My Fair Lily

by Meara Platt

  All worth it for Lily.

  Too bad he couldn’t bed her before he died. Then he wouldn’t mind so much when her uncle carved him into little pieces and fed him to the hogs.

  “Uncle George, why is he talking about hogs now?”

  CHAPTER 9

  “EWAN, LISTEN TO THIS,” Meggie said three days later, a grin on her face as she bounded into his room, dropped into the armchair beside his bed, and unfolded the London scandal sheet that passed for a newspaper. He was still at Eloise’s recovering from the injuries received during his brawl at Tattersalls, and though George Farthingale had ordered a regimen of rest and quiet, the days had been anything but that.

  A steady stream of Farthingales had passed through his door. George, of course, who was his doctor and in competent charge of his care, despite concerns that Ewan was lusting after his niece. John Farthingale, Lily’s father, apparently unaware that he was lusting after Lily, had stopped by to thank him for coming to Lily’s rescue. “No thanks necessary,” Ewan had muttered, feeling worse because he liked her father.

  John Farthingale was tall and in fit condition for a man in his mid to late fifties. His hair was dark but salted with gray, and he appeared remarkably calm for a man saddled with five independent-minded daughters and a houseful of relatives who had no intention of ever leaving—or so Eloise had remarked earlier with a roll of her eyes and a sad shake of her head.

  Ewan had made clear to Lily’s father that she had rescued him, probably saved his life with her quick thinking. “That sounds like my daughter,” he’d said with a chuckle. “Smarter than the lot of us by the age of three.”

  Then Lily’s sisters had arrived, supposedly to pay a call on Eloise and Meggie (who had moved in at Eloise’s for the duration of his recovery), but it came as no surprise to him when all four sisters entered his room at once and began chattering at him, completely ignoring that he was injured and not dressed. A circumstance that neither Dillie, Daisy, Laurel, nor Rose found awkward, inappropriate, or embarrassing for him or for them.

  Where was Eloise and why hadn’t she stopped them?

  Fortunately, when the Farthingale sisters had marched in he’d been under his covers and able to hastily don a nightshirt left at the foot of his bed, one that had belonged to Eloise’s late husband. Fortunately, Lily’s sisters hadn’t stayed long. Unfortunately, all had been fascinated by his ability to tell Lily apart from her twin sister. It wasn’t hard to do. Where was Lily anyway? Why hadn’t she been with them? You’d think he had performed a miracle as grand as the parting of the Red Sea, but all he’d done was recognize Dillie at once.

  How could they think he’d ever mistake her for Lily? Lily’s eyes were brighter and she always had a slightly dreamy, hopeful look about her that tugged at his heart. Dillie had an alert, clearly attentive look and often smirked. Lily never smirked. She smiled openheartedly.

  “Ewan, are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, Meg. My mind drifted. What were you saying?”

  “Here it is.” She laughed lightly, a distinct improvement from the weepy girl who’d joined him in London. “Lily must have written the item appearing in Lady Hardstocking’s ’It Is Rumored’ column. Grandfather will be apoplectic. What fun. She’s so brave, standing up to him despite his attempts to thwart her.”

  Ewan sat up. “Go on. What does it say?”

  “It is rumored that a certain despicable grandfather—”

  “Let me see that.” He grabbed the newspaper from Meggie’s hands. “A certain despicable grandfather has set his grandsons against each other in a fiendish and maniacal plot to control them. A plot that’s doomed to fail and certain to make his grandsons detest him more than they already do. And if he thinks the spineless, cowardly grandson doesn’t detest him, he ought to think again. It is suggested that despicable grandfather apologize to spineless, coward grandson as well as to brave, honorable grandson—”

  “She means you.”

  Ewan groaned. “…apologize to them... as soon as possible, or risk dying alone and unloved in that marble mausoleum he calls a home.” Ewan set the paper on his lap. “Is she demented? Grandfather will eat her alive.”

