Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"You can't be serious, Lily?" Kate dragged her upstairs to Charlotte's morning parlor. "You don't know that man. He could be perverse or a murderer. He could be... well, he could take advantage of you and leave you a ruined woman."

"Not every man..." Lily stopped short of finishing her sentence. Kate did not need another reminder, and of those who stood in the room, she knew better than anyone what would happen because of a scandal with a devious man.

"We do not know him. Or his brother." Charlotte sat down on the cream satin settee. "You cannot fault us for looking after your wellbeing. This was certainly a shock, and I believed we had put this past us after you first mentioned the idea. We love you, Lily."

Kate paced by the large, arched window, angrily swatting a gold tassel holding back the long powder blue curtains. "Were you going to tell us? Or were you going to run away and leave nothing but a note?"

At that, Lily balked.

"I waited two years to be married at Felton's request. I won't…" Lily dragged in a breath, attempting to stem the panic sweeping up inside of her. "I won't ever have that time again. I am nearly twenty-five years old. If I am to marry, then I must do it soon before I am put fi rmly on the shelf and forced to waste my life away here with my family in Cumbria."

She glanced up at the large crystal chandelier overhead, distracted by the swirling prisms dancing on the ceiling as the morning sun slipped through the curtains. Something about the happy, tangled mess of rainbows made her smile.

"That doesn't mean you should throw the time that is ahead of you at the feet of a stranger either."

She met Charlotte's steady stare. "I won't ever wait for another man. I will not put my life on hold. I…" Lily balled her fists. "I will decide what will become of my fate now."

"I only ask that you consider waiting a few weeks for this fresh heartbreak to mend before jumping into a situation you may not be prepared for. Or worse, a situation that doesn't suit you." Charlotte reached out and plucked a drooping peony petal free, then tossed her hands to her side, exasperated. "Once married, it is near impossible to leave him."

"The man asked for a wife, and I am more than capable of fulfilling that request."

"That man isn't here." Kate placed one hand on her hip and used the other to gesture toward the door. "His brother is, and you do not know anything about the man. You should never trust a sailor."

"He's a naval officer."

"They are all allowed offshore from time to time, and they all seek out the same vices."

Charlotte came to stand behind Lily and braced her hands on her shoulders. "And do you truly wish to live on an island? And marry a man you never met?"

This was worse than after Felton jilted her and certainly worse than the kitchen incident. "Islands have the advantage of having fewer people, which I prefer. And I bet it has a magnificent view of the sky. Besides, people do it all the time."

"But you do not have five-thousand pounds, and that is a matter that can't be explained away. Does your soon-to-be husband know your father has squandered away your dowry?"

"It is a good match." That was all she could say that would be considered polite. She did not feel much like bickering with Kate, and she certainly did not appreciate being made to feel as if her judgment was faulty or that she was naive in the way of men.

The man she had been corresponding with over the past month was a good man, one of solid character and, above all, sharp-tongued. She looked forward to evenings of shared conversations and verbal sparring matches over dinner. It would be nice to speak with someone who could keep up with her humor. Not many could.

"Have you informed your father of your decision to marry?" Leave it to Charlotte to be motherly in her inquiries.

"I have agreed to the arrangement, and I will not leave a man waiting for a wife who agreed to be such. I will not impart that shame on anyone after having experienced such myself."

"You haven't told them?" Kate asked.

It wasn't that she hadn't told her father. Well, she hadn't, so that much was true. It was only she knew he would never agree, and she had grown tired of someone else holding responsibility over her head. She was capable of deciding life on her own. Especially given that her father had been confident about the last match. And that had worked out so well.

No, she had sought out to please her father and had been jilted twice. And as he was more concerned with avoiding her now than finding her a new husband, she would find one herself because marriage would save her.

She had no time for love. Or daydreams about elaborate weddings and happy-ever-afters.

This was a practical matter, far removed from anything to do with her heart. It was logical.

"I don't like this, Lily. Not at all. Your father will only cause more trouble."

"My father has barely spoken to me since Felton. I'm sure he wishes only to be rid of me. "

Charlotte nodded. "It would be wise to inform your parents if you are going to marry."

"I would rather send a wedding announcement after the fact."

Lily trudged to the window, pressing her hand against the glass to see how far it would be if she opened it and jumped.

Unfortunately, Stonehurst was far too grand and much too tall for such an escape to be successful.

"If this is something you must do, then I will be your companion for the ride." Charlotte looped her hand around Lily's arm and spun her around.

"To see if the man I marry meets the duchess's approval?"

Lily had known Charlotte and Kate since childhood. First when both girls and their families spent summers in the country away from London, and then again after Charlotte became duchess and resided most of the year in Cumbria.

