“I’ve learned that my father gave this to my mother on their wedding day. I was planning to save it for our own wedding day, but I want you to have it now.”
“Oh, Rand.”
If this wasn’t proof that he was certain they’d stay together, she didn’t know what was. Her heart seemed to melt as he clasped the chain around her neck. Looking down, she lifted the necklace, admiring all the diamonds and the beautiful enameled filigree design.
Her throat closed with emotion. “I’ll cherish it always,” she whispered.
It was all she could manage.
Still…when he reached for her stomacher tabs again, she pushed at his hands. “Not here,” she said, not an outright rejection nor an unreasonable one, either. The summerhouse had a brick floor and only the narrowest of wooden benches. “This is all so sudden and unbelievable to me, Rand. I want to hear how you convinced your father.”
He drew a deep breath, clearly struggling for control, glancing around as though he felt trapped. “All right, then. But let’s walk.”
They strolled across the wide lawn and over the bridge and along the Thames. As his story poured out, Lily felt his hand in hers slowly relax.
“You were brilliant,” she said when he’d told her everything.
“I was desperate.” He squeezed her hand and smiled.
“And how has your father taken it?”
“We spent over an hour riding here—maybe the longest time alone together ever. He expressed regret that he’d never seen Alban for the evil man he was. He seems…repentant.”
“You like him more than you thought.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say like. We’ve a long history between us. But the idea of living with him isn’t nearly as repugnant as I would have thought last month.”
“Will we have to? Live with him, I mean?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “Do you imagine we have a choice? He’s certainly assuming we will. Hawkridge will someday be mine, and I’ve a lot to learn about handling it.”
“Oh, Rand, you can handle anything you put your mind to. Your father has years left to live. Why should you give up the life you love now?”
He looked as though he wanted to believe her—but couldn’t. “It’s a matter of responsibility. Once I would have agreed with you, but now that I’ve been home…well, there’s Margery—”
“Margery will be with Bennett.”
“There’s Etta and all the others. They’re depending on me, and I cannot let them down. Oxford…” His voice turned wistful for a moment before he straightened his shoulders, his hand gripping hers tighter. “This is the way it must be.”
“But your professorship, your house.”
“There’s nothing for it. I’ll have to sell the house.”
“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 intense gray 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 for you?” he asked. “I’m burning for you, Lily. All these days and hours…”
She was burning for him, too. He felt so warm and solid against her body, she could almost believe they really would stay 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.”
“If you don’t,” he warned playfully, “I’ll wear you down anyway.”
Since that wasn’t an altogether unpleasing idea, she let it slide by without a retort.
SIXTY-NINE
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. The research—”
“Lily,” Rand started.
“He can research at
