Though her tone sounded dire, Rand just sighed. “Come in, Margery.”
He shut the door and led her to sit on the room’s only chair, struggling to appear sympathetic. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but he’d had about all the anguish he could take—and despite her obvious distress, he couldn’t imagine anything that could make this situation even worse.
Until he heard her next words.
“Rand…oh, Rand, I’m with child.”
He dropped abruptly to sit on the bed. “God, Margery.” Hardly sympathetic, but he was too shocked to know what to say. No matter that Lily might be in the same way, this was Margery, his baby sister, Margery…
Looking even more miserable, she laid a hand on her still-flat middle. “No one else knows 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 Bennett’s child. Alban was…he would have killed it,” she said flatly.
Rand could imagine that all too well. “Well, he cannot kill it now,” he said in a way he hoped was soothing.
“But I still…” Again, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Rand, will you raise it as yours? I know it’s a lot to ask, but we can hope it’s a girl 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, Rand?” Apparently she was quite past believing that. “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.”
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 would never again lie with anyone but Lily.
Margery stood and wrapped her arms around her middle. 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
CLAD IN HER night rail with her hair in one long plait, Lily huddled under the covers of the giant state bed.
Just hours earlier at Bennett’s house, she’d thought she and Margery had made an unspoken pact, come to a wordless understanding that they would fight this problem together. But perhaps that wasn’t true; perhaps it had been her imagination. Because if a silent promise had indeed passed between them, Margery had broken it already.
Not that Lily blamed her. As she’d told Rand, were his life at risk, she’d do anything for a chance to save him. But that truth didn’t ease the distress of realizing that, other than Rand, she had no allies here at Hawkridge at all.
Although Beatrix cuddled with her, 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 shadows made on the walls by the all-too-cheerful dancing flames of the fire. 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 evil about Hawkridge, something that made her skin crawl. She didn’t like being alone in this room.
She hugged herself for a long while. 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? May I just sleep here?”
He gathered her close. “I’m not sure,” he said with a sad little chuckle. “Last night was torture for us both.” Tilting her chin up, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m afraid, sweetheart, that for me, you’re too much of a temptation.”
A heaviness settled in Lily’s chest. She stared down at his bare feet. No matter what he said over and over, he wasn’t convinced that everything would work out. Or else he would want her in his bed, and damn the risk of conceiving.
“Oh, Lily…” He slipped his hands under her wrapper, settling them on her hips to pull her close. His fingers seemed to burn through her night rail.
She raised a palm and placed it against his chest, inside the open placket of his shirt, where his bare skin was brown and warm. “Rand…” Shutting her eyes against the pain in his, she went to her toes for a kiss. Though his lips on hers felt achingly familiar, the caress didn’t bring the relief she was seeking.
The kiss was hot and desperate and set her heart to pounding, but it failed to make her forget that, barring a miracle, he was going to marry another woman.
He reached blindly to unravel her plait, his eyes still closed and his mouth still locked on hers. A pathetic little moan escaped her throat as she wondered if this was the last time she’d feel the loving tugs of his fingers freeing her hair, the last time he’d claim her lips with passionate abandon.
Finally, with a heartfelt sigh, he broke the kiss and swung her up into his arms.
“We cannot,” she said.
“There are other ways, Lily.” He
