Instantly, Lily’s feet faltered. He is waiting for me, and now he will ask me to marry him, and I will say— Her brain froze. I will say yes, she thought, continuing down the stairs. If I can.
As she drew closer, she saw that the earl was talking to Emma, who looked quite pretty in a pink gown set with tiny, white silk flowers. Huntley caught sight of Lily and whispered something to Emma, who glanced up and gave her a quick, warm smile before turning to join the other guests as they walked to the dining room.
So Huntley has told Emma of his plans. It wasn’t surprising, for the two were close. Lily realized that her hands had turned into fists, and she uncurled them. Smile. I must pretend this is all I want, all I’ve hoped for, that he is the man I—
I can’t.
The words sounded through her as clearly as the ring of a bell. She caught her breath. I can’t.
And there, standing on the third step of the grand staircase, Lily realized that she could never, would never, marry without love.
She deserved better, and so did Wulf, and Huntley—all of them.
“Miss Balfour?” Huntley’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Lily blinked, and with a short laugh, she descended the final few steps. “I’m glad to see you, for we must talk.”
He brightened. “Yes, we must.” He glanced around. “Come. We can use the blue sitting room. We’ll keep the door open for propriety’s sake.” He led the way, talking with far more animation than she’d ever seen. “Here we are! The candles are lit, so the duchess must plan to open it during the ball.”
Lily tried to compose her thoughts as he chatted on, mentioning the fabulous decorations he’d seen through the ballroom doors as the footmen carried in a bowl of punch, and how many candles were blazing in the hallway.
“Her grace certainly knows how to entertain.” He chuckled, but then caught her gaze. His smile died. “My dear Lily, what’s wrong?”
“I—I must speak to you about what you said yesterday morning.”
“Ah, about the proposal.” He reached over to grab her hands with his. “Lily, Lily, I’m so happy.”
“I— That’s lovely, but—”
His hands tightened over hers, a blissful expression in his eyes. “Love is amazing, isn’t it? I’ve never felt anything so—”
“Huntley, no. I’m sorry, this is quite overpowering and while I appreciate your openness, I must say something and— Oh dear, this is so difficult. Love never comes with just one look. At least, not that I’m aware of, although some people say that it can. I’ve never—”
“Only one look?” He laughed, the sound surprisingly joyous. “I’ve looked once, twice, a thousand times, but I never saw. Now I see, and now I know the truth. I can no longer deny it. Lily, I had to tell you first.”
“No, please don’t. I’m not—”
“I must tell someone, and you’re the one.” He held her hands between his. “Lily, I asked Emma to marry me and she said yes!”
Lily blinked, speechless.
He laughed and wagged a finger at her. “Aha! You’re surprised, aren’t you? Emma was quite wrong then, for she said she was certain you suspected. She said that you caught her gazing at me at breakfast one morning and that you had to know.”
She thought back to that day. Good God—Huntley was in that hallway, too, but I only saw Wulf. I only saw Wulf, while Emma only saw Huntley. “Goodness, it never dawned on me that— I mean, that’s wonderful for you both! I thought— How could I have—”
“I am deliriously happy! I’m too enthralled to keep it to myself, yet I must because her family must be told before we announce it. My dear Emma was adamant that we tell you immediately, though. I wish I could shout it from the rooftops.” Huntley went on and on, giving details about his proposal, how he’d been so nervous that his voice had been shaking, and more. Meanwhile, Lily watched him, bemused.
For three weeks now she’d thought of nothing but obtaining a proposal from him. But now that he’d proposed to someone else, all she felt was a deep, profound relief. She was happy for Huntley and Emma, though. They were so similar that they were a perfect match.
Huntley shook his head dazedly. “All this time, I thought I cared for Emma like a sister, or a friend. I thought she was kind to me only because of her friendship with Sarah. We were both so wrong. I—I think Sarah would approve.”
“If she loved you both as you say, she would want whatever makes you happiest.”
He brightened, his gaze warm. “Thank you. I do believe she would. Now, I must think of what would make Emma happy.”
