The Baron's Heiress Bride Read online

  The Carringtons, on the other hand, were as conventional as roast goose on Christmas Day. Judith forced a smile and pushed back a lock of bright yellow hair that had escaped her careful coiffure. “Who was that gentleman who stood as godfather?”

  Lily sat back. “One of Ford’s old friends. Lord Randal Nesbitt.”

  “Wouldn’t it be fun to be newly wedded together, have babies together?” Some of the color returned to Judith’s cheeks. “You should marry him.”

  “Wherever did you get that idea?” Lily crossed her arms over the long, stiff stomacher that covered the laces on the front of her gown. “I barely know Rand.”

  “Rand?” Judith repeated significantly, and Lily blushed to be caught using the over-familiar name. But somehow she’d always thought of him as Rand, though she’d never realized it before. How odd.

  “So what if you barely know him,” Judith argued. “I hardly know Lord Grenville, either. And believe me, he doesn’t look at me the way Rand was looking at you.”

  “Looking at me?” Lily echoed weakly. She’d hardly looked at him at all. She’d been focused on the cooing baby in her arms, her sister’s first daughter. Her first niece. Nicky was great fun, of course, but now she’d have a little girl to play house with, to fix her hair, to—

  “Upon my word, he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time.” Judith’s lips curved in an impish grin. “Watching him was more entertaining than the baptism.”

  Lily felt her face heat and wondered if Judith could be right—if instead of watching the ceremony, everyone had been watching Rand watch her.

  But surely that hadn’t been the case. Why would Rand be interested in her? The two of them had nothing in common. Her friend had seen something that wasn’t there. “You just have the wedding fever,” she said lightly, rubbing the back of her left hand. “Besides, if he’s interested in anyone, I’m sure it’s Rose. They share an interest in languages.”

  “Ah,” Judith said with a tilt of her pert nose. “You know more about the fellow than you’re willing to admit.”

  Ignoring that, Lily leaned to look out the window. But there was a long queue of carriages. They were going nowhere.

  “Who’s that?” her friend asked, following her line of sight. “The girl in pink, coming out of the barn with your brother?”

  “That’s Jewel, Ford’s niece. Rowan and she have been friends forever.”

  “What sort of friends? And what do you suppose they were doing alone together in a barn?”

  “Goodness, they’re but children of ten! Your mind is too much on romance these days. Knowing those two, they were probably planning a practical joke.”

  “In a barn?”

  Lily laughed at the expression on her friend’s face. “I doubt there’s an inch of Trentingham that hasn’t seen one or another of their schemes. And Lakefield, too.”

  Judith looked likely to say more, but the door popped open and her mother poked her head in. “Were you leaving without me, dear?”

  “Of course not, Mama.” Judith scooted over to make room. “We just came inside to talk.”

  A large, jolly woman, Lady Carrington wedged herself beside her daughter and tucked in her voluminous coral skirts. Before her footman could shut the door, Lily’s striped cat nimbly leapt inside.

  Lady Carrington sneezed. “Shoo!” she exclaimed, waving an elegant hand at the creature.

  “Beatrix,” Lily said softly, “you cannot ride in this carriage.”

  The cat gave her a hurt look before hopping out.

  “Much better,” Judith’s mother said as the door shut. She turned to Lily. “This afternoon, I’m hoping your father will advise me about flowers for Judith’s wedding.”

  The Earl of Trentingham was nothing if not an expert on flowers. “I’m certain Father will fancy being consulted,” Lily assured her.

  The carriage began moving at last. “I’ve my heart set on yellow flowers,” Lady Carrington told Lily, “because Judith looks best in yellow. But she wants to be married in blue. What color will you wear for your wedding?”

  “Blue is nice,” Lily said with a vague smile.

  She wasn’t ready to think about weddings, and most certainly not her own.

  Rose was a year older—her wedding had to come first.

  THREE

  WHEN LILY entered Violet’s house, Rose motioned her into the drawing room.

