Page 51 of Inconvenient Honor
Doubt clung to Lily like the mold and damp that assailed her nose and congealed on her skin. Tepid tea did little to settle her stomach. Dockside inns were ever such. The diplomatic delegation sailed from the naval port, and Portsmouth held no exceptions.
As a diplomat’s daughter, she had seen more than her fair share of such establishments in many ports of call. Before, her papa’s bluff good humor always distracted her with his fantastical tales of coming sights and sounds. “An adventure, Lily, a magical time, have you but the eyes to see it!” he would say with a twinkle in his eye and dramatic gestures. Not so this time.
She took another sip of tea, grimaced, and stared at Ahmet—tall, black, and silently efficient Ahmet, dressed now in Ottoman dress. He was, after all, a eunuch, a man who could be left alone with a woman. Sahin Pasha assigned him to assist Lily along the way. Assist or guard? She couldn’t be certain. Nothing felt certain.
She pushed her cup away and fidgeted with her reticule, anything to block out the reverberating question.Am I doing the right thing?
“The lady is restless,” her companion remarked, his voice rich and rough, echoing up from deep in his huge chest.
“We’ve waited long.”
“Tedious, yes, but necessary.” The voice was rough but gentle, and his eyes, now that she looked closely, looked sympathetic. Lily merely nodded in response. A moment passed.
“Do you regret your decision? Do you question whether you have done the right thing?” he raised an eyebrow, but a gentle smile took any sting from his words.
She shook her head. “I’ve considered the alternatives,” she said.
“All of them?”
All except marrying an arrogant marquess who would disdain my background.
Before she could answer him and put a lie to her thoughts, a messenger came.
“We leave now,” Ahmet said. “If you wish to turn back?—”
“I don’t.” She rose and sped to the door, anxious for air.
Ahmet led her down the quay toward their waiting ship. She put one foot onto the gangplank to step up. A shout rose over the general noise of the docks. Lily turned her head toward the sound.
One man pushed another and ran between buildings but not before Lily got a look at him. She glanced at Ahmet. His alert expression sent a frisson of fear through her. Did he see what she saw? For a moment, just a moment, the man who disappeared looked like Volkov.
She climbed the gangplank and stepped onto the deck. Only one thought reverberated now.
I’m doing the right thing.
A messagereached Glenaire’s office the following afternoon.
You may callupon me at the fashionable hour tomorrow afternoon. The matter will not wait seven full days.
Lisle
Her earlmust be getting impatient.
His parents expected him at the ducal mansion that evening. Richard’s routine included a monthly meeting to go over estate with his father, followed by dinner over which his mother harangued him about his unmarried state. His parents’ expectations in this matter were locked in stone. Richard generally found it easier to simply comply. Lisle will have to wait his turn.
By the time he climbed the marble stairs of Sudbury House, he knew the words of Lisle’s message by heart. His seven-day reprieve had ended. He assumed the duke and duchess already knew about it also. He didn’t need his father’s dictates to tighten the noose around his neck. He got them anyway.
I’ll marry the chit, he thought irritably.She’ll do. His Grace can cease the lecture. Even Lily Thornton expects me to marry Lady Sarah Wharton. I damned well resent being strong-armed by two dukes and a duchess over the thing.
“Once you’ve safely secured the lady’s hand,” His Grace droned on, “we’ll pressure Lisle for those sweet acres bordering Mountview, the ones with the decent little house. It is one of his minor estates, part of his mother’s dower, but free now. We’ll get it written into the settlements.”
The Sudbury estate doesn’t need any more blasted land. Richard knew better than to voice that notion. A ducal family could never hold too much land.
“Her dowry will be substantial,” the duke went on, certain his son would obey without question. “You must set up in something more suitable in town, of course. That hole in the wall of yours will not do once the lady takes her place in society.” Richard’s snug little townhouse, the hole in a wall, far outshone the houses of ninety-nine percent of the population of England, Scotland, and Wales. It would make an Irishman weep with delight.
“Good,” he said, “for a moment there I thought this contract would be all gain to us.”
His Grace pinned Richard with his eyes. “The chit will be a duchess. No small prize that. We won’t sell it short.”
