The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

He halted, staring at her as if he had never seen her before. “You have no notion of what I wish to say.”

Lily waited with patience she did not feel. Curse this need to always be careful with another’s tender feelings. She knew only too well how easy it was to feel injured from a cutting and dismissive tongue. “Forgive me. You are correct.”

He nodded, evidently pleased. “I would like to make an offer to your father for your hand in marriage.”

She jerked, quite shocked at his pronouncement. “Sir…I…we do not know each other.” She had truly thought he would suggest courtship.

“I need a wife, and I’ve decided you will do. I understand you do not have a dowry, and I am willing to overlook that and your family’s lack of connections. I understand there is a second cousin who is a baronet? Lady Ambrose speaks very favorably of you and your family.”

“I am thankful for her ladyship’s kind sentiments. But I am not interested in remarrying at this time, and even if I were, I would not consent to marry a man who clearly believes it unimportant to get to know the manner of the woman he would take to be his wife. Your cavalier attitude to such a sacred union tells me you do not care about my likes or desires, sir.”

For several moments tension crackled in the air. Mr. Crauford drew himself up, ire blasting from his eyes. “Lady Ambrose led me to believe it would be beneficial to marry a woman like you. I can see she was decidedly mistaken. You are too bold with your tongue, which informs me of your clear lack of breeding and of ladylike qualities.”

He spun around and froze. Lily glanced back and bit off her cry of dismay. The marquess was right there, and from his cool, watchful gaze, she surmised he had overheard. A mortified flush climbed up her neck.

“A gentleman should never act like a dishonorable buffoon if he is rejected. You bow away with grace,” Lord Ambrose clipped icily. “You will apologize to Mrs. Layton.”

Mr. Crauford’s face went mottled, but he turned to her. “I sincerely apologize, Mrs. Layton.”

She nodded, and after a stiff bow in both her and the marquess’s direction, Mr. Crauford stormed back toward the manor.

“Thank you,” she said, thoroughly shocked he had defended her.

“Think nothing of it. He was unforgivably rude.” He looked off into the distance before shifting his piercing regard to her. “If you would allow me to continue as your escort?”

Her eyes widened. “My lord, that is not necessary.”

“I do not mind. I was riding to clear my head of thoughts that had been haunting me. Walking with you will do the same, perhaps even more pleasantly.”

“I’d planned to venture into the village. If we cut across the field down there,” she said, pointing to the track behind the large willow trees, “we would be there in a matter of fifteen minutes.”

His head canted left as he considered her.

“It would be my pleasure to escort you, Mrs. Layton,” he said.

“Lily,” she said, surprising them both. “Please, call me Lily.”

“And you must call me Oliver.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

The charming rogue smiled. “Oliver.”

She dipped her head in acquiescence, a grin tugging at her lips. They sauntered toward the village in companionable silence. She was so aware of him her skin felt sensitive, and she was striving hard not to show how nervous she was to be alone with him.

Is it you? Were you inside my body last night, making me wicked with want? The words begged to tumble from her lips, but Lily remained silent. She was silly in her musings; a man of his stature would never make love with a stranger, a woman who for all he knew could be a chambermaid in a secret passageway.

When they came upon a log, he held her elbow and assisted her over, and then resumed, clasping his hands behind him as they continued. Every time she snuck a peek at him, he seemed to be enjoying the peace of their jaunt as much as she was.

They made it to the village without incident but garnered a few curious glances from the villagers. The baker, Mrs. Burke, waved, and Lily returned her greeting. This happened several times before they made it to the small haberdashers at the end of the road. He opened the door for her, and she offered him a quick smile of thanks for his graciousness.

At the threshold, she paused. “I cannot thank you enough for your amiable company, my lord.”

“That sounded as if you are about to dismiss me,” he drawled, humor dancing in his beautiful eyes.

“I would never be so rude! I simply thought you would like a reprieve. I do have several shops to visit.”

“Then lead the way, Lily.”