We’re to be parents. Can you believe it? In truth, you’re the only man I saw myself bearing children for, but reality is far more complicated than I expected.
––––––––
“MY LORD, MIGHT I HAVE a word?” The Marquess of Linton approached Owen later in the afternoon as he prepared to notify Lily of their ability to finally leave. They’d dined and chatted for hours after their vows were spoken, and he knew it was wearing on her.
Scanning the bobbing heads before him for the sight of his newly minted wife, Owen nodded absent-mindedly to the older gentleman. “Certainly. What’s this about?”
“I wanted to congratulate you on your nuptials. It was a lovely ceremony, and the bride looked quite beautiful. You’re a lucky fellow.” Indeed. The image of Lily walking down the aisle towards him, draped in cream lace and silk, would forever linger in his mind. “However, I couldn’t help but notice one of her... sisters, is it? The pale blonde?”
If this man wished to express a romantic interest in Iris, he was wasting his time. The remaining unwed Taylor sisters wouldn’t have to marry for anything but love after the dowries and trusts he’d set up for them. And while Iris was sweet and amenable to everyone, he doubted her first choice of husband would be a man old enough to be her father.
“Miss Iris. What about her?”
“She bears a striking resemblance to my late sister Agatha—similar coloring in the hair and eyes—and it occurred to me that there might have been consequences from an ill-fated affair years ago. If you understand my meaning...” The marquess raised a steel gray eyebrow while Owen struggled to comprehend the enormity of what the man was implying. In the middle of a damned wedding reception, no less!
Drawing him to the side of the room for more privacy, Owen asked, “Are you suggesting Miss Iris is your daughter? A bastard child?”
“I wouldn’t have put it so harshly, but yes. Her mother is Miss Martha Kent, correct?”
He had to give the man credit with the naming of Iris’s true mother. Most people in Shoreham had forgotten the abrupt appearance of another baby at the Taylor home only a few short months after Mrs. Taylor birthed Caraway. Though technically a cousin, she’d been raised as a sister since infancy, and the villagers accepted it as truth after so many years.
The fact that Linton knew of Iris’s true origins meant there may be some validity to his claim. “She is. Or was, rather. She passed two years after abandoning her baby with her sister, Mrs. Taylor. If you believe you’re her father, what do you plan to do about it? Acknowledge her in front of Society?”
The marquess didn’t possess a sterling reputation as is, so a bastard child emerging from his past wouldn’t be remarkable. However, Owen didn’t like the idea of Iris being exposed to vicious gossip.
“She’s a marquess’s daughter! The blood running in her veins matches my own.” Puffing out his chest, the man resembled a bloated peacock—his overblown facsimile of fatherly concern put Owen on edge. “I’d like to get to know my daughter, since I was robbed of the chance. Her mother deserted me with no warning.”
Which fit the brief description Lily had given him of her aunt when they were younger.
“I’ll need to speak with the family and Miss Iris about such a meeting. She’s lived over two decades without you; I’m not sure how good it’d be for you to crop up in her life now.”
Understatement of the century. The family had just dodged the bullet of Mr. Laramie. Now, they may have Iris’s biological father to contend with?
Life with the Garden Girls guaranteed to never be boring.
Finally, spotting his wife in the crowd, he cut Linton’s forceful defense off with a head shake. “No more. You’ve said your piece, and I’ll consider what you’re asking. For now, that is all I can give you.” Without another word, Owen cut through groups of guests congratulating him on his nuptials before cosying up behind Lily, who kept her gaze fixed on a discussion between Caraway and Lord Brandon.
“You need more male friends.”
They watched as Caraway laughed at something Brandon said, her body inching closer to his. He’d suspected Cara’s crush when they were younger, but he’d hoped she would have grown out of it by now. Unfortunately, time and distance seemed to make her heart grow fonder as she blushed at another quip by his friend.
“You and your sisters were... are the closest friends I have,” he admitted. “I got along fine with the boys at school, but we never formed a kinship like I did with your family. Besides, you little hoydens stole any energy I might have had left for other friendships.”
“Hoydens!” She smacked his arm in mock effrontery before turning back to the tableau before them.
“Don’t pretend the moniker doesn’t fit.”
“Perhaps, though I’m sure Cara’s never been described that way in her life. Either way, you’re a grown man now who needs peers to confide in, other than Brandon. Cara’s too taken with him, and I get the impression that he just enjoys attention from wherever he can get it.”
She wasn’t wrong. And he disliked his sister-in-law being hurt in the process.
“What about Jonathan, Hazel’s husband?”
“I’m still reserving judgment on him.” Their gazes switched to the couple on the other side of the room—a former criminal turned legitimate businessman and his cheerful wife.
“They’ve been married nigh on eight months without issue. I think it’s high time you gave the man a chance.”
