. She visited after many months and though she walked with a limp I thought nothing of it when she said she’d fallen in the street and twisted her ankle. But her accidents became more common as her visits grew less and less. When I met her, in the second year of her marriage, at a tea shop and saw, despite the paint she’d used, that her eye had actually been blackened…”

He kissed her, high on her temple, and whispered, “What happened?”

“I pleaded with her to leave him, of course. She had friends, many friends, in the theater. I told her we could hide her if need be, find work for her.”

“Did she?”

“No. She wouldn’t hear of leaving him. The maddening thing was despite his monstrous treatment of her, she still loved him. Kitty felt that he’d made a sacrifice for her by marrying her against his family’s wishes, and if he had a horrendous temper, then that was the price she must pay.”

His hand stilled on her hair and he said, very carefully and calmly, “There is never any excuse for a man to hit a woman—any woman—let alone one he professes to love.”

She was quiet a moment, just basking in his gentle strength.

Then she took a breath and continued. “The next time I saw her, she was expecting a child and she was so happy, Apollo. I began to think I’d been wrong. That her husband had realized how sweet Kitty was and had vowed to never hurt her again. That was what she told me, at least, and I wanted—truly—to believe her.”

He’d stiffened when she’d spoken of Kitty’s pregnancy and he made a sound like an exclamation hastily cut off.

“I was so naïve,” she whispered.

“You…” He stopped, his voice shaking. “You weren’t to blame, no matter what happened.”

She just shook her head. If she’d argued more strongly, appealed to Kitty’s instinctive motherly feelings… but she hadn’t.

She hadn’t.

Lily took his hand, squeezing it. “Kitty came to us one night, very late. She woke us—Edwin, Maude, and me—by pounding at the door. Mother had passed by this point, and Edwin was only staying with us in rather cramped rooms because he’d lost all his money at cards. Maude was the one who opened the door. When I heard her scream, I leaped from my bed. Kitty…” She bit her lip, breathing harshly, trying to fight down sobs.