STANDING IN HER mother’s perfumery, Lily gazed out the window and squinted into the distance. “Where on earth is he?”
On another day, Rose might have laughed, but she didn’t. “Poor Lily. Give him time.” She chose several cheerful yellow daffodils and added them to an arrangement. “He had to ride there and convince his father and then come all the way back…why, he likely won’t be here for hours.”
Mum plucked rose petals, tossing them into the clear glass bulb of the fancy distillery Ford had made for her while courting Violet. “Your sister’s right, dear. Come and help me. It will take your mind off the waiting.”
With a sigh, Lily walked to the table and idly picked up a rose. “I know Rand will convince his father,” she said, as much to assure herself as them.
“Of course he will,” Rose said. “If you’d seen that translation, you’d be even more certain. Rand’s brother intended murder. The marquess won’t be able to deny it.”
“But that doesn’t mean he’ll allow us to wed.”
That statement was met with silence, because, unfortunately, there was no arguing with it. No guarantees that proof of Alban’s intent would lead to the marquess changing his mind.
“Tell me about Hawkridge,” Mum said at last. “I’ve never been there myself. Is it beautiful?”
“Very.” Lily absently plucked rose petals. “Much newer than Trentingham—Rand’s father built it just before the war—and every room is exquisite.” Except for Rand’s, which was rather plain, but she didn’t feel up to explaining that. “Why, the dining room even has leather on the walls, with designs stamped in pure gold. But the place is eerie, I think. Or perhaps it’s just cold. It feels as though no one there has been happy for a long, long time.”
“Perhaps they haven’t,” Mum suggested. “But that will change, of course. You and Rand will be happy indeed, and your happiness will rub off on everyone else. And I imagine that after you move there you’ll be able to make improvements, make Hawkridge Hall feel warmer and more like home. If you cannot redecorate the whole house, you should at least have a say in the rooms assigned to you and Rand.”
Picturing Rand’s tiny chamber, Lily sighed. Maybe—assuming they were allowed to marry—they could occupy Alban’s suite of rooms instead. But if that were the case, a complete overhaul would be necessary before she’d agree to sleep there even once.
Rose added several carnations to the colorful spray she was creating. “Will you live at Hawkridge after you marry, then? Will Rand have to give up his post at Oxford?”
“I don’t know. As far as I’m aware, Rand and his father have yet to discuss any of those details.” She tossed the last of the rose petals into the glass bulb. “All of their energies have been focused on the question of who he will marry.”
Mum fitted the lid on the distillery. “Has Rand resigned himself to leaving his position?”
“I don’t think he’s had enough time to think about it. But I doubt he’ll be happy leaving Oxford.” Lily hoped he’d be happy just being with her, whether at Oxford or Hawkridge or somewhere else entirely. But she knew better. “He worked very hard to attain that professorship. And he enjoys that life. He’s never fancied himself a baron, let alone a marquess.”
Finished, Rose stepped back to eye her masterpiece. “I shouldn’t think that would be hard to get used to.”
Rose might have matured a bit, but she was still Rose.
“How about you?” Mum asked. “Will you be happy at Hawkridge?”
“I’ll be happy wherever Rand is,” she said, knowing it was true. “I’ll have him, and my animals…”
Her voice trailed off.
Mum looked up sharply. “What is it, dear? Are you afraid Lord Hawkridge won’t approve of your menagerie?”
“No,” she said slowly. “He loves animals—more than people, truth be told. He raises mastiffs.”
Mum smiled. “Well, then, it sounds like Hawkridge will be the perfect place to build your animal home.”
Rose tweaked a few flowers, balancing the arrangement. “From what I saw, Hawkridge has plenty of space.”
“No. I mean, yes, as you know, there are acres and acres of land.” Lily took a deep breath and decided to come out with it. “But you might as well know that if the marquess blesses this marriage, it will be with the stipulation that my inheritance goes to him.”
Rose gasped. “How dare he demand such a thing!”
“There was no demand. I offered of my own free will. Hawkridge was mortgaged during the war, you see, to provide funds for King Charles. The marquess was on the verge of losing it when Margery was dropped in his lap, along with her considerable fortune. Hawkridge would face bankruptcy without her land and money.”
“Or your money,” Rose said darkly.
“Exactly. Don’t look so sour, Rose. It was my idea to offer my inheritance in exchange for the right to wed Rand, and I’ll gladly do so, if only the marquess will allow it.”
Rose plucked a daisy from the vase and pointed it at Lily. “All your life, you’ve dreamed of nothing but building a home for your strays.” She shook the flower, emphasizing her words. “Maybe sometimes I’ve laughed at that, but I know how important it is to you. How can you give that up so cavalierly?”
“I’m in love,” Lily said simply.
But she caught Mum’s gaze on her and knew her mother hadn’t missed the wistfulness in her voice.