The door closed behind her, leaving him with bloodied hands, a shattered teacup, and her fallen glove.
Chapter Two
Two years earlier
“You will be pleased to know that I have found a husband for you,” her father said. “Lord Davonshire has made an offer for your hand, and I have accepted on your behalf.”
Lily was aghast at his statement. From the pleased look upon George’s face, he believed she should be delighted by his arrangement. “You did what?”
“I spoke with Lord Chesham, and you will marry his son, John.” Her father had become close friends with Davonshire’s father, the Marquess of Chesham, over the past year. She could only imagine that the pair of them had cooked up this scheme as a means of joining their families in marriage.
But she would have none of it.
“No, Father, I will not marry him.” She had met the gentleman only twice, and Davonshire was practically a stranger. Not only that, but she had been in love with Matthew Larkspur, the Earl of Arnsbury, since she was sixteen. Her father knew this, and so did James.
She believed with her whole heart that one day, she would marry Lord Arnsbury. He was older than she was, but that didn’t matter. He had danced with her at every ball and had even kissed her twice. The memory of those kisses sobered her, for the heated pressure of his mouth upon hers had hinted of far deeper pleasures. She had felt the intensity flowing through her blood, tempting her toward surrender.
“Lily,” her father interrupted. “Are you paying attention to a word I’ve said?”
She shook the idle thoughts away. “I’m sorry.”
Her father straightened and narrowed his gaze at her. “Lord Davonshire is the heir to a marquessate. He’s decent looking, the same age as you are, and quite wealthy.”
With that, George eased himself into a wingback chair, propping his leg upon a footstool. Though he tried to remain cheerful, she didn’t miss the shadow of pain in his eyes. Her father had fallen ill over the past few months and though he had seen countless doctors, he refused to admit that anything was wrong.
He leaned back and added, “The wedding will take place before Christmas.” He rubbed at his leg and sighed.
Lily bit her lower lip, trying to hide her exasperation. Her father believed that marriage was meant for increasing the family’s wealth. Were it up to him, he would simply choose the richest suitor and marry her off. He truly couldn’t understand why she wanted to follow her heart instead of her head.
She tried another tactic, though it was slightly unfair. “Why not ask Rose? She’s older and ought to marry first.”
“Davonshire doesn’t want to marry a woman older than himself. And he specifically asked for you.” Her father’s chest puffed out. “Lily, be reasonable. You won’t get a better offer.”
“I already have,” she blurted out, though it wasn’t true. But it was the only way she could think of to distract him. “Lord Arnsbury has asked to marry me.” Desperation edged her lie for she didn’t know what else to say.
Her father made a face and sighed. “Why would you settle for an earl when you could have a marquess?”
“Because I love him. And he loves me.”
Or at least, she wanted him to. Lily knew that Lord Arnsbury cared about her a great deal, and perhaps he would love her after they were married. It was quite possible.
“I cannot marry Lord Davonshire,” she insisted. “Tell him I am flattered by his offer, but no.”
Her father rubbed at his leg again, wincing when he touched a tender spot. His expression grew serious and hardened. “I will not turn down this offer, Lily. Though I realize you are infatuated by Arnsbury, he’s too old for you. And you hardly know him.”
“I’ve known him for two years, and he’s James’s best friend. I don’t know Lord Davonshire at all.” It was time to stand up for herself and put her foot down. “I am sorry, Father, but I will not stand back and let you manipulate my life.”
The iron cast to her father’s face revealed that he intended to go through with this match and would not be swayed. “I am your father, and I am responsible for your future, Lily. Iwillensure that you have someone to take care of you. And Rose, too, once I can find a suitable husband for her.”
“There is time, Father,” she stalled. “Just let it be.” She was only eighteen years old, hardly a spinster on the shelf. “We will speak of this later.”
He muttered something beneath his breath, about the lack of time. She stared at him with a sudden realization. “What did the doctors say about your leg, Father?”
He grimaced. “They said I’ve been eating foods that are too rich. Nothing to worry your pretty head about.” He braved a smile, but she wasn’t so certain. She was about to ask again, when James entered the drawing room. Something about his demeanor made Lily uneasy, though she could not say why.
He glanced at their father and said, “I came to tell you that I am leaving in a few days.”
George straightened in his chair and shook his head. “You cannot leave, James. There is too much to be done here.”
