Royal's Bride (24 page)

“Would Monday be convenient?”

The eagerness in his voice had her looking up at him.
It was rare a man approached her. “I—I am not sure. As you say, we have only just met.”

And she had enough problems without adding more. As attractive as the viscount was, she simply wasn’t interested.

She started to politely decline, when a familiar deep voice rumbled toward her. “As a friend of Miss Moran’s family, I am afraid I shall have to decline for her, since the two of you have not been properly introduced. Perhaps if you spoke to Mr. Caulfield, he would be willing to arrange an introduction at some later date.”

Lily stared at Royal in amazement. He was about to become engaged to another woman. He had not the least say in her affairs and never would! How dare he have the cheek to interfere!

She turned an overbright smile on the viscount. “I own a millinery shop in Harken Lane, just off Bond. If that does not offend your noble sensibilities, my shop opens at nine in the morning. Perhaps you will drop by sometime.”

The young viscount beamed. “I shall make a point of it.” He made an extravagant bow. “A pleasure meeting you, Miss Moran.”

“You, as well, my lord.” Lily managed to keep her smile firmly in place as the viscount ambled away. She was still smiling when she felt Royal’s fingers wrap around her arm, turning her to face him.

“What the devil are you doing?”

“I am doing exactly as I please. I was enjoying a pleasant conversation with a handsome man. What is wrong with that?”

“You don’t even know him.”

She lifted her chin. “I do now.”

“You are encouraging him? Clearly he wishes to pay you court. You said you had a life of your own. You said you weren’t interested in marriage.”

“I am not utterly opposed to it, either. But should I wish to wed, it would be to a man of my choosing, not yours!”

Royal’s golden eyes glittered, his temper barely in check. “And what do you think he will say when he finds out you were once a cutpurse living on the streets?”

The words hit her like a blow. He knew her innermost secrets. She had never dreamed he would use them against her.

He looked as stricken as she. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean that. Please forgive me, I just—”

“You are right, of course. The man is a viscount, after all. I am sure he would be appalled at the very notion of a woman with my sordid past.”

“Lily, please—”

“On the other hand, perhaps I shall tell him and see what he has to say.” Whirling away, she lifted her skirts out of the way and started marching back toward the group she had come with.

Royal caught up with her in two long strides. “I didn’t mean it, dammit. I don’t care about your past and if a man cares for you, neither will he. I just…I didn’t want you to see him.”

Lily ignored him, something she wouldn’t have done even a few weeks ago. But she was a woman now, no longer a girl—Royal had seen to that. She owned her own business and had begun to earn her own living. She was starting to make her way in the world—and she was learning to stand up for herself.

Royal hurried to keep up with her. “Lily, wait!”

Sheridan Knowles walked up just then, interrupting whatever Royal wanted to say.

“Your fiancée is looking for you,” Sherry said to Royal with a pointed glance Lily’s way. “She is angling for an invitation to the opera. I think she wants to be seen in the ducal box. She is hoping you will escort her and her mother.”

Frustration tightened Royal’s features. Clearly he wanted to stay and yet he had no choice but to leave. “We aren’t finished, Lily.”

“Oh, but we are,” she said sweetly.

A muscle bunched in his cheek. Turning away, Royal started walking toward the woman he would marry. Lily watched Jocelyn take his arm and her bravado slowly faded. Seeing Royal with Jo made her heart hurt. All she wanted to do was go home.

But she had come to Battersea with the Caulfields. She would have to return with them. Lily steeled herself to reenter the group and had nearly reached them when Quentin Garrett, Lord March, walked up beside her.

“Perhaps…Miss Moran, you would care to join me in a glass of lemonade,” he said gently, offering her his arm. “It’s a bit warm out today.”

“Thank you, that would be lovely.” Grateful for the reprieve, she accepted his arm. She wasn’t sure how much Royal’s friends had guessed about the two of them, but the men were a protective lot, and whatever they thought, they had been good to her.

Taking comfort in Lord March’s escort, she let him guide her toward the punch bowl.

M
onday was a busy day at the millinery shop. Lily took several orders and also spent time working on the hats she had sold and currently needed to complete.

“I’ll be leavin’ now, miss.” Flora, her helper, stood in the doorway of the backroom, where Lily sat working. It was already two o’clock. “I’ll be back in the mornin’, miss.”

“Thank you, Flora.” She watched the red-haired girl leave, grateful for the help, but she was always glad when the shop was hers alone.

It was late afternoon the next time the bell above the door rang. As Lily emerged from the back, she was surprised to see Phillip Landen, Viscount Hartwell, walk into the shop.

Wishing she hadn’t been quite so impulsive at the picnic, Lily pasted on a smile and started toward him.

“Good afternoon, my lord.”

He swept his beaver hat from his head. “Good afternoon, Miss Moran.” His hazel eyes appraised her,
then shone with appreciation. “My, don’t you make a lovely picture.”

A blush began to rise in her cheeks. “Thank you, my lord.”

He glanced round the shop. “It is unusual for a young woman to own her own business. I admire your initiative.”

