A brisk knock on her chamber door startled Lily. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as she lay down after Daniel had returned her to her chamber early that morning. Rose had been sleeping soundly and hadn’t stirred when Lily came in. Rose got up and went to the door. A housemaid stood there, feather duster in hand.

“Yes, what is it?” Rose asked.

“I beg your pardon, milady. Your parents want to see you and Lady Lily in the private sitting room of their chamber right away.”

Rose yawned. “Why? What time is it anyway?”

“It’s half past nine, milady, and I don’t know what they want. They bid me to fetch you and your sister. A servant is fetching your brother at the bachelor house.”

“What on earth?” Lily stumbled out of bed and joined Rose at the door.

“Mummy and Papa want to see us in their sitting room,” Rose said. “I don’t know why.”

“Yes, I heard,” Lily said. “But I’m too tired. I’m going back to bed.”

“But milady,” the maid pleaded. “I was bid to tell you to come quickly!”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Rose asked.

“No, milady. Your parents are well. But they said the matter was of utmost importance.”

“We’d better go, Lily,” Rose said. “They wouldn’t send for us this early if it wasn’t important.”

“You go, and then you can come back and tell me what the devil is so urgent to wake me up at this hour.”

“Lily…”

“Oh for God’s sake, Rose, all right.” She turned to the housemaid. “I require a bath. Could you send someone to attend me?”

“There’s isn’t time for that,” the housemaid said. “But I’ll bring you a basin of steaming water right away.” She hurried off.

“No time for a bath?” Lily rolled her eyes and began to brush her long thick hair. A maid returned with hot water for their two basins, and Lily and Rose washed quickly and helped each other dress in their best morning outfits. They braided each other’s hair and pinned it, and when they were both satisfied with the results, they headed down the hall to their parents’ chamber in the corner.

The Earl of Ashford was seated behind a mahogany desk, the spectacles that he used for reading perched on his nose. Before him were stacks of documents. The countess sat next to the desk, soft and pretty in her yellow morning garments. Thomas, dapper in a grey morning coat, stood next to her, nibbling on a croissant and drinking tea.

The earl looked up. “Lily, Rose, do have a seat. I trust you haven’t broken your fast yet?”

“No, Papa,” they answered in unison.

“See to my daughters,” he said to the maid.

The maid prepared plates for them from a tray on a buffet table in the corner while Lily and Rose sat down with Thomas on the sofa. Lily looked at bread and fruit on the plate handed to her. Her stomach churned. She didn’t feel the least bit hungry.

“Papa,” she began, “what is going—”

“In a moment, Lily,” Ashford said, glancing over some papers in his hands.

The maid brought Lily and Rose steaming cups of tea. Lily gnawed on a croissant but it tasted like saw dust. What on earth was wrong? They sat in silence, waiting for the earl to speak.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I had a visitor this morning,” he said. “A very important one.”

“Who was it, Papa?” Rose asked.

“Well”—he cleared his throat again—“it seems that I have received a request for one of my daughters’ hands in marriage.”

My, Lord Evan certainly works fast. Lily turned to her sister. “Congratulations, Rose!”

“My goodness. I—” Rose began.

“The offer isn’t for Rose, Lily,” the earl interrupted. “It’s for you.”

Lily opened her eyes wide and she jumped off the couch. “For me? Who in the world would offer for me?”

Ashford cleared his throat one more time and adjusted his spectacles. “The Duke of Lybrook.”

Daniel? Daniel? “The duke?” Lily gasped, grabbing for the arm of the sofa. What was going on?

“He came to me this morning with the proposal,” the earl said. “It seems you’ve made quite an impression on him.”

“I’d say so,” Thomas said.

“Keep quiet, Thomas,” Lily said. “Papa, I’m sorry. I don’t wish to marry.”

“That’s quite irrelevant, Lily,” the earl said. “I’ve already accepted his offer.”

“Fine.” Lily plunked her bottom back on the sofa. “Then you marry him.”

“Lily!” the countess admonished.

“Be still, Flora,” the earl said. Then, “Lily, you’ve made no secret of your feelings about the coming season. This arrangement will spare you being displayed like a pork chop, as you like to put it. Besides, you’re a smart girl. I don’t have to explain to you the advantages of an alliance between the Lybrook and Ashford houses.”

