Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season 1)

“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.”