by Lydia Dare
Could she still salvage her reputation? She would have to leave Oliver and return to Essex. Of course, she would refuse Simon's offer of a dowry. No one would want her now, not once word got out about her wanton behavior.
Oliver would be safe with Simon. Despite his lack of interest in providing supervision in the past, he would care for the boy. He would be firm yet loving. And Oliver would have Will as well, someone who was already having a positive effect on him. William had even managed to coerce Oliver into practicing his Latin, which was a miracle in itself.
Lily descended the stairs slowly, listening for sounds of footsteps in the foyer. She was slightly relieved to find no one moving about. But as she turned the corner, she heard voices from the breakfast room.
Simon and Will.
Her task seemed more difficult now that she was here, and her heart pounded ruthlessly. But it had to be done. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to face them. To face Simon.
Lily pressed forward and stepped over the threshold. At once, Simon leapt to his feet. Anguish marred his brow.
"Lily," he said as the air rushed out of him.
Will slowly rose and smiled at her. "I'll leave you two alone."
Lily shook her head. "That's not necessary, Will."
"Oh, I think it is." He winked at her and quickly quit the room.
Lily watched him go and then turned her head back to Simon, only to find him right next to her. How could he possibly have moved so quickly? She took a step away from him, not able to look him directly in the eyes. "Your Grace, I—"
"We're a little past 'Your Grace,' Lily."
Heat infused her cheeks, and she nervously smoothed her skirts. "Your Grace, I have no excuse for my behavior, and I think it best if I leave for Maberley Hall today."
Simon's knuckles brushed against her cheek, sending tendrils of desire straight to her core. The sooner she left, the better. She couldn't trust herself alone with him at all. Who knew what she'd do next?
"I can't let you leave, Lily," his deep voice rumbled over her.
Lily closed her eyes, wishing herself away from him. Wishing this could be easier. "I won't be your mistress, Simon. I can't. It's time for me to leave."
"No," he said, his voice strained. "Not my mistress, Lily. You're going to marry me."
She must have misheard him. Simon Westfield couldn't possibly want to marry her. She would interfere with his lifestyle. Wasn't that what he'd said?
Slowly, Lily opened her eyes. His penetrating grey gaze bored into her. His brow was furrowed. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Whatever was going on, Simon was the furthest thing from happy. "Marry you?" she asked.
He nodded. Once.
A feeling of dread settled in her belly, and Lily shook her head. "Why would you ask me such a thing?"
"It's necessary."
"Necessary?"
Again, he nodded.
"Why?"
He quietly watched her, and, for the longest time, Lily thought he wouldn't speak at all. Did he really not want to lose her? Her heart expanded at the thought.
"We don't have a choice." Simon's voice interrupted her thoughts, dashing her hopes.
Unsure what to say to that, Lily blinked at him.
Simon shook his head. "If you don't marry me, Lily, you're as good as ruined."
"I am ruined," she reminded him with a whisper.
Simon closed the distance between them and tipped her chin back, forcing her to look at him. "Lily love, you are far from ruined. Last night I gave you pleasure; I didn't take your innocence."
She wasn't quite sure what the difference was. She felt the furthest thing from innocent.
"Will has a connection to the Archbishop. He'll leave for Lambeth Palace this morning to acquire a special license, and we'll be married in three days time."
Lily shook out of his hold. "Why don't we have a choice?"
Simon raked a hand through his black hair. "Damn it, Lily! I thought this would make you happy. You were prepared to settle for Emory Hawthorne or one of the other dolts from last night."
Not really. Not that she could tell him how much he'd hurt her with his offer. "That was different."
He glared at her. Lily had never expected to receive an offer of marriage from anyone. She didn't have lands, connections, or money to offer a prospective husband. If she had ever let the stray thought enter her mind, Simon's proposal was far from what dreams were made of. There were no declarations of love, no looks of adoration, nor promises for a happy future.
She was already a poor relation. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a loveless marriage. She'd seen that with Daniel and Emma, and had no desire to live in one herself. Not that there wasn't love on her side; there was. But Simon obviously didn't return the sentiment, and she didn't think she could face a lifetime with him, knowing he never really wanted her. That she was an obligation.
If her heart wasn't already broken, this would certainly have done the job.
"Look," Simon began gruffly, "I wish it could be different, Lily. Really, I do. You're better off without me, but there isn't a better solution."
She didn't believe that. "Why?" she asked skeptically.
"Because word has gotten out that you've been living here with me."
"But I only came to speak to you about Oliver, as you couldn't be bothered to return a letter."
"It's no matter. You're a young, unmarried woman staying under my roof without a proper chaperone."
"Young?" She snorted. "Heavens, Simon, I'm almost twenty-four. I'm Oliver's spinster aunt. I don't need a chaperone."
