Love According To Lily (18 page)
Facing James in his study that morning had taken a great deal more strength than Whitby had possessed, so he was forced to retire immediately to his room afterward and collapse onto the bed.
Still wearing his morning jacket, he lay on his back staring upward, contemplating what he had just done and feeling as if he were existing in a tilted reality—as if this were not his life. It was another life running parallel to his own. A life he had no control over.
He had just driven a wedge into his friendship with James, and he’d committed himself to marrying Lily.
Lily
.
Last night suddenly seemed an ocean’s breadth away. The woman he had made love to was surely someone else, not the little girl in braids whom he had known forever. Not his best friend’s baby sister.
He closed his eyes and laid a hand on his chest, feeling as if he’d been swept away on a wave that was about to crash onto the beach and disappear into millions of tiny droplets of water, sinking into the sand. Once the wave was gone, he wouldn’t be able to make sense of it. There would be nothing to make sense of.
Perhaps that’s why he had gone through with all of this. He felt like his life was going to break on the shore and disappear. In that way, there was no future to fear. Even alienating James had not seemed important.
Only one thing had truly mattered to him this morning: Buried deep under all the self-doubts and regrets, like a small ember glowing within a heap of ash, he had yearned to spend every precious moment he had left with Lily. And he’d needed to make sure she would be taken care of later.
A knock sounded at his door. He managed to sit up, leaning on one arm. “Come in.”
The door opened and Lily walked in. She wore a blue and white striped dress with lace at the sleeves and a high-necked collar. There were other dresses he liked more than this one. This one made her look young.
She stopped just inside the door, which she had closed behind her, and he immediately recognized her agitation. She was nervous and unsure about what would happen between them this morning, now that they had to face what they’d done.
He felt uneasy himself. This was all very strange.
“I… I wanted to see how you were feeling,” she said.
Whitby felt an immediate need to reassure her. He might as well, since the rest of his world seemed to be falling apart. He at least had the power to fix
something
.
He gave her the smile he knew always worked with women—the teasing one, where he inclined his head.
“I suspect the real reason you came was to make sure I wasn’t at this very moment packing my trunks and planning my escape.”
Thankfully, she recognized the humor in his tone, and the tension drained from her face. She let out a deep breath and smiled.
He was glad he had succeeded in easing her worries, but realized he still had his own to deal with. But he would not let her see that.
He smiled in return and held out his hand. “Come here.”
She relaxed even more and crossed toward him, sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.
“Did you tell your mother?” he asked.
“Yes. She wasn’t happy.” Lily lowered her gaze. “She was quite miffed at me, actually.”
He tried to lighten the mood. “What mother wouldn’t be, knowing her daughter was dashing into the clutches of an irresponsible, reckless man like me?”
Lily’s smile seemed forced. “You’re not reckless.”
He nodded as if to say
thank you for the sentiment
, even though they both knew it wasn’t true.
“Will you be all right?” he asked, after a few seconds of heavy silence.
“Of course.” She raised her chin and strengthened her tone. “I don’t care what she thinks anymore. I’m through trying to please her. I can do without her. She’s storming off to London in a huff today, and I’ll be glad when she’s gone.”
He stared at her for a long moment, suspecting she was not being completely truthful with him. Then, as he ran his fingers down the side of her face and looked into her eyes, he realized it was herself she was trying to convince, not him. She was, in actuality, suffering very deeply right now.
Dear, dear Lily
. He closed his eyes for a moment. She had defied and disappointed her mother, whom she had only ever wished to please, and she had done it for him.
He felt a great weight descend upon his shoulders suddenly. There would be so many expectations to fulfill for Lily, and he
did
want to fulfill them. He
did
.
He hoped with all the pain in his heart that at least this issue with her mother would work itself out in time, because there would surely be others.
“What about Sophia?” he asked. “Did you speak to her as well?”
“Yes. She was happy for me, and so was Annabelle.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
“What about James?” Lily asked. “I see you’re still walking, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Still lightly brushing his fingers over her soft cheeks, he explained what had occurred in her brother’s study, and what James had said.
“He had no right to treat you that way,” Lily said. “He was not always perfect himself. Besides, I’m not a child anymore and he cannot control my heart. I can make my own decisions.”
They sat for a moment, while Lily seemed to be thinking about everything that was happening. Then she spoke with a hint of humor, evidently feeling a need to lighten the mood or fill the silence. “I am at least relieved that he didn’t break your legs this morning. It will be difficult enough as it is to get you down the aisle.”
Whitby laughed. “Yes, but if my legs were in splints, at least I wouldn’t be able to dash off into the countryside when the reverend asks me to say
I do.‘”
She smiled along with him, but then turned serious again. “We are jesting, I hope.”
He cradled her chin in his hand. “Of course we are. Nothing could keep me from walking down the aisle to marry you, Lily, even if I had to crawl.”
