Wrinkles formed between his eyes. Pausing only a moment, he commandeered the only other chair in the room and placed it so that he could face her directly. Once sat, he began bouncing his foot up and down until the dog approached, sprawled near her host’s feet and then rested his chin on the man’s foot.
“I trust you made it home safely with all of your packages then?”
“I did.” Oh, but she must offer some sort of explanation. “The notice, your advertisement… It fell out of the paper before I gave it to my mother. My inclination was to throw it away, initially, but it… intrigued me.”
His blue gaze never left her face. “Very well then,” he finally offered, “I’d like to discuss the position with you—in strict confidence, of course.”
“But of course,” she agreed, sitting up straight.
He grimaced and then leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “After you hear me out, if you still wish to make a quick exit, I’ll not mention a word of your visit to anyone.”
Lillian paused, considering. She had wanted to leave a moment ago. The rational part of her still did. “There is a legitimate position, then?”
Again, that wince flashed across his face. For some reason, it made Lillian want to smile. Despite his unkempt clothing and hair, he was impossibly charming. And then she reconsidered. It was likely his rumpled appearance that actually enhanced his appeal.
“Possibly,” he admitted. “And, as I’m actually contemplating telling you this, I’m realizing how utterly preposterous my proposal is going to sound.”
Upon hearing his words, Lillian could no longer contain her smile. “Will you allow me to decide whether it is preposterous?” She did not know his name, or anything about him, and yet his lack of affectation had her convinced he was a genuine gentleman in all that mattered.
If he knew who she was, would he have treated her any differently? Would he have flattered and fawned over her like all the others?
“I—” He bared his teeth in an even more pronounced wince. “I am in need of an heir. Rather quickly, unfortunately.” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t a good deal of time left.”
Lillian wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly. Her smile fell. “You are going to die?” He was a young man, likely just a few years older than her herself. And he appeared to be vigorous and healthy .
He pinned that gaze on her again, and nodded, breaking her heart more than a little.
“I… I am so sorry.” She wasn’t certain what else one should say upon hearing such devastating news. “You are not married?”
He shook his head. “I considered betrothing myself to one of the ladies of my acquaintance, but any proper girl wishing to marry will want a husband for far longer than I anticipate being around.” He flicked his gaze down to the missive she’d handed him. “I had considered the ad unseemly.”
And then he stared at her again. “I hadn’t contemplated the possibility that a lady such as yourself, a lady of refinement and intelligence, would actually respond. May I ask what has compelled you to do so?”
The question was a fair one. The nature of the ad itself was improper, to say the least.
Lillian considered her words carefully. He’d been honest in what he wanted, what he needed. He deserved the same from her.
“I have been under substantial pressure to marry.” She frowned as she considered her odd predicament. “Not that my brother would ever turn me out. He’d never do such a thing. But my mother refuses to allow my younger sisters to come out until I marry, and I have no wish to—ever.” She couldn’t very well explain her natural distrust of the institution. “The ad suggested eventual financial independence. Such a prospect… is an appealing idea.” More than that— it was a spectacular one.
After Lillian’s father’s death, her mother had remarried. Lillian and her sisters had only worn black upon the scoundrel’s death because their mother had insisted.
They ought to have celebrated.
The gentleman sitting across from her had watched closely as she spoke. She half expected the sound of her beating heart to cut through the silence that followed her admission.
“I have a sister,” he said suddenly. “If I cannot sire a son, she will be vulnerable to the whims of my legal heir.” He appeared almost haunted at the admission. “I cannot allow that to happen.”
Lillian, unfortunately, did not require a good deal of imagination to picture what sort of man his heir must be. As if the knowledge of his impending demise wasn’t tragic enough, he would have this worry hanging over him.
“What if… a child is born but not a male?” It would be tragic, really, to go to such lengths and meet with failure. “What if… such an alliance fails to produce any offspring at all?”
“My family, my ancestors, have had no trouble siring males. My present dilemma results from our lack of ability to keep them alive.” He lifted one side of his mouth in a sheepish smile that sent an odd warmth flowing through Lilian. “I have an emergency plan that would be implemented if such a situation arises.”
“How old is your sister?”
“Ten and seven.” He stared down at the dog at his feet. “I’ve wracked not only my brain, but several legal ones as well in search of any legal means to ensure her security, to ensure she is safe.” And then he swallowed hard.
Was it possible Lillian was actually contemplating doing this? For the past few years, pretending she was actively shopping on the marriage mart, she’d felt adrift, purposeless. She loved her nephews something fierce, and yet they had several aunts and caretakers, not to mention loving parents.
Could she help this man?
An heir would require legitimacy. Legitimacy would require they be married.
“How long?” she couldn’t help but ask. “How long do you have?” His illness must be the reason for mentioning squeamishness in the ad. Would she be able to watch this kind gentleman weaken and eventually die? She’d been a child when her real father passed. When he’d returned from the war, he’d already begun to sicken. And yet she distinctly remembered the scent of death. It had hovered in his room for weeks before he’d succumbed.
Her throat thickened.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The doctors had spared him such knowledge then, so that he could live out the remainder of his days without counting them one by one.
“I don’t imagine you’ve any wish to delay then.” It would be better for him to see his child before his death—to give him peace in the end but also because… he would be a father.
But there was something else she needed to know. “And once you’ve passed?”
“The mother of my son will go on to have all the benefits that had been afforded to her before my death… without the burden of having a husband.” He met her gaze again. “I would only ask that you guide my sister through society.”
“And the child?” She could hardly believe she was considering this.
In that moment, he stared into her eyes. “I would rather not prolong this process… this insane search. You may have guessed that I had not intended on posting such an ad and doubt I would ever have actually resorted to doing so.” He shook his head. “But I am not in a position to delay.” Although he’d said earlier he couldn’t see her clearly, he pinned his gaze upon her steadily. “I barely know you, but I would have to trust you. I would simply ask, simply hope, that you would raise the child to be honorable and of good character. Tutors will take over his teachings eventually, but you would always be his mother.”