“Alliance?” Lily’s face heated. “If this is about money, why don’t you put me on the auction block and sell me to the highest bidder?”

“Lily, my goodness,” the countess said. “We’ve no need of Lybrook’s fortune, and he has no need of ours.”

“No, he doesn’t,” the earl continued. “He has already refused to take your dowry.”

“Then what is the point of all of this nonsense? Why should I be forced to marry?”

“There are more important considerations than money, Lily. An alliance between our two families will have…political benefits.”

“So you’ll marry me off for the sake of politics? How charming.”

“Lily”—the countess’s voice was warm and soothing—“your father and I have always wanted what is best for you. The duke’s offer is a generous one. He is a powerful man, and a kind one. You could do a lot worse.”

“That is for me to decide, is it not?”

“No, it’s not,” the earl said. “Lybrook and I have already reached a betrothal agreement.”

“What?” Lily screamed.

“Lower your voice please,” her father warned. “I’ll not have our business aired like dirty laundry around this estate.”

“Betrothal agreement?” Lily seethed, her pulse racing. “This is simply barbaric. Rose, Thomas, tell them.”

Neither Rose nor Thomas spoke.

“Fat lot of help you two are,” Lily said, scoffing. “Papa, you’ll just have to break the agreement. I’m not getting married to anyone.”

“You’ll do as I tell you,” the earl said. “Lybrook is a good man.”

“He’s a rake.” Lily crossed her arms over her chest.

“A good man,” the earl repeated. “He seems to have a genuine affection for you.”

“Lily,” her mother said, “you’ll be a duchess, and the mother of the next duke.”

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll have me barefoot on my back in no time, pushing out his brats.”

“Lily, please!”

“Let her get it off of her chest, Flora,” the earl said. “She’ll come to terms with the arrangement soon enough.”

“I’ll never come to terms with this. You and the duke seem to think you have the right to plan my whole life for me. Well, you don’t! There are things I want to do. What about my art? My writing? I want to travel! Damn you! Damn all of you!” She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles white with tension.

“This is ridiculous,” the earl said. “I’ve allowed your silly infatuation with art and writing up to now because it seemed to amuse you, but you really didn’t believe that I would tolerate a spinster artist for a daughter, did you? You have a duty to the Ashford name to marry and carry on our line.

“That is Thomas’s duty, not mine!”

“Keep me out of this,” her brother said.

“I…oh, bloody hell!” She unclenched her fists, and a trickle of blood ran down her left palm where a fingernail had dug into her fair skin.

“You have much to offer the duke,” Lord Ashford said. “You are intelligent. Talented. Beautiful. And you have the Ashford name. But if you insist on talking like a sailor on shore leave—”

“Lily,” Lady Ashford interrupted, “I’ve seen you with the duke at the evening meal. You and he share an ease together that… I don’t know, you both seem to smile a lot. I guess it was my impression that you had affection for him as well.”

“Enjoying his company at dinner is not sufficient reason to shackle myself to him for eternity,” Lily said dully.

“If you’ll just give this arrangement a chance, dear, I think it could benefit everyone.”

“Everyone but me!” Lily cried. “I won’t stand for it!”

“You will,” the earl said. “You have no choice.”

“Papa, please!” Then, “It just so happens that… Oh!” Lily’s blood boiled. She wanted to throw in his face that she couldn’t ever marry, that she was ruined, but that fact was irrelevant. It was the culprit who wanted to marry her.

“You need a husband,” Lord Ashford continued. “Since you’ve made it clear that you have no intention of finding one on your own, this is a godsend, frankly. He’s a well esteemed peer from a wealthy and respected house. He needs a wife of good lineage, and he wants you.”

“I suppose I’ll make an adequate broodmare,” Lily said dryly. “My God, he has a lot of nerve.”

“Do you have any idea how many women would love to be in your shoes?” the countess said.

Lily took off her morning shoes and threw them across the room, one narrowly missing her father’s ear. “They can all have my shoes!” she bellowed. “I won’t be one of his strumpets, or his mistress!”

“I’ve had just about enough of this.” Ashford strode toward her.

The countess waved him off. “Lily”—she sat down and took her daughter’s hand in her own—“calm down. He’s not asking you to be his mistress. Goodness, he’s asking you to be his wife.”

