PROLOGUE
Lillian watched in dismay as her elder sister’s nose was smacked with the bridal bouquet that had just been tossed.
One would think that flowers wouldn’t be able to do that much damage. The white lilies were soon thrown aside, and blood began to stream from Juliana’s nose.
The handsome new Duke that just happened to be standing behind her sister, caught her as she stumbled backward clutching her face.
“My nose,” she cried out tearfully. A crowd was gathering. And soon, their older brother, Phillip, The Marquis of Randall, and his wife Eden were trying to escort the noticeably upset Juliana back into the church. But she was still in the Duke’s arms.
Their mother, the Dowager Marchioness, fainted at the sight of the blood. Lillian had expected something of the like to happen. Their mother had always been terribly squeamish—and a fantastic swooner.
The bridal carriage was well on its way, not realizing the commotion it had left behind in its wake.
The onlookers were busy discussing the calamity wondering if the poor girl would suffer any disfigurement from the accident.
The Duke had rushed along inside with Juliana. And their older brother Randall had picked up the Dowager Marchioness and removed her as well.
The remainder of the wedding party started to disperse. It was only Lillian left at this point. And it was she that had noticed the beautiful bouquet still lying in the dirt.
It seemed not quite right to ignore it. After all, those lilies had caused quite a commotion. Lillian walked over to where they lie there, quietly forgotten.
A few stems had been broken, and the petals were wilting from lack of fresh water. But it was still a thing of loveliness, despite its apparent flaws.
Lillian leaned over to pick it up. She carefully dusted off the mud and dirt. “There now,” she smiled, “you aren’t so bad after all. Let’s find you some water, shall we?”
She tucked the bouquet under her arm and turned to join the others in the cathedral. But she stopped short when she saw a rugged American not fifty feet from her, watching her every move.
She knew that it was one of the new duke’s brothers, but there were several of them. And the only time she had been introduced was at a ball held at their home.
Lillian wasn’t terribly good with names.
And the gleam in his dark eyes was making her awfully nervous.
“Excuse me,” she muttered and tried to flee, throwing all good breeding out the window.
“Darlin’, wasn’t that your sister just now?” his low drawl captivating her attention despite her best intentions.
“Yes, Julianna, I had best go see how she is doing,” again Lillian tried to escape.
“And yet you stopped to save the flowers,” it was said as a statement, but Lillian couldn’t help but feel it was a question.
“I care about my sister,” she blurted out, lifting her chin in defense.
The American’s lips twisted into a smirk, “I would never assume otherwise, Darlin’.”
“Oh,” Lillian could feel her cheeks heat. She wished more than anything that she had a smart reply ready, but Lillian was never good at witty banter.
“I just find it interesting that you were the only one to notice that the flowers had been left behind.”
Lillian shrugged, “I suppose that most would see them as rubbish, broken as they are. But I can’t help but see the beauty they still represent.” She raised her brow as if daring him to refute her, “They are lovely, you know.”
His hot gaze never left her face, “Extremely so. You had better run along as you said, Darlin’.”
Lillian flushed, and in an uncharacteristic moment, expressed her ire, “I do have a name!”
A slow smile graced his handsome face. His white teeth gleaming in the sunshine, “I would be happy to use it. Good day to you, Lovely Lillian.”
Lillian stood there dumbfounded as the American tipped his hat and then sauntered away.
Had that honestly just happened? She knew that there were times that her imagination ran away with her. But after giving herself a tight pinch, she realized that she was most certainly awake.
What was with that bloody American? How dare he use her given name? Had he known who she was the entire time?
And did he just call her lovely?
A tingling sensation fluttered in her stomach. Knowing that no good would come from fretting about it, she clutched the lilies to her breast and raced back inside.