Yet he knew—they both knew—that there was some kernel of truth in their teasing. Marriage was not something he’d ever been comfortable with in the past—not that he was completely comfortable with it now either—but the decision was made.
“You look tired,” she said.
“I am.” He felt sluggish and feverish, and he needed to sleep.
Lily took his hand in hers and kissed it, then backed away from the bed. “I should let you get some rest.”
“Yes.”
She crossed the room, but paused at the door and spoke hesitantly. “Unless you would like some company? I could lie down with you.”
He crawled toward the pillows, thinking of nothing but closing his eyes, for he was breaking into a sweat. “I don’t think that would be wise,” he said. “Your mother is probably keeping a close watch before she goes.”
She shrugged, as if to say it didn’t matter.
He eased himself into a comfortable position on his back, let out a deep breath and draped an arm over his face. “Really Lily, I’m very tired. It’s been a difficult morning, and I just need to sleep.”
He couldn’t think anymore. He was completely drained.
Still standing by the door, she nodded and spoke quickly. “Of course. I understand. You need to rest. I won’t bother you.”
He loosened his neck cloth, pulled it from his shirt collar and tossed it onto the floor. Then he wondered why she wasn’t gone yet, because he really wanted to close his eyes.
He glanced over at her, and recognized immediately that she was feeling insecure and uncertain and…
God
, her feelings were hurt.
He swallowed painfully, knowing that he was not behaving the way he wished to behave with her—he wanted to make her feel
loved
—but bloody hell, he didn’t have the energy to work at it right now. He was depleted. It was too much presently, when he was feeling dizzy and nauseous. He just needed to be alone.
Nevertheless, he managed a hint of a smile. “I’ll dream of our wedding night.”
He hoped that would be sufficient to fix what she was feeling, because there was nothing else he could do right now outside of falling into a deep slumber.
The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “I will, too.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Whitby immediately drifted off.
Lily stood outside her brother’s study for a few nervous seconds before she knocked. She had intended to come here because she could not bear to see a friendship destroyed because of her, and she’d wanted to talk to James about it.
But now as she stood with her hand upheld, about to knock, she realized the true reason she was here was because she wasn’t sure she could get through the future without her brother. Or
someone
. Which was disturbing. She had been so sure that her love for Whitby would be all she’d need. But after this morning, she wasn’t so sure. She had felt a bit of awkwardness between them, and she knew it was not just his illness.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked, and heard a disgruntled “Enter!” from inside.
A sudden dread landed like a hot brick in the pit of her stomach, for her brother could be an intimidating man when he chose to be. But she would not let it stop her from doing what she had to do—help him see that this was going to happen, whether he liked it or not.
She pushed the door open and entered. He was sitting at his desk, and when he saw her, he laid down his pen and sat back. “Well, it’s about time. I’ve been looking for you. No one knew where you were, so I could only assume you were in Whitby’s bedchamber.”
Lily stared blankly at him, her heart racing beneath the intensity of his stare.
“And I was hardly about to break down the door,” he continued. “I’d already done that once before, but at least in Paris, there was no one around to witness it and cause a scandal.”
She had been feeling some regret about the way things had occurred over the past twenty-four hours, for she had not included her family in her decisions, and she had come here hoping to smooth out at least one of those rifts. But right now, anger was boiling up within her. This had not been an easy day; she was unsure of so many things, and this treatment was only adding to it. First her mother, now James…
He narrowed his gaze at her. “It pains me, Lily, that I was the last to know.”
“You were
not
the last to know,” she firmly told him. “You were in fact one of the first.”
“But too late to have any say in the matter. From what I understand, this marriage is a necessity.”
“A necessity that I desire more than anything else in the world.”
James leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, weaving his fingers together. “So you made sure there would be no way to stop you—even though there are many issues that could be considered more than reasonable grounds to do so.”
Lily shook her head in dismay. “I hadn’t planned on things happening the way they did. They just did.”
James stood and walked around the desk. He came to stand before her. “I’m not surprised to hear you hadn’t planned it. You’re young and inexperienced, and Whitby has that effect on women. He knows what he’s doing. I am, however, surprised that he allowed it to happen, considering the fact that you are my sister. He should have known better. He should have exercised some self-restraint.”
She slid forward in her chair. “You can’t blame him. I know this may be hard for you to believe, James, because you still see me as a child, but I was the one who initiated it. I seduced
him
. I wanted it.”
He was indeed surprised. She could see it in his eyes. He had not expected to hear his baby sister speak in such a way.
“You could be a widow before the year is out,” he said flatly.
“I am aware of that. I am not a fool. I weighed it carefully in my decision. But I would rather have six months or even one month with Whitby, than no time at all.”
“This is all very romantic, Lily—giving yourself to your dying love, but what if he lives and is an unfaithful, unloving husband? That could result in a lifetime of pain that never gives you the chance to recover and move on. You could be waking up every day for the rest of your married life attending another funeral—the funeral for your dead happiness. And there would be no burial, no closure, till death do you part.”
