“I have been under substantial pressure to marry.” She frowned as she considered her odd predicament. “Not that my brother would ever turn me out. He’d never do such a thing. But my mother refuses to allow my younger sisters to come out until I marry, and I have no wish to—ever.” She couldn’t very well explain her natural distrust of the institution. “The ad suggested eventual financial independence. Such a prospect… is an appealing idea.” More than that— it was a spectacular one.
After Lillian’s father’s death, her mother had remarried. Lillian and her sisters had only worn black upon the scoundrel’s death because their mother had insisted.
They ought to have celebrated.
The gentleman sitting across from her had watched closely as she spoke. She half expected the sound of her beating heart to cut through the silence that followed her admission.
“I have a sister,” he said suddenly. “If I cannot sire a son, she will be vulnerable to the whims of my legal heir.” He appeared almost haunted at the admission. “I cannot allow that to happen.”
Lillian, unfortunately, did not require a good deal of imagination to picture what sort of man his heir must be. As if the knowledge of his impending demise wasn’t tragic enough, he would have this worry hanging over him.
“What if… a child is born but not a male?” It would be tragic, really, to go to such lengths and meet with failure. “What if… such an alliance fails to produce any offspring at all?”
“My family, my ancestors, have had no trouble siring males. My present dilemma results from our lack of ability to keep them alive.” He lifted one side of his mouth in a sheepish smile that sent an odd warmth flowing through Lilian. “I have an emergency plan that would be implemented if such a situation arises.”
“How old is your sister?”
“Ten and seven.” He stared down at the dog at his feet. “I’ve wracked not only my brain, but several legal ones as well in search of any legal means to ensure her security, to ensure she is safe.” And then he swallowed hard.
Was it possible Lillian was actually contemplating doing this? For the past few years, pretending she was actively shopping on the marriage mart, she’d felt adrift, purposeless. She loved her nephews something fierce, and yet they had several aunts and caretakers, not to mention loving parents.
Could she help this man?
An heir would require legitimacy. Legitimacy would require they be married.
“How long?” she couldn’t help but ask. “How long do you have?” His illness must be the reason for mentioning squeamishness in the ad. Would she be able to watch this kind gentleman weaken and eventually die? She’d been a child when her real father passed. When he’d returned from the war, he’d already begun to sicken. And yet she distinctly remembered the scent of death. It had hovered in his room for weeks before he’d succumbed.
Her throat thickened.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The doctors had spared him such knowledge then, so that he could live out the remainder of his days without counting them one by one.
“I don’t imagine you’ve any wish to delay then.” It would be better for him to see his child before his death—to give him peace in the end but also because… he would be a father.
But there was something else she needed to know. “And once you’ve passed?”
“The mother of my son will go on to have all the benefits that had been afforded to her before my death… without the burden of having a husband.” He met her gaze again. “I would only ask that you guide my sister through society.”
“And the child?” She could hardly believe she was considering this.
In that moment, he stared into her eyes. “I would rather not prolong this process… this insane search. You may have guessed that I had not intended on posting such an ad and doubt I would ever have actually resorted to doing so.” He shook his head. “But I am not in a position to delay.” Although he’d said earlier he couldn’t see her clearly, he pinned his gaze upon her steadily. “I barely know you, but I would have to trust you. I would simply ask, simply hope, that you would raise the child to be honorable and of good character. Tutors will take over his teachings eventually, but you would always be his mother.”
Lillian nodded. He seemed trustworthy somehow. She didn’t understand it and yet her instincts didn’t usually fail her. She’d never liked her stepfather, even as a child. Nor had she any fond thoughts for the gentleman her stepfather had wanted her to marry, Lord Emery, the Earl of Rothberg’s heir. She’d since learned that Emery was an itinerate gambler who regularly frequented brothels.
Her mother had married the Duke of Crawford after being assured by all of her friends that he would make an excellent husband and father. He’d been highly recommended by upstanding members of theton.
She did not think she was exaggerating in that, before long, she and her sisters had come to think of him as something of a monster.
Lillian licked her lips. “You wish to act in haste?”
He nodded. “The sooner, the better.”
She trailed her gaze from his thick, unruly dark brown hair, to his clear blue eyes, past the strong chin she could barely make out beneath his stubble, and then down to his hands. His hands looked strong, and yet they’d been gentle with his dog.
“Will you do it?” he asked, his voice sounding gruffer than before.
Lillian had only ever done the responsible thing. She’d rarely acted in haste and when she did, on those rare occasions, she only ever did so after garnering considerable council. She’d watched over her two younger sisters and guided them toward decent and upstanding behavior.