"And so will I," Kate added, hooking her hand around Lily's arm. She was in the midst of a friend sandwich full of... Well, she couldn't say they were ill-meaning. But she was not confident that she would arrive to meet and marry the man to be her husband with either of them in tow.

Lily disentangled from the pair, rushing for the door. "Then I will let you pack."

The knot in her chest made it difficult to breathe as she made her way downstairs and peered inside the library where Mr. Davies stood by the window overlooking one of Charlotte's many secrets—the sweeping, vibrant gardens she installed behind Stonehurst against the duke's wishes.

She had envisioned this morning going much better, though her expectations were rather ridiculous. Daydreams perhaps snuffed out reality, and she thought her husband would await her in the doorway, struck by her beauty and endless wit, and apologize for making her wait for as long as she had before sweeping her off to a beautiful island where they would live a quiet, cozy life, and she would study the skies and be loved. Truly.

But she knew better than anyone that daydreams of love only meant heartache. No, it was time for her to be logical. That came naturally. This was the logical solution that would remove her from her family and see her future secured.

Practical.

This had nothing to do with love. Nor did she need it.

She couldn't expect to stay and find what she needed in this life. She must leave.

"Can I help you, Miss Abrams?"

His voice was so smooth and warm, and she instantly hated how it lured her forward to fully step into the library.

He spun to face her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. The casualness of it struck her, left her spinning for a minute to make sense of the disappointment knotting up in the pit of her stomach.

Such a waste. He was handsome, and he was not to be hers. But for a moment, she had thought so. For a moment, that crooked smile of his filled her with a slew of unspoken promises. And that was the worst of it.

Mr. Davies was tall with wide shoulders and a trim waist. His olive skin was offset by bright, hazel eyes and thick brows. His black hair was cut short but still managed to rebel in a tangle of cursory curls. His cheeks were sharp, his jawline more so, and there was the soft curve of his lips.

Lily placed her hand at her throat, studying him there in the blissful silence after having just survived the Spanish Inquisition. A silence that was far too intimate to dwell in. She licked her lips, certain the warmth coursing through her body would pass any moment. Her pulse thrummed under her skin to suggest otherwise.

"If you have any doubts," he said, "I will return today, alone. I won't ask any further questions."

She shook her head, the first flush of excitement passing, now churning into something darker—annoyance or contempt.

She wouldn't tolerate chivalry. She did not need to be rescued. She would do so herself.

"The duchess and Miss Bancroft will be ready within the hour. "

She left before he could respond. She wasn't interested in what he had to say on the matter. There were far too many opinions involved already.

Rafe stood beneath the portico at Stonehurst and clasped his hands behind his back. He thought that he would be returning to Cliffstone with only his brother's future bride, but instead, he was returning with two of her friends as well.

Four was a crowd.

Miss Katherine rushed out, smiling. "How lovely for you to accompany us all."

"My pleasure." He offered his hand to help her up into the carriage.

"I know of you," she said, sitting down and smoothing her hands out over her knees. She spoke so matter-of-factly, as if she was declaring the sun was out or summer was hot. She pivoted, staring down at him with big, gray eyes. "Does your brother have the same reputation?"

"I am not sure. What is the gossip today?"

She winked, pointing her finger at him. "Yes, a rake through and through, and so devilishly charming."

"Only when I've had breakfast."

The duchess walked out next in an understated lavender gown. Her eyes were like those of a sad dog, lost and yet so begrudgingly kind. Rafe blew out an annoyed breath and focused back on Miss Katherine's inquisition.

"You were recently in the gossip rags. There was something to do with a tribunal and some gambling debts. And some rather unsatisfactory conduct for such an esteemed naval officer."

London had been a problem last autumn after returning from his last post, yes. But it wasn't as if he had had a long history of such behavior. Admiral Ackerman had sent a letter expressing his concern after word spread around London about Rafe's legendary stroke of bad luck at the gaming tables. Then, Henry had swooped in with news he had inherited an earldom and dragged Rafe off to Cliffstone before any significant damages were done, besides those, of course, to his ego.

"Yes, well naval tribunals do fascinate Mayfair, but that matter is finished."

"Gossip is never so quick to die." Miss Katherine adjusted her bonnet. "Miss Abrams wishes next to nothing in a husband beyond escaping her family and securing some stability."

He leaned into the carriage, his jaw suddenly tight. "I am the younger brother, so infer what you must, but I assure you my brother is a man of great discipline and integrity." He stepped aside, holding his hand out to help the duchess inside. "Your Grace."

She nodded, distracted by the sight of Lily rushing out the door with her arm full of books and a large satchel slung over her shoulder.

"Where will she fit all that?" Miss Katherine wondered aloud.

