A different way of thinking, but Rand liked it. “I suspect the marquess would have called him a coward. But if he hadn’t gone off to war, he would never have been indebted to Margery’s father. And I wouldn’t be in this mess today.”
“We wouldn’t be in this mess,” she corrected gently. “We’ll find a way out together.”
In that moment, his love for her increased tenfold. He couldn’t remember when anyone had supported him so unconditionally. In order to persevere, he’d always needed to find the strength within himself. But now he could depend on—lean on—Lily. Those narrow shoulders were deceptively strong.
In the shade of a spreading tree he stopped, turning her toward him to meet her mouth. “I love you, Lily Ashcroft,” he murmured against her lips.
“And I, you.” Her hands slipped under his coat, and she leaned back to look up at him. “What else? There’s more, I can tell.”
“You’re a dangerous woman.” He chuckled and kissed her on the nose before sobering. “The maid the marquess assigned to you, Etta…”
She frowned and took his arm to resume walking. “She’s a kind sort.”
“She used to be my nurse, and yes, she’s very kind.” He hadn’t expected to find anything he cared for here at Hawkridge. Or anyone. “She—and others—made my childhood here bearable.”
A bee buzzed over their heads, then flew off. “You worry for them,” she said with the sort of compassion that made her Lily. “Not for your father, not for Hawkridge the estate, but for Hawkridge’s people.”
“The old family retainers.”
“And the tenants and villagers, too, I imagine. There must be dozens of people who depend on Hawkridge for their livelihoods.”
“Hundreds.” Pulling her close, he buried his face in her fragrant hair. “Oh God, Lily. As much as I don’t want to jump to the marquess’s command, as much as I cannot imagine giving up my hard-won professorship, as much as I cannot stand to think of losing you—absolutely won’t consider losing you—”
His voice broke.
“You also cannot imagine letting all these people down,” Lily finished for him, drawing back.
Capturing his gaze, she caught his hands in both of hers.
Devastation.
There was no other word to describe the way she felt. A hole had opened in her middle, a bottomless pit, sucking every shred of her newfound happiness into its void.
Tears threatened as she squeezed his fingers, trying to draw strength from his very bones.
He pulled one thumb from her grip to rub it over the scars on the back of her hand. She searched his eyes, dark gray with pain. “There must be another way,” she said. He looked so steady. He was her rock. Rocks did not up and disappear. “Besides meek acceptance of your father’s dictates, there must be another way.”
Clearly wanting to believe her, he nodded—but he didn’t look convinced. “I meant what I said, Lily. I won’t give you up for anything. But I ran, and then I walked, and yet I couldn’t think—”
“There’s my marriage portion.” She drew him to sit beside her on a wooden bench.
“I told him about that,” Rand admitted, looking guilty.
“As you should have. It will be yours as soon as we wed.”
With a gentle hand, he pushed her hair off her face. “I don’t feel as though it necessarily should be. I didn’t earn it. Everything else I have, I’ve earned.”
“It’s the way the world works, Rand. I vow, you’re one of the few men I’ve met who wouldn’t run to the altar for that sort of money.” Yet more proof he was special. “What did he say?”
“He said, and I quote, it ‘wouldn’t make a dent in Hawkridge’s needs.’”
She nodded, unsurprised. Three thousand pounds was a respectable sum for a dowry, but a man of the marquess’s stature wouldn’t face bankruptcy for a lack of that amount. “Do you expect an additional ten thousand would make a difference?”
He blinked. “Ten thousand?”
“My inheritance. I’ve told you about it, remember? Grandpapa left me ten thousand pounds—”
“Ten thousand pounds?” The look on his face made her realize she’d never mentioned the amount, only discussed what she planned to do with it. “I never thought about…I remember now that Violet was left that much money, but she’s the eldest…it never occurred to me…”
Sudden understanding stole over his expression.
“Is that what Rose was talking about that day in the summerhouse?” he said, looking incredulous. “Her inheritance? I assumed she was counting on her dowry and planning to wheedle the rest out of your father. I never for a minute believed she’d actually deliver on such a sum.”
“Not even Rose makes promises she cannot keep,” Lily said, feeling a fresh stab of guilt when she remembered her own broken promise. But it was a little stab, because she knew she and Rand belonged together, and because she also knew that all her anguish of the past few weeks was inconsequential compared to what they were facing now. “Yes, we were each left ten thousand pounds. The money won’t be mine until I turn twenty-one, but perhaps…no, I’m certain my father will allow me to have it early. We can give it to your father, to save Hawkridge, and then we’ll be able to marry.”
Rand looked stunned. “You had plans for that money. You were going to build a home for stray animals. And use the rest of your funds to run it for many years.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “So I’ll find another way,” she whispered. “I love animals, but I love you more.”
His eyes grew suspiciously glossy. She’d never seen a man cry. She moved onto his lap, kissing those eyes, his nose, his cheeks. “How much is Margery’s fortune?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe more. But if the
