“I know what you’re thinking, Randy.” The very picture of misery, she laid a hand on her still-flat middle. “It was a horrible mistake. That is, well, it wasn’t horrible. It was very nice—” At Rand’s appalled expression, she turned red and lowered her gaze. “But afterwards,” she began, then stopped and shook her head. “I was only a little nervous at first. It was just one time, and there isn’t always a baby, you know. But then I would sit in church every Sunday, unable to think of anything else but my wickedness, and then I began noticing the signs—”
“Spare me those particular details, if you wouldn’t mind,” Rand said quickly. Living among academics, including those who studied medicine, he was familiar with the common symptoms of pregnancy—and he did not need to associate them with his baby sister.
“I’m sorry.” Margery’s eyes filled with tears again, and Rand’s sympathy began to win out over his other instincts. “We didn’t mean for it to happen! Truly. It’s just—” Her voice broke, and she took a moment to gather herself. “We just got carried away,” she finished in a whisper.
Remembering last night in the drawing room, Rand felt his skin prickle. He and Lily had been alone. Alone in a luxurious room with music, candlelight, and emotions running high. Anything could have happened between them. Why, something almost had happened! He ought to be down on his knees giving thanks for their lucky show of restraint—for Rand suspected it was only luck that had kept Lily from suffering his poor foster sister’s fate.
Though he could not condone Margery’s behavior, in light of his own close call, sympathy was definitely carrying the day. Temptation was a difficult thing to resist. Perhaps Lily was right that they ought to keep some distance until—until, not unless—their marriage was settled. The thought of having to decide between preserving Armstrong’s life or Lily’s well-deserved reputation, plus the reputation of Rand and Lily’s unborn child…
Well, Rand couldn’t say what he would choose. It was a far worse dilemma than the one he faced now—which was to say, unfathomable.
Apparently seeing his expression soften, Margery continued less timidly. “No one else knows about the babe except Bennett. It’s why we’d planned to elope. I tried to obey, Rand, truly I did, but I just couldn’t marry Alban knowing I carried another man’s child. Alban was…he would have killed it,” she said flatly.
Nausea threatened, but Rand fought it off. “Well, he cannot kill it now,” he said in a way he hoped was soothing.
“But I still…” She swallowed hard. “Oh, Randy, I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you—” She gave a violent sniffle. “Will you raise it as yours?”
For what felt like the hundredth time today, Rand was stunned.
“We can hope it’s a girl,” Margery rushed on, “so it won’t be your heir, and—”
“We’re going to find another way.” Rand’s head was suddenly throbbing. “It won’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl, because the child will be raised by its father.”
“But what if?” Evidently she was quite past clinging to that hope. “Uncle William is planning our wedding for seven days hence. What if we’re forced to marry? Will you raise this child as yours? I could have hidden it from you, tried to make you believe it was yours, but—”
“You’re not like that, I know.” Margery had obviously made mistakes, but he knew she would never try to deceive him.
And he also knew there was no chance he’d ever fall for such a ploy, because if, heaven forbid, he was forced to wed her, he wouldn’t be sharing her bed.
He could never bring himself to share a bed with anyone but Lily.
Margery stood and threw her arms around him. Slow tears trailed down her pale cheeks, leaking from eyes that looked hopeless. “What if, Rand? Will you be a true father to this child?”
“Of course I will,” he said simply, because there was nothing else he could say.
But he would find another way…because there was nothing else he could do.
Nothing.
FIFTY-TWO
STILL STARING AT the spot where the final ember had winked out in the fireplace, Lily huddled beneath the covers of her giant state bed.
Although Beatrix nestled against her and Rose snored softly nearby, she’d never felt so alone in her life.
Was she fated to be alone forever?
There must be another way, Rand had said over and over, as though he could make it so by repetition alone. But Lily was unconvinced. It seemed that no matter what solution they came up with, his father would shoot it down.
For a long time she lay awake, stroking Beatrix’s downy fur and watching the unfriendly shadows cast on the walls by tree branches blowing in the wind. Rand had no love for this house, and as much as she always tried to look on the bright side of things, she couldn’t help but think that in this case he was right. Although it was beautiful, there seemed something sinister about Hawkridge, something that made her skin crawl. She didn’t feel safe here.
She hugged herself for a long while, praying for exhaustion to overtake her. Then she climbed out of bed and slid a wrapper over her night rail.
A few minutes later, she knocked softly on Rand’s door.
He came to answer, wearing just breeches and a shirt that was open at the neck and cuffs. He looked as sleepless as she.
“Rand?” Feeling shy and nervous, she fingered the end of her long plait. “May I sleep here?”
He gathered her close. “I thought we were trying not to tempt each other, in case it turns out…well, you know,” he finished lamely.
A heaviness settled in Lily’s heart. She stared down at his bare feet. No matter what he said over and over, he wasn’t convinced that everything would end
