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Lily twisted around to stare at the door, as if she could see through it to whoever stood on the other side. "Let them knock, Rob. We’ve no need to answer."

"It’s likely only the footman with the supper I’d ordered earlier." Gently he pulled her back down, so her face was just over his. "But we’ll make him wait for his insolence, won’t we?"

The knock came again, more insistent, almost a pounding. Lily laughed softly, a conspirator’s chuckle. "Then we must pretend we’re not at home and let the rascal cool his heels."

Rob laughed, too, but even as he kissed her, his thoughts were returning to his earlier question. He had never asked a woman to join her lot to his. Before this night he’d always been content to leave with a fond farewell and an eye for the next lady that would appear in his life.

But Lily — Lily was different. That instant connection he’d felt with her when she’d hopped into his carriage had only intensified in a way that would have terrified him if it hadn’t felt so damned right. They’d spent less than a night together, yet already he knew he loved her. He loved her. He’d meant it when he’d said fate had brought them together, because he couldn’t imagine any other explanation.

So why the devil hadn’t Lily accepted? What if fate were laughing at him and his rakish past by making the one woman he wanted not want him in return?

"Ah, my sweet Lily." He drew her closer, his arm curled around her waist.

"I’d hide away with you forever, love, if only you’d —"

"I know you’re in there, Dell! If you don’t open this door directly and release the lady, I’ll open it for you!"

Lily’s eyes widened with indignation. "Oh, my, that is insolent!"

"No, Lily, that is my dear brother-in-law, His Grace, the Duke of Strachen."

ob swore to himself, rolling her swiftly to one side. None of this made any sense. Brant was a gentleman of the world and always understanding where Rob’s affairs were concerned. At least he had been until now. "Though why in blazes Brant is being so ill-mannered as to interfere in our —"

"By all that is holy, niece, if you are in there playing the harlot with this — this scoundrel, then I demand that you come out at once. At once!"

Lily yelped with horrified dismay, yanking the sheets up to her chin. "Uncle Herbert! Oh, Rob, however could he have found us here?"

"I do not know." Had anything else in Rob’s life gone this hideously fast from so good to bad and then to far, far worse? He scrambled from the bed and grabbed his trousers from the floor, hopping on one foot as he frantically pulled them on. "Unless your uncle has loosed a pack of bloodhounds through Mayfair —"

But a key was turning in the lock and the door already swinging open, and in the doorway stood a stone-faced Brant in evening dress and a furious, red-faced gentleman that must be Uncle Herbert.

"For God’s sake, Rob, stop dancing around like a jackanapes and make yourself decent," ordered the duke as he turned to the other man. "Forgive me for asking, Mr. Avonwood, but is this lady your missing niece?"

"I am sorry to say that it is, Your Grace." Uncle Herbert shook his head, his mouth as pinched as if he’d bitten a lemon. "What your poor parents would say to this, Lily!"

"What they would say, Uncle Herbert, is that you are meddling in my most private affairs!" Fuming, Lily hauled the sheet free as she slid from the bed and somehow managed to fling and twist the sheet around herself and into a makeshift gown. "Hunting me down to humiliate me like this!"

"If you did not wish to be found, Lily, then you shouldn’t have climbed into a carriage with ducal arms upon the door." Uncle Herbert’s scowl deepened. "You have not only ruined yourself, but you have greatly inconvenienced His Grace, Mr. Simon and me, and you have caused us enormous worry because you have chosen to allow this rogue to — to debauch you!"

"He is not a rogue," snapped Lily. "And I can assure you that the debauching was entirely mutual."

But Rob had heard enough. He slipped his arm around Lily’s sheet-clad waist, ready to protect her even if she didn’t seem to be in particular need of protecting. No wonder they were such a perfect match for one another! "Here now, Lily, I won’t let you say such things about yourself. Lay the blame on me where it belongs."