  She nodded toward where Rand stood in conversation. “He keeps looking over here, Lily. He’s spotted me.” Tall and willowy, Rose made a pretty picture against the drawing room’s soft turquoise walls—and well she knew it. She straightened one of her glistening chestnut curls and smoothed her deep-blue satin skirts. “He remembers me,” she added confidently.

  “Of course he remembers you—the two of you worked together translating that old alchemy book.” Lily glanced in Rand’s direction—or at least she intended no more than a glance. But it turned into more of a stare.

  Was this really who she’d been standing next to all morning?

  He was so…well, she’d thought him handsome when they’d first met. But he’d changed so much in the four years since Violet’s wedding. Gone was the adolescent mustache. He’d grown taller, his physique lean and athletic. And his hair, a thousand mixed shades of blond and brown, was now longer than hers. She usually preferred young men with cropped hair rather than long, but on Rand, long looked glorious.

  As though sensing Lily’s gaze, he turned his head while still talking. For a split second, his intense gray eyes blazed into hers.

  Or she thought they had. She blinked, clearing her vision. Now Judith had her imagining things.

  “I’ve been dreaming about this day for weeks,” Rose said, reclaiming her attention.

  “The baptism?”

  “No, you goose. Seeing Lord Randal again. Doesn’t he look fine? Thank heavens he got rid of that mustache—” She broke off, startled by the ear-piercing wail of an infant. Two infants.

  The cries grew deafening as their eldest sister approached, a twin nestled in each arm. “Violet,” Lily called to her, “do you need—”

  “Not at all,” Violet said calmly. “Just putting them down for a nap.” She whisked by with an air of efficiency and a nursemaid following in her wake.

  “Poor Violet.” Rose shook her head. “What a handful the twins are.”

  “They’ve had a lot of excitement today.”

  “I suppose.” Rose frowned. “I hope twins don’t run in Lord Randal’s family.”

  Lily looked up at her in surprise. “Do you mean to marry him, then?”

  “Of course. Ever since I danced with him at Violet’s wedding, I’ve known we were meant to be.”

  Lily remembered that Rand had danced with her, too, at their sister’s wedding. And then there was the fact that Rose lost her heart to every handsome male who crossed her path.

  But Lily had to admit that Rand could be meant for Rose. Good looks aside, they were well suited—the son of a marquess with the daughter of an earl. Rose’s talent for languages would make her an especially fitting wife for an Oxford linguist. And Rand’s unfailing patience and courtesy would come in useful with a wife as forthright as Rose.

  Lily touched her older sister’s hand. “I had no idea you’d been thinking about him all these years.”

  “Dreaming,” Rose repeated on a sigh.

  “Four years is a long time to dream.” Lily took another quick peek at him, then smiled. “I suppose he is the memorable sort.”

  Rose cast her a sharp look. “You’re not interested in him yourself, are you?”

  “Of course not!” First Judith, now Rose? Was something in the air today? “Whatever would make you think that?”

  “You said he’s the memorable sort.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s my sort. He’s too tall for me.” Lily drew herself up to her full height of five-foot-two. She’d barely come level with his chin. “Besides, why would he settle for me when he could have you? You two
have so much more in common.”

  Glancing down at her, Rose snorted. “There’s no such thing as a man who’s too tall. Will you promise?”

  “Promise what?”

  “Promise me you won’t pursue him. Promise me you won’t get in my way.”

  The entire idea was so absurd, Lily laughed. “I promise. In fact, I’ll do better than that. I’ll help you win him.”

  “Would you?” Rose breathed.

  “Of course. You’re my sister. I love you, and I want to see you happy.”

  Rose’s dark eyes actually misted. “You’re too good, Lily. You want everyone to be happy.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Of course not,” Rose said, and then in the next breath, “What will you do to help?”

  Rose would be Rose, Lily thought with an inward smile. “Whatever I can. But you must do your part, too. And that means, for once, not pretending that your head is filled with pudding. I wish I could speak half the languages you do. You’re educated and clever, and hiding that makes no sense.”

