“They’re wonderful,” he repeated firmly, and she was secretly pleased. If he was learning to appreciate her imperfect family, perhaps there was hope for him reconciling with his own.
THIRTY-FOUR
RAND WAS LONG gone by the time the Ashcrofts were set to depart. A valet and two maids had had to stuff the family’s first carriage with a surprising amount of luggage, considering they’d left home for just one night. Then there was the matter of conveying Rowan downstairs and settling him in the second carriage with his parents, as Mum wished to watch over him during the bumpy journey. This left Lily and Rose alone in the third carriage.
The ride was predictably quiet, each sister staring out opposite windows. Lily sat with Beatrix in her lap, barely seeing the scenery and certainly not enjoying it. Between her concern for Rand and the tension with Rose, her stomach was tying itself in knots. She wished she could say something to lighten the mood. She wished they could be as close as they used to be.
But they were nearing Trentingham and she still hadn’t worked up the courage to speak when the carriage bounced over a particularly deep rut. Lily was sent careening into Rose, and Beatrix tumbled to the floor with an angry shriek.
“Sorry, Rose!” Lily gasped, scrambling off her. She rubbed her forehead where it had bumped Rose’s shoulder. “And my apologies to you, too, Beatrix.”
Picking herself up with as much dignity as she could muster, the disgruntled cat curled up in the furthest corner of the carriage, her back turned to Lily.
Lily must have looked forlorn indeed, because Rose finally spoke. “She’ll forgive you.” Tidying her hair, she jerked her head to indicate Beatrix. “She’s just nursing her pride.”
Lily knew that; in truth, she’d been wondering whether Rose would ever forgive her, not Beatrix. But she was so happy they were talking, she didn’t much care what was said.
Now, how to keep Rose talking?
Flattery, of course, was the obvious choice. “Kit admired you yesterday. Did you notice?”
“Of course,” Rose said haughtily, arranging a plump, dark curl over one shoulder.
“Did you admire him?”
Rose shrugged. “He’s handsome enough. It’s unfortunate he’s not titled.”
Lily frowned. “He’s a successful architect. Goodness, he gets commissions from the king himself! I imagine he can afford to live in a grand style. Why should it matter that he’s not titled?”
“Of course it matters. Violet is a viscountess, and you—soon you’ll be a baroness and eventually a marchioness. Why should I settle for less?”
“You’re the Earl of Trentingham’s daughter, which means you could marry a guttersnipe and you’d still be Lady Rose. Besides, if you’re in love with the man, it’s not settling.”
“Well, I’m not in love with Kit, am I? I’ve just met him, and I’ve no intention of getting to know him better when he’s not what I want.” Rose averted her gaze, looking out at the rolling countryside.
End of discussion. Lily could swear she felt the temperature in the carriage drop.
So much for growing closer.
A few minutes later, Rose surprised her sister by speaking again. “Why are you even here?” She kept her gaze on the view.
Lily traced the scars on the back of her hand. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you sneaked out of your room last night, I figured you meant to abscond with your betrothed to Hawkridge.”
Lily’s jaw dropped. “You knew I sneaked out?”
“Of course.” Lily could hear the scorn in her voice. “My room was next door to yours. What did you think, the walls were ten feet thick?”
“No, I just—” Lily swallowed hard. “Did you tell Mum and Father?”
Silently, Rose shook her head. It had begun raining outside, and the carriage passed by a flock of wet, bedraggled-looking sheep. When the last of the herd was out of view, she turned to Lily, her eyes dark and unreadable. “I know that you won. I’ll never like it, but I do know it. And I don’t intend to put myself in your way.”
Lily looked at her hands, unsure of her response. This seemed like progress—didn’t it?—but her sister’s voice held no trace of understanding or affection. She’d almost rather have Rose’s contempt than this cool, businesslike acceptance.
“Why did you come back?” Rose asked again.
“He didn’t want to take me with him. He said Hawkridge isn’t a good place for me.”
“Do you think he’s right?”
Lily shrugged. She didn’t know what to think. “Maybe.”
Rose moved across the carriage to sit beside her sister. “Then you have to go,” she said strongly.
Lily’s head jerked up. “What?”
“If you marry him, sooner or later Hawkridge will be your home. You can’t run away from that. You must go there and show that you belong—with him, and at Hawkridge. You mustn’t begin a marriage with doubts.”
“Do you really think so?” Lily was astonished to hear Rose offering words of support, but they did agree with her own views. She’d let Rand go alone because it was what he wanted, and she wouldn’t presume to tag along uninvited. But that didn’t mean she’d felt it was for the best. “It’s too late, anyway,” she said with a sigh. “Rand’s already gone, and I’ve no one else to travel with. Mum won’t take me until Rowan’s ankle is mended, and by then Rand will probably be back.”
“What about Violet?”
“With two newborns on her hands? She wouldn’t leave them if the King himself commanded it.”
Rose heaved a sigh that put Lily’s to shame. Resignation seemed to age her features. “Then I suppose I’ll have to go with you.”
“What?” Lily’s screech made Beatrix jump. “Why would you do that?”
“What other option is there? You cannot go alone.” Lily opened her mouth, but Rose continued, “I know what you’re going to say, and yes, it’s true that an unmarried sister is not an ideal chaperone. But I’m better than nothing,
