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offer? Her father had told her only that the marquis had mentioned his son’s interest in her!
She heard the scrape of the chair again. “Ah, Alice. It is Lilliana’s decision, not ours. If she chooses the earl, well then, I am quite confident she will bear it well. She is a spirited girl.”
Her mother snorted her opinion of that, and Lilliana could not bear to hear more. She didn’t
need
to hear more—everything was suddenly very clear now, and she turned and walked quietly away.
Outside, she ran to the edge of bowling lawn, her breath frosting in the night air. The icy cold felt good in her lungs and cleared her mind. In truths the conversation she had overheard had shaken her badly, but not for the obvious reasons. Oh, she thought Lord Kealing’s terms were as odious as Lord Albright’s were suspect. But instead of being shocked and outraged, she felt an enormous sense of relief. Her parents did not think her particularly marriageable. That was not new—although they had never said it to her, it was something she just knew. It logically followed, then, that they did not believe a man like Lord Albright could want her. Well, she could not believe it either. But all that aside, if what they said was true, then Lord Albright had given her the reason to do what she knew she would do this very afternoon, what she
longed
to do. He had given her a sane reason to accept his offer—to save her family’s home.
She paused at the edge of the lawn and looked up at the crystal night and stars twinkling like so many gems above her. A distant memory came to her, when she had been a small child, looking out the window of the drawing room at a night sky just like this one.
I want to be a star when I grow up, Mama
, she had said.
Don’t be ridiculous, Lilliana! Now look at what you’ve done! You’ve missed another stitch!
But Lilliana had not cared about stitches; she had wanted to be up there, flying highabove the earth seeing what God saw. She still did. But at Blackfield Grange she was earthbound, stifled by boredom and a desire to know more. There was nothing in this parish to hold her except the overbearing sense of duty and propriety that had been drilled into her from the crib.
She could not let this one chance at heaven slip by. If she did, she would die, extinguished by a life so mundane as to stifle the breath from her. It didn’t matter what others said of Lord Albright—he was the man of her dreams, had always been, and she was not going to let him slip through her fingers because of some outdated fear of scandal. And her father was right—if she did not accept one of the two offers, Lord only knew what would become of her. She was two and twenty and lived in the middle of nowhere where less than a handful of eligible men knew of her existence. And without a suitable dowry her choices were extremely limited. So were Caroline’s, and she was blocking her sister’s chance at happiness with that ridiculously foppish Horace Feather—assuming, of course, her father ever agreed to accept “Mr. Featherbrain.”
Nonetheless, she felt terribly guilty and foolish and appalled by her reckless determination. But heaven help her, all she could think of was how perfect her life would be married to the most exciting man in all of Great Britain. God was smiling on her for once, offering her the one person who could make her truly happy—Adrian Spence.
At long last, she might soar.
Five
A SMILING LORD DASHELL greeted Adrian the next day when a footman showed him to the solarium, and Adrian took that to be a good sign.
Crossing the threshold of the brightly lit room, he noticed the sister before anything else. He bowed over her hand as Dashell introduced her, taking in the heavily lashed green eyes and hair the rich color of honey. In spite of Miss Caroline Dashell’s uncontrollable giggling, Adrian could see why Pearle had described her as the family beauty.
Dashell pointed him toward his other
She heard the scrape of the chair again. “Ah, Alice. It is Lilliana’s decision, not ours. If she chooses the earl, well then, I am quite confident she will bear it well. She is a spirited girl.”
Her mother snorted her opinion of that, and Lilliana could not bear to hear more. She didn’t
need
to hear more—everything was suddenly very clear now, and she turned and walked quietly away.
Outside, she ran to the edge of bowling lawn, her breath frosting in the night air. The icy cold felt good in her lungs and cleared her mind. In truths the conversation she had overheard had shaken her badly, but not for the obvious reasons. Oh, she thought Lord Kealing’s terms were as odious as Lord Albright’s were suspect. But instead of being shocked and outraged, she felt an enormous sense of relief. Her parents did not think her particularly marriageable. That was not new—although they had never said it to her, it was something she just knew. It logically followed, then, that they did not believe a man like Lord Albright could want her. Well, she could not believe it either. But all that aside, if what they said was true, then Lord Albright had given her the reason to do what she knew she would do this very afternoon, what she
longed
to do. He had given her a sane reason to accept his offer—to save her family’s home.
She paused at the edge of the lawn and looked up at the crystal night and stars twinkling like so many gems above her. A distant memory came to her, when she had been a small child, looking out the window of the drawing room at a night sky just like this one.
I want to be a star when I grow up, Mama
, she had said.
Don’t be ridiculous, Lilliana! Now look at what you’ve done! You’ve missed another stitch!
But Lilliana had not cared about stitches; she had wanted to be up there, flying highabove the earth seeing what God saw. She still did. But at Blackfield Grange she was earthbound, stifled by boredom and a desire to know more. There was nothing in this parish to hold her except the overbearing sense of duty and propriety that had been drilled into her from the crib.
She could not let this one chance at heaven slip by. If she did, she would die, extinguished by a life so mundane as to stifle the breath from her. It didn’t matter what others said of Lord Albright—he was the man of her dreams, had always been, and she was not going to let him slip through her fingers because of some outdated fear of scandal. And her father was right—if she did not accept one of the two offers, Lord only knew what would become of her. She was two and twenty and lived in the middle of nowhere where less than a handful of eligible men knew of her existence. And without a suitable dowry her choices were extremely limited. So were Caroline’s, and she was blocking her sister’s chance at happiness with that ridiculously foppish Horace Feather—assuming, of course, her father ever agreed to accept “Mr. Featherbrain.”
Nonetheless, she felt terribly guilty and foolish and appalled by her reckless determination. But heaven help her, all she could think of was how perfect her life would be married to the most exciting man in all of Great Britain. God was smiling on her for once, offering her the one person who could make her truly happy—Adrian Spence.
At long last, she might soar.
Five
A SMILING LORD DASHELL greeted Adrian the next day when a footman showed him to the solarium, and Adrian took that to be a good sign.
Crossing the threshold of the brightly lit room, he noticed the sister before anything else. He bowed over her hand as Dashell introduced her, taking in the heavily lashed green eyes and hair the rich color of honey. In spite of Miss Caroline Dashell’s uncontrollable giggling, Adrian could see why Pearle had described her as the family beauty.
Dashell pointed him toward his other
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