God, she had not wanted to hear that. It made her stomach burn with apprehension.
She dropped her gaze. This was all so terrifying.
Lily took a moment to pause and gather her resolve and remind herself that she had known this was going to be difficult when she had made the decision to pursue Whitby. She knew he would not be an easy man to love.
But she did love him, and she needed to marry him, nothing could stop her, and James’s disapproval was not going to help anyone. She needed his support. And to get it, she needed to prove to him that she could—and would—make her own decisions and not need to be bailed out like last time.
“Why does everyone assume Whitby will hurt me or make me unhappy?” she asked. “Does no one believe he might possess some honor deep down?”
“Whitby has many different kinds of honor. I would not be his friend otherwise. But he is a broken man, and I believe it is only this close brush with death that is making him behave out of character. It is romantic for him, too. He doesn’t have to worry about the future. He can have this time with you, risk free. Risk free for
him
.”
“What do you mean, ‘he is a broken man’?”
James shook his head and took her by the arm. He led her to the sofa and sat down beside her. “His parents died when he was very young, and losing his mother was especially traumatic for him. After she was gone, Whitby had many nurses and a vulgar uncle who ran the estate and managed Whitby’s upbringing. Poorly.”
“How?”
“None of the nurses stayed very long because Whitby’s uncle liked to help himself to the help, if you understand my meaning.”
Lily covered her mouth with a hand.
“Whitby once told me that he made a point at a very young age not to become attached to any of the women in the household because he knew they would all leave eventually.”
Lily was beginning to understand what James was trying to tell her—that Whitby was not even capable of loving someone.
“Lily, you think you weighed your decision carefully, but how could you have, when you don’t really know everything there is to know about Whitby?”
Lily considered this. She
had
been very romantic about her feelings toward him, and caught up in the sweltering heat of her passions.
But no, she could not let herself be talked into the belief that there was no hope for happiness. She would never be able to survive the future if she gave into that.
She responded by forcing herself to remember how she had felt in Whitby’s arms the night before, and how he had loved her with his body. Those loving emotions had been real, and she’d felt them from him. She
had
! She could not let this change her mind. She was meant to be with him. She had to believe that.
Lily brought her mind back to the things James was saying to her. She had to argue her point. She had to convince him she would be all right. “Sophia didn’t know everything about you, James, but it hasn’t stopped the two of you from making a good marriage. Love can heal wounds.”
“You are very romantic; you always were. But it’s dangerous to believe you can change someone.”
“I don’t want to change him. I love him the way he is.”
“But you don’t know who he is. You know the young man who played games with you as a child and laughed with you and chased you around the garden. You know the charm he can wield in a drawing room. There is much more to him than that. There is a darker side he rarely shows to the world. He is not a happy man.”
Lily felt her brows pull together with bewilderment. “If that’s true, I can help him.”
“Again Lily, you are being overly romantic, thinking you can rescue him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m a woman, James. It’s no longer up to you to protect me. I
will
be marrying Whitby.”
He bowed his head, and she knew he was finding this all very difficult to bear. Finally he met her gaze and took her chin in his hand. “You have indeed become a woman, Lily, and I am at least pleased to discover that you have become a strong one.”
She smiled faintly, wanting him to know she was grateful for this concession on his part, yet deep down in the fretful places in her soul, she did not feel particularly strong at this moment. She felt like she would crumble to dust if the breeze blew a certain way. And she felt as if all her words were a great pretense, for she was
not
entirely confident in what she was doing.
He shook his head at her. “If you love him that much, I suppose I can’t stand in your way.”
“Do you mean it, James?”
He nodded.
She put her arms around his neck and hugged him.
A knock sounded at the door, and Lily and James stepped apart.
“Come in,” James said.
Dr. Trider entered. “Good morning, Your Grace. I’ve come to see the patient, and I’d like to consider doing the biopsy today.”
Lily quaked with sudden panic. She wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want to know the results of the procedure, or if she was simply afraid of a possible infection from it. She supposed it was both.
James spoke matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid it can’t be done yet, Dr. Trider.”
“Well, if I could examine him, we might find that he is well enough to—”
“You may certainly examine him. That would be good of you. But the procedure must be postponed at least a week, as Lord Whitby and Lady Lily are to be married.”
Lily gazed up at James.
There it was.
It was official, and suddenly very real. She would be Whitby’s wife. Till death do them part. In sickness and in health. And she had her brother’s support.
But when she looked into his eyes, she understood that that support was tenuous. James looked mournful, certain that she would, in a very short time, suffer great anguish and despair.
All of a sudden, she experienced a painful burning sensation in her chest. She couldn’t look at her brother.
So she did the only thing she could. She tore her gaze away from his face—very hastily—and tried to paste on a smile as she accepted the doctor’s tentative congratulations.
