Page 20

Frederick was in an agony of suspense. It had only been twenty-six hours since he’d asked for Lily’s hand, but every minute seemed like an eternity, and all the waiting had tied his stomach up in knots.

He couldn’t seem to sit still longer than a few seconds before he was up again, pacing the floor, wearing thin every rug in his sister’s house.

Finally, when he could not stand being indoors a single moment longer, he ventured out into the crisp morning air, wonderfully fresh and cool and ripe with the scents of wood smoke and autumn leaves.

He walked with purpose, though he had none, except to show mercy on Penelope’s rugs, and try to escape his obsessive thoughts.

Still, even as he marched briskly up the lane, arms slicing, boots crunching, with the scenic Hampshire countryside all around, his mind was on Lily and the question he’d asked her.

What would her answer be? Would she accept his proposal, or would she turn him down?

He’d had very little time to plead his case, much less than a moment like that deserved, but he’d done his best with what he’d been given. He only hoped his best was good enough, if not to have won her hand, then at least to have earned himself a second chance at winning it.

There was so much more he wanted to tell her, so much still left to say, and he prayed she would give him the chance to say it.

He drew in a deep breath and intentionally slowed his pace. He’d hoped a walk would clear his mind, but he could see now that it had been a fool’s errand. There would be no outrunning his thoughts, or his worry.

What if Lily wouldn’t have him? What if she turned him away?

Her heart had been injured once before, and he was asking her to risk it again, to put her faith in him, and trust that he would not fail her. What if she decided he wasn’t worth the risk?

No. He couldn’t think that way. He loved her, damn it, and he wanted to share his life with her. He had no desire to return to London. There was nothing for him there, nothing but frivolous parties and meaningless affairs, neither of which held a thread of interest for him now.

He wanted to stay here in Little Bilberry and run The Weeping Whiskers with Lily at his side, as his wife, his partner.

And all he could do now was wait and hope she would tell him she wanted that, too.

Tipping his head back, Frederick closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath as he let the sun warm his face. He focused on the solid earth beneath his boots, the swell of his chest as oxygen filled his lungs, the sonorous lowing of a cow in the distance.

His eyes popped open, and he stopped in his tracks to sweep his gaze across the expanse of open field beside him.

There, a short distance off, was Blythe, happily munching away on the wild grass.

Frederick chuckled to himself. It seemed the sweet girl had escaped her stall again. Making his way into the field, he tromped through the grass toward the grazing cow and had nearly reached her when a voice called out Blythe’s name.

Lily’s voice.

Heart thudding, he turned toward the road and spotted her just as she came into view, her gray skirts snapping with each brisk stride.

She noticed Blythe first and headed into the field after her. Frederick parted his lips to call out to her, but then, as if sensing his presence, her steps faltered, and her gaze shot to his.

Frederick raised a hand in greeting, and Lily, her expression unreadable, returned the gesture before continuing on toward Blythe. Frederick followed suit, and the two came together beside the still-grazing cow.

“Blythe, you naughty girl,” Lily murmured, giving the fugitive a scratch behind one ear. “You know very well you’re not supposed to be in Mr. Richardson’s field.”

Frederick’s gaze was fixed on Lily’s face, combing for clues, but her expression revealed nothing of her thoughts, or her intentions.

“Come,” she said to Blythe. “Let’s get you home.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Frederick said hopefully. “If you and Blythe have no objections, of course.”

Finally her eyes met his, her small smile uncertain but not unwelcoming. “I can’t speak for Blythe,” she said, “but I have no objections.”

Relief swept over him as they set off slowly toward the lane, Lily at his side, leading a cooperative Blythe by the rope around her neck.

The impulse to ask if she had made her decision was almost ungovernable, but he held it back. He would not pressure her. He’d asked her to consider his proposal, and he would allow her to do just that, in her own time, no matter how desperately he wanted her answer now.

Clearing his throat, he glanced over at Lily, whose gaze was on the grass at her feet, the morning sunbathing her in its golden glow and glinting off her sable hair.

“How are you getting on with your sister?” he asked, before he started spouting off odes to her beauty.

“Surprisingly well,” she said with a small smile. “Dinner last night was a little awkward, but Rose and I talked this morning, and I think we’re friends again. Or, at least, on our way to being friends.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Lily.”

