by HELEN HARDT
When he finally released her, looking into her beautiful face tormented with ecstasy, savoring her spicy aroma, her sweet milky taste, a decision came to him quickly.
He could not let her go.
He would not let her go.
No other man would know her as he did. He would possess her body and mind. Her heart. Her soul. He would do whatever necessary to keep Lily at Laurel Ridge. With him. Forever.
He crawled atop her and thrust himself into her body, making her his the only way he knew how.
Chapter 11
A brisk knock on her chamber door startled Lily. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as she lay down after Daniel had returned her to her chamber early that morning. Rose had been sleeping soundly and hadn’t stirred when Lily came in. Rose got up and went to the door. A housemaid stood there, feather duster in hand.
“Yes, what is it?” Rose asked.
“I beg your pardon, milady. Your parents want to see you and Lady Lily in the private sitting room of their chamber right away.”
Rose yawned. “Why? What time is it anyway?”
“It’s half past nine, milady, and I don’t know what they want. They bid me to fetch you and your sister. A servant is fetching your brother at the bachelor house.”
“What on earth?” Lily stumbled out of bed and joined Rose at the door.
“Mummy and Papa want to see us in their sitting room,” Rose said. “I don’t know why.”
“Yes, I heard,” Lily said. “But I’m too tired. I’m going back to bed.”
“But milady,” the maid pleaded. “I was bid to tell you to come quickly!”
“Why? Is something wrong?” Rose asked.
“No, milady. Your parents are well. But they said the matter was of utmost importance.”
“We’d better go, Lily,” Rose said. “They wouldn’t send for us this early if it wasn’t important.”
“You go, and then you can come back and tell me what the devil is so urgent to wake me up at this hour.”
“Lily…”
“Oh for God’s sake, Rose, all right.” She turned to the housemaid. “I require a bath. Could you send someone to attend me?”
“There’s isn’t time for that,” the housemaid said. “But I’ll bring you a basin of steaming water right away.” She hurried off.
“No time for a bath?” Lily rolled her eyes and began to brush her long thick hair. A maid returned with hot water for their two basins, and Lily and Rose washed quickly and helped each other dress in their best morning outfits. They braided each other’s hair and pinned it, and when they were both satisfied with the results, they headed down the hall to their parents’ chamber in the corner.
The Earl of Ashford was seated behind a mahogany desk, the spectacles that he used for reading perched on his nose. Before him were stacks of documents. The countess sat next to the desk, soft and pretty in her yellow morning garments. Thomas, dapper in a grey morning coat, stood next to her, nibbling on a croissant and drinking tea.
The earl looked up. “Lily, Rose, do have a seat. I trust you haven’t broken your fast yet?”
“No, Papa,” they answered in unison.
“See to my daughters,” he said to the maid.
The maid prepared plates for them from a tray on a buffet table in the corner while Lily and Rose sat down with Thomas on the sofa. Lily looked at bread and fruit on the plate handed to her. Her stomach churned. She didn’t feel the least bit hungry.
“Papa,” she began, “what is going—”
“In a moment, Lily,” Ashford said, glancing over some papers in his hands.
The maid brought Lily and Rose steaming cups of tea. Lily gnawed on a croissant but it tasted like saw dust. What on earth was wrong? They sat in silence, waiting for the earl to speak.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “I had a visitor this morning,” he said. “A very important one.”
“Who was it, Papa?” Rose asked.
“Well”—he cleared his throat again—“it seems that I have received a request for one of my daughters’ hands in marriage.”
My, Lord Evan certainly works fast. Lily turned to her sister. “Congratulations, Rose!”
“My goodness. I—” Rose began.
“The offer isn’t for Rose, Lily,” the earl interrupted. “It’s for you.”
Lily opened her eyes wide and she jumped off the couch. “For me? Who in the world would offer for me?”
Ashford cleared his throat one more time and adjusted his spectacles. “The Duke of Lybrook.”
Daniel? Daniel? “The duke?” Lily gasped, grabbing for the arm of the sofa. What was going on?
“He came to me this morning with the proposal,” the earl said. “It seems you’ve made quite an impression on him.”
“I’d say so,” Thomas said.
“Keep quiet, Thomas,” Lily said. “Papa, I’m sorry. I don’t wish to marry.”
“That’s quite irrelevant, Lily,” the earl said. “I’ve already accepted his offer.”
“Fine.” Lily plunked her bottom back on the sofa. “Then you marry him.”
“Lily!” the countess admonished.
“Be still, Flora,” the earl said. Then, “Lily, you’ve made no secret of your feelings about the coming season. This arrangement will spare you being displayed like a pork chop, as you like to put it. Besides, you’re a smart girl. I don’t have to explain to you the advantages of an alliance between the Lybrook and Ashford houses.”
“Alliance?” Lily’s face heated. “If this is about money, why don’t you put me on the auction block and sell me to the highest bidder?”
“Lily, my goodness,” the countess said. “We’ve no need of Lybrook’s fortune, and he has no need of ours.”
“No, he doesn’t,” the earl continued. “He has already refused to take your dowry.”