“While he keeps a dozen mistresses, no doubt.” Lily’s eyes filled with tears. “And he’s not asking me. He and Papa are telling me.”

“This is a very common way for marriages to be arranged.” The countess rubbed the palm of Lily’s hand with her thumb. “You know that.”

“I don’t give two figs about what is common, Mummy,” Lily said, weeping. “I don’t want to marry. Not now. Not ever.”

“The agreement has been made,” the earl said. He strode from the room briskly.

The countess continued to hold Lily’s hand. “You’ll come to accept this in time. The two of you will have a good and solid life together. He can give you everything you want.”

“I already have everything I want.”

“Rose, Thomas,” Lady Ashford said, “take Lily back to her chamber. She needs to rest.”

“Thank you both for your help,” Lily said as they walked from their parents suite. “Why, I don’t know how I could have made it through this without your support.”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Rose said. “I didn’t know what to say. But you do like the duke, don’t you?”

“Lybrook’s a good man, Lily,” Thomas said. “He was always a good man, even when he was a skirt chaser, but since his father and brother were killed, he’s…different.”

“How would you know? He’s been on the continent for a year.”

“There’s been talk at the bachelor house. Don’t get me wrong. Papa should have discussed this with you first. I wouldn’t be any happier if it were me.”

“But it will never be you, will it Thomas?” Lily said. “As a man, you can choose whom you will marry.”

“Damn it, Lily, I didn’t make the rules.”

“You can both go to hell,” Lily said. “I have business to attend to.”

“Where are you going?” Rose asked.

“To see His Grace,” Lily said, “and don’t even think about trying to stop me.”

“Dear God,” Rose said.

“Dear God is right,” Thomas agreed. “Poor Lybrook won’t know what hit him.”

---

Daniel was relaxing in his leather chair wearing a dressing robe, his face half covered in shaving soap, when Lily barged into his suite without knocking. Putney stood before him holding a razor in his hand.

“My lady,” he said. “This is highly—”

“Don’t worry about it, Putney,” Lily said sardonically. “Haven’t you heard the good news? I am the duke’s betrothed.”

“Your Grace?”

“It’s all right, Putney,” Daniel said. “You can go.”

“Here I’ll take that.” Lily grabbed the razor out of Putney’s hand. “Shaving is a wifely duty, is it not?” Then, when Putney had left, “Although I doubt you want me anywhere near your neck with a sharp object, Your Grace.”

Daniel didn’t think Lily would actually hurt him, but he didn’t want her waving a razor around. She had worked up quite a head of steam and she might accidentally harm herself. He wiped the soap from his face with a towel and stood. “Give that to me, Lily.”

“No.”

“Come on.” He took her hand and pried her fingers from the handle of the razor. “Let’s talk about this like adults.”

“Why should I talk about anything like an adult? I’m not being treated like one. Others are making my decisions for me. Decisions that should be mine alone to make.”

“Lily—”

“Damn it, Daniel, we had an agreement.”

“An agreement?”

“You know how I feel about marriage.”

“I was hoping you might change your mind.”

“Change my mind? Are you insane? You thought you could change my mind by forcing me into marriage? You don’t know me at all.”

Daniel sighed. He did know her. He would have talked to her, asked her to stay with him, had he not been afraid she might decline. Arranging a betrothal agreement with her father was the only way he could be certain of keeping her. “Maybe I should have talked to you first.”

“Maybe? Maybe?” She raised her hands in the air. “I won’t do it, Daniel. I won’t be forced into some sham of a marriage for the sole purpose of carrying on your noble line!”

“Well, I do need an heir,” Daniel said. “And your bloodline is excellent.”

“Yes, I suppose I’m an acceptable purebred bitch, aren’t I?” She stood, indignant, her fists clenched, her face flushed.

God, she was the most beautiful woman on earth.

“You sound like you’re breeding horses or dogs. Why didn’t you set your sights on Rose, then? She could have given you a gaggle of blond-haired babes. With me, half of them are likely to be dark.”

Beautiful, yes. And headstrong. He had to have her. “I don’t care what color of hair my heir has. Good God.”

“Tell me, why are you so set on marrying me? Why would you want a wife like me? I’ll make your life hell, and you know it.”

Daniel reached for her hand.

