Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1) - Helen Hardt Page 0,61
and produced a book bound in rich red leather. “It’s Mr. Dickens’s Oliver Twist.” She opened the front cover. “And it’s signed!”
“Give that to me,” Lily said. She ran her fingers over the soft leather, inhaling its robust scent. Inside was Mr. Dickens’s signature in a crisp penmanship, dated 1839. “This is too much. I can’t accept all of these gifts.”
“He’s going to be your husband, Lily. Of course you can accept them. I’m going to open this bigger one next.” Rose removed the lid that had been loosened from a wooden crate and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Château Beychevelle, 1831. This must be from France.”
“Yes, it’s a Bordeaux. It’s delicious, actually.” Lily’s eyes misted. “Daniel…that is, His Grace and I shared this wine. We… Oh, Rose, what am I going to do?”
“Don’t go getting all misty now. Remember, you don’t want to get married.” Rose smiled. “I’m going for the next wooden crate.” She pulled out sketching paper and charcoal pencils. Pastels and water colors. Oil paints in more colors than her original set. Art books and a new journal. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t excite you.”
Lily didn’t answer. How could Daniel know her so well after only three days? So far every gift had gone straight to her heart, even the jewelry, because they had been chosen so expressly for her, to enhance her features.
Rose picked up a tin. “This is probably a confection of some sort.” She lifted the lid. “I’m right, of course. It’s bonbons.” She brought them to Lily.
“They’re truffles, dark chocolate from Belgium. Why is he doing this to me?”
“Yes, he is horrid, isn’t he? Showering you with gifts that have meaning to you. Trying to make you happy. What a cad!” Rose laughed. “Lily, if you don’t fall in love with him, I just might! Tell me the story of the chocolates.”
“We shared them together, with the wine.” She closed her eyes. “Then he kissed me and we shared the flavors. Dear Lord, what have I done?”
“You’ve fallen in love.”
“No.”
“Yes, it’s obvious,” Rose said. “Why can’t you say it?”
“Because he doesn’t love me, Rose. He’s marrying me for all the wrong reasons. He feels an obligation because he compromised me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m fairly certain.” Very certain, actually, but Rose didn’t know about the possible pregnancy, and Lily didn’t want to divulge that little tidbit quite yet. “But enough about that. Try one of the truffles. They’re sinfully delicious.”
Rose took a small bite. “That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Next to Evan’s tongue, of course.” Rose giggled.
Lily cracked a smile. “I can’t believe you just said that. Here, let’s open a bottle of the wine. You won’t believe how wonderfully it goes with the chocolate.”
“Lily, it’s three in the afternoon.”
“Who cares? I’m getting married. Don’t you want to toast me?”
“Oh, all right,” Rose relented. “Let’s be a bit wicked this afternoon.”
Lily opened the door to summon a servant to uncork one of the bottles and found a housemaid ready to knock. “The modiste is here, my lady.”
“I forgot all about her,” Lily said. “Set her up in an extra chamber, and come fetch me when she’s ready, will you?”
“Yes, milady.”
“I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone our little celebration,” she said to Rose. “I’m having a gown fitted for the ball.”
“How wonderful!”
“Would you like a new gown? Come with me.”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“Of course you could. I’m almost a duchess, after all.”
“No, Lily. I’ll wait here for you, and we can drink wine and eat chocolate when you get back. But for now, there’s one more gift to open.”
Lily stared at the large gift covered in brown paper wrapping. “Don’t let me stop you,” she said.
Rose carefully removed the wrapping. Lily gasped bringing one hand to her cheek and squeezing Brandy with the other until the puppy squealed.
“Lily, this isn’t…”
Lily nodded.
“The Vermeer? Oh my,” Rose said, staring. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“I can’t accept it. It’s too much. In fact, I can’t accept any of this.” Brandy squirmed in her arms. “I’ll keep one.” She stroked the puppy’s sleek head. “I’ll keep Brandy. Daniel said she’s too little to be a hunting dog. What will become of her if I don’t care for her?” She looked around at the gifts. “And I’m keeping the art supplies. But that’s it. Well, the chocolates. They’ll just go bad anyway.” She fingered the diamond-and-ruby