Page 5 of Forever and a Duke (The Bridewell Sisters #1)

CHAPTER 4

L ily had always been the one with answers. When her little sisters needed her, when she found a wounded creature, when her brother—who’d been just two years older—came to her for advice about some scrape he’d gotten into. Logic rarely failed her, and she’d trained herself long ago to remain calm when others panicked.

But now her own emotions were rioting, her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and she had no answer to give the confounding man in front of her.

How does that sound, Lily?

It sounded like madness.

What on earth was happening? Spinsters of four and twenty did not receive two marriage proposals in one day. And a penniless spinster with four sisters to manage did not dare to dream a man like Griffin Kingsley would offer to make her his duchess.

Yet she’d had years of childish teasing from him and her brother, and she could see in those stormy blue eyes of his that he was utterly and madly in earnest.

In fact, the longer she hesitated to give him an answer, the more distressed he appeared.

“Lily? You’ve gone white as chalk.”

He drew closer, but she lifted a hand to keep him back. If he touched her again, it would be harder to regain any sort of equilibrium.

But he mistook her gesture and folded his own large, warm hand around hers, holding it gently, as if he wished for nothing more than to give her comfort.

“I’m not going to faint,” she insisted as much to herself as to him.

He smiled that breathtaking smile of his that had always put a little flutter in her belly. “You’re the least likely to swoon of any lady I’ve ever met.”

“If you’re offering this...union between us in order to be heroic, you needn’t.”

A frown pulled his bronze brows together. “I’m no hero and never will be. It’s a practical solution for both of us.”

Lily knew Griffin too well to not suspect his need for heroism wasn’t woven into this wild offer. She’d watched him struggle to outdo his older brother and win his father’s approval for so many years, and she knew it had sometimes caused him to doubt his own worth.

“This is for life, Griffin, not something to offer lightly.”

“Do you not believe I am sincere?” His brows arched up in question. “How can I convince you?” He drew a little closer, and she couldn’t help but breathe in his scent of coffee and juniper and rain-damp linen. “I know you deserve a proper courtship?—”

“No! I’m not asking for that. I’m not asking for anything.” She slipped her hand from his. “This makes no sense.” Lifting a hand to her head, she rubbed at her temple as if she could summon logic and cool reason that way.

“It’s the most sensible decision I’ve made in years. Perhaps in my whole life.” He stood patiently. And his very sincerity worked on her, the appeal of it—of him —outweighing all the warring feelings surging through her.

She had secretly yearned for him for so long. But then she’d cured herself of it, reasoning that to hold onto such childish wistfulness was silly. Pointless. Especially after he’d inherited his father’s title.

Yet now, here he stood, his dark blond hair wild and curled from the rain, his clothes rumpled, and his cuffs muddy from the dirt he’d helped deposit on the buried trunk. She found herself caught up in studying his mouth, the breadth of his chest, the width of his muscular shoulders.

Heavens, she wanted to agree to this rash scheme. This marriage to the man she’d dreamed of far too often. And not just for practical reasons, though those were myriad. As the sisters of a duke, Daphne, Ivy, Marigold, and Hyacinth would have a world of options she could never give them in any other way.

A knock at the sitting room door nearly made her jump out of her boots. How long had she stood staring at him like a ninny?

A moment later, Daphne slipped into the room.

“Goodness.” Her soft voice belied the shock in her gaze. “You two look as if you’ve been dragged along the creek bed.”

“We were caught out in the rain,” Griffin told her breezily.

But Daphne was no fool and focused in on the mud on Lily’s hem and Griffin’s shirtsleeves. Then her gaze flashed up to Lily’s.

“He helped you bury it,” she said in an amused tone. “I suppose thanks are in order, Your Grace.”

He offered a silly, dramatic bow. “’Tis always my pleasure to assist the Bridewell sisters.”

Daphne giggled. He had that effect on all of them.

Then she immediately quieted, her expression pinched and serious. “I’ve come because I heard Edwin ask Ivy to fetch you to him in the study. I caught her in the hall and assured her I would do the task.”

She flicked a look at Griffin and then Lily. “I suspect he wants his answer. And there’s more.”

“What more?” Griffin asked her.

“The vicar arrived not ten minutes ago. He can’t expect you to marry him today, this minute, can he?”

Lily’s heart thudded against her ribcage as if trying to escape. She felt trapped, desperate. And then she glanced over at Griffin. There wasn’t a hint of worry in his gray-blue eyes, not a single indication that he doubted or regretted what he’d offered her. In fact, what she saw when she looked into his eyes was concern for her and what seemed like a plea.