The duchess only laughed, the same endearing laugh of a mother watching over her child who insists upon doing everything for themselves. "I admire her grit. I will miss our Lily."

"It is not as if we will never see her again."

Rafe glanced back to the approaching figure of Miss Abrams in her blue traveling dress. Blue when her eyes were deep brown, filled with such fierce fire he didn't dare meet her stare as she strode up.

"Excuse me." She bumped against him, the books nearly toppling out of her arms.

"Let me help?—"

"That is quite all right. I have been holding books myself for much of my life. I do not need help today."

Very well. He stepped aside, annoyed at Miss Katherine's tittering inside the carriage in between softly humming the tune of a popular tavern song.

How had this become his life? He had been well on his way to becoming a captain, and now he was waiting to select his next posting or decide if he would leave the Navy.

"Mr. Davies?"

"Yes, Your Grace? "

She shrugged, pointing to Miss Abrams who struggled to climb into the carriage.

Right. He cleared his throat and offered assistance once more.

Miss Abrams twisted around. "I must insist—" She tripped on her hem, nearly tumbling backward off the step of the carriage.

Rafe lunged forward, stretching out to catch her. Her petite body toppled into his arms, soft and smelling of apricots and cinnamon.

He really must have breakfast, or he was the very devil.

She blinked up at him for a moment, and he was struck by her dark brown eyes and the way the sun made them spark with enough gold a crew would certainly mutiny over.

"Are you well?" she asked.

The world turned upside down again. He tried to piece together why it felt as if what he knew of the world was crumbling and washing away to sea. Or why he suddenly couldn't speak.

It felt…

Well, with her in his arms.

He couldn't finish a damn thought.

After a moment, as if realizing she lay in his arms, staring at his mouth, she sputtered, grabbed the lapels of his best jacket, and vaulted upward, knocking her head against his until he was certain he saw stars.

"Horse feathers!" she muttered, pulling away from his grip as he staggered back a step.

"Will we be leaving soon?" Miss Katherine inquired from within, snickering.

Rafe frowned, rubbing his forehead.

"I apologize," Lily said. "About losing my footing."

He instantly hated that raspy voice of hers. He would make a point to never surprise her again in his life. It was probably for the best that their small party had grown because having to travel only with her would be insufferable. She certainly didn't think highly of him.

He found her… interesting. Which was inconvenient at best and troublesome at worst.

"No need." He straightened his suit, then strode around to the other side of the carriage, and opened the door to discover Lily and her books waiting for him.

Right. He would do this for his brother. Henry would agree in time that a wife was exactly what he needed to be settled and happy at Cliffstone. Rafe couldn't remember the last time he saw his brother smile.

Years ago, probably.

He settled onto the bench seat, crowded by her pile of books, annoyed by that perfume of hers, and irritated he had nowhere to stretch out his long legs.

"The first posting inn is a few hours away."

Without asking if they were ready and half afraid if he did Lily would race back to the library to bring more books with her, he signaled for the driver to go.

Two weeks traveling across England was hardly what he considered fun, but at least he wasn't back at Cliffstone, helping to repair wells or mending goats.

"Do you play rugby, Mr. Davies?" Miss Bancroft asked.

He pushed his hand against the sliding stack of books as the carriage rocked forward.

"No, I never played."

"What a shame." She glanced back out toward the window, never finishing her conversation. Or perhaps that was the end of her thought.

Either way, Rafe wished to be absolutely anywhere other than this carriage. Back in London. Back on a ship's deck in the bitter cold wind. Even that detestable gaol last autumn.

But not home.

Never home.

That would happen soon enough, and he was not prepared to face what awaited him there.

Miss Abrams searched through the stack of books, then picked up several, and held them out to Rafe. She didn't wait for him to accept before depositing them into his lap.

She would be perfect for Henry .

He couldn't stand his brother, so they would be a match made in heaven.

"Should we play a game?" Miss Katherine asked excitedly.

"No," Miss Abrams and the duchess answered in unison.

"Mr. Davies?"

His head hurt. That is what happened when he caught tumbling bluestockings. It was a literal headache. "I must also decline."

"How long before we reach Cliffstone?" she asked.

"Too long," muttered Miss Abrams under her breath.

Rafe snickered, annoyed when she caught his glance and arched her brow, challenging him.

"Lily, tell us one of your stories. She knows so much about the stars, Mr. Davies. Are you a man of science?" asked the duchess.

He caught the duchess's stare. "I'm a naval man, Your Grace. I've been taught to live and die by those stars."

"Yes, well I found the most interesting entry in the previous issue of Philosophical Transactions ," Miss Abrams said, opening the magazine, then began to read.

It wasn't long before her reading lulled him to sleep, and he slept until the carriage arrived at the positing inn.