Lily’s heart skittered. “I see a boy. A gray-eyed boy with long, dark gold hair.”
His lips curved in a half smile. “Twins. They run in your family, don’t they?”
Despite everything, she had to laugh. “If you’d seen my sister heavy with twins, you wouldn’t wish that on me. Besides, it’s Ford’s family that runs to twins. Surely you know he’s a twin himself.”
“Ah, yes. Kendra.” For a moment, Rand looked far away, lost in the past. Then the faint smile faded from his face. “One child, twins, triplets—I don’t care, so long as they’re ours. More than anything, Lily, I want you to have my children.”
“I want that, too, so very much.” Instinctively, Lily’s hand moved to her middle. Then it fell back to her lap. “But that would mean…not only Bennett Armstrong…”
Rand nodded stiffly. “Armstrong condemned to death, Margery tarnished as a fallen woman, and her child branded a bastard. Could I live with myself, having caused all of that?”
Of course he couldn’t; he wouldn’t be Rand if he could. The lump was rising in Lily’s throat again. “There must be another way,” she said, using his words. “You’re right—we both need to think.”
He put his bigger hand over hers. “Not now. I’m sorry, but I must go to Oxford. I need more clothes, and other—”
“I didn’t mean you’re never allowed to go off alone. You’ll think in Oxford, and I’ll think here.”
By unspoken agreement, they rose and began walking in the direction of Trentingham—without hurry this time. Rand took her hand. “After Oxford, I must go back to Hawkridge. Armstrong said he was hunting with a party; one of the other men might have seen something. Or someone else. If need be, I will interview every soul in a ten-mile radius. If there exists any evidence to exonerate the baron, I will find it.”
Leaves crunched beneath Lily’s stockinged feet, and when a twig snapped with a loud crack, Rand swept her up into his arms. She linked her hands behind his neck. “I shall come and help you.”
She saw the telltale hesitation, felt the slight tightening of his arms before he decided to come out with it. “Let me talk to my father first. You’ll be but two hours away, and I’ll come for you, I promise, once I’m convinced my father will be civil.” His gray eyes pleaded for her to understand.
And she did understand, but it was frustrating to feel so helpless. Yet she was secretly pleased that he meant to confront his father at last, just as the marquess had finally, after all these years, confided in his son. Why, it was almost as if they were beginning to see each other as human beings.
“Trust me on this, sweetheart,” he added softly.
”Very well. But if I think of anything that could help, anything at all, I’ll come to you,” she warned him as they emerged from the woods.
In the soft grass that lined the banks of the river, he set her on her feet and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he murmured, the words a warm promise against her skin. “We’re in this together. Never doubt that, my love.”
FIFTY-SIX
DINNER WAS A subdued affair.
Bacon tart was usually one of Lily’s favorites, its flaky crust and sweet almonds contrasting with the salty meat, but today she only picked at it while she and Rand recounted the details of their predicament to her parents.
Mum looked very sorry that she’d let her daughters go to Hawkridge, although as Lily pointed out, their absence wouldn’t have changed anything.
“It would have spared you some discomfort, dear,” Mum said.
But that didn’t matter to Lily. The reward for that discomfort had been more time with Rand—precious time that could turn out to be their last.
Afterward, Lily saw him out to his carriage. “If you think of anything,” she told him, “anything at all—I want to know. And if I think of anything, I’ll send word to you in Oxford.”
“I may not be there long enough for word to reach me. Fewer than six days remain until the wedding. I mean to get back to Hawkridge well before that to begin investigating.”
“Then stop here on the way. Please. It won’t cost you but half an hour, and I may have an idea—”
She broke off when his lips descended on hers.
The kiss was fierce, desperate. It made her mouth burn and her senses reel wildly. She knew, without a doubt, that she would never find this with anyone else—and the truth cracked her heart.
When he finally broke the kiss, he shut his eyes and clasped her to him, so hard it almost hurt. “Lily, this cannot be the end for us. It just cannot.”
“It won’t be.” Gingerly extracting herself, she brushed her lips over his one last time. “You’ll stop by on your way to Hawkridge?”
He opened his eyes and nodded.
“Then I’ll see you in a few days,” she said, suspecting those days would be the longest of her life.
Rose, however, wasn’t going to let her mope around.
“I think tonight we should have our sleeping party,” she said when Lily reentered the house.
Lily rubbed her face. “So you’re speaking to me again?”
Her sister only shrugged and looked away, her expression contrite.
But Lily smiled, knowing this was Rose-speak for I’m sorry. She reached to squeeze her sister’s shoulder. “I’m so glad. That we’re speaking again, I mean. And Rose, I know I said some hurtful things last night, and I’m s—”
“They were true.”
“Pardon?” Lily’s brows snapped together. “But I accused you of—”
“Sabotage, yes. Just listen, and please don’t interrupt, or I might lose my nerve.” Rose took a deep breath, leaning against the balustrade as if for support. “I convinced you to go to Hawkridge because I wanted to break your betrothal. I was…very angry with both you and Rand. So when he seemed to
