Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
“What are you talking about?” Richard demanded. Lily looks pale and drawn, he thought, but otherwise normal.
Tears pooled in her eyes. He hated tears.
Does childbirth make women lunatics? Why can’t women be simply managed without all this emotion?
Richard sighed. He had learned a thing or two in the past several weeks. He sat on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She began to sob in earnest.
“Hush, Love, hush. I just wanted to talk to you about ‘legalizing this marriage you claim we have,’ as you said.”
“We can’t. I can’t,” Lily wailed.
“Why on earth not?” he demanded, wondering again if her mind had slipped.
“No priest. Baby already here. Your family will want a society wedding, your mother will be outraged, and the scandal will—” Lily had a full head of steam now.
“My mother has no say in it. No society wedding, you foolish woman. There is a Church of England on Gibraltar. We can probably convince the priest to backdate the lines.”
“You mean lie?” She sniffed.
“Not exactly. I told you we’re as good as married. He’ll merely formalize it.”
“You can’t want to marry me,” she said wiping her face.
Stubborn woman, now what maggot eats your brain? “I went halfway around the world, confronted eunuchs in the Seraglio, and fell in with Barbary pirates pursuing you. How can you say I don’t want you?”
“I’m a mess. My hair is matted. I must stink.”
For a moment he considered saying, “All true, but…” but thought better of it. Drawing on his diplomatic expertise and newly acquired knowledge of wives, he said, “You have never looked more beautiful to me than you do now having given birth to our daughter.” That should do the trick.
“Oh, Richard, I can’t.” This time she looked serious, and he began to fear she truly meant to reject him.
“What do you mean ‘can’t,’ madam?” He had begun to lose patience, not to mention his wits.
“I can never be a duchess,” she mumbled. “I’ll disgrace you and you’ll send me away.”
Richard drew in a deep breath.
“Duchesses come in many forms, Lily. Don’t mistake my mother for the example of the type.” He put a finger to her lips when she started to reply. “Listen to me.” He turned her so she had to look directly into his eyes.
“You will make a brilliant diplomat. You will manage a salon and dinner table that foreign dignitaries, ambassadors, and visitors will clamor to attend. Besides—”
Her eyes widened.
“—I don’t want a duchess. I want a wife. That’s what I came to Constantinople to tell you.” The look in her eyes gave him heart. “You will manage the future of England over wine. We will do it together.”
“We will?” she asked in a small voice.
“Well, that last part only if Castlereagh doesn’t dismiss me from his service after this. Even if he does, our home will be a haven for foreign relations. Think how you will regale guests over dinner with tales of the Barbary Coast.”
Her mouth twitched, twisted, and exploded into a smile.
That’s my Lily.
“Do you think I can?”
“I know you can. No other woman on the planet could be the woman I want. No other, the one I love.”
He watched her eyes soften and glow. She sighed contentedly and leaned against his shoulder.
“So, Lily, will you marry me?”
No immediate reply. What does the blasted woman want?
“I love you, Lily. I always will.”
She looked up at him then, eyes shining. “Of course I’ll marry you, silly man.” He leaned in to kiss her.
“Now that that’s settled, can we leave? Much more time and we’ll lose the tide,” a voice exclaimed. Will and Andrew grinned at them from the door; Lily blushed furiously.
Lily reveled in the warmth of the blankets Richard wrapped around her. She reveled even more in the confusion on his face. She almost giggled at the sight of the Marble Marquess finding family impossible to manage. He looked down at the baby and back at her.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Richard,” Will said. “I can carry the baby. “I’ve had practice. I know you don’t trust anyone else to carry Lily.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt herself lifted into the security of his embrace. They set off for the cove—Will, Andrew, Richard, and Lily with the little one in her basket.
“Georgiana,” Lily suggested thoughtfully, against Richard’s shoulder. “Shall we name her after your sister?”
“No,” he said emphatically.
Lily glared at him. “What then, my lord?” she demanded.
He didn’t slow his pace and didn’t answer.
When they reached the rise above the cove, she suggested, “Mary, my mother’s name.” He shook his head. The wretch. Is all life going to be a conflict?
“Hush,” he said.
Richard followed his friends down the hill, and Lily clung to the security of his arms, her face muffled against his shoulder so she couldn’t argue.
Four sailors and their officer stared at them anxiously. “Best get moving, my lords,” the officer said.
Richard lowered Lily and let her slide until her feet touched the sand. Before he could help her into the yawl, she raised her chin and suggested, “Hortense.” As she started to laugh, Richard’s kiss silenced any opposition.
“We will call her Zambak,” he said. He lifted Lily into the boat and handed her their daughter.