Page 2 of Forever and a Duke (The Bridewell Sisters #1)

CHAPTER 1

A pril 1891

“Can you hear anything?” Daphne’s whisper came first. Light and sweet, as if she wasn’t certain she should dare interrupt.

“Let me have a try,” Ivy put in vehemently. She’d just turned seventeen, read Mary Wollstonecraft and detective novels, and said almost everything vehemently.

“Both of you must be quiet if this is to work.” To emphasize her words, Lily Bridewell lifted a finger to her lips, then steadied her breath, trying to shut out all other sounds.

Listening intently, she held her stethoscope against the damask-papered wall. In the room on the other side, she heard movement but no words.

Metal clattered as if their cousin and his associate were going through the silverware drawers. Then came the scrape of porcelain on porcelain.

Lily closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer that they wouldn’t chip Mama’s favorite china set. It was painted with pink roses and the prettiest purple violets and had only come out for the most special occasions.

“What can you hear?” Ivy demanded as she huddled behind Daphne at Lily’s side.

“Shh, they’re beginning to talk,” Lily told her in a whisper.

She couldn’t bear to report the bit about them manhandling the dinnerware.

One voice was quite recognizably her cousin Edwin, though she could not make out what he was saying. The other man’s tone was deeper and seemed little more than a sound of assent.

“Well?” Ivy shout-whispered, her face scrunched in worry.

“They’re going through the items in the sideboard, I think.”

“That makes sense,” Daphne put in quietly and with her usual equanimity.

When Lily and Ivy swung their gazes her way, her blue eyes widened.

“What?” she said in a defensive tone. “He’s inherited the house and all that’s in it. He’s curious.”

Lily pulled her stethoscope from the wall and let out a heavy sigh. Of course, Daphne was right. Knowing Edwin as they did, none of them should have been surprised he’d show up and tally the worth of everything. He’d brought a solicitor with him, for goodness sakes.

“But they’re our belongings.” Ivy slumped down onto a chair and crossed her arms.

“Not anymore.” Daphne’s soft interjection was tinged with so much sadness that Lily swallowed against a lump in her throat.

The truth of her sister’s words settled over the room like a gloom-filled cloud.

It had been six months since their brother’s death. They were just out of their months of mourning black, according to the dictates of polite society. Yet their cousin’s arrival and what it portended about their futures dredged up all the pain of losing Leo, making the grief feel suddenly fresh and raw.

She reached out to wrap an arm around Daphne’s slim shoulders and Ivy rose from her chair to pull both of them into an embrace. They’d done the same many times in the past handful of months, requiring no words, just closeness.

Their younger twin sisters had been hugged and comforted aplenty too. Hyacinth and Marigold had come late in their parent’s marriage and were only on the cusp of turning ten. Daphne and Ivy were but two years apart in age, and Lily had been an only child for four years until Daphne came along.

Lily felt she could speak to her two eldest sisters openly about the loss of their brother and the possibility of losing their family home as a result. But they’d all agreed that the twins should be sheltered from such hard truths as long as possible.

And there’d been many hard truths to accept in the past six months.

Lily learned that the course of one’s life could change in the blink of an eye and by circumstances beyond one’s control. No amount of tears or prayers or willpower could alter what had befallen their family.

But she’d also learned that life went on, even if your heart did not feel ready for it. Even if memories clung to you, pulling you back into happier times. Even if you cursed today for not being what once had been.

They’d struggled most in the winter. Leo’s birthday came and went, and they all agreed that they’d half-expected him to burst through the door, bringing his usual charm and joviality with him. Then their first holiday season without him passed, cold and somber. But the first hint of spring had brought gentle rains and cool breezes. Even now, the trees outside the music room window danced and swayed in the wind. Below them, snowdrops and crocuses shot up through the grass in bursts of white and purple.

So much beauty on a day she and her sisters had been dreading for months.

