“After you worked months designing it with Kit? The two of you put your hearts and souls into that house.”
He gave her a wan smile. “Kit liked some of my ideas so much, he’s planning changes to his own home in Windsor.”
“You cannot just sell it, Rand.”
“Well, it makes no sense to keep it if I’ll never be using it, does it? I can put the money into Hawkridge, help it recover from the loss of Margery’s land that much sooner. Or…wait…”
A light had entered his eyes. “What?” Lily asked.
“The money can be yours,” he said softly, looking pleased with himself. “For your animal home.”
It would mean she’d have the best of both worlds—Rand and her dream—but she said, “No.”
“Yes.” He nodded emphatically. “It’s my house, after all, built with income that had nothing to do with Hawkridge. My father and the estate have no claim on it whatsoever.”
“No, Rand.” She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let him give up his house in Oxford—and the life he’d made for himself there—for an old childhood dream. “I won’t hear of it.”
It was a silly dream, anyway, a childish dream for a child. Her strays had no need of a fancy, custom-built home and a staff of trained caretakers. She’d done just fine by them so far, all by herself with makeshift pens in a corner of a barn, and surely the marquess would have no objection to her doing the same at Hawkridge.
True, she dreamed of helping more animals—hundreds more, possibly even in several homes spread across the country—but who knew if she’d ever find such a large number of needful creatures? Her strays had always found her.
They’d reached the woods, and Rand apparently decided not to argue, instead pulling her into his arms. “Are you really going to make me wait two weeks?” he asked, lowering his lips to hers, for an unhurried, teasing, coaxing kiss.
She wasn’t thrilled about the wait either. All she wanted was to know—no, to believe—that he was truly hers. He felt so warm and solid against her body, she could almost see them staying together forever.
She sighed against his mouth. “Let’s go back,” she said. “There’s much to settle. Our wedding date, for one.”
“And then?”
“And then maybe I’ll believe it.”
SEVENTY-ONE
THE NEGOTIATIONS took place over a dinner that had gone cold while waiting for their return.
“Two weeks,” Lily told her mother.
“Two weeks! I cannot plan a wedding in two weeks.”
“You did for Violet and Ford,” Lily reminded her, and that was that.
Looking victorious, Lily turned to Rand’s father. “Now I would like to discuss our living arrangements.”
His gaze landed on the diamond pendant she wore. Though he’d granted Rand permission to give it to her, Rand still held his breath, waiting for a reaction.
At last the marquess nodded his approval, a small smile curving his lips. “I realize Randal’s chamber is small,” he told her. “Perhaps we can refurbish—”
“That would be nice, but I meant where we will live and when.”
The man picked up his fork, his smile becoming a slight frown. “You’ll live at Hawkridge, of course. Where did you think you would live?”
“Oxford, at least part of the year. Rand’s position there is important to him. His research—”
“Lily,” Rand started.
“He can research at home,” his father cut in. “He’ll be the marquess someday, which means he has responsibilities.”
She smiled sweetly. “Certainly he does—”
“Lily,” Rand interrupted.
“—but that doesn’t mean he must be at Hawkridge all the time. Many landowners have more than one estate, and a man cannot be two or three places at once. Why, Father visits Tremayne but once a year, and it thrives quite well without his constant presence.”
“Lily,” Rand tried to put in.
But she wasn’t finished. “Oxford has three terms a year of eight weeks each. Twenty-four weeks out of fifty-two. There are long breaks between those terms and the whole summer free…if Rand agrees to spend the remaining twenty-eight weeks at Hawkridge learning his responsibilities, surely you can survive without him during term times.”
“Lily—”
“Just until he’s needed at Hawkridge year-round,” she said by way of conclusion. “But given your excellent state of health, we’re both hoping that won’t be for a long, long time.”
She topped off her arguments with a sweet smile that the marquess apparently found bemusing, given he seemed to be frozen in place with his fork halfway to his mouth.
But Rand was not similarly charmed. “Lily,” he repeated and paused for a moment, expecting her to interrupt. When she didn’t, he sighed. “I truly want to sell my house so you’ll have the money for your animal home. It’s the least I can do after you so generously offered to save my family.”
Rose clapped. Lady Trentingham smiled.
Rand’s father came to life. “Animal home?”
“Lily’s lifelong dream,” the countess explained. “She’s rather fond of animals—”
“This isn’t news to me,” his father said with a smile that looked out of place on his face.
“And she had planned, upon coming into her inheritance, to build a home where strays could be sheltered and, if necessary, nursed to health.”
“With a staff,” Lily added. “But truly, my lord, I don’t mind investing in Hawkridge instead. It will be my children’s legacy, after all. And I especially don’t want Rand to sell his Oxford house. As proud as you are of building Hawkridge, he feels the same of his home. And—”
“Enough.” The marquess waved his fork. “You will talk my ear off, child. Randal shall keep his house, and if his responsibilities at Oxford can be fulfilled in twenty-four weeks a year, they may have him for that time. But I get him the rest,” he warned.
“Of course.”
His jaw set, Rand shook his head. “No. I said—”
“She shall have her animal home,” the marquess interrupted, “at Hawkridge. I have staff enough to spare, and if nothing else, it will ensure you two stay there on a regular basis. Now, if everyone’s concerns have been addressed to their satisfaction, I had better be off. Margery’s wedding
