The Rags-To-Riches Wife. Metsy Hingle

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      Seeing the determined look on his face, Lily didn’t waste her breath trying to reason with him. Once he was finished, she would try to make him see that marriage was not a viable option.

      “Now let’s see, where was I? You already know that I’m a lawyer with the firm of Cartwright and Associates which was founded by my great-great-great grandfather. I became the firm’s managing partner last year when my father retired. I serve on the board of Eastwick Cares. I also serve on the boards of two other nonprofit agencies because I believe one person can make a difference and that by giving back to the community we make that difference. I own my home and have a boat that I like to take out on Long Island Sound whenever I get the chance. I gross roughly $250,000 a year from my law practice and have a stock portfolio that produces another six figures. My favorite food is spaghetti. My favorite dessert is bananas Foster.” Rising, he came around the desk to where she stood. He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “And I have a real weakness for redheads with skin like silk.”

      Lily closed her eyes a moment and, just as she had done that night in December, felt herself grow weak at his touch.

      “Marry me, Lily. Make a home with me for our baby.”

      He made it sound so simple. Get married, raise their baby together.

      “It is that simple,” he told her.

      Only then did Lily realize she’d spoken aloud. Needing to break the hypnotic pull he seemed to have on her, she stepped back and crossed her arms. “You’re wrong. It isn’t simple,” she insisted. And she couldn’t afford to make the mistake of believing it was. She’d done that far too often growing up. She wouldn’t do it now. Not when she had her baby’s happiness at stake.

      “Why not?”

      “Because we come from entirely different worlds.”

      “If you’re talking about the money—”

      “I’m not,” she said. “But it is a factor. For starters, I don’t own my home. I live in a rental apartment. My annual salary is substantially less than yours. I have a modest savings account and a small IRA account, but no stock portfolio. I have a five-year-old car and a bike, but no boat.”

      “Those are material things. They’re not important.”

      “It’s not just the monetary differences, Jack. You have ancestors you can trace back for generations. You have parents, sisters, a family. You know who you are, where you came from,” she said, trying to explain. “Do you know how far back I can trace my ancestors? Twenty-seven years ago—to me. I do know that my name is Lily because that’s what the note pinned on my blanket said and there’s an L engraved on this locket that I was wearing,” she said, lifting the gold locket. “As for the name Miller, it was the name of the street where the church I was left in was located.”

      “Lily, I’m sorry—”

      “Don’t be,” she said and turned away, not wanting to see pity in his eyes, not wanting him to see the tears threatening in hers. “Surely you can see now that the idea of us marrying, even if it is for the baby’s sake, is ridiculous.”

      “Why? Because you don’t have some pedigree? Do you really think that I’m that shallow? That I would judge you on the basis of something as inconsequential as where you were born and who your parents were?”

      “I’d hardly call not knowing who you are or where you came from inconsequential. For all we know, I could be the daughter of an ax murderer.”

      “Or the daughter of a king,” he countered.

      But kings didn’t leave their babies. And wealthy, handsome men from prestigious families didn’t marry orphans who not even their mothers had wanted.

      She felt him come up behind her. “So maybe I don’t know where you were born or who your family is, but you know what I do know?” He rested his hands upon her shoulders. “I know that you’re kind and caring. I know that as a counselor, you’ve made a difference in the lives of dozens and dozens of kids. I know that because of you a lot of the kids who’ve come through that door have a chance to make it, because counseling them isn’t just a job to you. You care about them.”

      Since she’d become pregnant, her emotions had been on a roller coaster. Tears which she’d seldom shed even at the darkest times in her life were now always just a look or a word away.

      “I also know that while you may not have planned this baby, you already love it and that you’ll do what’s right for it.” He turned her to face him, tipped her chin up with his fingertip. “And the right thing is for us to get married. To provide a real home and family for our baby.”

      “But we can do that without getting married,” she insisted.

      “How? By shuffling him or her from your apartment to my house? What kind of life is that for a child? What our baby needs is security, Lily—and I don’t mean just financially. Our baby needs a real family and a real home with both parents there to tuck him in at night, to have both of us there when she wakes up from a bad dream. Don’t you want our baby to have those things?”

      “Of course I do,” she told him. Being part of a real family had been the one thing she’d wanted all of her life. It had been what she’d put on her list for Santa. It had been what she’d wished for each time she’d blown out the candles on a birthday cake. And it had been the one thing she had never had. That she still didn’t have.

      “We can never give our baby those things as single parents.”

      She knew he was right. Yet a part of her couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “What about love?” she asked and lowered her gaze. The one thing she had always believed was that when she did marry, it would be to someone she loved and who loved her in return. “Marriage is more than sharing a house with someone. What chance would a marriage between us have when we don’t love one another?”

      “Who says we need to love one another? We like and respect each other. We’re going to share a child. And we already know that we’re sexually compatible. There are a lot of very successful marriages that are based on a great deal less.”

      Lily jerked her eyes upward. She had been so focused on what a marriage between them would mean to their baby that she hadn’t considered what it would mean to her, to him. “You mean you would want this to be a real marriage?”

      He smiled at her and Lily felt that fluttering in her stomach just as she had that night at the ball when he had looked at her the first time. “I don’t see why it shouldn’t be. I intend to honor our vows and would expect you to do the same. Since I don’t think either of us plans to lead a life of celibacy, it only makes sense that we would share a bed.”

      “I guess you’re right,” she said because everything he said made sense.

      “I am. You’ll see.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I think the sooner we get married the better.”

      A wave of panic hit her. “But what about your family, your friends? What will they think? What will people say?”

      “They’ll think I’m a lucky guy,” he assured her.

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