“Then what is the point of all of this nonsense? Why should I be forced to marry?”
“There are more important considerations than money, Lily. An alliance between our two families will have…political benefits.”
“So you’ll marry me off for the sake of politics? How charming.”
“Lily”—the countess’s voice was warm and soothing—“your father and I have always wanted what is best for you. The duke’s offer is a generous one. He is a powerful man, and a kind one. You could do a lot worse.”
“That is for me to decide, is it not?”
“No, it’s not,” the earl said. “Lybrook and I have already reached a betrothal agreement.”
“What?” Lily screamed.
“Lower your voice please,” her father warned. “I’ll not have our business aired like dirty laundry around this estate.”
“Betrothal agreement?” Lily seethed, her pulse racing. “This is simply barbaric. Rose, Thomas, tell them.”
Neither Rose nor Thomas spoke.
“Fat lot of help you two are,” Lily said, scoffing. “Papa, you’ll just have to break the agreement. I’m not getting married to anyone.”
“You’ll do as I tell you,” the earl said. “Lybrook is a good man.”
“He’s a rake.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.
“A good man,” the earl repeated. “He seems to have a genuine affection for you.”
“Lily,” her mother said, “you’ll be a duchess, and the mother of the next duke.”
“Yes, I’m sure he’ll have me barefoot on my back in no time, pushing out his brats.”
“Lily, please!”
“Let her get it off of her chest, Flora,” the earl said. “She’ll come to terms with the arrangement soon enough.”
“I’ll never come to terms with this. You and the duke seem to think you have the right to plan my whole life for me. Well, you don’t! There are things I want to do. What about my art? My writing? I want to travel! Damn you! Damn all of you!” She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles white with tension.
“This is ridiculous,” the earl said. “I’ve allowed your
silly infatuation with art and writing up to now because it seemed to amuse you, but you really didn’t believe that I would tolerate a spinster artist for a daughter, did you? You have a duty to the Ashford name to marry and carry on our line.
“That is Thomas’s duty, not mine!”
“Keep me out of this,” her brother said.
“I…oh, bloody hell!” She unclenched her fists, and a trickle of blood ran down her left palm where a fingernail had dug into her fair skin.
“You have much to offer the duke,” Lord Ashford said. “You are intelligent. Talented. Beautiful. And you have the Ashford name. But if you insist on talking like a sailor on shore leave—”
“Lily,” Lady Ashford interrupted, “I’ve seen you with the duke at the evening meal. You and he share an ease together that… I don’t know, you both seem to smile a lot. I guess it was my impression that you had affection for him as well.”
“Enjoying his company at dinner is not sufficient reason to shackle myself to him for eternity,” Lily said dully.
“If you’ll just give this arrangement a chance, dear, I think it could benefit everyone.”
“Everyone but me!” Lily cried. “I won’t stand for it!”
“You will,” the earl said. “You have no choice.”
“Papa, please!” Then, “It just so happens that… Oh!” Lily’s blood boiled. She wanted to throw in his face that she couldn’t ever marry, that she was ruined, but that fact was irrelevant. It was the culprit who wanted to marry her.
“You need a husband,” Lord Ashford continued. “Since you’ve made it clear that you have no intention of finding one on your own, this is a godsend, frankly. He’s a well esteemed peer from a wealthy and respected house. He needs a wife of good lineage, and he wants you.”
“I suppose I’ll make an adequate broodmare,” Lily said dryly. “My God, he has a lot of nerve.”
“Do you have any idea how many women would love to be in your shoes?” the countess said.
Lily took off her morning shoes and threw them across the room, one narrowly missing her father’s ear. “They can all have my shoes!” she bellowed. “I won’t be one of his strumpets, or his mistress!”
“I’ve had just about enough of this.” Ashford strode toward her.
The countess waved him off. “Lily”—she sat down and took her daughter’s hand in her own—“calm down. He’s not asking you to be his mistress. Goodness, he’s asking you to be his wife.”
“While he keeps a dozen mistresses, no doubt.” Lily’s eyes filled with tears. “And he’s not asking me. He and Papa are telling me.”
“This is a very common way for marriages to be arranged.” The countess rubbed the palm of Lily’s hand with her thumb. “You know that.”
“I don’t give two figs about what is common, Mummy,” Lily said, weeping. “I don’t want to marry. Not now. Not ever.”
“The agreement has been made,” the earl said. He strode from the room briskly.
The countess continued to hold Lily’s hand. “You’ll come to accept this in time. The two of you will have a good and solid life together. He can give you everything you want.”
“I already have everything I want.”
“Rose, Thomas,” Lady Ashford said, “take Lily back to her chamber. She needs to rest.”
“Thank you both for your help,” Lily said as they walked from their parents suite. “Why, I don’t know how I could have made it through this without your support.”
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Rose said. “I didn’t know what to say. But you do like the duke, don’t you?”
“Lybrook’s a good man, Lily,” Thomas said. “He was always a good man, even when he was a skirt chaser, but since his father and brother were killed, he’s…different.”
“How would you know? He’s been on the continent for a year.”
“There’s been talk at the bachelor house. Don’t get me wrong. Papa should have discussed this with you first. I wouldn’t be any happier if it were me.”