When Leo had lost his life at the hands of London ruffians and their cousin had inherited the only home she and her sisters had ever known, they’d understood that he would eventually take possession. In a letter of condolence, he’d said he was willing to wait. Lily thought that meant affording them a full year of mourning. Apparently, she’d ascribed more patience to her cousin than the man possessed.

“What do you think he’s going to do?” Daphne asked in her usual soft tone.

She twisted the two ribbons hanging from the front of her gown into a tight knot and cast worried glances at the wall to their left. Their cousin’s arrival had worn away at her natural serenity.

“He’s going to make a full assessment, I expect.” Inspection was probably a more accurate word. Their cousin, Edwin Bridewell, now bearing their father’s—and oh so briefly their brother’s—title of Lord Dashford, hadn’t given them much notice. A letter had arrived from Edwin but a day before he had, informing Lily of his plan to visit. He’d arrived quite early in the morning. Eager, it seemed, to inspect the modest country home that would now be his.

From the dining room, even without a stethoscope against the wall, they heard the squeak of hinges and crack of wood on wood as drawers and cabinets were opened and closed.

The wait for their cousin to finish sifting their valuables was maddening, and Lily loathed inaction. Daphne had inherited most of their father’s patience. That virtue had somehow skipped Ivy entirely and Lily’s portion wore thin at moments like these.

“Perhaps I should go and speak to him.” As the eldest, Lily felt responsible for her four younger sisters. When she spoke to Edwin, it would be on behalf of all of them. Fate had put their futures in his hands, though her stomach twisted at the prospect of appealing to her cousin’s sense of compassion.

Mostly because she wasn’t certain he possessed any.

Four years older, he’d always been one to lord his seniority over her since they were children. Even in his youth, he’d taken great pleasure in teasing that one day he would be lord of Briarfield. Back then, Lily had never worried. Papa had been healthy and full of life. And Leo seemed to emerge from every reckless endeavor unscathed.

But then Papa had fallen ill, and Leo had tempted fate one too many times.

“We might as well let him finish,” Ivy said with her usual practicality. “I suspect he won’t stop until every single valuable has been tallied.”

“Then I’ll speak to him as soon as he’s finished.” Lily put a bit of their late mother’s determination into her tone. “But do not fear. We have options.”

“You mean when he casts us from our home without a farthing?” Ivy was nearly as cynical as she was bold.

“We don’t know that he will,” Daphne admonished gently. “We don’t truly know his plans.”

“But we do know his nature.” Ivy laid her book aside and strode toward the wall that separated the music and dining rooms. She laid her ear against the wallpaper.

Lily cleared her throat.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to speak to both of you about that.” Lily sat in one of the room’s overstuffed chairs and loosened her hold on the letter she’d pulled from her skirt pocket. “I didn’t know if we should wait until the twins come down.”

“If it’s bad news, we should spare them,” Ivy put in decidedly.

She was as sure of her opinion as anyone Lily had ever known, but Ivy hadn’t yet wept for the loss of their brother. That worried her. Not because she didn’t think Ivy felt the loss, but because she knew that, despite her sister’s passionate nature, she tended to keep her deepest feelings bottled up.

Lily smoothed out the letter on her lap. “I’ve had a reply from Aunt Margaret.”

Both girls focused on her intently.

Lily bit her lip. What their aunt offered probably seemed generous, but it would overthrow both of her sister’s aspirations for their futures. Not to mention Lily’s own.

“She says that she knows of two families in need of governesses,” Lily began, “and is willing to put myself and Daphne forward as candidates.”

“No,” Ivy strode to the center of the room, her hands planted on her hips.

“Let me finish,” Lily said, though her own throat burned at what came next. “She would like to train you, Ivy, to be her companion. She says she is busy with many charitable endeavors?—“

“This is madness,” Ivy cut in. “You can’t be seriously considering such a fate. And what of the twins?“

Their elderly aunt thought the twins would be too much for her to manage, but she suggested Edwin could take them in after he married, which he seemed quite determined to do soon.

