Page 20 of In Want of a Wife
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 onlymeant 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 stoodbeneath 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?”
