Lilly Blossoms (Lessons in Submission Book 3) (18 page)

Lilly was puzzled when her papa stood before the garden row and said, "I've begun teaching you some lessons, now it is your turn."

"My turn?"

He ran a finger down her cheek and his smile had her breaking out in goose bumps. His voice was low as he said, "I'll spend the rest of my life teaching you all sorts of things. I have been blessed with my own Lilly but I know absolutely nothing about gardening. Will you teach me?"

She could feel her face flush and her body respond instantly with the memory of his teaching. Nodding, she knelt in the dirt and was surprised when he knelt in the flowerbed not far from her. "You are going to get your clothes dirty."

"I don't care. Clothes can be washed," he said, and caused her to pause in pulling on her gloves when he added, "and there are lovely big bathtubs that can hold both a little gardener and her papa." Remembering her earlier thought of how it would be to have him bathing her, she swallowed hard. The ache he'd ignited and left unfulfilled earlier was growing and she could feel her face growing hot. He kissed both her flushed cheeks and chuckled. "Show me what to do, little one."

She gave him some simple instructions and they began to work side by side.

"No, Papa, that's not a weed," she said, "that's a shoot."

Releasing the small green growth, Phillip shook his head. "How on earth can you tell? They all look the same to me."

She giggled and laid the weed she'd properly identified and pulled from the earth on the pile between them. "Promise not to laugh?" At his nod, she said, "I know it sounds silly but I sometimes I think the plants talk to me." She gave a little squeak when he reached over and dragged her to sit on his lap.

"Of course they do," he said, loving it when she looked up at him and her eyes shone. He tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear and then bent to kiss her cheek. "You have a gift, little one. A gift to see fairies where others see bees, a gift to see beautiful bushes where others see sticks, a gift to kiss a seed or a plant when you tuck it into the ground that makes it want to grow so it can see you again. I can easily hear every plant speaking to you because they know that at your hands they are loved and nurtured." This time when he bent forward, her hand came up to lie against his cheek and there was a sheen of tears—tears of happiness—in the depths of her eyes.

"I love them almost as much as I love you, Papa."

The couple sat in the dirt amongst the rose bushes, dirt on their faces and clothes and yet it was perfect. Bees buzzed and a butterfly flitted from flower to flower but the two were unaware as they kissed. It was several minutes before another weed was pulled and Phillip had to admit that he wasn't doing his share. He was leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him, just watching as she worked. He could sit for the rest of his life just watching her. When she bent forward to reach for a weed a distance away and the fabric of her dress stretched across her bottom, he amended his thoughts—watching was definitely not all he would be doing.

"Lilly?"

"Hmmm?"

"Let's get married."

She turned her head back, her nose crinkled. "I thought we were…"

He sat up. "No, I mean let's get married now."

"Now?" She sat back on her heels.

"Well, not this minute but as soon as I get the license."

"You… you aren't going to make me go to school?"

"Not unless you want to."

"No, I'd rather have you teach me whatever I need to learn, Papa."

"I'd like nothing more but you do realize that if you were a student here, you'd graduate fairly soon, but, little one, it will take a lifetime of classes in my school."

Lilly felt her heart pounding with the promise. He was offering her the world whereas she had nothing to offer but herself, and finally understood that was enough.

"So you'll be my headmaster?"

"I'll be your husband, your headmaster, and your papa," he said, his dimple deepening as he smiled. "And, just so that you understand, all three of me will be making sure you are not only happy, but will warm your bottom when you are naughty."

Arousal flooded through her at the look in his eyes. "Hmmm, perhaps we should negotiate?"

His growl made her giggle. "Papas are not known to enter negotiations with their little ones, young lady."

"This one time, they should," she said, as she dropped to her hands and knees and began to crawl towards him, stretching out her arms and attempting to slink like a feline.

"Oh good Lord, you are going to tell me that horrid cat is coming with us?"

"Mr. Tom is not horrid." She giggled when his eyebrow lifted. "He is just a bit frightened. With love and care, he'll be a wonderful pet." When he still looked dubious, she added, "I couldn't possibly move away to attend your classes, Professor Carrington, and leave poor Mr. Tom all alone. But I suppose we can wait to wed until the end of his lifetime. Of course, that might be a really long time… remember, cats have nine lives." She almost giggled at his exaggerated groan.

"You are one tough little negotiator, Miss Lancaster. I suppose adopting one scrawny cat is a small price to pay to have you become Lady Carrington. I promise Mr. Tom can come if you promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Remove your curse."

"Curse?"

"Yes, I've woken with a crick in my neck every morning for the past week from sleeping in that damned carriage."

She did laugh then. "We can't have that, can we Papa? I remove the curse and wish nothing more than to have you waking up beside me every day for the rest of our lives."

He stood and lifted her, twirling her around in a circle before crushing her mouth with his.

* * *

The next afternoon, they were again in the garden. They were not alone but Phillip had eyes only for one person—his bride as she walked towards him. She wore a dress of the softest pink shade and was carrying a bouquet of flowers from the gardens that surrounded them. When she met his eyes, the love shining from them made his heart skip a beat. She was the most beautiful bride in the world.

He'd wasted no time the day before. After speaking with Eleanor, he and Lilly had gone to visit his friend, Jacob Deardon, a judge who didn't blink an eye when the request was made to purchase a special license to wed. He was pleased when asked to perform the ceremony and promised that he and his own child-bride would be more than happy to attend.

The only bit of trouble he'd had was convincing Lilly that she would be a good girl and accept everything that he was buying her as they went from shop to shop. When she balked at yet another dress, he'd excused themselves and returned to the carriage.

