HALFWAY TO Oxford, rain had begun falling, turning the roads to mush and Rand’s journey to a snail-paced nightmare. He’d arrived home and trudged through the empty house to the one furnished room, his bedchamber, where he’d promptly fallen into bed and passed a restless night.
Morning found him in a foul mood. Another day gone and no closer to finding a solution. He scrubbed up and pulled on some clothes, then opened his door, intending to inspect the house.
A measuring tape in one hand, Kit stopped and turned. “Rand. When did you get home?”
“Last night. Late.” Rand rubbed his aching head. “How is the job progressing?”
“Haven’t you noticed? It’s all but done.”
“Is it?” He followed Kit along the corridor, peeking into beautifully finished rooms. “My apologies. You’ve worked wonders.”
“I’ve been here since you left. Amazing how a few days onsite will motivate craftsmen to work.” He grinned, then suddenly frowned. “Hey, Rand, you’re going to break your teeth.”
Rand consciously relaxed his jaw, which had been clenched to the point of pain.
“What’s got your dander up?” Kit asked.
“The mental image of my father at Hawkridge, planning a wedding for five days hence.”
“I thought you wanted to get married.”
“To Lily, not Margery Maybanks.”
“Margery?” Kit’s green-brown eyes widened. “Margery! Why on earth would he want you to marry Margery?”
Rand sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Best told over a tankard of ale, I’d guess. Come along. It’s a bit early yet, but the King’s Arms is always open.”
“CHIN UP, DEAR,” Lily’s father bellowed across the table.
“You cannot give up hope,” Mum added more gently, pointedly handing Lily a spoon. “There must be something that can be done.”
“Rand. Rand will have to come up with something.” Unable to eat, Lily pushed her dinner around on her plate and sighed.
The lighthearted camaraderie of last night was gone. In the wee hours of the morning, the young women had all giggled their way upstairs to share Lily’s big bed. It had been a tight fit with four instead of three, but worth it for the comfort she’d felt, surrounded by people who cared.
Today she could find no comfort. They’d awakened too late for breakfast and spent most of dinner revisiting all their useless suggestions, reviewing them with Father and Mum. No one had any new ideas to contribute, and Lily’s predicament seemed more hopeless than ever.
“Violet? Are you ready to come home?” They all looked over to see Ford had appeared in the doorway. “Did you have a fine time?”
Violet gave him a wan smile. “We did last night.” She pushed back her chair and rose. “While I go get my things, Lily will fill you in on what’s happened. Perhaps you’ll see a solution we haven’t.”
But even Ford’s brilliant mind had no new solution to offer. He was in agreement that absolving Bennett Armstrong was their only option. “Maybe one of the other hunters witnessed the confrontation,” he suggested. “Or someone else. Just because no one’s come forward—”
“Rand is planning to interview everyone in the vicinity.” Lily bit her lip. “But I’m afraid if anyone knew anything, they’d have come forward long before now.”
Ford looked thoughtful. “Not if they were afraid of facing the marquess’s wrath. He clearly doesn’t want to hear his son was at fault.”
“That’s true,” she said, reluctant to succumb to the thread of hope that suddenly tugged at her heart. “A different way to look at this. He did, after all, offer an enormous reward for information that would prove Lord Armstrong guilty. Perhaps people are reluctant to approach him with anything that would prove the opposite.”
Her father nodded sagely. “It’s wise to keep on top of it.”
Judith reached for more bread. “She said ‘the opposite,’ Lord Trentingham. Someone could be frightened to bring Lord Hawkridge evidence that proves the opposite.”
“Eh?”
Evidently giving up, Judith slathered butter on the bread. “You must trust Rand, then,” she told Lily, taking a big bite. The solemn atmosphere had failed to curb her appetite. “You love him, and you have to believe he won’t give up until he finds proof.”
Yes, Rand had promised they would find a way. After giving Judith a shaky smile, Lily turned to Ford. “Thank you. You’ve given me hope.”
“It was nothing. Just another way to look at a solution that had already been proposed—nothing has changed.”
While that was true, Lily was holding as tight as she could to that thin thread of hope. For the first time since she’d awakened this morning, she felt able to breathe.
Violet returned, her satchel in one hand and An Antidote Against Melancholy in the other. “I’m ready.”
“Why did you want that book?” Ford asked.
As her gaze flicked to their parents, Violet flushed a delicate pink. “Oh, I just thought it might help Lily.” She took his arm. “Come along. I cannot wait to see Nicky and the twins.”
“What’s the book called?” Mum asked.
Having failed to escape, Violet forced a smile. “An Antidote Against Melancholy. Lily was feeling a bit melancholy last night, you see, and—”
“Oh, then would you mind leaving it here? I expect she may feel a bit melancholy again the next few days.”
“We already read the whole thing,” Violet said, clutching the book possessively.
“Well, then.” Mum was nothing if not persistent. “Leave it here for me. I adore helping people, as you know, and it seems to me I could learn a lot from a book called An Antidote Against Melancholy.”
Lily suspected Mum would learn more than she anticipated. In specific, she’d learn her daughters weren’t quite the innocents she imagined. And if she could judge by her sister’s face, Violet was thinking much the same.
Looking amused, Ford pried the book from his wife’s hands and set it on the table. “Here,” he told his mother-in-law with a grin that would do any fiend proud. “I hope you and Lord Trentingham will enjoy it.”
As Mum smiled and reached for it, he hustled Violet from the room, laughingly ignoring her protests. Rose and Lily exchanged frantic looks.
Their mother lifted the front cover.
“No!” Lily cried, her hand shooting out to slam the book shut. “Sorry, I…I just felt a bit of melancholy coming on, and, um, certain passages might be, you know, helpful. To reread. Some things are better the second time, you know. So, um, can I keep the book a little longer?”
“Of course.” To Lily’s great relief, her mother relinquished the book without a fight. “Judith, dear, would you please pass the sugar bowl?”
Judith obliged, and Mum spooned sugar into her coffee, humming a simple tune as she stirred.
It was only when she noticed Rose’s mouth hanging open that Lily realized the tune was “The Comical Dreamer.”