She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

“All right.” He gave her a moment. He didn’t know how to tell her why he wanted to marry her. He wasn’t exactly sure himself. All he knew was that he could not, would not, let her go. He was afraid of what he might become without her. She had changed him. He no longer wanted the same things out of life. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“Well?”

“Lily, I’m the duke now. I have responsibilities.”

“And these responsibilities include forcing an unwilling woman into marriage?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you’ll let me go?”

“No. Er, what I mean is, my responsibilities are…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I told you, I need an heir.”

“But why me, Daniel? Why does it have to be me?”

“I…hold you in high esteem.”

“How touching.”

Daniel winced. Was it possible that she didn’t care for him at all? He could hardly believe it. Their lovemaking had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. They had shared so much else, too. She had to feel something for him, and he intended to find out exactly what. He cleared his throat. “Tell me, Lily. Why did you let me make love to you?”

“We’re not talking about that,” she said. “It has nothing to do with this subject.”

“Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t, but I want to know. Why did you stay with me? You were innocent. You knew who and what I was. You knew I would ruin you.”

“Please don’t say you’re marrying me because of some false sense of honor.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying, damn it. I want to know why you let me make love to you.”

“Education and experience,” she said. “Nothing more.”

“Education and experience?” A brick landed in his gut. Was that really all he was to her? “Well, I hope it was all you thought it should be.”

“It was acceptable,” she said, “but it was no reason to marry.”

“All right, Lily. Then there’s another reason.” He set about to hurt her as she had hurt him. “You could be breeding.”

Her beautiful eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But you promised me you would take care of that.” Her dark eyes shone with shock…and terror.

“I didn’t,” he said. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“Yes, it didn’t seem important at the time. You didn’t seem to care. At least, you never mentioned it.”

“Oh!” She clenched her fists, briskly walking to the table where they had shared their small meal the previous evening. She picked up the nearly empty wine bottle and hurled it, barely missing one of her own watercolors. Burgundy liquid dripped down the elegantly papered walls as shards of green glass scattered across Daniel’s oriental rug.

“God forgive me for being so ignorant! I don’t know how to prevent pregnancy. You told me you did. I trusted you!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I should have broken that over your head!”

Daniel wanted to grab her and pull her to him. To kiss her and give her comfort. Seeing her tears nearly destroyed him.

“I can’t do anything that I wanted to do now,” she sobbed. “I can’t go to the Louvre and paint the Mona Lisa like your mother did. I can’t climb a mountain, I can’t travel to the Orient, and I… Oh, I can’t bear this!” She pulled at her braids, tugging strings of hair loose.

“You can still do all of that.” He strode toward her hesitantly. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I always meant that.”

“No,” she cried quietly. “No, I can’t. Not if I’m with child.”

“You won’t be with child forever.”

“It doesn’t matter. I still don’t want to marry. I-I hereby release you from all responsibility for me and my child.”

“Our child, Lily.”

For a moment she seemed to soften, and he went toward her quickly. He put his arms around her and held her head to his shoulder. Her body relaxed, if only a bit, in his arms, one hand touching his hair, the other on his forearm. He held her gently, stroking her back, kissing her hair, saying nothing. After a few moments, she broke away.

“I’m not marrying you. You can’t force me.”

“Your father and I have reached an agreement.”

“Yes, of course, the business agreement to make me your live-in whore. I don’t think so. I won’t be part of your band of strumpets, Daniel. I won’t! You’re nothing but a scoundrel.”

Daniel had been called that name more times than he could remember, but never had it felt like an arrow in his heart. He went to her, held out his arms to her. Her skin was burning with fiery redness, her lips the color of the wine they had shared. God, how he wanted her. She was like a malady from which he couldn’t recover. A drug that his body craved. He would take her, and he would love her until she screamed. He would make her want him.

But she cowered before him, refusing to come back into his embrace. “No. Once you force me into this marriage, I won’t be able to stop you. But until then, you will maintain your distance.”

Daniel’s cock hardened under his dressing robe, aching for the sweet release that only she could give him. He rammed his fist onto the wall, tearing the wallpaper and denting the panel underneath. Blood oozed from his knuckles, but in his angry passion he felt no pain. “For God’s sake, Lily, do you have any idea how many women have tried to marry me over the years? I’m willing to give you what I’ve never even considered giving another!”