  “For Lord Randal, perhaps it doesn’t, because he enjoys languages, too. But for other gentlemen—”

  “For any gentleman. Why would you want one who doesn’t value your strengths?”

  “You don’t understand men, sister dear. Most of them thrive on feeling superior.” When Lily opened her mouth, Rose held up a hand. “But we were talking about Lord Randal, who isn’t most men—” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Gemini, here he comes!”

  As Rand approached, their mother seemed to appear out of nowhere—a habit Lily and her sisters found vexing. Mum gave him a brilliant smile. “Lord Randal. How very nice to see you again.” Her brown eyes shone with genuine warmth. “We missed you at my first grandson’s christening.”

  “She means Nicky, my godchild,” Rose chimed in. “I shared the honor with Ford’s two brothers.”

  “Lady Rose,” Rand said with a polite nod before turning to Mum, a half smile curving his lips. “I was sorry to miss the occasion, Lady Trentingham, but I’m afraid I was in Greece.”

  “Greece!” Rose laid a graceful hand on her embroidered stomacher. “How marvelous. I would so adore traveling the world. I could make use of all my languages.”

  Lily did a little mental jig, delighted to see her sister doing as she’d suggested—as the entire family had been suggesting for years. For once in her life, Rose wasn’t going to play the empty-headed flirt.

  This is it, Lily thought. Her sister was at last ready to fall in love. Rose had spent years yearning and sighing over one after another of her suitors—who were drawn by the twofold attractions of her beauty and her inheritance—but Lily could tell she’d never been serious about any of them. In her own way, Rose was just a tenderhearted romantic. She was waiting for someone to take her breath away.

  And if a fellow like Rand couldn’t accomplish that feat, Lily didn’t know who could.

  Mum cleared her throat. “You’ll remember Lily, my youngest daughter?” she asked Rand.

  “Lady Lily.” He gave a little bow, his eyes never leaving hers. Holding hers captive, like they had four years ago and again just a few minutes earlier.

  In all of her eighteen years, she’d never seen another gaze like Rand’s. It felt as though he could see right into her, yet not in an uncomfortable way…in a way that warmed and steadied her somehow.

  She’d forgotten about that. It seemed she’d forgotten a lot in those four years.

  Rose—bold Rose—reached to touch him on the arm. “Did you ever succeed in translating that alchemy book?”

  “Secrets of the Emerald Tablet?” He smiled at Lily before shifting his attention to her sister. “Not yet. A fine puzzle it is, very time-consuming, and Ford said that with the sale of his watch patent there was no longer any rush.”

  At that, Ford broke into their little group. “You certainly took my words to heart,” he said with mock outrage. “Four years is a bit longer than I had in mind.”

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Rand countered. “And ready to finish it.”

  Grinning, Ford slapped his friend on the back. “Only because you have nowhere to live.”

  “That’s not true. I have a beautiful new home.”

  “Half built.”

  Rand ruefully rubbed his forehead. “The hammering and sawing were driving me insane,” he admitted.

  “Rand has commissioned himself a house,” Ford explained to the ladies. “It was supposed to have been ready by now, so he’d already given up his previous residence.”

  “And as a consequence,” Rand added, “I’ve been sleeping in a construction site.”

  Rose nodded, her face a study in sympathy. “Where’s your new home, my lord?”

  “Please, call me Rand. And it’s in Oxford.”

  “Rand has been made a professor of linguistics,” Ford added.

  Rose gasped. “A full professor?”

  “At such a young age?” Mum’s eyebrows arched. “That’s very impressive.”

  Indeed it was, despite Rose’s theatrics. Having met her fair share of academics through Ford and Violet, Lily knew it usually took decades to earn a professorship.

  “It’s merely a matter of determination and persistence,” Rand told them, coloring faintly at the praise.

  “You’re being modest,” Rose purred, favoring him with a wide smile—one Lily had seen her practice countless times in her dressing table mirror.

  When Rand just shrugged, Lily took note of his lukewarm response. She’d have to get Rose to drop the old, coquettish act. It didn’t seem to be meshing well with her new, intelligent persona.

