“Do I make you happy, my sweet?”
“Oh yes,” she said, pressing her forehead against his chest. The words David had said to her so many years ago ghosted through her thoughts. What if her brother-in-law was correct in his assessment? What if…what if she could have this wonderful man and a happiness that had seemed so impossible, she had not even dreamed it? Hope bloomed in her heart so fiercely it hurt. “I cannot give up my shop.”
He rubbed soothing circles along her arm. “I didn’t ask you to, nor would I require it.”
“How unseemly it will be for me to own a business.”
“You’ll be my marchioness. Nothing will be impossible.”
Damn her foolish, foolish heart and impossible hopes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He crushed her to him in a fierce hug, and she returned his embrace, the happiness bursting in her heart none like she had ever endured.
Dear God, please let this be real.
Almost an hour later, Lily froze in the motion of knocking on the larger drawing room of Belgrave Manor. She had not been content to wait in the smaller sitting room while her love informed his mother of their news. Only now, perhaps she should have listened to her marquess.
“Upon my word, Oliver, you jest in poor taste!”
Lady Ambrose’s shocked incredulity could not be denied, and Lily flinched in embarrassment.
“I do not, Mother,” his deep voice rumbled.
“To take a commoner for your bride? Our ancestry is noble and our bloodline impeachable. Mrs. Layton has no connections, no dowry, and I cannot think you would recommend her to be your marchioness. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, but I never thought you would succumb to her wiles. Take her to be your mistress. If the rumors floating about in town are rooted in truth, you’ve already established her as your chèr ami. Let her keep that role.”
It was not as if she’d had any expectation Lady Ambrose would give her nod of approval to Oliver’s notion of marrying her, but to hear her objections still pierced Lily deeply. Valiantly preventing her lower lip from trembling, she knocked once and then gently eased the door open. Oliver was sitting on his desk, his arms folded over his chest, his feet splayed casually. He seemed undaunted, and perhaps even slightly amused at his mother’s complaints.
He glanced up, and the heat and love that flashed in his eyes stole her breath. Willing her gaze away
from his, she turned to the marchioness, who observed her with a narrow-eyed glare. A flush swept up Lily’s face, but she marshaled her emotion, lifted her chin, and sauntered farther into the drawing room.
“My lady, my lord,” she greeted, dipping into an elegant curtsy.
Oliver rose with fluid grace and strolled over to Lily. He laced their fingers together, and she glanced down at their entwined clasp, a lump forming in her throat. Somehow, she had thought his convictions would have trembled at his mother’s protest.
“Why are you marrying me, Lily?”
She snapped her gaze to his, and a shiver of delight went through her heart at the tender way he smiled at her. “Because I love you with a passion I’ve never felt for another,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with too many emotions—joy, apprehension, hope.
“I promise, Mother,” Oliver said, without taking his regard from Lily, “it is because I love Lily that I’ve asked her to be my wife, my friend, my marchioness, and no other will do. You will not make her uncomfortable in any respect. To wound her is to wound me, to deride her is to hurt me, and if you love me, you’ll love her, for she is more, far more than the social class she was born to.”
I may not be able to give you an heir… The words trembled on her lips, but Lily repressed the doubt and directed her attention to the hope her brother-in-law had given her. There was a rustle, and Lily shifted as the marchioness surged to her feet. She braced herself for vitriol that never came. Instead, Lady Ambrose smiled, her kind eyes crinkling at the corner.
“I never thought I would live to see you so happy, my son.” She walked over to them, her hands held forward. Lily grasped one, and Oliver the other.
The marchioness leaned in and kissed Lily’s cheek. “Forgive my earlier utterances. I must say, I was shocked, but now I see how you look at each other, and that is what I’ve always wanted for my son. I already love you, Lily. Surely you must know that. I must warn you, society will not be kind, and there will be those who are offended by your union. I will support you both because I love you.”
Lily almost wept her relief. “Thank you, my lady.”
“No, thank you, Lily. I’m quite pleased to see my son so delighted.”
Then, after kissing Oliver, the marchioness swept from the room, leaving them alone and the door slightly ajar.
Lily smiled. “Do you suppose she does not realize how improper and scandalous we’ve been?”
He tugged her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The sweetest ache filled her heart. “Oliver?”
He pressed another impossibly soft kiss on her throat. “Hmm?”