“Don’t you dare include me in the troop of doxies who’ve tried to trap you. I’m not one of them. I never was. I will not marry you!”

“Oh yes, you will.” She would be his, no matter what. “I will obtain a special license and we will be married at the end of next week, when the house party ends. Our betrothal will be announced at the ball tonight, after which we will share the first dance. Wear something appropriate. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed. I have business to attend to.”

He guided her out the door and shut it in her face.

---

Her fists still clenched, Lily strode toward her chamber. Appropriate? Ha! Appropriate attire to join his band of strumpets, no doubt. She would show him. She changed her route abruptly and went downstairs to find Crawford.

“I need a modiste brought in from Bath,” she said to the butler. “Time is of the essence. I need a gown for the ball tonight.”

“For tonight? I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“Make it possible, Crawford. Pay whatever is necessary to get her here and have the job done by tonight. Charge it to His Grace.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. He’ll pay for it. Trust me, he won’t even flinch. I’ll be in my chamber when she arrives.”

Lily flew up the double staircase to her chamber. Thankfully Rose was out. Lily paced around the room, agitated, her teeth clenched and her nostrils flaring. Damn Daniel for forcing his will on her. If only she hadn’t stayed with him that first time. If only she had never gone to his bedchamber to see the Vermeer.

But seeing the Vermeer…and sharing it with him—someone who appreciated it as much as she did, enough to hang it in his bedchamber so he could gaze at it whenever he liked—had been a dream. Letting him love her had also been a dream. She had never imagined such passion and tenderness could exist between two people.

Of course she had no experience. Perhaps making love was like that for everyone.

Why did she still want him? Her heart still raced and her nipples still tightened when she thought of his hands caressing her body, his tongue tasting her, his cock penetrating her. She had refused him this morning to hurt him, but she had denied herself what she desired most.

She sat down on her bed ran her fingers over her belly, wondering if Daniel’s child slumbered inside. She had been a fool to trust him, and his actions, or rather his inactions, were unforgivable. Yet she had gone willingly. She should have been more prepared with knowledge before embarking on such an affair. She would never let ignorance get the best of her again.

Somehow, though, the thought of having Daniel’s baby wasn’t nearly as distasteful as she had told him it was. True, she didn’t want to be with child. There was too much she wanted to do first. But a child. A little part of Daniel and a little part of her, linking them for all time. She smiled faintly as she stroked her belly, and for a moment she imagined a bright eyed baby boy with silky blond hair and sparkling green eyes, bouncing on her knee and smiling up at her, loving her.

Yes, loving her.

Love.

Daniel didn’t love her. He was only marrying her out of some misguided sense of responsibility for possibly getting her with child. She was an acceptable breeder for his heir.

Maybe, though, if Daniel loved their child, he could grow to love her as well. Maybe, someday, he wouldn’t need his strumpets and mistresses.

But did she love Daniel? She cared deeply for him, more than she wanted to. And she certainly desired him. She had lied to him when she said she was only after education and experience. She had lied to herself as well. She had convinced herself at first that sleeping with him would be a valuable experience for her writing, but the truth was much more simple than that. She wanted him, and she had gone back to him because she wanted to be with him. She enjoyed his company. She liked talking with him, spending time with him, making love with him. She hadn’t been able to stay away from him.

But was that love? Especially given the fact that they had spent all of three days together?

Even if it was love, she didn’t want to marry him. He could never be faithful to one woman, given his reputation, and if she were going to marry at all, she at least deserved her husband’s fidelity.

She rose from her bed, grabbed one of her empty canvases, set up her portable easel, and fetched the oil paint set. She took out the mixing palette, chose various tubes, and began mixing the paints with a small knife. She started with a bright green and added some blue. It made a nice turquoise, but that didn’t suit her. She started with blue next, adding violet, and then went back to the green and mixed in a hint of black. Beautiful. Now a tiny smidgen of violet and dark blue. Gorgeous. She took a brush and stroked color onto the canvas, trying some of the different techniques she had read about. The hue was rich and lustrous, but it still wasn’t quite right. She started again— Drat! She was trying to recreate the color of Daniel’s eyes.

Why couldn’t she control her thoughts of him? Her desire for him?

She took the tube of black paint and squirted it on the canvas, annihilating the green, and then fell onto her bed, refusing to let the tears come.