One black eyebrow arched. "You are hardly a spinster. Not one man last night thought so."
They hadn't wanted her either. They were after her funds, or Simon's funds, as the case may be. She didn't realize she was crying until Simon brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb.
"Why would you consider marriage to that pack of fools, but not to me?" he asked softly.
Lily's eyes flashed up to him. He was the only man she'd ever wanted in any way, shape, or form. "Because you don't want me."
His arms snaked around her waist, and he pulled her length against his. She could feel his arousal through her skirts, and heat crept up her face.
"Certainly you can feel how much I want you."
"For a tumble, for an arrangement. You don't want to marry me, Simon."
"I never wanted to marry anyone, Lily. If things were different, if I was different, it would be another situation all together, but I am who I am. Somehow we'll find a way to make it work."
"What about your lifestyle?"
He blanched. "We'll find a way to make it work," he repeated.
"Simon—" she began, but he placed his finger on her lips, silencing her.
The intensity of his grey eyes pierced her, and Lily lost her breath. She did want him. He was offering respectability and his name, if not his heart. Perhaps that would come. She prayed it would.
Lily nodded her consent.
***
Simon thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest, right up to the moment she nodded her head. When she finally nodded her acquiescence, he was sure he looked like a besotted fool. Surely she would turn her head and laugh at him any moment. But he couldn't be romantic, could he? He had to let her believe his offer of marriage was simply to protect her reputation. But it was far from that.
Well, it was partly that. He could already imagine the society pages when the scavengers reported that someone had finally shackled the Duke of Blackmoor. He was notorious for his escapades; he'd spent years cultivating his image, after all. He could only imagine how Lily would feel when the gossipmongers began to speculate about an eight-month baby. They might even make wagers in the London clubs about how long it would be before a blessed event would occur. Even though he and Lily hadn't been intimately involved, she would be slaughtered by their poisonous pens.
Simon turned away from Lily and scrubbed a hand across his face.
How best to protect her?
"Is something wrong, Simon?"
"No, no, Lily," he said, suddenly distracted by his wayward thoughts. "Nothing is wrong."
"Simon," she said as she laid her delicate little hand on his chest. "You don't have to marry me." His heart sped up beneath her touch.
"Oh, I do," he murmured, already feeling aroused from her innocent touch.
"I can survive a bit of scandal…" she started.
"There is no need, Lily."
"I can't imagine forcing you into something you don't want to do." She turned away from him. Then she spun back quickly. "Will you hate me?"
"I can't imagine anyone hating you," he said, tipping her chin up with his finger. "And you will make a perfectly beautiful duchess."
"Oh, my, Simon." She smiled. "I almost forgot about that part."
"You will be perfect," he said, looking into the amber depths of her eyes.
"Who will make a beautiful duchess?" Oliver asked as he breezed into the room. He stopped and looked at the pair of them, his stance one of supreme bullheadedness. He stomped like a horse as he walked toward them and plopped into a chair.
"Really, Oliver," Lily said. "Mind your manners."
Oliver had the nerve to smirk at her. "Why?" He looked at her with the utmost disrespect, reminding Simon of a young pup who's just learned he has teeth but hasn't yet learned how to use them to his advantage.
"Because an earl is expected to behave properly." Lily's eyebrows scrunched together.
"Aunt Lily," Oliver said. "My manners are certainly not the only thing that's improper about me. If you only knew…"
"Enough!" Simon barked, worried the boy would reveal too much.
Oliver snapped his mouth shut and sat up straight. That was much better, Simon thought. He really didn't want to take the pup to heel. Not again. Not today.
"So, who is going to be a duchess?" Oliver asked again.
"It appears as though I am," Lily sighed. Simon's eyes sought hers. She sounded as if she had just said "I'll be going to the gallows tomorrow" or "I have three days left to live."
"Well, that was fast," Oliver said. "You met a duke last night? And he has already offered for you? It's that dowry, isn't it? I had a feeling…" he trailed off when Simon shot a look at him.
"No, Oliver," Simon began, adjusting his stance to lean casually against the door frame. If he wanted the boy to be less of a peacock, he might try by setting an example, so he attempted an air of relaxation. "Your Aunt Lily has agreed to marry me." Before he could even attempt a smile at the lad, the boy was up and stomping across the room.
But what tipped his hand was when he grabbed Lily's upper arms and shook her slightly. "Are you daft, Aunt Lily? You simply cannot agree to marry a man like him."
Simon fought the beast to maintain control when he pulled the boy away from Lily. It was difficult but not impossible. He picked the lad up by the scruff of the neck, grasping his shirt tightly, and set him away from Lily.
