Lily (Flower Trilogy) (14 page)

Was he asking her to marry him, or explaining why he couldn’t? “I care not—” she started, but he stopped her by squeezing her hands.

“I’m a second son. I may have the word
Lord
in front of my name, but that’s naught but a courtesy title. I’ll never sit in the House of Lords like your father. I could attend Court if I wished, and London balls, but the fact is, I don’t. Or I haven’t,” he corrected himself. “But I will if you want to, so long as they’re not during term time.”

This
was
a prelude to a proposal. Her breath caught, and she coughed in reaction. “I care not,” she repeated.

“Rand, I—”

“I’m not finished.” He coughed, too, then furrowed his brow, as though he was trying hard to remember everything he wanted to say. “You should know that I earn a nice living. But you should also know that it’s been years since the marquess supplemented my income.”

“The marquess?”

“My father. But like I said, I do well enough.” His gaze swept her gown, and she felt as though he were disrobing her with his eyes. “I expect I can afford to dress you in the lovely manner to which you are accustomed,” he added with a grin.

She smoothed her periwinkle skirts. “I’d wear sackcloth to be with you,” she said quietly. “You just sang of love and laughter. Money cannot buy that. Besides, I do have a marriage portion. Three thousand pounds.”

Three thousand pounds was a more than respectable dowry, considering the average shopkeeper earned less than fifty a year. But Rand didn’t look as though he cared, as though the money mattered not at all. At their feet, Beatrix started hiccuping, and he leaned to pick her up.

“What of your animals?”

’Twas startling to realize she hadn’t considered them, even more startling to see Rand—an avowed dog person—with her cat on his lap.

He absently stroked Beatrix’s striped fur. “I do have a garden,” he started; then a corner of his mouth curved up in a rueful half smile. “Well, I don’t expect your father would consider it a garden, but I’ve a patch of land behind my house. I can ask Kit to toss up a shelter of sorts . . . but it won’t be the grand animal home you’ve been envisioning.”

The fact that he cared about her dreams made tears prick behind her eyes. “It sounds perfect, Rand, enough for the strays I have now. And once I come into my inheritance . . . well, I always envisioned building here at Trentingham, anyway. I can hire local people to care for the animals.” ’Twas what she did when she went to London, and the employment, however temporary, had always been appreciated. “Perhaps I’ll be able to visit—”

“Of course you will. Oxford is not far, and I expect you’ll want to visit your family often.”

“A positive statement,” she observed, risking a tiny smile. “Does that mean you’re finished trying to talk me out of . . .”

She couldn’t say the rest of it. He hadn’t, after all, formally asked her to marry him. And the possibility was so shockingly new to her, she hadn’t yet thought it over. So she let the words hang there, waiting.

It seemed like forever.

“Yes,” he said at last. He squeezed her hands again and leaned near, until his mouth almost touched hers. His eyes were so close she could see flecks of black and steel blue in the gray. His breath teased her lips, making them tingle. “Since apparently I’ve failed to talk you out of it, what do you say, sweetheart? Can we play and sing together for the rest of our lives?”

His words were calm and measured, as though he were proposing a business arrangement.

But his heart was in those amazing eyes.

Unlike Rose, Lily admired Rand’s success in the face of his family’s disapproval. That strength was one of the things she loved about him—through good times and bad, a woman could depend on a man like Rand. But she knew him better than Rose. She knew that beneath the self-sufficiency lurked a hurt little boy who needed someone to hold him.

Did she want to be that someone? Was she willing to do it at the expense of her sister? Could she, for the first time in her life, be selfish enough to put herself first?

She remembered Rose’s behavior in the summerhouse and knew the answer was
yes
.

And she didn’t even have to say it. He read her response in her eyes, and both joy and relief leapt into his.

Then their lips met, and her heart took flight. She’d never thought she could feel such happiness. He was everything she’d wanted, and she hadn’t even known it.

He kissed her over and over, and she wished he would never stop.

A part of her wondered if this was really happening, because it felt like a magical dream. A fantasy come true.

When he finally pulled away, he uneasily eyed the assorted creatures who’d been watching. Appearing startled to find Beatrix on his lap, he set her atop the harpsichord.