Lily’s stomach roiled at the prospect of telling her sisters that the man currently rifling through their silverware had been suggested as Hyacinth and Marigold’s guardian.

“So there will be no coming out,” Daphne said on a shuddery exhale.

“I’m sorry.” Lily’s heart ached with a sharp pain she knew would only deepen as the life they’d known came apart at the seams. Especially if they were all forced to go their separate ways.

“We should run away,” Ivy said matter-of-factly, as if it was at all a reasonable option. “We could go to France.”

“There are no more options in France than here,” Lily told her, trying for logic, which Ivy did possess a great deal of, despite her passionate nature.

“And we know no one,” Daphne put in. “At least here, there are some who might take pity on us.”

“Then we should we begin a list.” Ivy strode to the chair she’d abandoned and scooped up the notebook and pen she always kept nearby.

“The Kingsleys,” Daphne offered immediately.

Lily bit her tongue. The Kingsleys were the highest-ranked family of their acquaintance, with the grandest properties and royal blood in their veins, and the man who’d just inherited all of it—and become Duke of Edgerton—had been a friend of their brother’s. His best friend. Indeed, they’d been together that fateful night in London.

He’d never spoken to her of the details, but he’d watched her intently at the funeral. His gaze had seemed to follow her every movement. Which was terribly strange, since Griffin Kingsley had rarely noticed her much prior to that day.

The mortifying part was that she’d spent years wishing he would notice her. Strikingly handsome with dark gold hair and stormy blue eyes, Lily found it impossible to ignore the man whenever he was in her vicinity. But her interest had never been reciprocated. He’d only ever addressed her with simple amiability, as he had her sisters, when visiting Leo at home.

“I’m almost done,” Ivy proclaimed as she scribbled furiously, apparently assembling a list far beyond Daphne’s suggestion.

In her own mind, Lily could think of very few friends, family members, or acquaintances who’d be willing to house five Bridewell sisters.

A rap on the music door stilled them all.

Lily cast her gaze at Daphne and Ivy, though she knew it was her task to face the man on the other side of the polished oak panel.

Before she could offer any reply, Edwin swung the door open.

“May I speak to you, Cousin?” He stared straight at Lily, leaving no doubt which cousin he meant. And he hadn’t entered the room, indicating that she should join him in the hall.

“Of course,” Lily replied and then rose from her chair.

Edwin offered one sweeping gaze and a nod of his head to Daphne and Ivy before lifting an arm, urging Lily to join him.

When she did, he closed the music room door and started off down the hall without a word. Apparently, Lily was expected to follow. His brusque manner grated at her frayed nerves.

He stopped in front their father’s study. For a brief time, Leo’s study, though even he had continued to refer to it as Papa’s. Lily used it now as her space for managing the household.

For a moment, she wondered if Edwin might ask her permission to enter.

“I’d prefer we had this conversation privately, if that suits you,” he said with a brief glance back at her.

“I…” Lily swallowed hard. How could she refuse him when the house was his by the laws of England?

He took her single syllable as agreement and opened the door.

Inside, Edwin stopped immediately and looked around as if confused. His gaze swept over the vase of flowers on the desk, the pastel pillows in the window seat, and a small pile of books Lily had left on the settee.

“You’ve been using this room?” There was more shock than accusation in his tone.

“Yes, it seemed practical. All of the accounting ledgers are in here, and the books—“ Lily stopped herself from saying more. Edwin did not need to know that she had claimed her father’s medical books as her own and had been studying them for years.

“This house and its contents mean a great deal to you.”

“Of course they do.”

He crossed his arms and wandered the room. Clearly, this was one space he had yet to subject to a thorough inspection. Then he pivoted suddenly, and all his focus fell on Lily.

She endured it, trying to muster a smile.

