“Oh, I suppose you’re right.” She started toward him. “But as a mother, it’s hard to stand by and watch our Lily suffer.”
“I hurt for our daughter, too, but the boy will come through.” Looking down, he opened the book. “You picked a bright one in Rand.”
“I intend for all of our girls to wed highly intelligent men.”
“Our girls…” His head jerked up. “Our girls were reading this?”
“Certainly not,” she fibbed, closing the distance between them to distract him with a kiss. “They barely glanced at it. Didn’t you hear Violet say they misunderstood what An Antidote Against Melancholy was about? They took the title to mean it was a treatise on how to cheer a poor girl like Lily. When they found otherwise, they shut the book immediately.”
He looked puzzled. “I didn’t hear this.”
“So sad that you cannot hear better.” She sighed prettily and sat herself on his lap, turning to run her fingernails down his shirtfront. “Will you sing me one of these songs? I do imagine it could put me in the mood.”
“In the middle of the afternoon?” He laughed, reaching around her to flip the pages. “I shall sing, then, yes indeed.”
Watching his eyes widen as he read some lyrics to himself, she smiled. “I’ve been thinking, darling.”
“Hmm?” He turned another page, humming a tune under his breath.
“I’m thinking we must keep Rand and Lily apart. They shouldn’t be allowed alone together, not until after they’re wed. You were right to be relieved she’s not with child, and we must take steps to see that doesn’t happen.” Her sigh this time was heartfelt. “I was so certain they would end up together, but heaven only knows how all of this will work out. Joseph, are you listening?”
He looked up, his lips curving as his gaze trailed toward the bed. “Of course, my love, whatever you say.”
Raising the book, he cleared his throat and began to sing.
FIFTY-NINE
RAND SHOWED UP in Trentingham’s entry hall days before Lily thought he would, and the moment she saw his face, she knew he had a new plan. Even from the top of the stairs, she could see hope shining in his eyes.
Her heart leapt in response. Without a thought for her sister standing beside her, she lifted her skirts and ran down and into his arms. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”
“I have, yes.” He kissed her exuberantly before continuing. “There’s no guarantee, of course, that it will work out, or that even if it does, the evidence will convince the marquess, but—”
“Bloody hell,” Kit Martyn interrupted from the doorway. “Tell her your idea already.”
“Yes,” Rose yelled down the stairs. “Go on, tell us.” She began walking down to meet them. “I’m likely to die of curiosity. We’ve all been wracking our brains for a solution—Lily and I, Violet and our friend Judith—and I want to hear what you’ve come up with that our superior female minds missed.”
Rand laughed. “It’s Alban’s diary.”
“Pardon?” Lily and Rose said together.
“As long as I knew him, Alban always kept a journal detailing all his nefarious doings. If he continued the habit, all I have to do is find it, and I’d wager his plans to kill Bennett Armstrong will be written there in his own hand. No matter how much the marquess wants to believe in his innocence, it will be impossible to refute that.”
“If Bennett is telling the truth,” Rose put in.
Yes, if, Lily thought. But he’d seemed so sincere. And she had to believe him, because proving his innocence was the only chance she and Rand had.
“Finding the diary could work against you instead of helping,” Rose pointed out. “If it’s found and there’s no mention of ill will towards the man, the marquess will consider that to be proof Alban was innocent. Even should witnesses come forward, he’ll disbelieve them and insist on hanging Bennett—and Rand will have to marry Margery to save her love’s life.”
It was an intelligent observation. Annoyingly intelligent. And depressingly true, but Lily couldn’t think about that now.
Hope had taken flight and refused to be grounded.
She clutched Rand’s arm. “Do you really think you can find Alban’s journal?”
“For all we know, it could be sitting in plain view in his bedchamber.” Rand crossed his fingers. “If not, I’ll turn the house upside down if need be.”
“And inside out,” Kit added. “I’m going along to help.”
“Thank you,” Lily said, impulsively giving him a hug. “I’m going, too.”
“Lily.” Rand stared at the oak-planked floor for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “I came to tell you my plans as I had promised, not to take you with me. Before I left, the marquess specifically instructed me not to bring you back.”
Although she wasn’t really surprised, Lily felt crushed. Had the man hated her that much?
“Nonsense,” said Rose. “The Ashcroft motto is Question Convention, and Lily will do as she likes. You cannot leave her here languishing while you men have all the fun. Besides, she could very well notice something you miss. Women’s minds work in different ways than men’s.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Kit put in dryly, but Lily noticed that he looked toward Rose with approval. “She’s right, Rand. Lily should come along. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
“But I never—” Rand started.
“Never say never.” Kit raised a dark, meaningful brow. “Didn’t you declare your father was done dictating your life? Fourteen years ago.”
Rand’s shoulders went back. “My concern is Lily, not myself. She’s going to receive a rather chilly welcome.”
“Then I’d best bring my cloak,” she said, smiling when Rose laughed.
“Wait!” Chrystabel appeared out of nowhere as usual. “Where do you suppose you’re off to?”
“Hawkridge Hall. Rand has a plan, and—”
“Not overnight. I want you back here to sleep, Lily.”
Lily frowned. Mum had never cared about such things before.
“I know Lord
