TWENTY-FOUR

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“I’M FLATTERED, my lady,” Rand’s wry voice came through the door. “But as it happens, I’ve set my sights elsewhere.” He sneezed. “Pardon me. I seem to be coming down with something. Where are those flowers you wanted to show me?”

“Gemini! They seem to have disappeared.” Lily heard Rose’s practiced laugh, a tinkling, feminine sound. “Perhaps a kiss might compensate for the loss?”

On the other side of the door, Lily was so aghast she could find no words to express her feelings. “Poor Rand has caught my illness,” she whispered irrelevantly.

“How is that?” Judith whispered back. As Lily blushed, her friend’s pale blue eyes widened. “Oh, my word! He kissed you, didn’t he?”

“Why should you think so? I caught your illness without kissing you.”

“I can see it in your face,” Judith declared. “You—”

“Hush. I cannot hear.” Lily wondered if Rand and Rose were kissing.

No. Rose was talking. “I wonder,” she mused in a speculative tone, “if the lady you’ve set your sights on has ten thousand pounds to bring to a marriage. It seems to me a mere professor could use that sort of money. A windfall like that would allow you to live the gentlemanly life you were born to.”

Judith’s mouth dropped open. “She must be desperate,” she said over whatever Rand replied. “I cannot imagine—”

“Hush!”

“And I wonder…” When Rose paused, Lily imagined her trailing a fingertip down Rand’s arm, as she’d seen her sister do with other young men. She was relieved when Rose continued talking. “I wonder what my father, who is out in his gardens as always, would do if he found the two of us alone in here, hmm?”

Lily gasped. “That’s so unfair to Rand, threatening to trap him like that! She’s the one who lured him in there!”

“Unfair to him?” Judith’s whisper came through gritted teeth. “How about you, Lily? Is Rose not being unfair to you?”

“Rose would never hurt me on purpose! I’m certain she has no idea how I feel about Rand.”

“Well, then, it’s about time she found out,” Judith said, and with that, she flung open the door.

Since Rand was opening it at the same time, Judith fell into his arms, landing with a thud against his chest. He took the time to steady her before stepping away. “Pardon me, my lady. I was just leaving.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Judith said dreamily.

Rand had that effect on women, Lily thought wryly, and followed her friend into the summerhouse. She cleared her sore throat. ”Lord Randal Nesbitt, may I present my dear friend, Lady Judith Carrington?”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Judith said in a breathless tone that Lily found vexing.

“The pleasure is mine,” Rand replied politely. “But I’m afraid I must take my leave.”

“No.” Apparently regaining her wits, Judith cast a glance to where Rose stood in the shadows. “It’s Rose who’s leaving.” She marched over and took Rose by the arm. “Come along, Rose.”

Rose planted her feet. “I’m not finished talking to Lord Randal.”

Slender Rose was no match for Judith’s solid build. “Oh, yes, you are.” Undeterred, Judith hauled her out the door.

“You’re supposed to be my friend,” Rose protested loudly as she found herself dragged through the gardens.

“I am your friend.” Judith’s voice was growing fainter. “And as your friend, I insist on saving you from further embarrassing yourself.”

Rose’s reply was inaudible. Lily and Rand were alone. An expectant silence filled the cool, shaded summerhouse.

Rand sneezed.

“I’m sorry,” they both said together.

He cracked a smile. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry you had to put up with my sister’s nonsense.”

“I’m sorry you had to overhear it.”

“I’m sorry I made you ill.”

His smile widened. “Ah, but I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

“I’m sorry you’re not kissing me now.”

“I’m sor—what?”

He blinked and took a step closer, and Lily took a step closer, and they met in the middle.

Everything that had been holding her back had suddenly vanished, like the moon on a cloudy night. Something inside her had shifted. Never in her life had she been so angry with another person, much less with one of her own flesh and blood. She was too furious to think straight. How could Rose—it was so completely shocking—she must be the most selfish, underhanded—and to call him a mere professor—!

There was nothing mere about Rand. Not one thing. His form was towering and solid in her arms. His lips moved with devastating deftness over hers. He had the silkiest hair, the manliest scent, the kindest soul she’d ever known.

Rose didn’t deserve him.

But Lily didn’t want to think about Rose. Now that she could kiss Rand without so much as a twinge of guilt, all she wanted was to keep kissing Rand for as long as possible. Now that she could be close to him and touch him and taste him, untainted for the first time, she realized the truth.

He was all she wanted for the rest of her life. She was in love. And loving Rand was the most precious gift in all of God’s creation.

A laugh bubbled out of her, the noise joyous to her own ears. Her heart felt light enough to escape her chest and float away. How giddy and strange she felt. Rose had put Rand in a very awkward position, and Lily had witnessed it, and somehow, that had changed everything.

Lily’s laugh was a sound of pure, ringing happiness, a sound Rand hadn’t heard from her in weeks—maybe ever. It was a sound he perceived not with his ears, but with his heart. Though it startled him out of their kiss, it brought hope.

Love. Ford was right, this had to be love. It wasn’t a comfortable emotion—it was far too huge and overpowering—but it was there. And it wasn’t going away.

Now Rand just had to figure out what to do about it. Marry her, despite never having pictured himself marrying anyone? He thought of her sweetness, her faith in him, the way she made him feel.

Her essence.

Then he pictured letting that essence slip through his fingers, and the choice was obvious.

Never say never, he told himself ruefully, and took her hand. Lacing his fingers with hers, he drew a deep breath.

“Have you seen my ironclad spade?”

They both jumped, then turned to see Lily’s father standing in the doorway. She felt Rand had been about to say something important, and she was impatient to discover what. In haste and agitation, she scanned the dim summerhouse.

There was no spade. There wasn’t anything in here, in fact, save the narrow wooden benches attached to the circular wall. “It’s not here, Father. Why don’t you ask the head gardener?”

“Hmm,” he said. “I was hoping it would be in here. Perhaps I should ask the head gardener.” Muttering to himself, he turned and left.

Rand sneezed, using his free hand to block it. “Pardon me,” he said thickly.

“You are falling ill.”

He waved that away. “Your father didn’t hear your suggestion.”

She shrugged. ”If he hears one suggestion in ten, I consider myself lucky.”

“He wouldn’t have said a thing had he found me alone with Rose, would he?” Sounding incredulous, Rand raised their still-joined hands. “He didn’t even notice I was here.”

“Well, what did you expect? You’re not a flower.” Lily smiled up at him. “Now, what were you going to say before my father interrupted?”

He gave one of his inscrutable smiles in return. “Lily, can I ask you a favor?”

Her heart sped up. “Of course.”

“Will you play me a song?”