“I must return to London for a matter in the Lords, so I shall not waste your time or mine.” He lifted his hand and waved it in an arc to encompass the study and the pile of ledgers. “You’ve taken on a great deal since your brother’s death.”

Lily flinched, and his gaze softened a bit.

“Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I don’t believe in prevarication.”

“I prefer plain-speaking, Cousin.”

His mouth tightened then, and Lily wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t seen the man in years. Indeed, the last time she had seen him, he’d been a cruel teenager with a particular loathing for Leo. At the time, she’d thought it must be jealousy, since Leo was handsome and convivial and everything Edwin was not.

“I need to marry.” He flicked his gaze to her mouth, then down as if taking in her gown. Or worse, inspecting her figure.

Lily swallowed so hard her throat ached, and a chill raced down her back, for she suspected what might come next.

“You have no wish to leave your home. If you did, you could have married years ago.”

“I…” Lily started to explain that marriage had not been an option when she’d been left as the sole caretaker of her family —first after Mama’s death, then Papa’s, then Leo’s. But the way Edwin gaped at her unsettled her so much that she couldn’t find the words.

“If we marry, you can become mistress of Briarfield for the rest of your life. Provide me with an heir, and you may teach our child to value it too.”

A chill that had raced down her back a moment before now settled in her bones. Lily shivered as if a winter wind had blasted through the room. Yet her face felt hot, flushed. Panic twisted her belly into knots.

Edwin’s brow pleated in a frown. “Are you unwell?”

“I fear I am. Would you excuse me a moment?”

He approached then, far too close, and she barely resisted the urge to hold out her arm to keep him at bay. Instead, she forced herself to keep still.

“Do consider my offer,” he said firmly. “I will require an answer within the hour. It is only fair that you and your sisters know your fate before I return to London.”

Lily nodded and turned to depart, but he grasped her upper arm, holding her in place. He tugged her closer as the strangest grin caused his upper lip to curl.

“We would rub on well together, you and I.” His gaze locked on her mouth once more.

Lily arched away from him. “I am unwell, Cousin. Perhaps I’ve fallen ill, and you wouldn’t wish to catch it.”

He jerked back as if he feared she’d give him the plague.

“I must lie down.”

When he nodded curtly, Lily spun and dashed from the room. She pulled the door closed behind her, wishing she’d never been fool enough to join him in the study alone.

But how could she know he’d make such an outrageous offer? It made her skin crawl and her stomach riot. She hadn’t entirely fibbed when she’d said she was unwell.

Clutching her stomach, she rushed into the music room. She slammed the door shut, pressing her back to it as she faced her sisters.

Daphne shot up from the settee.

“What’s the matter?” she rushed over, then lifted a hand to Lily’s cheek. “You’re holding your breath. Let it out. Breathe.”

Lily dragged in long gasping breaths. She pressed her palm to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow.

“You’re flushed and look angry. Did he toss us out?” Ivy demanded, fists planted on her hips. “The rotter.”

“He did not toss us out,” Lily finally managed. “He offered a…solution.” She swung her gaze from Daphne’s sweet blue eyes, filled with worry, to Ivy’s moss-green gaze that was full of thunder. After a gulp, she confessed the offer that made her want to cast up her accounts. “If I marry him, we can all stay.”

“No,” Daphne whispered, a hand against her throat.

“No!” Ivy said more loudly and emphatically. “You cannot marry him.”

Her own heart echoed the same sentiment. No, she could never, ever imagine being Edwin’s wife. He was her cousin, for heaven’s sake. One who’d bullied her throughout childhood. Everything in Lily revolted at the prospect, but then she looked at her sisters. Guilt welled up to push away the revulsion. She considered the stability it would offer them. That’s what they all wanted most—to remain in their beloved home.

As Lily’s mind spun, Ivy tapped her lower lip and paced the floral rug their mother had adored so much.

After a few moments, Ivy stopped and turned to both of them. “This calls for desperate measures.”