Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1)(51)

“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.”