The marquess blinked some more. Margery’s hands clenched in her lap. The clock kept ticking. Rand prayed silently, harder than he’d ever prayed in his life.
“Marry whom you wish,” his father said at last with a sigh.
Margery leapt up and rounded the desk to hug him. “Thank you, Uncle William, thank you! You’ve always been so kind to me, I knew in the end you’d choose for my happiness.”
Rand’s father just grunted.
Rand sat immobile, his entire body seemingly gone boneless.
He’d done it.
He was going to marry Lily.
“I must go tell Bennett!”
Rand had never seen Margery’s eyes look so green, her face look so flushed. He smiled, picturing Lily looking that happy.
“I’ll take you to him,” he said, “on my way back to Trentingham. Lily will be anxious to hear this news, too.”
“I’m going with you,” his father said.
Halfway to rising, Rand dropped back onto his chair. “Pardon?”
“What sort of a man do you take me for?” the marquess asked, then apparently decided he’d best not wait for an answer. “Not only has your Lily saved my dog’s life, she is also about to save Hawkridge from ruin. The least I can do is welcome her into our family.”
Rand wasn’t sure he was ready to think of himself and his father as a family—he suspected they might never truly be friends. But he grudgingly admitted that it seemed the man’s heart might be in the right place.
Or getting there, anyway.
SEVENTY
WHILE THE marquess rode around Armstrong House dismissing all the guards, Rand dismounted and walked Margery to the door. The butler answered and showed them both into a sitting room, then went to fetch Lord Armstrong.
Rand sat on a red velvet chair watching Margery walk aimlessly around the chamber, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. She’d be happy here, he thought. Though the house was centuries older and much smaller than Hawkridge, it was well kept and richly appointed. Besides, he knew Margery would be happy anywhere so long as she was with Armstrong.
It was the same for him and Lily. Home would be where Lily lived, even if that was Hawkridge.
“Margery!” The baron rushed into the room, then stopped short when he saw Rand.
Rand rose from the chair. “She’s yours, Armstrong.”
Long-lost hope leapt into the man’s eyes. “You mean…”
“Yes. My father has agreed to your marriage.”
“How—why—”
“Margery will explain,” Rand said. “Later.”
She’d stopped roaming. Now she seemed simply frozen in place, gazing at the man she loved as though she couldn’t believe he would be hers. When he took a step toward her, she came to life and rushed into his arms.
Their lips met, and Rand smiled. That would be he and Lily soon, and he knew their reunion would be even better. In fact, he couldn’t imagine why he was standing here watching such a scene when he could be participating in one of his own.
“I’m leaving,” he announced.
With a heartfelt sigh, Margery drew back—slightly. “Good-bye, Randy,” she said, though it was Armstrong’s eyes she was gazing into.
“I’m leaving you two alone.”
“I know,” she murmured, her mouth stretching into a wide smile.
“Be good,” Rand said, knowing they wouldn’t.
LILY’S FINGERS ran over the harpsichord keys in an unceasing pattern. “What time is it?” she asked.
“About five minutes after the last time I told you.” Rose didn’t bother to look at a clock. “I thought you found music calming.”
“Well, today it’s not.”
“Perhaps it would help if you’d play something besides scales.” Rose set down her needlework and pulled a droopy bloom from the flower arrangement beside her. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry.” The music stopped abruptly as Lily folded her hands in her lap. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be patient. “That it’s taking this long, it’s a good sign, yes?” She heard her sister rise and walk across the drawing room. “It must mean his father is listening.”
“It must,” Rose said in a soothing way.
But Lily heard laughter bubbling underneath. Her eyes popped open. “This isn’t easy, you know. My entire life is hanging in the balance.”
“Of course it’s not easy.” Rose plucked three browning leaves off some flowers on the wide windowsill. “But surely not your entire life. If it all ends badly, you’ll go on—”
“You’ve never been in love,” Lily said.
The leaves crunched in her sister’s fisted hand. “No,” she agreed, “I haven’t. And given what you’re going through, I believe that’s just as well.”
“You’re wrong.” Lily’s voice came a whisper. “I wouldn’t trade love for tranquility.”
“Some of us,” Rose said, “don’t seem to have a choice.”
“Oh, Rose.” Lily’s eyes met her sister’s dark ones. “Someday…”
You’ll find someone.
The words hung between them, unsaid, until Rose looked away and out the window. “Someone’s riding up the road.”
“Rand!” Lily jumped up and brushed at her sky blue skirts.
Rose frowned. “No, two someones. I wonder who they could be?”
“Two?” Lily pulled a few curls forward to frame her face. “How do I look?”
“He’s not going to care,” said the sister that took the most care with her own appearance. “Go to him, Lily.”
As she hurried to the entry hall, Lily wondered if one of the riders was indeed Rand. After all, there were two, and he’d set out for Hawkridge Hall alone. As Parkinson opened the door, she braced herself for disappointment.
Rand stood on the other side, a wide smile on his face. Her heart leapt—until she looked beyond him.
“Lord Hawkridge. How, um, how very nice to see you.”
“Lady Lily.” Rand’s father bowed, for once looking at a loss for words.
“Rand,” her mother said warmly, glossing over the awkward moment as she appeared from seemingly nowhere. “Come in, please. And you,” she said to Lord Hawkridge, “must be this young man’s father. The resemblance is unmistakable.”
Rand didn’t look particularly pleased at that observation. Lily stared at him, caught in his compelling gray gaze, wondering…
“And you must be Lady Trentingham. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” the marquess told her mother. “I’ve come to welcome your daughter into my family.”
It