  “How long are you staying?” Mum asked him.

  “My house should be finished within a week or so—”

  “As long as it takes,” Ford cut in, “to figure out whether the book indeed holds the secret to making gold. Now, would you all like to see the new water closet?”

  “It seems to me,” Rand said in the sort of needling tone only a fast friend would put up with, “it’s taken you longer to build that water closet than I’ve spent on the translation.” He turned to Lily’s family. “I remember when his brother had water closets installed—”

  “Colin,” Ford clarified.

  “My friend here was so envious. Said he’d design one for Lakefield in no time. That was what, six years ago?”

  “Seven. Come see.” As he talked, Ford led them out of the drawing room, threading his way through the many guests. “I’ve finished but one so far, and you’re a fortunate man since it’s connected to the room where you’ll be staying.”

  Rand went with Ford up the square oak staircase, Rose hurrying to follow. Lily watched her sister’s swishing skirts as she and her mother trailed everyone else up the stairs, a familiar striped cat scampering behind. Beatrix must have found another carriage to travel in.

  Ford reached the landing and headed down the corridor. “Colin’s water closets were imported from France.”

  “They must have been expensive,” Rose said.

  “Absolutely. But I examined his thoroughly, and they seemed a simple enough design to build myself. In fact, I thought of improvements.”

  “Of course,” Mum put in.

  She thought her son-in-law was brilliant. In fact, she’d originally told Violet that Ford was too intellectual for her. Funny how wrong she’d been about that, but it had been just as well. Mum was somewhat renowned as a matchmaker, and although Violet and Ford had turned out to be perfect for each other, if she’d tried to match them up, their marriage would never have happened.

  The three Ashcroft sisters loved their mother dearly, but they were determined to avoid becoming yet another of Mum’s touted successes.

  Lily was watching, in fact, to see if Mum would try to match Rose with Rand. They were an obvious fit, after all, and at nineteen, Rose was becoming rather desperate. When their older sister Violet had turned but eighteen, Rose had pronounced her an official spin
ster.

  But if Mum tried to push Rand on her, Rose would surely go looking elsewhere. And Lily would be honor-bound to help. The girls had a long-standing pact to save one another from their mother’s matchmaking schemes.

  Inside the guest chamber, everyone including the cat squeezed into a tiny room that Ford had hired a man to construct in the corner—while Ford was an accomplished inventor, he was less inclined to anything requiring sweat or a ladder. They all gathered around the water closet and peered down at it in wonder.

  It was a padded box with a round opening in the top, rather like a close-stool. But instead of a removable chamber pot inside, there was a permanent alabaster bowl. “Back here,” Ford pointed out, “this copper pipe leads down from it.” The pipe disappeared into the wall. “The system works as a siphon.”

  They all nodded, since he’d explained siphons to them years ago, along with other scientific marvels.

  “I suppose it empties into the river?” Rose asked, demonstrating her intelligence.

  “It does. And there will be more pipes—eventually all over the house. I mean to put a water closet in every bedchamber. And my laboratory.”

  Leaning to pick up Beatrix, Lily hid a smile. Her brother-in-law all but lived in his laboratory.

  Another pipe ran up from the back of the seat, ending at a tank affixed to the wall. “The water,” Ford said, gesturing toward a third pipe that disappeared into the ceiling. “It’s fed from a cistern on the roof.”

  “How does it work?” Lily asked.

  “Well, first you use it—”

  “No need to demonstrate that,” Rose rushed to say.

  “Of course not.” Ford gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. While Lily suspected there’d been a time he’d looked askance at Rose’s outspoken nature, he’d long since reconciled himself to her.

  Rose was Rose, and all the family knew it.

  “After you use it, you pull on this lever.” Ford grabbed a handle attached to the tank. “It releases the water to wash the waste out to the river.”

  He pulled, and there was a rushing sound. Startled, Beatrix leapt from Lily’s arms and streaked from the room.