“But it will never be you, will it Thomas?” Lily said. “As a man, you can choose whom you will marry.”
“Damn it, Lily, I didn’t make the rules.”
“You can both go to hell,” Lily said. “I have business to attend to.”
“Where are you going?” Rose asked.
“To see His Grace,” Lily said, “and don’t even think about trying to stop me.”
“Dear God,” Rose said.
“Dear God is right,” Thomas agreed. “Poor Lybrook won’t know what hit him.”
* * *
Daniel was relaxing in his leather chair wearing a dressing robe, his face half covered in shaving soap, when Lily barged into his suite without knocking. Putney stood before him holding a razor in his hand.
“My lady,” he said. “This is highly—”
“Don’t worry about it, Putney,” Lily said sardonically. “Haven’t you heard the good news? I am the duke’s betrothed.”
“Your Grace?”
“It’s all right, Putney,” Daniel said. “You can go.”
“Here I’ll take that.” Lily grabbed the razor out of Putney’s hand. “Shaving is a wifely duty, is it not?” Then, when Putney had left, “Although I doubt you want me anywhere near your neck with a sharp object, Your Grace.”
Daniel didn’t think Lily would actually hurt him, but he didn’t want her waving a razor around. She had worked up quite a head of steam and she might accidentally harm herself. He wiped the soap from his face with a towel and stood. “Give that to me, Lily.”
“No.”
“Come on.” He took her hand and pried her fingers from the handle of the razor. “Let’s talk about this like adults.”
“Why should I talk about anything like an adult? I’m not being treated like one. Others are making my decisions for me. Decisions that should be mine alone to make.”
“Lily—”
“Damn it, Daniel, we had an agreement.”
“An agreement?”
“You know how I feel about marriage.”
“I was hoping you might change your mind.”
“Change my mind? Are you insane? You thought you could change my mind by forcing me into marriage? You don’t know me at all.”
Daniel sighed. He did know her. He would have talked to her, asked her to stay with him, had he not been afraid she might decline. Arranging a betrothal agreement with her father was the only way he could be certain of keeping her. “Maybe I should have talked to you first.”
“Maybe? Maybe?” She raised her hands in the air. “I won’t do it, Daniel. I won’t be forced into some sham of a marriage for the sole purpose of carrying on your noble line!”
“Well, I do need an heir,” Daniel said. “And your bloodline is excellent.”
“Yes, I suppose I’m an acceptable purebred bitch, aren’t I?” She stood, indignant, her fists clenched, her face flushed.
God, she was the most beautiful woman on earth.
“You sound like you’re breeding horses or dogs. Why didn’t you set your sights on Rose, then? She could have given you a gaggle of blond-haired babes. With me, half of them are likely to be dark.”
Beautiful, yes. And headstrong. He had to have her. “I don’t care what color of hair my heir has. Good God.”
“Tell me, why are you so set on marrying me? Why would you want a wife like me? I’ll make your life hell, and you know it.”
Daniel reached for her hand.
She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”
“All right.” He gave her a moment. He didn’t know how to tell her why he wanted to marry her. He wasn’t exactly sure himself. All he knew was that he could not, would not, let her go. He was afraid of what he might become without her. She had changed him. He no longer wanted the same things out of life. He wanted more. He wanted her.
“Well?”
“Lily, I’m the duke now. I have responsibilities.”
“And these responsibilities includ
e forcing an unwilling woman into marriage?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then you’ll let me go?”
“No. Er, what I mean is, my responsibilities are…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I told you, I need an heir.”
“But why me, Daniel? Why does it have to be me?”
“I…hold you in high esteem.”
“How touching.”
Daniel winced. Was it possible that she didn’t care for him at all? He could hardly believe it. Their lovemaking had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. They had shared so much else, too. She had to feel something for him, and he intended to find out exactly what. He cleared his throat. “Tell me, Lily. Why did you let me make love to you?”
“We’re not talking about that,” she said. “It has nothing to do with this subject.”
“Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t, but I want to know. Why did you stay with me? You were innocent. You knew who and what I was. You knew I would ruin you.”
“Please don’t say you’re marrying me because of some false sense of honor.”
“That isn’t what I’m saying, damn it. I want to know why you let me make love to you.”
“Education and experience,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“Education and experience?” A brick landed in his gut. Was that really all he was to her? “Well, I hope it was all you thought it should be.”
“It was acceptable,” she said, “but it was no reason to marry.”
“All right, Lily. Then there’s another reason.” He set about to hurt her as she had hurt him. “You could be breeding.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But you promised me you would take care of that.” Her dark eyes shone with shock…and terror.
“I didn’t,” he said. “I forgot.”
“You forgot?”
“Yes, it didn’t seem important at the time. You didn’t seem to care. At least, you never mentioned it.”
“Oh!” She clenched her fists, briskly walking to the table where they had shared their small meal the previous evening. She picked up the nearly empty wine bottle and hurled it, barely missing one of her own watercolors. Burgundy liquid dripped down the elegantly papered walls as shards of green glass scattered across Daniel’s oriental rug.