“I certainly hope they don’t expect to witness our wedding night,” he said wryly.

She blushed and laughed, then laughed even harder when they both started coughing. Life was wonderful, even with a stuffy nose.

Chrystabel’s eyes sparkled when she heard that Lily and Rand had news for the family. “Since your father is already in the gardens, why don’t you find him and then wait by the twenty-guinea oak? I can gather everyone else in the time it would take me to explain why I want him to come inside.” She hurried off, a wide smile on her face.

It didn’t take long to find Lily’s father, who happened to be weeding a flower bed near the tree, using a hook and a forked stick. Lily decided to let him continue puttering.

She and Rand waited under the oak. “I should have told Rose first,” she suddenly realized, knowing her sister was going to be devastated. A stab of sympathy took her by surprise.

Rand shot a glance to her oblivious father before wrapping an arm around her waist. “Because of your promise?”

“You knew?”

He squeezed, drawing her closer. “Your mother would never forgive you if you told your sister first.”

“True,” Lily murmured, realizing a second truth: She didn’t want to tell Rose first. She didn’t want to deal with her own anger or her sister’s.

“Hey.” He tilted her face up and touched a finger to the dent in her chin. “You’re supposed to be happy right now.”

“I am,” she said and smiled.

Next Rowan hurried out to meet them under the gigantic oak. “Benjamin couldn’t fish,” he said with a pout.

“Mum said you have something to tell us?”

“Yes,” Lily said, “we do.”

“So what is it?”

She tweaked his nose. “You will have to wait for everyone else.”

With a small huff of impatience, he leapt to catch the lowest bough that branched off the huge, twisted trunk.

“’Tis a big tree,” Rand commented, looking like he didn’t quite know what to say to Lily’s little brother. She supposed that living at a university, he hadn’t much experience with eleven-year-old boys.

“Zounds, ’tis bigger than big.” Rowan swung back and forth, looking up at the cloudy sky through the canopy of leaves. “This tree has been here for over three hundred years. And Father says that we must never chop it down, even though it destroys the symmetry of his gardens.”

“Symmetry.” Rand raised a brow. “That’s a big word for a lad your age.”

Hauling his feet up, Rowan crouched on the big branch and began climbing. “I know,” he said proudly, his voice drifting from above. “What does it mean?”

Rand and Lily both laughed.

“What is that?” Father demanded, noticing them at last. Lily laughed even harder, her amusement ending in a volley of coughs.

“It means balanced proportions,” Rand said loudly enough for even her father to hear.

“Ah, symmetry,” Father said. “You know, I’ve been advised to chop down this twenty-guinea oak for the sake of symmetry.”

Amid more laughter, Rand moved closer to Lily’s father so the man could hear him better. Rand was patient with him, she thought. Not many men would be.

Yet another reason to love Rand Nesbitt.

He raised his voice. “Why do you call it the twenty-guinea oak?”

Father smiled, always eager to answer that question, eager to tell the story that Lily had heard countless times.

“A passing timber merchant once offered me ten guineas for the wood, saying ’twas quite the most enormous tree he’d ever seen.”

“Ten guineas, not twenty?”

“I’m getting to that,” Father said. “Well, the truth was, I’d been thinking of chopping the old boy down anyway, seeing as it impairs the symmetry of this garden. But I’m not one to act too rashly, you see, and so I told the merchant I’d like to think about his offer overnight. Next morning, bright and early, the fellow was at my door, increasing his offer to twenty guineas.” Father waved the long, pointed fork. “I figured that if the wood’s value could increase by a hundred percent overnight, the tree was an investment worth keeping.”

Rand laughed out loud, and Father grinned. Lily was glad they seemed to get along. But her smile faded when her mother arrived with Judith and Rose.

The gray sky might be threatening a gentle summer rain, but Rose’s expression looked like thunder.

Fresh sympathy tightened Lily’s sore throat.

Rowan dropped from the tree. “What is it? You can tell us now. Is it something happy?”

It was, for her and Rand. Lily felt like her emotions were riding a seesaw, but she couldn’t help the smile that returned to her face. “Lord Randal has asked me to marry him.”

Suddenly everyone was talking at once.

