Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

My dearest Lily,

I can only imagine your reaction when you find this. You will wish you had made good on your threat last night and tied me to the bed. I rather wish it, too.

Dear, darling Lily. Where do I begin?

I have an enemy. Ever since Leo’s death, I have suspected that attack was meant for me. I explained to you yesterday how, as a youth, I became privy to sensitive information at the coffeehouse. Although my attempt to place a wager on that horse race went disastrously wrong, I eventually found other ways to use the information to my material advantage. And if I were ever brought to a reckoning in those cases, neither the law nor the truth would be on my side.

These past six months, I’ve feared someone had discovered my true identity, finally connected Julian Bellamy with the deaf-mute errand boy. I thought this unknown person had tried to silence me permanently that night of the boxing match.

Lily, you must believe how ardently I hoped my suspicions were wrong. For a while, I managed to convince myself that you were right, and Leo’s death was nothing but a random, senseless tragedy. Then yesterday, both my brightest hopes and my worst fears were realized. You blessed me with the news of our child, and within the same hour I received incontrovertible proof that I am a marked man. My life is in danger—and, as long as I remain near you, so is yours.

I cannot risk harm to you or the babe, nor can I live with the specter of fear overshadowing our joy. I ride out this morning with Morland and Ashworth, with plans to confront Leo’s killers and hopes of identifying my enemy. From there, I will do whatever I must to protect you and our child.

Believe this: I will do my damnedest to fix this and come home to you. However, I cannot ignore the possibility that I may not return. If I fail to come back, look for my solicitor to discreetly make contact. There are funds set aside. You will never want for anything.

Lily, by leaving you like this, I break a promise. And thus, I behave in a manner completely unworthy of you. The plain truth of it is, I have always been unworthy of you. You don’t know the half of what I’ve done. But no matter the shame in my past, these weeks with you have been the happiest and proudest of my life. Had we shared only one night together, it would be worth all this and more to have called you “wife” just once and to wear your ring to my grave. I could cover this paper with “I love you”s, and still they wouldn’t be enough.

I love you.

There, kindly read that a thousand times over. Then pause to take tea, and read it a thousand times more. Daily, if you will.

Be faithful to those vows you made last night. You must never doubt my love for you, and no matter what occurs, you must find a way to carry on. The irony is not lost on me, that even as I break my own promises, I’m insisting you must keep yours. Unfair of me, but true to form. I’m a bastard, a scoundrel, and as you’ve said, an unmitigated ass. Even the damned bird knows it’s true. But above all these, I remain

Yours, always,

—J.

“No!” Lily shouted, stepping back from the letter where it lay on her dressing table. “No, no, no! How could you?”

She pressed a hand to the thin lawn of her shift. They’d spent a magical night together. Had she somehow dreamed it all? No. The supper tray was still there, not even yet cleared. He’d made love to her so sweetly, all night through, scarcely allowing her to rest between bouts of passion. She’d thought his exuberant ardor meant he’d finally moved past all his fears and reservations.

But no. It meant he’d been saying good-bye. Making love to her as if last night could be their last night, ever. And now he’d rushed out to meet some unknown danger, leaving her behind to helplessly fret.

Damn him. Damn him. Lily seldom swore, but if ever there was an occasion to merit blasphemy, this was it. He must have been planning this. Hadn’t he said so yesterday in the gallery? The three gentlemen had made plans to go riding.

“Damn you, Julian,” she said aloud. “And damn your noble words. I’ll be damned if you’ll leave me like this.”

She looked to the clock. Already half nine. Damn, damn, damn. Who could say how long he’d been gone?

Her lady’s maid came rushing in, no doubt drawn by the angry shouting.

“I want a traveling habit, and a warm cloak,” Lily told her. “And I want them now. Don’t bother with pressing.”

While the maid was still curtsying her agreement, Lily rushed past her and wrenched open the door, sticking head and shoulders into the corridor. “Swift!” she bellowed, putting her whole body into the effort.

Within moments, the butler’s silver head appeared at the top of the stairs.