Page 51 of In Want of a Wife
Lily peeked over her shoulder and glared at Rafe. He shrugged, ducking down to enter the short doorway inside the cottage.
His mother first wrapped him in a tight embrace, then led them through a small sitting room with a black cat curled up on a quilt sunbathing. Finn trotted alongside Rafe. Lily glanced around her, soaking up the many small details that made up a home. Like the afghan tossed over the armchair, the crooked oil painting on the wall of a ship, the soft click of the dog’s nails against the floor.
“I was baking. Excuse my appearance.” The older woman brushed the back of her hand against her cheek to remove the smudge of flour.
“Scones, I hope.” Rafe reached into a chipped china bowl full of wild strawberries and plopped one into his mouth.
“You must have known. Seems like you only journey home when I’m baking.”
Lily softly giggled.
He stepped beside Lily and bumped her shoulder. “I like scones.”
“Hmm.”
“So,” Mrs. Davies started, bustling around the small kitchen. There was a backdoor that was opened, allowing in a soft sea breeze. A stone patch cut through swaying tall grass that was dotted with wildflowers. “Why is it that Henry isn’t here if he is the one to be married?”
“He was practical as always and advertised inThe Times.”
His mother paused, her hand firmly gripping the rolling pin on the worktable. “I see.”
Something in the way she answered suddenly filled Lily with panic.
“This was not how I wished to meet you, Mrs. Davies.” Lily stood in the kitchen with her hands clasped in front of her, feeling as if she were only a few inches tall. How completely humiliating.
“I have more questions, but those can wait,” she said addressing Rafe. “But what I am interested to learn now is what happened to your face?”
“We were robbed early yesterday morning. Our carriage was held up by highwaymen. Rafe fought them off.” Lily cleared her throat. Everything within her shook.
“So, you two are in fact not married,” she repeated, “and have been traveling alone.”
“Her chaperone was struck ill shortly after we left Cumbria. We had no choice but to continue without her.”
His mother took the whistling kettle off the stove. Lily didn’t dare tell her she was much too hot to consume tea at the moment.
“And you are betrothed to my Henry?”
Lily nodded, regretting the entire adventure now. It had been a disaster from the start, and she had been too headstrong to admit it to herself.
Finn lay in the open doorway, his head on his paws as he watched the volley of questions and comments.
“We will only be staying for the night if you will have us. We will leave in the morning with grandmother’s ring and be on our way.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
Rafe popped another strawberry into his mouth, and he glanced at Lily, his eyebrow arched.
“No, I don’t believe I?—”
“Mari won’t be letting you go so soon. And it has been an age since you’ve paid your ma a visit, always sailing across the world. Of course, you may stay. I only wish Henry was here so we could celebrate together.”
“Henry has the estate now. You know how particular he is about details.”
His mother nodded, slamming down the rolling pin against a pillowy pile of dough. “Yes, I know.”
Voices carried in through the opened windows.
Lily looked between Mrs. Davies and Rafe, waiting, wishing she could find a quiet corner to catch her breath and gather her thoughts.
