Sweet Enemy



“You’re awake.”

Penelope? Blinking as her eyes adjusted, Liliana located Pen sitting in a chair near the head of the bed. She noted the set of Pen’s brow, the worried twist of her lips.

“I’ll call the doctor.” Concern colored her cousin’s voice, but not fear. So she’d live, then. “He can give you something more for the pain.”

Liliana glanced around her. The celadon draperies and counterpane told her she was back in her room at Somerton Park. She squinted against the light, bringing her hand up to press at the tender knot near her temple. So that was why she felt so muzzy.

“No, no doctor,” Liliana rasped, taken aback by the rawness of her throat. She wanted only one thing. “Geoffrey.”

Penelope’s mouth drooped and she squinted, as though she knew something she didn’t want to say.

Liliana’s throat closed and her chest tightened as her heart picked up. “Pen?” Liliana didn’t even try to disguise her fear. Geoffrey had been fine, hadn’t he? Had he been hit and she hadn’t noticed because of her own injuries? “What’s wrong?”

Penelope twisted in her chair, taking Liliana’s hand. Pen’s hand seemed overly hot, telling Liliana her own was freezing. “He’s fine, Lily, but he’s been taken into custody.”

“For what? He killed his uncle in self-defense.” She shook her head, shifting to a more seated position. “Surely the local magistr—”

“Not for murder,” Penelope cut in. “And not by the magistrate.”

“Then what?” Liliana asked.

“He was arrested for treason,” Penelope said, squeezing Liliana’s hand.

Oh God. Liliana’s stomach curdled.

“Lord Aveline and some men were waiting for him when he came rushing into the house, carrying you in his arms and shouting for a doctor. They let him settle you in this room, but then they took him away.”

“Aveline?”

Penelope nodded. “Yes. Apparently, Aveline is a government agent with the War Department.”

And somehow he’d found out that Geoffrey had paid off a government official during wartime and had likely assumed the worst. “Oh no, no,” Liliana said, shaking her head as if her denial could make it not so. If Geoffrey were arrested for treason, all that he’d worked for would crumble. He’d lose everything, perhaps even his life. “But he did nothing wrong!” she exclaimed. Not knowingly, anyway. But she knew some wouldn’t see the difference.

“I know nothing more than I’ve told you,” Penelope said. “Mother is closeted with the countess, insisting you be released from your betrothal and—”

Liliana flung the spread off of her, grimacing as she shifted her legs to the side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Pen asked, putting a staying hand on Liliana’s chest.

“I’m going to find Geoffrey.” She shrugged her cousin off. She couldn’t allow this to happen. Surely Aveline and whoever was with him would listen to reason. “I’m going to clear this up.” And if they wouldn’t listen…well, she’d think of something.

She gritted her teeth as she stood. She wobbled a bit and looked down. Beneath her night shift, angry red marks covered by a sheen of ointment marred her legs. While her skin was blistered, she could see nothing life threatening. None of the marks looked as if they’d even leave a scar. It just hurt like the very devil.

She took a tentative step, grateful when she felt no additional pain in her feet. The boys’ boots she’d worn must have protected them from the flames.

She strode straight for the door and down the hallway. Perhaps she was acting a fool, but she couldn’t let this happen. Not that she was certain what she could do to stop it, but Geoffrey shouldn’t stand alone, accused, when he was truly the only honorable player in this sad tale.

“You…you can’t go out in your nightdress,” Pen sputtered, following her.

Liliana stopped. Pen was right, of course, and besides, if she had to depart immediately for London, she would need to be properly attired. She turned around and walked back to the room. “Fine. Choose something suitable for travel, but hurry.”

While Pen selected a conservative blue riding habit, Liliana cleansed the ointment from her legs. She delved into one of her trunks and selected a concoction of her own making—a combination of aloe and lavender oil, amongst other herbs, with a touch of camphor for pain. Relief was nearly immediate, not only from the sting but also from the realization of how fortunate she’d been—the burns were shallow and confined to mainly her outer calves. She took a tincture of willow bark for her headache, as well, since she knew she’d need to be able to think clearly.

She eschewed Pen’s attempts to right her hair and hurriedly dressed, dashing for the staircase the moment the last lace was pulled. Reaching the bottom, she started across the central hall, determined to discover where Geoffrey had been taken and then get there by whatever means necessary.

The butler stood near the closed library doors, facing away from her.

“Where is Lord Stratford?” she demanded.

The man jumped at her barked question, his eyes widening. She imagined she must look a fright with her hair so unkempt and out of breath from her dash, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was seeing Geoffrey and convincing Aveline of his innocence.

“Where have they taken him?”

The butler pursed his lips. “Lords Stratford and Aveline are inside, miss, along with their”—he cleared his throat—“guests,” he said, indicating the library door.

Liliana moved to open the door, but the butler stepped between her and the knob.

“I’m not to allow anyone in,” he said, rather officiously.

Liliana raised herself, looking down her nose as she’d seen her aunt do many times. She lowered her voice and leaned in closer to the man. “You do realize that I am going to be mistress of this house very soon,” she said. Though she still had no intention of entering into a loveless marriage with Geoffrey, she wasn’t above bending the truth in order to get to him. “I daresay the transition will go easier for you if step aside right this moment.”

He blinked. His jaw didn’t drop, but Liliana could see that he held his placid expression with effort. He stared at her, probably debating how much of a threat she truly was. She added a scowl and hoped it was nearly as fierce as the ones Geoffrey had turned on her in the past days.

Without a word, the butler moved away from the door.

Liliana took a deep breath, finger combing hair that felt like straw beneath her hands. She had one last theory to test, and for Geoffrey’s sake, she hoped she was right.

“Just a few more questions, Stratford, and then you can check on your lady love,” the Duke of Wellington said with a chuckle.

Geoffrey brought his gaze back to his guests from where it had strayed toward the door yet again. Only the fact that the doctor had promised to fetch him if there was any change had kept him from Liliana’s side this long, respect for his former commander be damned.

“Yes,” said another white-haired gentleman seated near the fireplace, legs crossed, cravat neatly tied. “We must be absolutely certain that no one outside of this house gets wind of this story, else all we’ve worked for will be for naught.”