He was so happy, so thrilled, and so obviously in love. She wanted that for herself, wanted it so badly that her throat tightened. Suddenly, Lily didn’t want to be here. She only wanted to get out of this room and find Wulf.
But . . . what about Papa?
Her knees weakened and she sank into a chair. Now I have no plan. Either Papa will go to gaol, or Dahlia will marry Lord Kirk and be miserable.
What can I do? Wulf and I could live in the cottage, but where would Dahlia and Papa stay? I must find a way to pay back that debt. But how?
Her gaze absently dropped to her gown, a silk confection adorned with rosettes and satin ribbons—a gown she’d made herself. I’ve always wanted to open a modiste’s shop, but it takes time to grow a clientele. Unless . . .
Her gaze went to Huntley’s impeccable neckcloth, then she thought of the duchess’s penchant for the latest fashions. If the duchess and such fashion plates as Huntley assisted me, I could find a clientele quickly and perhaps talk Lord Kirk into accepting payments. We’d have to give up Caith Manor but—
A million thoughts thrummed through her and she pressed a hand to her thundering heart. I can do this, she told herself with awe. I can really do this!
“Lily? Are you well?” Huntley’s brows were lowered. “You look pale.” He dropped to his knee and took her hand between his own. “Are you crying? Yes, there are tears in your eyes. Please don’t! Whatever is wrong, don’t despair. Look at me: a week ago I thought I would never love again, yet here I am, so deeply in love that I—”
Foreign curses flew through the air, and in the flash of an eye Wulf appeared, his face thunder-dark as he grasped Huntley’s arm, lifted the man to his feet, and punched him.
• • •
Wulf couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. Huntley was on his knees before Lily, in the middle of an obvious declaration. She is mine, damn it! Mine and no one else’s! Then suddenly Huntley was lying on the floor.
Through his red haze, Wulf was vaguely aware of Lily talking to him as she leaned over Huntley. Wulf could see her tantalizing lips moving, could see the anger in her gaze, but he could hear nothing but the roar of his own blood. She was his, by God. How could she not know that? How could she—
A pug ran into the room, butterfly wings strapped to its round body. It paused to sniff Huntley, its curlicue tail spinning in happiness. Another two joined the first, all strapped with fantastic butterfly wings as they began snuffing Huntley’s hair and eyes, one of them licking his ear. Behind them came a cackling sound as three women swept into the room, all talking at once.
A hand fell upon Wulf’s arm, and he turned to find his grandmother beside him as the Duchess of Roxburghe and Lady Charlotte swept past them to the unconscious man, the butler hard upon their heels.
“MacDougal,” her grace said over her shoulder, her sharp voice penetrating the fog that surrounded Wulf. “Have poor Huntley carried to the settee. He’s going to have the devil of a swollen jaw when he awakes.”
Lady Charlotte nodded. “It’s already swelling. We’ll need some ice, too.”
“Aye, yer ladyship.” The butler went to the door and called for some footmen.
Her grace helped Lily to her feet. Two footmen arrived and, stepping around the winged pugs, carried Huntley to the settee, while another was dispatched to fetch the doctor.
Tata Natasha looked with interest at Huntley’s sw
ollen jaw. “A well-placed facer,” she said in their native tongue. “Well done, although it would have been better to punch him in the stomach. It wouldn’t leave such a visible mark. Now Huntley will engender sympathy.”
“I didn’t take the time to plan things,” Wulf growled. “It just happened when I saw him with Lily. It was an outrage! The man had no right to put her in such a position.”
“What position?”
“He was importuning her. I saw him. He was on his knee before her, pleading, and she was weeping into a handkerchief, obviously distressed. I could not allow—”
“Wulf,” Lily snapped.
He turned and found her glaring at him. Every line in her body told him that she was furious. Swallowing, he said in a cautious voice, “Yes, my love?”
Her face bloomed with color. “I’m not your love. And you have no right to react toward anyone for me. I’m not—we’re not— Oh, blast you, this isn’t your affair!”