She already had red marks appearing on her upper arms, and she reached to rub them, a scowl on her face. "What is wrong with you, Oliver?" she demanded.
Simon wanted an answer to that, too. So, he stood between them, waiting for Oliver to speak.
"You don't know what he is," Oliver snarled.
Lily rolled her eyes, a movement Simon found to be quite endearing simply because it was so improper. "I know all about him, Oliver." Simon's heart expanded as she slipped her tiny hand into his. "I have read every scandal sheet, every rumor posted in The Times." She met Simon's eyes. "And there were a lot of them." His heart hurt with that last statement. "But people change."
"Oh, he does change, Aunt Lily. You don't know the half of it," Oliver said, reaching for her again.
"Out, Lily!" Simon ordered before the boy could hurt her. She looked as though she was going to hesitate. "Now," he barked.
Billings appeared in the doorway, as if he'd been summoned. "This way, Miss," Simon thought he heard him say. Though he honestly couldn't hear anything over the roaring in his own ears.
Twenty
Lily refused to take one more step away from the morning room where Simon was behind closed doors with Oliver. She heard a crash and reached for the doorknob, only to have Billings brush her hand away. The old man was surprisingly fast. Sometimes he seemed to appear from nowhere. She assumed that was a trait of a good butler. Unless it kept her from her goals. Then it was a nuisance.
"Miss Rutledge, His Grace will not be happy…" Billings' voice trailed off as he saw the look on her face.
"I am not terribly concerned with anyone's happiness at the moment," Lily snapped. "I am simply concerned about my nephew's safety." Another bump sounded from the room.
Billings cleared his throat, and Lily leveled her iciest glare at him. "You are excused, Billings."
After the butler grudgingly departed from the corridor, Lily frowned at the door. If she went back in, her presence might make matters worse. She'd have to talk to Simon alone once he finished with her nephew. She paced a circle in front of the door until the noise slowed and then stopped. She could just imagine the disarray caused by the altercation. She remembered how easily Simon had flipped the furniture in his study when he was simply playing with her. And wondered what in the world was happening in the breakfast room.
She heard words every now and then like change and unnatural. Then she heard part of a sentence in which Oliver said something about something not being fair to her.
What were they talking about? Lily placed her ear next to the door, straining to hear better.
"Tsk, tsk," Will's voice came from behind her. She nearly jumped out of her slippers at being caught eavesdropping. "Listening at doors, Lily?" he asked.
She stepped away from the door, her cheeks on fire. "I'm worried about Oliver. For some reason, he thinks Simon is unnatural."
Will draped his arm over Lily's shoulders, steering her toward the blue parlor. "Our brother, Benjamin, has the same complaint."
She blinked up at him.
Grinning, Will chucked her chin. "I'm teasing you. Of course, Oliver thinks Simon's unnatural. He's his guardian. I always thought my father was unnatural, too. It's the way of men, Lily dear. Think nothing of it."
Reaching the parlor, Will directed her inside. "Oliver wasn't always this…" She searched for the right word. "…insolent, Will. It's very disconcerting."
They sat together on the settee, and Will squeezed
her hands. "Every boy goes through an adjustment when he starts becoming a man, Lily."
She scrunched up her face. Oliver's changes seemed so… different.
"So, tell me," Will began charmingly. "Are congratulations in order?"
Her betrothal. Lily bit her bottom lip. "You knew. That's why you left."
He winked at her. "Seemed the thing to do. Are you happy?"
Was she happy? Yes and no. "He doesn't want this, Will. I feel terrible this has been forced on him."
"Perhaps it's all for the best. He's been known to be a bit stubborn in the past. He might not ever have made the decision on his own."
"I wish he had," she said softly.
Someone cleared his throat in the doorway, and Lily's eyes flashed to find Billings, looking stoic as usual, standing sentry. "Miss Hawthorne has arrived to see you, Miss Rutledge."
Will tensed beside her, grumbling something unintelligible.
"Oh, do show her in, Billings." As soon as the butler departed, she frowned at Will. "Be nice to her."
"It's not me you need to worry about," Will replied.
"Ah, Lily!" Prisca's cheerful voice came from the doorway, causing Will to stand and bow slightly.
"Prisca."
She barely spared him a glance, focusing her attention on Lily. "You left so suddenly last night. I wanted to make certain you were all right." She crossed the floor and sat in a chintz chair near them.
"Should you really be visiting the home of a bachelor alone, Miss Hawthorne?"
Will asked, irritation in his voice. "Highly dangerous."
Lily's face flushed. Why would he say something like that in light of her predicament? "Will!"
Prisca simply beamed at him. "Don't mind him, Lily. I don't intend to." Then she pierced Lily with her beautiful violet eyes. "Do tell me you're all right. I worried all night."