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“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.”