"For once my brother-in-law is speaking the truth, Miss Avonwood." The duke’s expression was grave. "I fear Rob has, ah, abused your innocence, and —"

"He did nothing of the sort, Your Grace." She tossed her tangled hair impatiently over her bare shoulder and placed her hand over Rob’s. "I love Rob, Your Grace, and I know he loves me."

"Love!" Her uncle gasped, sputtering with outrage. "This is lust, niece, nothing more! What could you learn of love in a single night?"

Rob raised Lily’s hand to kiss her fingers. "This lady has taught me more of love in a single night than I have learned in the rest of my life combined. Isn’t that so, sweetheart?"

"Yes." Lily’s gaze might be soft with love, but there was also an edge of rebellion that only made her more endearing. "And I have learned the same."

The duke cleared his throat. "Then you both shall have the chance to prove it. There is only one way for you to salvage this lady’s reputation, Rob. You must wed her as soon as it can be arranged."

"But that cannot be!" cried Lily’s uncle. "Mr. Simon has already asked for her hand!"

The duke raised one cynical brow. "He may have asked for her hand, but clearly my brother-in-law has claimed the rest of her person. Rob, ask her to be your wife."

Rob gulped. His wife. He hadn’t thought of Lily like that. His love, his partner, his conspirator, his adventurous companion on his journey to America — all those, yes. But before now his life had always been too precarious to share with a wife, too unsettled for the burden that any single woman was sure to become.

But wasn’t Lily different? Lily Dell, his wife. It sounded as good to his heart as it did to his ear. His Lily, perhaps his last chance at happiness, his one chance at love.

Slowly he knelt before her, her fingers twisting into his as she realized what was happening.

"Lily-my-Lily," he began softly, keeping his voice low for her alone to hear. "We’ve gone about this backward, haven’t we?"

She shook her head, her voice quavering with emotion. "No, Rob, not at all. We’ve done it exactly right."

"Then marry me, lass. Honor me. Marry me, and let me love you forever."

Behind them, her uncle sputtered. "If you go against my wishes, niece, and accept this wastrel, then you shall forfeit your inheritance!"

How in blazes had Rob forgotten her fortune? He had always sworn that if he ever did marry, it would be for the bride’s rich dowry. Yet now love had so turned his head that all he cared for was Lily herself.

But would he in turn be enough for her? Would she be willing to turn her back on her inheritance for the uncertainty of the life he could offer?

"I’d wed you if you came to me only in your shift, lass, without a shilling to your name." He was so afraid she’d refuse that his chest felt tight and his heart was pounding. "Please, Lily. Say yes."

"Oh, Rob," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears she barely held back. "What else could I say to you? Yes, yes, yes!"

He laughed with joy and relief and he swept her into his arms and kissed her. And when her makeshift gown began to slip away and he barely saved her decency before the duke and her uncle, he laughed again at this unexpected, unpredictable and utterly perfect twist his life was taking.

"You didn’t truly believe I’d refuse, did you?" she asked breathlessly as he kissed her again. "That I would prefer odious Mr. Simon to you and America?"

"You always surprise me, lass." He kissed her until she, too, laughed with joy. "I expect you always will."

"Then you should know my uncle is wrong about my losing the inheritance.

That was only when I was younger, and now I am quite, quite of age. You must take my mills and the rest with me."

He was startled by how little it mattered. "I suppose I can learn to love a rich wife as well as a poor one."

"Of course you can." She pushed away from his chest, her expression suddenly solemn, or at least as solemn as she could manage while dressed only in a rumpled sheet. "But there is one more thing, Rob."

He frowned, leery. "Only one?"

"Yes." She nodded gravely, but couldn’t keep the twinkle from her eyes. "The minute we are married, I shall expect from you the most extravagant wedding...cake ever given to a bride."

"Ah, Lily-my-love," he said, laughing again as he drew her back into his arms. "I’ll never make an easier promise to keep."

The End



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