Chrystabel threw her arms around her. “I knew it! Congratulations, dear.”

“Can Jewel come to the wedding?” Rowan asked.

“No,” their mother said. “Jewel is related to Violet’s husband, not Lily’s.” She kissed both of Lily’s cheeks, then pulled back and winked. “Even though I didn’t arrange the marriage, I wish you every happiness.” Not one to stand on ceremony, she turned into Rand’s arms next. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you,” he said, hugging her back rather awkwardly. Lily gave him credit for trying, knowing her family could be overwhelming.

Rowan tugged on her gown. “Lily?”

She kissed his forehead, laughing when he blushed and pulled away. “Jewel can come,” she told him, “if her parents agree.” She wanted her brother to be happy, too, and after all, it was her wedding. She ought to have a say in the guest list.

Her wedding, she thought in a daze. It still didn’t seem real.

“What’s all this?” Father asked.

Rand cleared his throat and raised his voice. “With your permission, sir, I’d like the honor of wedding your daughter.”

“If you know my daughter well enough to wed her,”

the earl bellowed back, “you know she’s not about to ask my permission. None of my flowers ask me before doing anything.”

“We can all hear, darling,” Chrystabel reminded him.

But he had Lily wrapped in a hug and wasn’t paying attention. When he released her, he turned to shake Rand’s hand.

“Well done,” he yelled, and Lily just smiled and shook her head. If Rand could get through this day with her family, she reckoned he would learn to fit in just fine.

Judith tapped her on the shoulder, her pretty face lit up with a grin. “We’re going to become old married ladies together!”

Lily gave her friend a hard hug, wishing Judith could be as happy about her own wedding. “Let’s get married before we worry about growing old.”

“Yes,” Rose said, “
I’m
the one who is old.”

Finally, having put it off as long as she could, Lily turned to her sister.

Rose’s dark eyes were black with fury. “How could you?” she asked.

How could she
what
? Lily wondered. What did her sister mean by those three words?

How could she break her promise? How could she marry before her older sister? How could she steal a man her sister wanted? How could she be so selfish as to see to her own happiness?

All of it, undoubtedly, Lily thought with a resigned sigh. But while her heart ached for her sister’s pain, and she regretted her part in causing it, she refused to accept the guilt.

Rose had no right to ask for that promise. She’d never had a prayer of winning Rand. Some things were meant to be.

Wanting to explain, Lily took her sister’s arm to draw her aside.

Rose shook her off. “Don’t touch me. You promised.”

She did move away from the others, though, closer to the oak. “How could you?” she repeated.

“Because I love him, and I should never have promised, and I couldn’t believe the way you treated him in the summerhouse—”

“You said you would help,” Rose interrupted through gritted teeth, “and then you told me to do the wrong thing on purpose.” As she talked, she advanced on Lily, backing her into the oak. “I went over to Lakefield every day to try to assist with that translation, but he wouldn’t even hear of it.” Mindful of everyone else, she spoke in a harsh whisper, but her face was right in Lily’s, her eyes flashing fire. “I always knew showing my intelligence was the wrong way to win a man!”

The rough bark bit into Lily’s back, and she hit her head against it, trying to get some distance from Rose’s vehemence. “No, it isn’t,” she protested. “’Tis the right way. Rand was just the wrong man.”

“Oh, I don’t want to talk to you!” With a swish of her skirts, Rose turned and moved away.

Shaking, Lily walked back to the others.

“I think we shall have a picnic tomorrow to celebrate,”

Mum said brightly. “With champagne.”

Rowan made a face. “No champagne.”

“You don’t have to drink any,” Lily said woodenly, rubbing her head where it hurt. She looked up at the sky and wished she felt more like celebrating. “It will probably be raining anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Mum said. “If it rains tonight, it shall be clear and beautiful tomorrow.”

“A picnic sounds very nice.” Rand shot Rose a concerned glance where she still stood near the tree, then moved to wrap an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “Thank you, Lady Trentingham. And I should like to invite your family to Oxford the day after that. Lily should see her new home. I will give you the grand tour, and you can all stay overnight. I’ve no furniture yet in my house, save in the one room I use to sleep, but an inn lies directly behind it.”