  “Then you’ll have to stop him.”

  “Och, Meggie. Easier said than done.”

  She moved to his bed and sat beside him, taking his hand. “She’s wonderful, Ewan. Do whatever you must to protect her. I’ll help in any way I can, even return to despicable grandfather’s residence to fulfill our promise. Not that I want to be there, but it seems wiser to remain close, the better to see what he’s scheming.”

  Ewan nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, Meg. I’m on the mend and should be up and about in another day or two. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I hoped you would.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Ugh, scruffy beard. I know you kept it to irk Grandfather, but you’re much better looking without it. When are you going to shave it off?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe today.”

  ***

  “Lily, how could you do such a thing?” Ashton said, shaking his head and tsking as Lily joined him in the Farthingale parlor the following Thursday afternoon.

  “What thing?” Lily motioned for him to take a seat across from her, which he did, though he remained on the edge of his chair and his lips were pursed in a tight, thin line. “I didn’t expect you today, Ashton. Didn’t you get my note? It’s only been five days since the Tattersalls incident and my parents haven’t allowed me to return to my research.”

  Nor had they allowed her to visit Ewan, though practically her entire family had found their way into his bedchamber over these past few days— even her youngest cousins, Harry and Charles, who’d spent hours yesterday playing marbles with Ewan. What must he think of the Farthingales and their shocking lack of boundaries? Ladies in his bedchamber. He and the boys rolling about on their knees, playing with their cat’s-eyes, daws, and agates. The thought of Ewan indulging four-year-old Harry and the adorably earnest seven-year-old Charles turned her insides soft as pudding. “I’m nowhere near finished with the report.”

  “I don’t care about that.” Ashton ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I heard about the incident. Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I was worried about you.”

  She smiled at him. “So thoughtful of you. Why are you fidgeting? You seem distressed. I’m truly sorry about the delay in finishing your research paper. I’ve extrapolated a wealth of information on the lemur colonies of Madagascar and how they’ve developed distinct mutations, even among themselves, on this isolated island. Did you know—”

  “Lily, hear me out.” His gaze shot to the door, as though worried someone would interrupt their conversation. There was a commotion by the front entry hall, but Lily dismissed it as more Farthingales coming in and out. Pruitt would have announced other callers. She returned her attention to Ashton when he cleared his throat. “The duke sent me to see you.”

  Her heart beat a little faster. “Does he wish to apologize to me?”

  “To you?” Ashton arched an eyebrow and let out a grim laugh. “You called him Despicable Grandfather and now the name has stuck. Simply everyone who’s anyone in London is calling him DG. Behind his back, of course. No one would ever dare say it to his face. Gad, Lily! What were you thinking? He’s angry and humiliated, and not at all the forgiving sort. He is now insisting that your name be stricken from this research paper that you’ve been helping me on.”

  She shot to her feet, her hands trembling and heart lurching into her throat. “But I’ve worked so hard on it.”

  “I know. You deserve all the credit, but he won’t allow it. He’s a mean old blighter, but he controls the board of directors of the Royal Society. They’ll do whatever he demands. If he says no further publications are to bear your name, then that’s the way it shall be.”

  “But it isn’t just my work that’s affected. You’re involved, too.”

  “He doesn’t care. He
’ll let my work sink into oblivion if he thinks you’re still working on it.”

  “He would do that to you? Delay the advancement of science merely to vent his spleen?”

  “Obviously.”

  “But he’d be hurting you most of all. Ashton, this is your life, your career and reputation at stake. If your monograph on the lemurs of Madagascar isn’t published, what will happen to you?”

  He rose and put his hands on her shoulders, no doubt to quell her agitation. “He knows that we’re friends and that my downfall will be a far worse punishment for you than anything he could possibly do to you. He’s that sort of man. Cruel and manipulative. You called him on it, and now he’s showing you just how cruel and manipulative he can be.”