“I doubt he’s obtained a special license, but regardless, I won’t let him force you to do anything,” he told her softly. “Whatever your answer to me, you will always have my aid and support, but?—”

“I know.” Protecting all of her sisters would be so much easier if she were a duchess.

She pressed her lips together, closed her eyes a moment, and sent up a little prayer that she was choosing rightly, that her parents would have approved, that Leo would have given his blessing.

A wash of calm rushed through her once she’d decided, though as soon as she looked at Griffin, that flutter in her middle started up again.

And he knew. Somehow, he sensed that she had made her choice.

He smiled with such relief that it made a sweet warmth bloom in her chest. She still couldn’t make sense of any this, but it seemed he truly wanted her as his duchess, so she grinned too.

“What’s happening?” Daphne whispered.

“Griffin has asked me to marry him.”

Daphne gasped, clapped her hand over her mouth, and bounced in place as if she could not contain her excitement. Of course, she knew how heartsore Lily had sometimes been over her feelings for him. She was the only one Lily had confided in.

“And you’ve said yes?” Daphne asked, smiling and all but vibrating with glee.

Lily fixed her gaze on Griffin. “Yes.” Then she turned to her sister. “Do you approve?”

In answer, Daphne flew across the room and pulled Lily into a joyful embrace. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered. Then more loudly, “Of course, I approve.”

Lily held onto Daphne’s hand. “I want to tell Ivy and the girls before I say anything to Edwin.”

A knock sounded at the sitting room door that Daphne had pulled closed behind her.

Her blue eyes bloomed bigger. “I’m not sure he’ll wait that long.”

“Then we’ll do it together,” Griffin told Lily.

He’d drawn closer. Then he offered her his hand, and she savored the feel of his skin against hers when she took it.

“Ready?” he asked her.

“You’re going to tell him in only one boot?” Daphne seemed to be the only one to notice that he stood with one foot bare.

“If need be.” Griffin chuckled. “But give me a moment, and I shall remedy that.”

He bent to slide his boot back on.

“Careful,” Lily reminded him.

“It feels a great deal better. You have the healing touch, Miss Bridewell.” He winked at her.

Winked. Griffin Kingsley, who’d never once asked her to dance at any ball they’d both attended, was winking at her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As soon as he straightened, he reached for her hand once again. This time tucking it over his arm.

“Let’s go give your cousin the news.”

“And then Ivy and Mari and Cinthy.”

Daphne nodded, strode across the room, and then pulled the door open.

Lily was not at all surprised to see her cousin on the threshold, looking even more cross than he had earlier.

“Is there some reason why I continually find you all conspiring together in this room?”

Griffin’s instinct was to charge straight into announcing their betrothal to Lily’s cousin, but he sensed from her fretful expression that a lighter tread was called for.

For better or worse, this man was her closest relation, and he suspected she wanted to remain on good terms with him to whatever extent she could.

So Griffin waited, forcing himself to be patient.

Lily stepped forward after a moment’s hesitation, forcing Griffin to release her. “Cousin, I know you’re awaiting an answer from me. I do have one for you, but it’s not the one you’re expecting. Indeed, it wasn’t the answer I was expecting to give.”

She turned to glance at Griffin, and he infused a smile with as much reassurance as he could.

“What’s the meaning of all this?” Dashford grumbled.

Lily drew in a breath. “I regret whatever disappointment this might cause you, Cousin. Would you like us to tell you here, or shall we do it in the study?”

Dashford looked at all of them as if dumbfounded. His jaw moved, but no words emerged. Then he waved a hand as if commanding them. “Get on with it. Do it here.”

“Very well,” Lily said quietly.

“Just so you know,” he ground out, “the vicar is in my study, waiting for us to join him, but I suspect whatever you have to say may change the course of our conversation with him.”

Griffin stepped forward and reached for her hand again. When she slipped her palm against his, he couldn’t keep from smiling.

Dashford noticed and glowered at both of them.

Griffin gave Lily’s hand a gentle squeeze, a signal to her that he was willing to do the deed. She glanced over and gave him a little nod.

“Dashford, I’ve asked Miss Bridewell to be my wife, and she has consented.”

The man stared, mouth agape, at Lily, then Griffin, confusion writ large on his pasty features.

“I confess I do not understand,” he stated loudly.

