The earl’s hazel eyes flicked to his hands and long dark lashes swept his high cheekbones, momentarily hiding his gaze from her. The mad notion that he was here to tell her that Benedict could not marry her popped into her numbed brain. Funny, but she felt nothing in particular about that—except a sense of irritation that Benedict had not come to do the deed himself. All right, then, she was unsuitable. And when had the Spence family reached this astounding conclusion? Certainly since Monday, because Benedict had almost cried with despair when she had begged a reprieve from his call, citing a very bad headache. Well, good God, she had not expected him that day, and she had promised to race Jason. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t responded every other—
“Of course, companionship is not the best of reasons to make a match, but it is very pleasing to have it all the same. I have thought long and hard about this, and I have determined that you are the woman,” Lord Albright said, and looked up, his eyes suddenly piercing hers.
Lilliana blinked. She must have been swooning when he was speaking, because she had no earthly idea what he was talking about. “What woman?” she asked, confused.
“The woman I would have as my wife,” he responded casually.
With a shriek, Lilliana jerked her hand from his.
He quickly lifted his hands. “I know this must come as something of a surprise—”
“A surprise? I beg your pardon, my lord, but is this some sort of joke?” she cried.
“Not in the least, madam!”
“Because if it is, I shall beg you not to jest about something so … so …”
“I am quite serious, Lilliana.”
Stunned, she shot off the settee and stumbled blindly to the pianoforte. This was inconceivable! The man she had admired from almost the beginning of time would suddenly stroll into Blackfield Grange and offer her marriage? For heaven’s sake, what strange dream was this? Something was wrong. Perhaps he had been hit on the head—it happened to Mr. Perry and the poor man didn’t know who he was for a full three days—“Lilliana,” the earl said in a terribly rich, terribly soothing voice as he slowly rose to his feet, “please do not rush to judgment. At least hear me out.” Oh, but he was in luck on that score. She was too overwhelmed to think or move! “I am an extraordinarily busy man. I do not have the luxury of time to call on a lady as a gentleman should, particularly one who resides so far from my affairs. It would have been impossible to have courted you properly.”
“D-did you remember me as a child?” she asked, desperately searching for a reason, something that made sense of his astonishing announcement. “Is it possible you could have remembered me after all these years? Did you care for me then?” she blurted frantically, and whirled around to face him.
He looked almost chagrined. “I will not lie to you. I do not remember you as a child.”
Certainly that did not reassure her. But honestly, how could she even think he would remember her? She had not seen him in fifteen years, and could hardly expect a man of his stature to recall some little girl from the country. “Then … then is it my father? Do you know my father?” she asked breathlessly. “You must,” she said, nodding, trying to convince herself. “You remember Papa fondly, don’t you!”
Lord Albright sighed and slowly shook his head. “I remember him only vaguely.”
He did not know her family? What in God’s name was happening here? “Then … then why? What possible reason could you have to come here and ask … Are you ridiculing me?” she cried.
“Of course not!” he said sternly, and strode across the room to quickly take her hands in his. “I came because I want you as my wife, Lilliana. We would make an excellent match, you and I. I can give you a life of luxury, anything your heart desires.” He spoke softly and earnestly, his eyes peering deeply into her own, and Lilliana wondered if he could see her heart fluttering madly. “I had every intention of calling on you before now, but I began to wonder what possible difference would a few hours of chaperoned courtship make in your decision? Why should we waste that time when we could reach the conclusion, and therefore our marriage, much sooner?”
“But … but you can’t just come in here and offer marriage! We might not suit! Did … did you think of that?” she sputtered hysterically.
“Of course we suit! A few hours sitting on your settee with your parents in this room would not tell me more than I already know. You are of gentle birth, you have been properly schooled, and you have a reputation for a warm and generous spirit and lively character. You are a good match for a man in my position, an excellent companion. What more should I hope to know? No, I am quite determined in this. But perhaps there is something about me that gives you pause?”
Lord God, there was nothing about him that would give her pause! He was right—six minutes, six days, or six years would not alter her opinion of him—she had adored him far too long. But she was not so silly that she could not see how sudden, how incredible this was! He did not know her!
“Lilliana? Have you a concern about my character? Undoubtedly you have heard the rumors that circulate—is that what upsets you?” he asked softly.
If only he knew how she relished the rumors that circulated about him, the tales of adventure, of daring exploration, of defying society’s edicts! She slowly shook her head. He smiled. “Then perhaps you are loath to be a countess?” She practically snorted at that—she was unconventional, but she was not stupid. “Then do you agree that a few hours of courting would not change your conclusion?”
Her heart was hammering wildly now, and she forced herself to take a deep breath before she became apoplectic. She would walk to the ends of the earth to marry a man like him, but that did not make his offer any less insane. Insane! “Yes,” she said meekly, and inwardly winced at her traitorous tongue.
His charming smile deepened, warming her to the tips of her toes. Giving herself a sharp reminder to breathe, Lilliana jerked her hand from his. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but this makes no sense! You could marry any woman! A woman with connections, and … there must be women far more agreeable to you—”
“There are none,” he said resolutely.