  She shook her head, confused. How could she have made such a blunder? She’d poked the snake, expecting it to coil up and spring at her, but he’d gone for Ashton instead. “I ought to have thought of all possibilities. I never considered that he would turn on you. Please believe that I’d never purposely—”

  “I know, Lily. I also want you to know that I’ll survive with or without the Royal Society.”

  “How? It means too much to you. I’ll make it right. I promise.” She felt awful. How could she have done such a thing to a friend? Her dearest friend outside of her own family.

  He tightened his grip on her shoulders, still gentle as he shook her lightly. “But making it right would mean striking your name from everything we’ve done together. I can’t ask you to do it.”

  “And I can’t allow you to give up everything we’ve accomplished. We’re a good team, and I always enjoy our scientific collaborations, but I’ve brought this on myself and must now face the consequences. I alone. Not you.”

  He sighed. “Hopefully, the situation will improve over time. What if I were to tell you that I have a potential benefactor for my research?”

  “You do? Why didn’t you let on sooner? That’s wonderful.”

  “Well, the details aren’t quite settled. There’s a risk my benefactor will back out if my membership in the Royal Society is rescinded. But I’m hopeful that he won’t. There are decent men out there who value science and discovery, who respect a man’s ability to think, and who look to expand knowledge instead of stifle it for the sake of their own petty jealousies.”

  Her eyes rounded in surprise. “Ashton, I appreciate the gesture, but this is all the more reason why I can’t let you stand against the Royal Society. I won’t allow the duke to destroy your life and all our good work. It’s the science that matters, the advancement of man’s knowledge. I insist that you do as the duke asks. Strike my name from the monograph. Strike my name from all our collaborations.”

  “Lily, are you certain? It’s asking a lot of you.”

  “Intensifying hostilities will only get other innocent people hurt. It’s better this way. I’m certain, Ashton. I don’t mind at all. Really, I don’t.”

  He shook his head, but smiled. “Thank you, Lily. In truth, I’ve been turned inside out by the situation. I would never have forced you to buckle under to his demands, but it does take a great weight off my shoulders. I was hoping you’d agree to this resolution. It’s the only way to save all our hard work.”

  She kept the smile fixed on her face, though she was aching inside. This research wasn’t just an assignment for her, it was something she loved. “You may as well report the good news to the duke, let him know he’s won.”

  “I will.” Ashton was still holding her, his hands casually resting on her shoulders. “Lily, what are you thinking?”

  That she wished Ewan were here. If he’d been in Ashton’s situation, he would have confronted his grandfather, faced him like a man and not backed down to his threats. But Ewan was a stubborn Scot, with an even more stubborn protective streak. He would have given up his membership in the Royal Society and told all the old fossils on the board to stuff their demands somewhere unmentionable.

  He would have done it for her, even though he didn’t love her. He would have done it in his hot-headed, manly splendor, not caring what it meant for his career, for he was confident of his abilities and would not have doubted his ability to find a benefactor to support his research.

  But Ashton wasn’t like Ewan. He was an Englishman, bred to be polite and to respect those above his station. It wasn’t a matter of finances either, for Ashton’s father was a lord and a man of comfortable means. Ashton was his heir and would inherit his title and all the benefits that came with it. Though they never discussed finances, she knew his father had been generous and supportive of his endeavors. No, Ashton’s concern was scholarly in nature. Their research was important, and not even their friendship could be allowed to stand in the way.

  At the moment, she liked the Scottish way better. Proud, stubborn, stand one’s ground. No wonder Ewan held little admiration for the English. Sassenachs is what he called them, claiming he would never marry one of them. Unfortunately, that’s what she was. English born and raised. Not that she was thinking of marriage to Ewan. She wasn’t. Even though he made her insides flutter.

  Problem was, she didn’t make his insides flutter. The lame kiss she’d foisted on him had done nothing to heighten his desire, though it had sent her into raptures. Who would have thought that a slight pressure to his warm lips would have kindled a fire within her?

