Then Came You Read Free

in his agitation, he couldn’t help noticing that something about No. 38 Grosvenor made a man feel extraordinarily comfortable. Perhaps it had something to do with the color schemes. Most women had their walls done in the fashionable pastel colors cool blue, icy pink, or yellow, ornamented with white friezes and columns. Uncomfortable little gilt chairs with slick cushions were the mode, those and sofas with dainty legs that looked incapable of bearing any real weight. But Lily’s terrace was decorated in rich, warm colors, with solid furniture that invited a man to put his feet up. The walls were covered with hunting scenes, engravings, and a few tasteful portraits. There were frequent gatherings of writers, eccentrics, dandies, and politicians at her home, although Lily’s liquor supply was undependable sometimes abundant, sometimes perplexingly sparse.
    Apparently Lily was amply stocked this month, for one of the housemaids brought Zachary a decanter of good brandy and a glass on a silver tray. She also offered him a copy of the Times, ironed flat and stitched down the seam, and a plate of sweetened biscuits. Enjoying a feeling of well-being, Zachary asked for a pot of tea and relaxed with the paper. As he finished the last of the biscuits, Burton opened the door.
    “Has she arrived?” Zachary asked eagerly, jumping to his feet.
    Burton regarded him implacably. “Miss Lawson will see you upstairs. If you will allow me to show you the way, Lord Stamford…”
    Zachary followed him up the curving staircase, with its intricately turned balusters and highly polished banister. He entered the sitting room, where a lively blaze cast its light from a small marble fireplace, and illuminated the green, bronze, and blue silk wall hangings. After a minute or two, Lily appeared at the doorway that connected to her bedchamber.
    “Zachary!” she exclaimed, rushing forward and seizing his hands. Zachary smiled as he bent to brush her soft cheek with a perfunctory kiss. His smile froze as he realized that she was dad in a robe, her bare feet peeking out from beneath the floor-length hem. It was a circumspect robe, heavy and thick, the neck trimmed in swansdown, but it was still a garment in the category of “unmentionable.” He stepped back in a startled reflex, but not before he noticed that her hair was drying in spiky clumps, and she smelled rather…peculiar.
    In spite of that, Lily was still strikingly beautiful. Her eyes were as dark as the center of a sunflower, shadowed by a thick sweep of lashes. Her skin had a pale, polished glow, and the line of her throat was delicate and pure. When she smiled as she did now, her lips had a singularly sweet curve, as if she were an angelic little girl. Her innocent appearance was deceptive. Zachary had seen her trade the subtlest of insults with rarefied dandies, then shout vulgarities at a pickpocket who had attempted to rob her.
    “Lily?” he asked tentatively, and he couldn’t help wrinkling his nose as he got another whiff.
    She laughed at his expression and waved at the air in front of her. “I would have bathed first, but you said your concern was urgent. Pardon me for reeking of eau de poisson the Thames was rather fishy today.” At his uncomprehending stare, she added, “My hat was blown into the river by a gust of wind.”
    ‘‘While you were still wearing it?” Zachary asked in confusion.
    Lily grinned. “Not precisely. But let’s not talk about it I’d rather hear about the matter that brought you to town.”
    He gestured to her attire, or rather her lack of it, uncomfortably. “Shouldn’t you like to dress first?”
    Lily gave him a fond smile. There were some things about Zachary that would never change. His soft brown eyes, his sensitive face, the neatly groomed hair, all of it reminded her of a little boy dressed for church. “Oh, don’t blush and carry on. I’m perfectly well covered. I wouldn’t have expected such modesty of you, Zachary. After all,