“Or beautiful! I am not beautiful, and I know you enjoy the company of—”
“A woman’s beauty is in her character—”
“Ladies who frequent the finest salons of London—”
“They bore me.”
She gulped. His smile seemed to widen, and she realized how very close he was. So close, she could smell the spicy scent of his cologne. Now her heart was beating so wildly that she was quite certain it would break through her chest at any moment. “But … but there is Benedict! He … he, ah, he plans to offer, too, you see,” she stammered.
Impossible, but the man moved as close as he could without crawling into her gown with her. “But he has not, has he?” Before she could answer, he smiled that devastating smile of his again and promptly made her mute. “As I told your father, we are not the first brothers to have settled on the same woman. No matter what you may decide, Benedict and I will sort it out. The choice is yours, Lilliana. A life of luxury as a countess—or, if you prefer, the familiar comfort of Kealing Park, near your family and your home.”
Why did it suddenly sound like a choice between heaven and hell? Lilliana had accepted what she thought was an inevitable match with Benedict, but she had not thought it so terribly ordinary until this very moment. She abruptly turned away and collided with the pianoforte she had forgotten was behind her. A candlestick toppled over onto the wood flooring. “Please forgive me, but I can’t think! This is all so very fantastic! No! So insane! Oh, Lord, it’s insane all right, so sudden, so unexpected—”
“Lilliana,” he murmured, his voice falling over her like a silken drape. “It is sudden because I am quite eager in my desire.” In his what? She could not help herself; she glanced suspiciously at him from the corner of her eye. He leaned forward, his lips almost brushing her cheek. “Quite eager,” he said softly, and his warm b
reath fanned her skin. “Please forgive me for having startled you, but try to understand. You know it is a good match, and I give you my word I shall make you happy.”
He leaned closer, and through no will of her own Lilliana turned slightly toward him. His lips brushed hers, singeing her. She did not move, stood as rigid as a statue, her gaze riveted on his cheek. Slowly he lowered his head again, teasing her lips with the whisper of his before carefully shaping her mouth to fit his.
Liquid fire spread rapidly, heating every inch of her body, then suddenly swelled to a full-blown panic. She had never been kissed before, not like this, not so sweetly and tenderly and earnestly that she turned molten. It was a strange, enticing sensation—she felt almost weightless, quivering when his hand ran a fiery path down her arm.
And then he suddenly lifted his head. Lilliana grabbed the edge of the pianoforte, her eyes locked on his lips. Those lips had touched hers. Adrian Spence had kissed her! It was unimaginable, incredible—“It is unfathomable, my lord!” she suddenly blurted out. “Please, I must … I need to think!”
“Of course,” he murmured soothingly. “May I call again tomorrow? Perhaps that will give you time to digest my offer and we might discuss it further.”
She rather doubted she would be able to digest a single thing for the rest of the day, but she nodded dumbly. The charming smile he flashed her was full of white teeth as he lifted her hand to his lips. When he turned her hand over and kissed the soft inside of her wrist, another startling spark ignited deep inside her and sent a chain of tingles up her spine. “I will make you a good husband, Lilliana,” he murmured, and a suggestive grin curled his lips. “In every conceivable way.”
A deep heat instantly flooded her cheeks; he chuckled and dropped her hand, then turned and strode to the door, where he paused to glance over his shoulder. “Until tomorrow?”
“I, ah, I … tomorrow,” she stammered. And then he was gone, leaving her to absorb the most incredible, most unbelievable thing that had ever happened in all her twenty-two years. Lilliana closed her eyes. It was absurd; the whole thing was patently absurd.
Almost as absurd as her giddy feeling of complete elation.
She suddenly pushed away from the pianoforte and rushed to an oval mirror to peer at her reflection. Nothing had changed—it was her looking back, the same, simple Lilliana Dashell. Slowly she brought her hands to her cheeks as she stared at her wide-eyed reflection. Heaven help her, but if she could have knocked on the pearly gates and asked God for just one favor, it would have been Adrian Spence. If she were married to a man like him, she might soar where others feared to, far away from Blackfield Grange and her mother’s rigid rules and the expectations of a gently reared miss! Mother of God, she might actually experience life! She could travel to the ends of the earth, see things that most people could not even imagine, and best of all, she could gaze at his handsome face every day! It was more than she had ever dared to dream, but here it was, presented to her on a silver platter.
The bothersome image of Benedict appeared in her mind’s eye, and she felt no small amount of guilt for what she was thinking. Yet she knew as she turned and blindly made her way to the door that she would accept Lord Albright’s offer. As patently ridiculous as it was, she knew that as well as she knew the sun would come up in the morning.
Adrian accepted the reins from a groom who glared at him as if he had stolen the crown jewels, and sent Thunder trotting toward Newhall, the little village just five miles east of Kealing and the closest accommodations to Blackfield Grange. At least, he thought as he glanced at the fields around him, she seemed to take it well. He had expected some indignation, but Lilliana Dashell had taken his unorthodox offer rather well once she was capable of speaking instead of staring at him as if he were some sort of apparition.