“Perhaps, but as a former rookery rogue, I find it hard to believe a tiger could so easily change its stripes.” An unbecoming comparison to his wife came to mind. Had she changed her stripes? Could she be trusted again?
“Doesn’t the saying mention something about spots instead of stripes?” Lily smirked, a teasing sparkle in her hazel eyes, and he prayed she could be.
“Focus, darling. Either way, I’m not ready to confide my deeply personal secrets to Mr. Jonathan Travers.”
“Oh no, you should only share those with me. But at least if you spent more time with Jonathan, Brandon wouldn’t be around so much. I hate seeing Cara so obviously smitten with someone unworthy of her.”
Sighing in resignation, he agreed. “I know. I’ve tried hinting that he’s not the man for her, but she ignores the subtle warnings. And of course, I can’t share the truly sordid parts of Brandon since she’s a lady.”
Lily perked up at the chance to learn more about Brandon’s flaws. “Tell me, and I’ll tell her. I have no qualms about sharing such information.”
“Incorrigible minx.”
“Stick in the mud.”
“Since when is caring about propriety and protecting your sister’s sensibilities considered being a stick in the mud?” Turning away from the pair, Owen’s brow raised in question.
“Since always, dear. Stop worrying about Cara’s sensibilities.” Taking a sip of the champagne in her hand, she continued, “They’re not delicate in the least, and you’d be saving her from heartache.”
“Which you’re the expert on.” The unconscious jab hit its mark as a wounded expression chased the playful expression from Lily’s face. “I’m sorry; I don’t know why I said that.”
“It was an accurate assessment, however. I hardly know proper protocol when it comes to saving one from relational heartache. And I doubt Cara would appreciate my efforts. Or yours, for that matter.” Studying the floating bubbles in her glass, she reverted back to their previous conversation. “Which brings me back to the original point. You need more male friends.”
“I’ll add it to my ever-growing list of responsibilities. Happy?”
“Moderately.”
“Ah, we’re progressing nicely then, because earlier I could’ve sworn you were hovering around a barely. Keep this up, and we might reach emotions of joy before the evening is done.” He winked before avoiding the closed fan that slipped off her wrist to fly towards him after her imitation of hitting him over the head went awry.
The piece landed at his mother’s feet while surrounding guests tittered at the outburst. “My, you two are in high spirits. Should I ask what has elicited such a reaction from our dear countess? Wedding revels?”
“She thinks I need more friends.”
“Touchy topic, I see.” His mother smiled before picking up the discarded fan. “Though, I agree with her. It would be nice to see you relaxing with your peers rather than hiding away in your study. Something that will surely change with Lily’s permanent presence.”
Groaning, Owen warned. “Don’t you start, too. I’m going to make the rounds one more time before we say our goodbyes. Care to join me, wife?”
Lily startled at the title but nodded, her elaborate coiffure bouncing in time with the movement. He couldn’t wait to see the thick strands loose and spread on his bed.
Don’t get too excited. You’ve no idea how tonight will proceed.
But a man could hope.
Spying Cara and Iris alone, no Brandon in sight, Owen took advantage and guided them towards the remaining unattached Taylor sisters.
“Are you ladies enjoying yourselves?” he asked as they hugged him and Lily.
“Very much. Your mother has done a wonderful job of organizing and the church looked as if it’d been plucked from the pages of a fairytale,” Iris gushed, ever the romantic. The discussion with Linton threatened to burst forth, but another disclosure needed to be spoken first.
“I will let her know of your approval.” Clearing his throat, his grasp tightened on Lily. “I want the both of you to know you’ll always be taken care of—whether you marry or not. Dowries and trusts have been set up in your names, so you needn’t worry about money any longer.”
Cara and Iris stared, mouths agape. Spluttering, the elder sister responded first. “You can’t be serious. This is too generous! We have Papa’s savings left, which will last for the foreseeable future now that you’ve dealt with Mr. Laramie. You’ve done enough.”
He knew Cara would present the most challenge, be the most adamant against him providing the Garden Girls with financial aid. She was the most independent sister, rivaling Lily for the title, though she hid the streak well under propriety and calm.
Surprisingly, his wife voiced no objection. Just surveyed him beneath furrowed brows, an unreadable expression masking her face.
“You are too kind, Owen.” Iris smiled and glided forward to wrap him in another hug. Guilt shaded the moment as he recalled his conversation with her possible biological father, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up.
“Yes, too kind,” Lily murmured at his side. It lacked any snideness, though, and he wondered what was going through her mind.
“It’s the least I can do for my family, which you’ve always been, even if today’s when it became official.” He’d failed his duty to them during his extended leave, allowing Laramie to barge in with ultimatums, but the corrected course lay before him now.
Owen would ensure his sisters-in-law’s well-being while attempting to achieve happiness with his wife.
A quest slated to begin that very night.