She nodded. “I’ve missed her.”

“And your brother-in-law?” he asked, in a shameless and obvious attempt to root out her feelings for her former betrothed.

“I have not missed him,” she replied promptly but without malice.

Blythe gave a soft low, as if expressing her approval, and Frederick huffed out a laugh, even as relief lightened his heart.

“He would not have made me happy,” Lily said quietly, as if speaking to herself. “But he and my sister seem happy together. They’re going to have a baby.”

“Ah. Well. A baby is always good news.”

“Rose is more excited than I’ve ever seen her.” She smiled. “I’m happy for them. And a little relieved, too.”

“Relieved?” Frederick asked, unsure of her meaning.

“I wasn’t sure I would ever forgive them, let alone be happy for them.” She drew in a breath, her gaze lifting to the sky. “It feels good. I feel good.”

The contentment in her voice brought a smile to his lips. “That’s wonderful, Lily,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from tugging her to him.

She deserved to feel good, and he wanted to hear those words from her lips every day for the rest of his life.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say so; to plead his case and list his good points and all the reasons she would be a fool not to marry him.

And if that didn’t work, fall to his knees and beg.

But Lily’s soft voice speaking his name restrained him and drew his gaze to hers.

“Yes, Lily?”

“Were you in earnest?” Her brow was furrowed, her cheeks flushed pink. “About wanting to marry me? About...loving me?”

His heart stuttered, and when she slowed to a stop and turned to face him, he did the same, his pulse galloping under the scrutiny of her blue-green eyes.

“I was,” he said, the words rough. “I am , Lily. I am in earnest.”

He did not make a habit of proposing marriage or making avowals of love he did not mean. Lily was the first woman he’d ever loved and, he hoped, the last and only.

“Do you want children?”

Frederick blinked. The abruptness of the question caught him off guard, but it was a reasonable query.

Being a father wasn’t something he’d thought much about, but he’d always liked children, and these last several days with his nieces and nephews made him think he might enjoy raising a brood of his own.

With Lily, of course.

“Yes, I would like to be a father,” he said simply.

“Then before we go any further with this discussion, there is something I must confess.” She swallowed nervously, her gaze on Blythe as she scratched the cow’s chin, avoiding his gaze. “I cannot in good conscience accept your proposal until I’ve been completely honest with you.”

She looked at him then, her expression gravely serious. “I am not in the first blush of youth, Frederick. I will be thirty in December.”

Frederick couldn’t help it. He smiled. “As old as that?”

Her frown told him she did not appreciate his teasing. “Older than you,” she said. “Five years older.”

“Not even four and half,” he corrected. “And I don’t care a whit about your age.”

“Perhaps you should,” she shot back, folding her arms over her chest. “A younger wife might give you more children.”

Frederick shook his head slowly. “I don’t care about that,” he said again. “I want you , Lily. I love you. And I would rather have no children with the woman I love than ten with anyone else.”

She stared up at him for a torturously long moment, the breeze rustling the dark, wispy curls framing her soft pink cheeks.

“Right,” she finally said, unfolding her arms to clasp her hands at her front. “In that case, yes. I will marry you, Frederick.”

Her words were brisk and dispassionate, and it took more than a moment for their meaning to sink in.

“You will…” He trailed off, staring at her, his heart pounding in his ears. “Are you certain?”

Her lips parted and she blinked up at him. “That is not the response I was expecting to receive.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing at his cheek. “I think I was caught off guard by your acceptance.”

She cocked her head to one side. “You expected me to refuse?”

“No. Not exactly. But I think I was hoping for a warmer acceptance. Perhaps a summation of the many reasons you want me for your husband? Or, better yet, a declaration of your undying love?”

He tried for a teasing tone, but Lily seemed to see right through him, her gaze softening before falling to his chest. “There are...conditions I must discuss with you first.”

“Conditions?” He had not expected her to have conditions.

“Well, only one, really,” she said, toeing the grass with one boot. Then she drew in a breath and looked at him. “I want a long betrothal, Frederick. I want to be sure we’re suited to each other, and that our feelings are not fleeting. I want you to be sure this is truly the life you want.”