She couldn’t help a smile. “It’s been a dream of mine for some time.”

He meandered round the narrow interior, studying a bonnet here, a lace cap there. “Quite nice work, I should say. Though I am certainly no expert on ladies’ hats. Do you make them yourself?”

“Why, yes, I do.”

His smile was slightly lopsided, she saw, which made it somehow charming. “I believe I should like to purchase one of your lovely creations for my mother. Which one do you think she might like?”

She walked over to where he stood peering at a row of bonnets that included a pale green silk and one of pearl-gray velvet with burgundy ribbons. Several straw bonnets sat on the shelf below.

“It is difficult to know a woman’s tastes,” she said.

“Mother is quite conservative in her clothing. And pretty much everything else.” This was said with one of his charming, lopsided smiles.

Lily smiled back, but a ripple of unease began to surface. Royal’s words popped into her head. What do you think he will say when he finds out you were once a cutpurse living on the streets?

She reached up for a cream silk cap trimmed with Belgian lace. “This one might please her. It is a simple
design, which makes it versatile and not offensive, and size shouldn’t be a problem.”

He took the hat from her hand, held it up to examine it. “I believe you have come up with the perfect choice.” He smiled down at her. “Thank you, Miss Moran.”

Lily escorted him to the counter where he paid for the merchandise and she put it into a pretty paper hatbox. The viscount continued to watch her, and as she sensed his growing interest, the more difficult it was to look at him.

“Is something wrong?” he finally asked. “You seem troubled of a sudden.”

“I…I am sorry. It is just…I do not wish to encourage your interest, my lord, when it cannot be returned.”

He frowned. “And why is that?”

“It seems more than clear. Because you are a viscount and I am merely a shopkeeper.”

He reached over and caught her hand. “You are far more than that. You are lovely and intelligent, and yet I can sense your gentleness. You are someone I would value knowing. The rest is unimportant.”

Perhaps to him it would be, but certainly not to his mother or the rest of his family.

“I appreciate your kindness, my lord, but I do not think it is a good idea for you to return.”

He studied her for several long moments, searching for what lay beneath the surface of her words. “For now, I shall bow to your wishes, Miss Moran. But I am not a man to give up easily.” He plucked the box off the counter. “I am certain my mother will be pleased with the hat.”

Setting his own hat on his head and tapping it into place, he crossed to the door and pulled it open, and disappeared out of the shop.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Even should his words prove true and her past not be a hurdle, she wasn’t interested in the young viscount. Her heart still yearned for Royal and until that pain went away, she simply couldn’t entertain thoughts of another man.

Lily returned to work in the back of the shop, greeted several other customers and sold one of them a lovely straw bonnet. She was surprised to realize it was almost closing time.

How quickly the time seemed to pass!
She supposed it was the result of doing something one so enjoyed.

She busied herself preparing to close out her daily accounts when the bell rang once more. As Royal walked into the shop, her heart did an unwanted skip. She told herself she was still angry at him for the cruel things he had said, but when she saw the misery in his face, her heart simply melted.

Royal stopped in front of her. He cleared his throat, looking nervous, as he rarely did. “I came here to apologize. I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean those things I said. I never cared about your past, and any man who holds feelings for you won’t care either. I was jealous. I know that is no excuse, but it’s true.”

Her eyes welled.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “I would cut out my heart before I would purposely do anything to hurt you.”

Her throat tightened. She loved him so much. “Royal…” And then she was in his arms, clinging to
him as he clung to her. He leaned toward her and she felt his cheek against hers.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Please say you’ll forgive me.”

“It’s all right, Royal.”

“Any man would be lucky to have you. Any man.”

She tried to smile. “It doesn’t matter. It only matters that you cared enough to come.”

He drew away to look at her. “I care, Lily. I care far too much.” She couldn’t resist the soft brush of his lips, the gentle way they settled over hers. It was a tender kiss that held a trace of longing and ended far too soon.

“I ache for you, Lily. You’re all I can think of. I don’t know how I am going to make a life without you.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, her heart beating painfully. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to. That is just the way life is.” She had learned that lesson when she was twelve years old and her parents had died, when she’d had to steal in order to eat.

Royal lifted his hand to her cheek. “My solicitor came by this morning. He says the tenants have signed a petition demanding improvements be made to their homes.” He looked into her eyes as if he willed her to understand. “I can’t let them down, Lily. I’ll have to borrow the money to see it done and eventually I’ll have to pay it back.”

She forced out the words. “As soon as you are…married, you’ll have all the money you need.”

He swallowed. “I know. I just…I wanted you to understand.”

Her throat ached. “I do understand, Royal.”

And it was breaking her heart.

She went back into his arms and Royal just held her. She was still clinging to him, pressing her cheek into his shoulder when the bell rang. Lily jerked out of his embrace and Royal stepped away, but it was too late.

Jocelyn and Matilda Caulfield stood frozen in the doorway, both of them wide-eyed with shock.

“Well, I daresay, this is certainly unexpected.” Matilda’s eyebrows climbed to her forehead.

“Please, you must let me explain—” Royal started.