Griffin frowned. He hadn’t expected the man’s intellect to fail him. He’d anticipated anger, perhaps even rage. It was all simple enough.

Dashford stepped closer. “You never told me that you had any other suitors,” he growled, his glare on Lily. “You might have mentioned that when I put my question to you.”

She looked down at the carpet.

Griffin had had enough. “Miss Bridewell did not expect my proposal, but she’s accepted it. That is the end of it, Dashford.” He suffused every ounce of ducal arrogance into his tone.

The man had every right to be disappointed, but Lily had done nothing wrong.

“Betrothals are brokered every day in the ton,” Daphne offered in her soft, low-pitched voice. “Sometimes it takes years of scheming, moving people into place like chess pieces. Sometimes it’s but a few dances on the marriage mart during the Season. And sometimes, two people simply decide one day and know it is the right course.”

Lily squeezed Griffin’s hand as she looked at her younger sister with a kind of gentle awe.

Even Dashford seemed softened by Daphne’s earnest attempt at tempering the moment’s high emotions. The man seemed to transform, standing a bit straighter and tugging at his lapels before notching up his chin and locking gazes with Griffin.

“It seems congratulations are in order, Edgerton.” He turned to Lily, and Griffin thought his expression might be genuine regret. “And to you, Cousin.”

He swung back to Griffin. “I have had occasion to meet your grandmother. I wonder what she will say to this precipitous proposal.”

Griffin sensed Lily and Daphne turning their attention his way. But he would not offer Dashford any reaction to his baiting question. He stared at the man and thought of the sort of duchess Lily would be.

He had no doubts. If this resentful man thought he could provoke some, he was gravely mistaken.

“She will be thrilled, I assure you.”

Dashford quirked one thin dark brow. “Then it shall be blessings all around.” He sniffed. “Perhaps you’d like to speak to the vicar, Edgerton. Arrange for the banns and whatnot.”

“No need,” Griffin told him with a grin. “A special license will be in my hands directly.”

A moment of shock played across Dashford’s features. Then the congenial mask he’d tried donning slipped away. “I see,” he managed through clenched teeth. Then he turned and bolted from the room.

“Heavens,” Daphne murmured. “I thought he’d take it with more grace.”

“I didn’t,” Lily said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think we can reside at Briarfield much longer with him so displeased.”

“You can begin moving into Rosemere immediately, as far as I’m concerned.”

“We couldn’t. Not before we’re married.” Lily released his hand and shook her head, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

“My grandmother and the entire staff will be there to chaperone you if that’s your concern.”

“It just seems improper,” Daphne agreed.

Griffin didn’t want to start their life together with worry weighing down Lily and her sisters. “I’ll go and speak to Dashford. Make it clear that whatever disappointment he feels should not affect your ability to remain here until we’re wed.”

“I hope he’s amenable,” Lily said.

Daphne looked doubtful. “I understand you’re to join us at table this evening. Perhaps we should dine with him alone this evening. Not rub all of this in his face,” she said quietly.

“Very well. I’ll make my excuses to him when I secure his agreement for you to remain at Briarfield for now.” Griffin looked at each sister before offering Lily a smile. “He will be amenable.” Griffin would offer the man money, if necessary. Or access. Or some privilege he did not now possess. “And you may all pack your belongings at your leisure. No more hiding treasures away for fear he’ll take them.”

Lily stared at him a moment and then nodded, seemingly with the same sense of resolve he felt deep in his bones. This was right. He knew it. All would be well.

“Daphne,” Lily called, though her gaze was still fixed on his. “Will you gather Ivy and the twins and assemble in my bedchamber? I want to tell them where we’ll have privacy.”

“Of course.” Daphne shot Griffin a warm smile before she departed.

When she’d gone, Lily drew closer. “Do you think the dowager will disapprove as Edwin implied?”

“No.” Griffin knew his grandmother. Dashford did not.

Whatever reservations she might initially express—if only because she’d had no part in choosing his bride—would be overcome.

Leo had endeared himself to Griffin’s grandmother long ago, and she’d found all the sisters she had met to be charming too. Yes, charming was the word she used.

How could she be surprised he would be taken by Lily? Even if it hadn’t happened exactly that way. Even if he wanted to help the sisters of a man he had led to his demise.

Grandmama would come to see Lily the way Griffin did.

“She will offer us her felicitations, and all will be well. I’m sure of it,” he assured her.

Now he just had to convince his grandmother. Show her how certain he was of this decision.

She would be pleased. Wouldn’t she?