Frederick suppressed the urge to take her hands in his. “It is , Lily. I’m already sure.”

She nodded. “And I believe you. I do. But you cannot deny the fact that we’ve known each other for a very short time. Marriage is a lifelong commitment. There can be no harm in waiting a little while. Just to be certain.”

Her eyes searched his, questioning, hopeful, and Frederick’s heart squeezed.

He was already certain, more certain than he’d ever been about anything, but he could understand her need to be careful. She’d been hurt before. She’d been certain before and her trust was betrayed. It was not surprising that she would wish to prevent that from happening again.

And so, even though there was no doubt in either his mind or his heart, he would give in to her wishes.

“You’re right,” he said. “There is no harm in waiting.”

Lily’s entire face lit up, and he knew he’d made the right decision. “Truly?” she asked. “You don’t mind?”

A wry smile curved his lips. “I admit, I’m not thrilled. I’d marry you today if you’d let me, but I do understand why you wish to be cautious. And I’m more than willing to wait for you, Lily. However long you need me to.”

She took his hands in hers, her eyes shining. “You are a decent man, Frederick Darrington. Your decency is just one of the reasons I want you for my husband. Your kind and giving heart is another. But it was your smile that made me fall in love with you.”

The words washed over him, lighting him up inside, and a smile slowly spread across his face.

Lily surged up on her toes and brushed his lips with hers. “I love your smile.” She kissed him again. “I love you .”

Frederick’s arms closed around her and he dragged her into him, pressing his face in her soft hair. “I love you. God, I love you. With all that I am and all that I hope to be. I am yours, Lily. Always.”

The heavy weight of worry lifted from Lily’s shoulders and a warm, joyful glow grew in its place, spreading through her body until she feared she might burst with it.

Frederick loved her and he wanted to marry her, and he was willing to wait until she was ready. Surely she was the luckiest girl in England.

Either that, or she was dreaming.

Rather than pinch herself, she kissed her betrothed again, delighting in the sweet press of Frederick’s lips, the hungry caress of his hands at her back.

No. This was no dream.

“How am I so lucky?” Lily whispered, gazing up at Frederick with something akin to wonder.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said huskily, cradling her face in his hands. “When I think back over everything I did to get here—every sin I committed, every mistake I made—I understand now that all of it was necessary. Because all of it led me to you.”

Tears welled in Lily’s eyes, and she laughed sheepishly. “Now look what you’ve made me do,” she whispered. “I’m crying. I hate crying.”

“Forgive me,” Frederick said, wrapping her in his arms, his smile so tender it made her want to cry more.

He kissed her brow, her nose, her mouth, lingering there, and the sweet, gentle press of his lips on hers deepened, intensified, until Lily was weak in the knees, and tingling all over.

“Tell me,” he said several moments later, “exactly how long will this long engagement be? One week? Two?” His teeth grazed her earlobe, making her shiver.

“I thought, perhaps, three months?”

“Three months.” She could hear his throat working as he swallowed. “Is that number negotiable?”

Lily leaned back and arched a brow. “You said you would wait. However long I need you to.”

“You’re right. I did.” He swallowed again. “It is only that I want you so badly. I want to be with you. But, of course, I will wait for as long—”

Lily kissed him, cutting off his words. “I only said I want to wait three months before we marry. I said nothing about waiting for anything else.”

Frederick’s eyes darkened and his mouth captured hers, as surely as he’d captured her heart. They kissed in Mr. Richardson’s field to the sweet scent of wild grass beneath the soft haze of a late-October sky.

“Oh, dear,” Lily said sometime later, scanning the empty field around them. “Blythe is gone. We’ll have to find her again.”

Chuckling, Frederick touched his forehead to hers. “Remind me to give that gorgeous cow an extra carrot when we get her back to the inn.”

“Whatever for?” she asked with a smile.

“For bringing us together, of course.”

Lily eased back to gaze into his eyes, her heart brimming with so much love it ached. “For that, I think she deserves two extra carrots, don’t you?”

“Two extra carrots,” he agreed with a smile. “Every single day for the rest of her hopefully very long life.”

And after stealing one more kiss from her husband-to-be, Lily slipped her hand in his and, not for the last time, the two set off in search of their wayward bovine matchmaker.