“But he was—”
“No, he wasn’t.” Lily sent Wulf an exasperated glance. “You’re mistaken.”
“I know what I saw,” Wulf insisted. “He was on his knee and holding your hand.”
“Wait.” The duchess’s blue eyes were bright as she fixed them on Lily. “Lord Huntley was on his knee?”
“Yes, but it was not what you think.”
The duchess laughed, the sound surprisingly young and husky. “How do you know what I think, young lady?”
Lily flushed. “I just know that while it may have looked as if he were making me an offer, he wasn’t.”
Tata Natasha leaned forward, her black eyes on Lily. “So why was he on his knee?”
“Because he’d just told me—” Lily paused and looked at the unconscious man. “He was confiding something that he did not wish to be widely known yet.”
“I heard him say that he is in love with you!” Wulf said.
“No, you didn’t.” The look Lily sent him was half annoyance and half an appeal.
Wulf paused. Now that he had time to consider everything, he had to admit that Lily didn’t look like a woman who’d just received a much-longed-for offer of marriage. She looked upset, yes. In fact, as he looked at her now, he noted the faint circles under her eyes and the downturn of her lips. She’d had neither when she’d been with him this morning.
Wulf raked a hand through his hair. “So Huntley didn’t mention love?”
“He did, but—” Lily grimaced. “I can’t say more.”
“Interesting.” The duchess sat in a chair across from their indisposed guest. “I suppose I shouldn’t admit this, for Lord Huntley hasn’t confided everything in me, but lately, I thought I sensed a certain level of interest from him in Miss Gordon, rather than Miss Balfour.” The duchess looked at Lily. “Not that I see how someone could do that, for you’re by far more vivacious and infinitely more beautiful.”
Lily’s cheeks heated. “Thank you, but we really should see to the earl. I don’t suppose anyone has any hartshorn? I could bathe Huntley’s forehead while we wait for the doctor.”
Lady Charlotte, who’d been hovering in the background, brightened. “I have some in my room. I’ll send someone to fetch it.” She bustled off, three of the butterfly pugs following her. The oldest pug rose to follow his mates, but after staring about the room uncertainly, he began snuffing the carpet in circles, making his way to Wulf’s feet. The pug looked up at him with milky eyes, wagged his tail, then plumped down in a contented ball.
Tata Natasha touched it with her foot. “Why no wings on this one?”
“He eats them,” the duchess said as Lady Charlotte returned. Her grace eyed the prince. “Randolph seems to favor you, Your Highness.”
“So does Meenie,” Lily said. “She barked when he climbed into my window, but as soon as he spoke to her, she became his devoted sl—” She caught Lady Charlotte’s surprised look and blushed.
“Just so,” the duchess said in a dry tone. She turned to Wulf. “So you thought Huntley was trying to force his affections on Miss Balfour.”
“Yes. And I do not believe this story about Miss Gordon. She is very nice, but who would look at her when Lily is about?”
The duchess chuckled at his obvious outrage. “People are very odd in their predilections. But Huntley has known Miss Gordon for years, and they’ve become very close since his wife died. He thought they were just friends, but she had other ideas. After I saw the two of them together, I began to suspect that she harbored feelings for him that went deeper than mere friendship.” The duchess leaned back in her chair. “But now we have a dilemma. My guests were gathering for the small dinner I was having before the ball, and you, Miss Balfour, left the door open.”
Lily flushed. “We didn’t wish to break with propriety.”
“Very proper of you, although you should have thought about how it would look when God knows how many people might walk past the door and see Huntley on his knees before you.”
Tata Natasha nodded. “Very bad. People will talk.”
“Exactly,” the duchess said. “If I do not leave this room with at least one engaged couple, then Huntley’s plans to marry Miss Emma might well be for naught.”
Lily blinked. “How so?”
“Huntley was not going to announce his engagement yet, was he? You said he wished it to be kept secret for now.”
“He wants to speak to her family before making an announcement.”
