“It was less than a year after your father ended his relationship with Catherine. She died in a rather freak carriage accident not three weeks after the abrupt end.”
Liliah shook her head. “He likely harbors some misbegotten anger toward my mother for not dying sooner. It explains much. But does not excuse any of it.”
“Your mother’s death would have rectified the mess he had created, had it been earlier, yes. But I rather think he resents not only your mother, but you two daughters as well.”
“I’ve known that for some time. Mother protected us from it till she caught pneumonia.” Liliah sighed, then her thoughts turned to Samantha. “My sister! My father already spoke of an arrangement for her marriage and—”
“Yes, I know. I learned of it tonight. And I’ve been thinking on that front . . . and have an idea.” Lucas arched a brow. “But it would require the utmost secrecy. But let us finish this vein of thought first before we move on to the next. I have reason to believe that Lord Greywick knows something of Catherine’s indiscretion and perhaps even the carriage accident. With that, I think he is blackmailing your father to secure your dowry for his estate.”
Liliah frowned. “My dowry? I didn’t take Greywick as a fortune hunter for his son.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. And Greywick’s estate is bordering on poverty. He used his information to secure the best source of income available, and the most legal. A duke’s daughter.”
Liliah’s eyes widened, then she frowned. “But why then, would he not allow Meyer to seek Rebecca’s hand? They are quite secure—”
“Her family suffered a large loss recently.”
“Dear Lord. Am I nothing but a pawn?” Liliah’s chest heaved in anger and she pushed off from her chair and paced about the room, fuming. “How dare he, how dare Lord Greywick! Damn them all!” She all but shouted, then covered her mouth and glanced toward the door. Her heart pounded fiercely for several moments at her loud outburst, and then she flickered her gaze to Lucas.
“Well, how do we stop this?”
Lucas bit back an amused grin. “You’re quite fetching when angry, my love.”
“Focus, Luc,” Liliah ground out.
He chuckled, then sobered as he continued. “They are going to secure a special license to make the . . . transaction quicker. Greywick is anxious to get ahold of your dowry, and your father is anxious to destroy any damning evidence.”
“So . . . how do we eliminate the problem?”
Lucas grinned, then withdrew a piece of paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it. “We beat them at their own game.”
Liliah walked toward it, her eyes slowly taking in the script across the top.
Doctors’ Common.
It was a special license.
“I suppose you’ll say that I didn’t specify when you’d marry me . . .” he teased.
Liliah grinned, caressing lightly the important document that would both set her free and secure her future. “Yes, but under the circumstances, I’m willing to make an exception.”
“Brilliant.” He folded up the document and tucked it away. “For this to work, I need to make several arrangements, one of which is for your sister. Can you convince her to write something for me? I need a letter, something that mentions her running away to . . . the Americas. That should be difficult enough. Have you any connections there?”
Liliah nodded slowly. “My mother has a cousin who lives in Boston.”
“Then fabricate a story. We need your father thinking that Savannah is on her way to Boston, and I shall take care of the rest.” He stood. “Do you trust me?”
Liliah nodded. “Yes.”
“Then all will be well. Bring the letter tomorrow to Bond Street. Do you think you can make that happen?”
Liliah nodded. “Yes, I have to check on the progress of my wedding dress. I have a fitting.”
“Seems we have all the luck then, my dear. I’ll find you. Be sure to take your sister,” he added.
“I will.” Liliah closed the distance between them. “Thank you. You were able to do what I thought was impossible.” She met his earnest gaze.
“It seems that love truly does make all things possible.” He hitched a shoulder.
