“But Lily has always—always!—wanted to marry for love!” Rose declared.
Aunt Agatha snorted. “Love? Pah! Love and marriage have nothing to do with each other.”
“It does in this family,” Emm said.
Aunt Agatha stabbed her lorgnette in Emm’s direction. “You made a marriage of convenience to my nephew—don’t try to deny it, Emmaline. And you must admit it has worked out very well.”
“It has,” Emm agreed, “because Cal and I fell in love. And I want the girls—all of them—to have that opportunity. I took a chance when I agreed to marry Cal. I never expected to love or be loved—only by any children I might be blessed with.” She placed a hand on her swelling belly. “I was long past my first youth, alone in the world—or thought I was—poor, and unlikely to be courted ever again. I expected to remain a spinster for the rest of my life—until Cal made his proposition.”
“And it turned out very well,” Aunt Agatha said irritably.
“Yes, but it could have been otherwise. We were lucky.” Emm caught Lily’s hand and squeezed it fondly. “Lily is young—just eighteen—with her whole life ahead of her. She has a loving family, financial security, and a growing circle of admirers—just look at all the flowers she’s been sent. I won’t allow her to be forced into marriage just to satisfy the sensibilities of a bunch of old gossips spreading false rumors.”
“Well said, Emm,” Rose declared. George clapped.
Aunt Agatha, unimpressed, curled her lip. “Those admirers will soon fade away once it’s known she’s soiled goods.”
“But I’m not!” Lily said indignantly.
Aunt Agatha sniffed. “In the eyes of the world, you are. Gossip is like acid; it eats away at the truth. Face it, child, if Galbraith doesn’t marry you, you are ruined.”
“If you say she is ruined one more time, I—I shall scream!” Emm declared.
Aunt Agatha directed a baleful glance at her. “Vulgar displays of emotion will not help the situation, Emmaline.”
Emm glared at her. “I’m not so sure about that.”
For a long moment, nobody said a word. Then George spoke up. “You haven’t said much, Lily. It’s all very well for everyone to be telling you what to do, but what do you want?”
Lily’s thoughts were in such turmoil she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Marry Edward Galbraith? Whether he wanted to or not? She looked at George and shook her head.
“Lily’s wants have nothing to do with it,” Aunt Agatha snapped. “The Rutherford name has been besmirched, and marriage to Galbraith is the only solution. She won’t be the first bride who’s found a husband thus—it is the way of the world.”
“And what if Mr. Galbraith doesn’t want to marry me?” Lily said.
Aunt Agatha snorted. “If we left it up to what men wanted, there would be precious few legitimate children born into the world.” Rose gave a choked cough. Aunt Agatha gave her a withering look and added severely, “We know what they want, but it rarely includes marriage. Mr. Galbraith will get what Mr. Galbraith deserves—a virtuous, well-bred wife of good family who, God willing, will give him the heir his family requires.”
It made Lily sound like a particularly large and indigestible pill.
“Whatever Mr. Galbraith deserves, this is about Lily, and I won’t allow her to be forced into a marriage she does not want.” Emm gave Lily a comforting smile. “She has just escaped that fate.”
Aunt Agatha stamped her ebony cane. “Bah! It’s not your decision to be made, Emmaline! Your husband is the head of this family—or has the whole world been turned upside-down and women wear the breeches? Don’t say a word, Georgiana! Ashendon will understand there is no choice. He will speak to Galbraith—he might be a rake, but he is also a gentleman—and they will make the only honorable choice. You’d best start preparing for a wedding.”
“We’ll see about that,” Emm murmured.
• • •
“Prepare for a wedding indeed—what nonsense!” Rose said later that evening as the girls were dressing to go out. “How dare she try to force you into a marriage with a man like that.”
“A man like what?” Lily asked quietly.
Rose gave her a surprised look. “Galbraith—he’s just like those men you say you cannot bear, the ones Aunt Agatha keeps producing for us: cold, clever, sophisticated and bored to death with everything. Horrid!”
“Mr. Galbraith isn’t like that really,” Lily said. “He’s much nicer than any of them.”
“Nice?” Rose was incredulous.
“Yes, he’s kind and nice and—”
“Are we talking about the same man? Galbraith—tall, dark, and with the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen. Like frost on green glass.”
“He’s not cold, he’s just . . .” Lily groped for the right word.
“I hope you’re not going to tell me he’s shy,” Rose said, and she and George laughed.
“No, he’s not shy,” Lily said with dignity. “He’s reserved. I know he seems cold, but underneath, he’s . . . different.”
“How so?”
“I can’t explain, but he’s more than he appears to be.”
Rose gave a snort worthy of her aunt. “Everyone is more than they appear to be.”
George cocked her head curiously. “Are you saying you might be willing to marry this man after all?”
Lily shrugged. “I’m not sure. In any case, he hasn’t asked.” Yet. She was all a-flutter about the possibility. She wanted him to ask her, of course she did, but not if she was to be forced on him, like a bitter pill.
Though pills could be sweetened . . .
“But he’s shown not the slightest bit of interest in you. If he did propose, it would only be out of duty.”
Lily bit her lip. “Cal and Emm weren’t in love when they got married.”
Rose eyed her narrowly. “You’re not in love with Galbraith, are you, Lily?”
“No, of course not,” she lied. She wasn’t sure if she was in love or not. She was, to put it simply, in turmoil.
Rose gave her a long, thoughtful look. “I hope it’ll never happen, Lily darling, but if you gave your heart to that piece of granite, I fear he’d break