“Quite proper of him, for Miss Gordon’s uncle is a high stickler indeed, more priggish even than the earl, if you can believe it. If Miss Gordon’s uncle hears rumors that Huntley was attempting to attach himself to you a mere week before he comes to them to request her hand for marriage, then it is quite possible that he would withhold his approval.” The duchess regarded the unconscious man. “Sadly, I don’t believe either Huntley or Miss Gordon would marry if they couldn’t gain her family’s complete support.”
Lily pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh no.”
“So the next time you leave the door open for propriety’s sake,” the duchess said drily, “do not stage a play. For now it seems that we are in a fix.” She arched her brow at Wulf. “Well? Do you have something more constructive to add to this mess than a fist? Or are you all brawn and no brains?”
Something about the way the duchess was looking at Wulf made him pause. What is it that you wish me to say? He considered her words and then said thoughtfully, “As you said, we must have an engagement.”
The duchess beamed. “Exactly.”
“Then if Moya will accept me, she and I could announce our engagement tonight and people might think they were mistaken and saw me proposing to Moya instead of Huntley.”
The duchess’s eyes gleamed appreciatively. “An excellent idea.”
“There is one problem, though. I have asked Moya to marry me. I have told her I love her, too.”
“Many times,” Tata offered.
“Many, many times. But still she refuses me.”
“Does she, indeed? So you are not the problem, then.” The duchess’s gaze now fixed on Lily. “So, Lily, why do you not wish to marry this man? Is it his lack of income? The fact that he has no polish? The way he dresses like a groom?”
Lily met Wulf’s gaze, and to her surprise, she saw the duchess’s questions reflected there.
I did that to him, she realized. I caused him to doubt me. To doubt us. I never meant for that to happen.
She stood, forgetting everything but Wulf. “It’s not any of those things. Huntley was only comforting me because I’d just realized that I was making a mistake in marrying for anything other than love.” She took one of Wulf’s hands in hers. “I’ve been fighting loving you since the day we met—but I can’t fight what is meant to be.”
His hand tightened over hers, his eyes gleaming warmly. “We are meant to be, Moya. Forever.”
She smiled. “You know my family’s circumstances and why I was pursuing Huntley, and, yes, it was for all of the wrong reasons
. But it wouldn’t have worked for either of us. Even before he told me about his intentions toward Emma, I’d already realized that if I couldn’t be with you, then life wasn’t worth living. I love you and—”
He caught her to him and held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. She held him just as hard, and it was as if she could feel the love pouring from him through her.
“Oh, Moya, I have longed to hear you say that,” he whispered. “Dreamed of it.”
“Pah!” Wulf’s grandmother said. “It is as if we aren’t even here. So rude.”
“I know,” the duchess agreed. “And while it’s certainly touching, it doesn’t help us with our problem.”
“I don’t understand,” Lady Charlotte said. “Miss Balfour, excuse me for intruding on your embrace with the prince, but does this mean that you will marry him? Or will not? I’m so confused.”
Her face red, Lily pulled away from Wulf, although he didn’t allow her to go far. “I’ve discovered a better answer to my problems. It’s not perfect, but it could solve my family’s difficulties.” She looked up at him. “Wulf, I wish to open a modiste’s shop. I sew all of my own gowns, and women are forever asking me where I got them. If I opened a shop on Bond Street, and you and Dahlia and Papa helped, we could make a success of it. It will be difficult at first, but if I am good enough, I can make it work.”
“Is this what you want, Moya? To own a dress shop?”
She nodded. “I love to sew. I always have.”
“Then you shall do so. You want to make dresses, you will make dresses. You want to make hats, you can make hats. You want to raise goats, then we will have more goats than anyone else in Oxenburg.”
Her smile slipped. “But I would have to have a shop in Bond Street. I couldn’t sell gowns in Oxenburg—”
“Pah!” Wulf’s grandmother said. “Why not? All of Europe comes to Oxenburg for our lace and embroidered silks. Why would they not then also come to Oxenburg to buy gowns?”
Lily opened and then closed her mouth. “I don’t know. I just never thought— Lace and embroidered silks? Wulf, is this true?”