My Fair Lily by Meara Platt Page B

surprised her by controlling his anger. He turned to the Bow Street runners. “Take them away.”
    “With pleasure, m’lord,” they replied in unison and promptly did as ordered.
    No one moved until the shop door closed, and then it seemed everyone was moving and speaking at once. Madame de Bressard was going on in an agitated mix of English and French about those horrid people, and how that well-dressed brute wearing an exquisite blue silk foulard (she was in the fashion trade, after all) had struck Lily, and how Lily had been so brave.
    “I wonder how they knew Meggie was here,” Lily mused.
    “Desmond must have bribed someone at Lotheil to keep track of my sister’s whereabouts,” Ewan said. “No doubt my whereabouts as well. Where’s Meggie?” His gaze never left Lily as he made sure she wasn’t hurt worse than she was letting on.
    “She’s in the dressing room. I’ll fetch her.”
    “I’ll go,” Madame de Bressard insisted and hurried off.
    Lily knew that she was the one who should have gone, for Meggie was certainly hiding in a corner, shivering in her undergarments. But her legs suddenly seemed wobbly, and the room began to spin. Ewan’s arms folded around her. “I’m not going to faint,” she assured, though it might have been a lie. She was cold and suddenly shaking. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Just give me a moment.”
    “Take all the time you need, lass.” He ran his thumb across her cheek in a gentle, easy motion. Oh, that felt good! Scary, how good.
    “I could have defended myself,” she began to ramble because she didn’t trust herself at the moment. She wanted to reach up and kiss him on the mouth. His warm, nicely shaped mouth. “I was about to grab a hat pin and press it to his throat. It was the only weapon I could think of. Handy things they are, too. But I wasn’t trying to draw blood or pierce his jugular vein. Do you know where the jugular vein is located? It’s the line that runs right here along the neck.” She was about to reach up and stroke his neck, then thought better of it. She eased out of his arms, not far, just a step or two away, and tilted her head to better expose her skin while she slowly ran her fingers down her own neck. “There. See? If you look closely, you can see it throbbing.”
    He suddenly looked as though he’d stopped breathing. He was doing that a lot around her lately. No doubt the musty London air, which was nowhere near as pure as the clean mountain air he was used to breathing in. His emerald eyes turned hot and dark. “Lily... lass…” His voice was little more than a whispered groan as he dipped his head and— “Ewan! Thank goodness!” Meggie tore out of the dressing room and threw herself into her brother’s arms, her red curls bobbing frantically as she hugged him. “I don’t know what we would have done without you. You saved the day. Oh, Ewan! I hate it here. Not Lily, of course. I adore her. She’s perfect. I want to go home. Scotland is where we belong. Evangeline is right. We don’t fit in here.”
    “Now, Meggie—”
    “No!” Those red curls bobbed again. “You see, Lily. See what I mean? Those people were our cousins. They really do want Ewan dead. They want me dead, too!”
    She began to wail again.
    ***
    “Is she feeling any better?” Lily asked Ewan, rising from her chair in the duke’s library where she had been left to wait for him. After departing Madame de Bressard’s shop, they had climbed into Eloise’s carriage—the one loaned to her and Meggie for their shopping outing— and gone straight to Lotheil Court. The carriage was still waiting outside. She could have used it to return home, but she wanted to stay close at hand until Ewan assured her that Meggie was settled in her bedchamber and moderately calmed down.
    He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “She’s a little better. I’ll take you home now, lass. I ought to have done it first.”
    “No, Meggie