"You've already bought me enough…"

"Our negotiations ended yesterday, young lady," he'd interrupted, pulling her not onto his lap but over it. "Little girls do not question their papas. I suggest you get used to being spoiled, because, my naughty girl, I'm going to spend the rest of my life doing so. I will buy you many dresses and if needed, I will be doing this..." He paused to pull her dress and petticoat up onto her back. "You'll have new, lacy drawers to cover this sweet bottom." Pausing again, he soon had her current bloomers at her knees. "And, just to drive the lesson home…" He finished his statement with a crisp swat on her newly bared bottom.

She'd squealed but after a half-dozen swats that were meant to instruct, not to punish, she turned her head back and said, "I really did like the pink dress, Papa."

He'd lifted her up, given her a kiss, and they'd returned to the store, both sets of her cheeks a pretty pink and yet the tension in her body had fled. They ate their last picnic in her little house and he'd promised that they would continue to have tea-parties. When it was getting dark, she snuggled into him and said, "You don't have to sleep in the carriage, Papa."

"Just one last time, little one," he said. He was both sorry and pleased to see the look of disappointment on her face but he had no intention of making her fully his until his ring was on her finger.

This morning, it had taken less than ten minutes to pack her belongings into the carriage. It had taken almost an hour and a quick trip by James to the market to convince Mr. Tom that the only way he was going to be able to enjoy the newly purchased fish was to actually go into the box. Phillip had warned Lilly that even though they were taking the cat to his new home, he might not wish to stay.

"I know, Papa," she said, having to speak a bit louder to be heard over the yowling coming from the box. "But, at least I will know I gave him a chance."

Phillip had left her at Eleanor's and had to be shooed away in order that she and her girls could help get the bride ready. By the time he returned, he had a scratch on his hand but would be able to tell his bride that Mr. Tom was safely in the stables and that though he had feared the cat would bolt upon release from his temporary cell, Mr. Tom had only seen fit to bat at the hand that set him free before looking around, walking to the newest pile of hay and settling down for a nap.

Now, as she reached him, he held out his hand and she slipped hers into it. They said their vows standing beneath the oak tree where they'd first met, and they both smiled when an acorn dropped to bounce off the Bible that Judge Deardon held in his hands.

Phillip promised to love, honor and cherish her for the rest of her life, knowing he'd rather die than to ever see her harmed. When she vowed to love, honor and obey, he knew he'd been given the most incredible gift that a man could receive.

They sealed their vows with a kiss that had girls giggling and his best man, Douglas, chuckling. After reluctantly releasing the new Lady Carrington to be hugged, kissed, and congratulated by the women who had not only accepted her but considered her a friend, Phillip heard Douglas grumble, "You've got to tell me how in the hell you managed to get to the altar weeks ahead of me. That has to be one of the shortest engagements in history."

"Why, Douglas, haven't you ever tried the art of negotiation?" At his childhood friend's snort of disbelief, Phillip just laughed and went to reclaim his bride.

Mrs. Yardley had prepared a dinner fit for a king and his princess, complete with a beautiful cake to celebrate their wedding. After toasts were made and every crumb consumed, it was finally time for him to take his bride home.

* * *

Lilly gasped as the carriage pulled into the drive leading to his—their home. "It's beautiful," she said, leaning forward to get a better view.

"It will be even more beautiful with you here," Phillip said. "Of course, it's too late to give you a complete tour, but I promise that soon I'll take you over the house and grounds."

"Tomorrow?"

His laugh and the look in his eyes had her tummy fluttering. "No, little one, I don't expect to see much more than one suite of rooms for the next few days."

He helped her from the carriage after James had opened the door. "Welcome home, Lady Lancaster."

"It's just Lilly," she said, giving him a smile.

Phillip lifted her into his arms to carry her across the threshold for the first time. His staff were gathered in the foyer, all with smiles on their faces. To the one, they all welcomed her and though she knew she should be nervous, she wasn't. Being in her papa's arms, she knew she'd be just fine.

When he began to climb the stairs, she giggled. "I can walk, Papa."

"Not tonight," he said, dropping a kiss to her head.

She laid her head against his shoulder as he continued to ascend the curving staircase. If you'd asked her what color the carpets were, or how many rooms they passed, or about the paintings hanging on the walls, she'd not been able to answer. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in the faint scent of peppermint, a soft smile curving her lips.

He finally set her on her feet once they'd crossed the threshold of his bedchambers. The room was huge. Two forest green leather chairs sat before a fireplace on one side but Lilly didn't feel afraid. She smiled to see Miss Bushy sitting against a needlepoint pillow, her new doll sitting next to her. There were small tables, two large armoires, a pretty woven rug on the floor, but she barely acknowledged them as her eyes went to one of the large windows. Three little pots were lined up in the center of the ledge and she felt her heart fill.

Her attention was drawn to the large four-poster bed that dominated the other side of the room. There were pillows piled at the head, a thick counterpane of navy blue making her think of her papa's eyes. She began to quiver, not from nerves, but from the power of the love she felt for this man. The quilt she'd slept under, alone, for years was laid across the end of the bed. He'd placed her things in this room to help make her feel at home.

She looked up at the man who was now her everything and when he brushed his thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away the tears, he said, "Don't be scared. I've got you."

"I know. I'll never be scared again. I love you with all my heart, please… please make me yours now…"

"Now and forever," he said.

She stood as he she felt him pulling the weight of her hair, moving it over her shoulders, and lifting a few strands to run them through his fingers.