“Do not further insult me by lying.” Matilda’s condemning stare moved to Lily. “I should have known. Once a mongrel, always a mongrel.”

Royal stiffened. “None of this is Lily’s fault. I took advantage. I am entirely to blame. Lily is innocent in any of this.”

It wasn’t true. She was at fault in everything that had happened. Guilt and shame washed over her. “I am sorry, Jo. I never meant to break your trust.”

Jocelyn ignored her. Instead, her furious gaze fixed on Royal. “I will not take her leavings. I will not marry a man who does not want me.”

“He’s a man, dear heart,” Matilda said flatly. “Men have needs. Your cousin was simply available to fulfill them.” She returned her hard gaze to Royal. “This marriage is going forward exactly as planned. Whatever has been going on between the two of you is over as of this minute. Do you understand?”

Royal’s jaw hardened. Lily read his anger and realized he was about to call off the wedding.

“The duke was merely amusing himself,” she said, stopping him before he could speak, knowing he would regret the words the instant they were spoken. “I never
meant for anything like this to happen and neither did His Grace.” She turned to Jo. “You are the woman he wants, Jocelyn. You always have been.”

Jo sniffed, flicked a glance at the duke, but seemed somewhat mollified. He was simply a man, her expression said, and easily led astray. She had never considered Lily any sort of competition and she did not now.

“From this day forward I shall expect your full attention,” Jo said. “We shall start with the opera tonight. I should like very much to sit in the Bransford box.”

Royal made no comment, but a muscle ticked in his cheek.

“And you, young woman,” Matilda said to Lily. “It is past time you moved out of our house. I believe you mentioned there was an apartment above the shop.”

Lily just nodded, misery washing over her in waves. “I will be gone by tomorrow.”

“Good riddance,” said Jo, though Lily thought she heard a note of regret in her cousin’s voice. Jo depended on Lily, who was her closest confidante. Lily felt the loss, too. Once they had been friends, a relationship Lily had managed to destroy.

“Then we are all in agreement,” Matilda said firmly. “What happened here shall go no further.” She fixed her cold stare on Royal. “I shan’t mention this deplorable display to Mr. Caulfield, and your engagement to my daughter shall stand. The announcement will be made at the ball Saturday night, as we had planned.”

Royal straightened to his full height. He didn’t look at Lily but instead made a bow to Jo. “My apologies, Jocelyn. I never meant to embarrass you and I shall not do so again.”

“Whatever you do after we are wed, I shall expect you to do it with discretion.”

Royal curtly nodded.

Nothing more was said as the group, including the duke, turned and walked out of the shop. Lily watched Royal escort the women to their carriage then climb into his own.

As the vehicles rolled away, Lily’s eyes welled with tears and the ache returned to her throat.

Inside her chest, her heart completely shattered.

“What do you mean he is indisposed?” Sherry spoke to Royal’s butler. He and Dillon St. Michaels stood on the front porch steps of the Duke of Bransford’s town house. “What is the matter with him?”

“His Grace is…well, he is not himself today. It would be better if you came back on the morrow.”

Sherry caught the little man’s shoulders, physically moved him aside and stepped into the house. Something was wrong—he could feel it. He strode down the hall toward the study, St. Michaels at his heels, but no one was there.

“Upstairs,” Dillon said and Sherry nodded.

“Wait, I beg you.” The butler threw his slight body between them as if he meant to sacrifice himself. “You mustn’t go up there.”

Which only made Sherry more determined. “Come on.” The men brushed past, taking the stairs two at a time then heading down the hall to the master’s suite. St. Michaels slammed a meaty fist against the door several times, but got no answer.

Sherry turned the knob, found the door unlocked and
walked into the room. Royal was sprawled on the sofa in front of the fire in the corner, an empty bottle of brandy lying on the table, a half-filled glass in one hand.

“Go away.”

“Good God—you’re bloody foxed,” Sherry said. “What in blazes has happened?”

Royal straightened a little, sloshing brandy over the rim of his glass. “I am getting married, that is what has happened—to the wrong woman.”

“That is old news, my friend,” said St. Michaels. “And certainly not what has driven you to drink yourself into a drunken stupor.”

Royal grunted. “I have given it my best effort, I admit. Unfortunately, I am not nearly—” he hiccupped “—drunk enough.”

Both men rolled their eyes.

“Matilda Caulfield found us together in Lily’s hat shop.” He sloshed down a gulp of brandy. “Jocelyn was with her.”

“Jocelyn didn’t call off the wedding?” Sherry asked, more than a little surprised.

Royal shook his head. “Her mother wouldn’t let her.” He gulped down more brandy. “I should have ended it no matter the cost. Lily is ruined because of me. It is my duty to make things right.”

“You can’t afford to marry a woman without two farthings in her purse,” said St. Michaels, being practical for once. “You’re a duke, man. You have duties, responsibilities.”

Royal sat forward on the small settee, hung his head and raked his hands through his hair. “I know.”

“What did Lily say when this happened?” Sherry asked.

“She told them it was her fault. She said she meant nothing to me, that she was only an amusement. She took the blame entirely and I let her.”