  She studied Ashton’s lips. They were a little thin. Quite pinched at the moment. Would he kiss her if she asked him? Did he ever think of marrying her? She had an ample trust fund that would be made available to her once she’d married. They could use it to endow his research. She’d never mentioned it to him. Perhaps she ought to mention it to him now.

  Ashton shifted uncomfortably. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.”

  “You haven’t heard the question.”

  “I don’t need to. There’s a glint in your eye that frightens me.”

  “Why are all men so afraid of me?” Ewan wasn’t. But he would return to Scotland in a few months, the promise to his dying father fulfilled, and Lily would never see him again. Why was life always complicated? Studying facts in books came much easier to her. Books didn’t threaten or scowl. Books were what you wanted them to be.

  “I’m not answering that.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “I must run. The duke is expecting my answer. I can’t be late.”

  She nodded.

  “You’re a good sport, Lily. In truth, I’m not feeling proud of myself right now. But we’ve made the right decision. Wait a few days, quietly finish the lemur monograph, and find a way to sneak it to me. The duke will never know.” He tucked a finger under her chin and raised her gaze to his. “Everything will work out. You’ll see in time.”

  “Don’t keep him waiting.” Ewan’s grandfather was as dangerous as a wounded boar in a frenzied rage. He would attack anything or anyone that got in his way. She didn’t want him to cause Ashton any further difficulty.

  She watched him leave, knowing she had made a muddle of things and this was the only way to fix the problem she’d created. Still, her decision made her physically ill. Her stomach roiled and her heart felt as though it were ripping in half. She hadn’t let Ashton know just how badly she hurt, but now that he was gone she wanted to have a good cry and let her tears spill out in buckets. Except she couldn’t find her handkerchief. She glanced around. Had it dropped from the cuff of her sleeve? She’d had it a moment ago.

  No sooner had Ashton left than Ewan appeared. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked, wondering why Pruitt had not announced him. Or perhaps he’d tried to, but she and Ashton were so deeply lost in their discussion that neither had noticed.

  “Long enough to hear about my grandfather’s latest mischief.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his dark eyes burned with an anger that was obviously directed at himself, though it should have been directed at his grandfather, perhaps a little toward Ashton for buckling under without a fight. No, she couldn’t blame Ash
ton for something that was entirely her fault. Still, he’d been awfully quick to accept her offer to make things right.

  “Lily, why didn’t you speak to me before you sent that article to Lady Hardstocking? I would have talked you out of doing something so foolish.”

  Her eyes began to tear, and though she tried to blink them away, they simply kept coming. “I wanted to see you, but my parents wouldn’t allow me near you. In truth, they won’t allow me out of the house until the end of the week, perhaps longer. I’m stuck here. Not quite punished, but not trusted to be let out into the world... or to be unleashed against the world. They think I’m a menace to society.”

  He shook his head and sighed, and then took her into his arms and swallowed her in his protective warmth. “You are that. But I happen to like blue-eyed menaces. I missed you.”

  She melted at the soft, heartfelt tone in his voice. “Did you?”

  “Yes, you impulsive little baggage. Although I would have talked you out of what you did, I still think it was brilliant. Meggie and I have been laughing about it for days. Still, your actions did have unintended consequences.”

  She nodded against his chest. “Yes. Ashton.”

  “I was thinking of you, all your hard work improperly credited. I’ll do what I can to fix the situation. I know how badly you’re aching, lass.”

  She cast him a smile, hopeful that he would talk to his grandfather but knowing it would do little good. “Ewan, I was so worried about you. I see now that I needn’t have been. You look wonderful.” She reached up and touched a hand to his bearded cheek. The bristles felt soft against her skin. “Dillie gave me daily reports about you. She insisted you were on the mend. I didn’t know whether or not to believe her. Your hand is no longer swollen. How is your rib?”

  “Healing. Still a little sore, but your uncle did a fine job of cleansing the wound.”