Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1)(50)
“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!”