He was not displeased with his progress.
And he was not entirely displeased with her. For all of Pearle’s praise of the younger sister, he had feared she would be homely. She was not homely, but neither was she pretty. Just … average. Average height and build, average looks—exactly what one might expect in a parish princess. Her blond hair was pretty, he thought idly, or rather, could be pretty—it looked a bit like a bird’s nest today. And the mud on her gown might be cause for wonder, but he shrugged to himself, unaffected by it. She was, in a word, unremarkable, and he couldn’t help wondering briefly what Benedict saw in her. He didn’t really care—he only cared that her father seemed to be a wise man.
Not that Dashell wasn’t astounded, and that son of his rather indignant But the baron had quickly understood the enormity of his offer, and had quickly agreed that while it was Lilliana’s decision, he would not be disinclined to a match. What else could the man say? He was offering Dashell a solution to his many problems, and giving his daughter a match far above what she could hope for otherwise. Adrian had no doubt his offer would be accepted.
Lilliana descended the stairs very slowly, careful to step in such a way that the wood did not creak. If there was one thing that infuriated her mother even more than her racing, it was her habit of taking moonlit walks.
Yes, well, she was a bit restless, thank you, and her mother would just have to bear it.
How could she blame her? There was too much to think about! With a bewildered shake of her head, Lilliana paused in the corridor to fetch a heavy cloak. The sound of raised voices coming from the drawing room startled her, and she froze, straining to hear. It was quite extraordinary, really, as she could not recall ever having heard her parents argue. No one had to tell her that they argued about Lord Albright’s offer. She quietly moved closer, listening carefully to the muffled voices, then catching her breath when she overheard her mother demand that the earl’s offer be denied. “Oh, Walter, the entire parish will think Lilliana has jilted Lord Benedict! Everyone knows he intends to offer for her—can you not see how it will look when she marries his brother? Not to mention that there will be talk of why, exactly, they were married in such a rush!”
“My dear,” her father answered patiently, “if she accepts the earl, they will be gone from the parish in a fortnight. What little talk there is will soon vanish, and we can ill afford to let a little scandal cloud our judgment.”
That remark astounded Lilliana, seeing as how her mother lived in constant fear of scandal, and very deliberately, she crept to the door. The scrape of a chair on the wood floor was followed by the sound of her father’s footfall. “Don’t look so ill, love. He offers us a freedom I could never give you, you know that. Fifty thousand pounds, Alice! Kealing offers us little more than servitude—he may pay our debts, but he takes the Grange in return. Think of our Tom! Think of what he will inherit if we are forced to accept Kealing’s offer—a mere forty percent!”
“I do think of Tom, but I also think of Lilliana!” her mother moaned. “She does not know this man! He has a horrid reputation—”
“Granted, he is known as a rogue, but he also has a very fine reputation of being fair and reputable in his business dealings. And you can hardly ignore the fact that he can give her a rich life. We could never hope for a better offer, my love.”
“He can give her a rich life, but he can also break her heart. I’m sorry, Walter, but it is all very suspect that he should come now. He does not know her, and—”
“He does not need to know her, Alice. He needs the requisite connections and good breeding stock, nothing more,” her father said flatly.
A curious silence had followed that remark, and then her mother sighed sadly. “Oh Lord, the rift this is bound to cause in that family is not to be borne! We should refuse both sons and take our chances!”
“It can be borne if it means keeping us from debtor’s prison and giving Tom his due. Alice, you know that we must accept one of the offers, or we are ruined. You must think of Tom! And I daresay, Lilliana’s chances for a good match grow smaller with each passing day!”
Lilliana stood perfectly still, her head swimming with confusion. Debtor
’s prison? She knew that they had experienced what her mother called a rough patch … but debtor’s prison? A band of fear tightened around her chest as she imagined the authorities dragging her father away. And exactly when had Lord Kealing made an offer? Her father had told her only that the marquis had mentioned his son’s interest in her!
She heard the scrape of the chair again. “Ah, Alice. It is Lilliana’s decision, not ours. If she chooses the earl, well then, I am quite confident she will bear it well. She is a spirited girl.”
Her mother snorted her opinion of that, and Lilliana could not bear to hear more. She didn’t need to hear more—everything was suddenly very clear now, and she turned and walked quietly away.
Outside, she ran to the edge of bowling lawn, her breath frosting in the night air. The icy cold felt good in her lungs and cleared her mind. In truths the conversation she had overheard had shaken her badly, but not for the obvious reasons. Oh, she thought Lord Kealing’s terms were as odious as Lord Albright’s were suspect. But instead of being shocked and outraged, she felt an enormous sense of relief. Her parents did not think her particularly marriageable. That was not new—although they had never said it to her, it was something she just knew. It logically followed, then, that they did not believe a man like Lord Albright could want her. Well, she could not believe it either. But all that aside, if what they said was true, then Lord Albright had given her the reason to do what she knew she would do this very afternoon, what she longed to do. He had given her a sane reason to accept his offer—to save her family’s home.
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