Lily, One Lord's Temptation (The Garden Brides #1)

by Jane Charles

  Lily shook her head, still holding his hand against her cheek, reluctant to let him go. “I can’t leave.”

  “I am going to settle in my room. Then I will be back.”

  Lily gave her a weak smile, and then turned back to Max. “You have to get well,” she whispered.

  “That is what I pray,” Lady Wayland responded before she left the room.

  Prayer. If the roles were reversed, Max would be praying for her. Should she pray for him as well? She didn’t even know how to begin.

  Max had prayed with her before, but he always did the praying. Would she even know how? It was mentioned in the Bible a lot. Were there rules about how one went about praying? Kneeling, yes, she recalled kneeling.

  Lily slid out of her chair and knelt at the side of the bed. She clutched Max’s hand in her own, took a deep breath and looked up.

  “God, I’ve tried this before and failed so bear with me, please. I don’t even know if you exist or if you can really hear me. Max insists that you do. For his sake I am going to believe. I am out of options. I have tried everything I know to make him better, but he still suffers. He cannot die.” Tears pooled in her eyes as desperation clogged her throat.

  “God, Max is a good man, he loves you so. Please make him better. If anyone should be ill, taken from this earth, it should be me. I am not a good person and if everything I read in the Bible is true, then I am a horrible sinner. Max loves you and we need him. His family needs him. Why must one so wonderful be stricken so? I don’t understand.” Tears rolled down her face. “Please, Lord, I need to know. What can I do? Can’t you fix this?” Sobs racked her body. “I don’t understand. Please, I will do anything, just make him better and take away his suffering. Please, I beg of you. Please. He is in your hands now; I don’t know what else to do.”

  Unable to control herself, Lily collapsed and sobbed into the covers, continually begging God to make Max better until she fell into an exhaustive sleep.

  Chapter 36

  Thrashing and a fit of coughing woke Lily. Max was trying to breathe, to sit up. She stood and placed an arm behind his back and tried to help him sit. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, and was now retching from the forceful, deep coughs. Lily grabbed a bowl and placed it on his lap in the event he expelled what few contents he had in his stomach. After a moment he calmed and fell back against the pillow. His breathing was labored, his face deathly white.

  She rushed to the fireplace and brewed a cup of the new mixture Wesley had prepared. She tried to lift Max again and placed the cup to his lips. He turned his head, muttering a no.

  “You listen to me, Lord Maxwell, you will get better, even if it kills me.” Her tone was harsher than necessary, but she would not give up on him.

  His face turned back to her, eyes glassy with fever. He was too weak to fight her, which Lily counted on as she helped support him as he drank.

  With the cup drained, he fell back against the pillows and his illness dragged him back into sleep. Lily returned the cup to the table and fixed the next packet of herbs. She did not know how long he would sleep or how long the tea would control the cough. She just prayed it worked.

  His fever rose again as the sun came up. Once again she assisted him in drinking the willow bark tea. He always made a face, as if he did not like the taste. When the maid came to freshen the room she would ask for some honey. It would help the taste of the tea and soothe his throat. She could only assume his throat pained him. How could it not with the harsh coughing?

  Wesley came in to check on Max as Lily sat back in her chair. After listening to his breathing and checking his forehead for fever, he turned to his sister. An odd look came to his face.

  “What?”

  “Did you finally get some rest last night?”

  “A few hours, I suppose.” She shrugged.

  “You appear more rested, less haggard and less worried.”

  Lily knew her appearance must be a sight – she didn’t care. But haggard? That was rather insulting, even from a brother.

  “What I mean to say is, your face is more relaxed, and your posture isn’t as stiff. You’re calmer.”

  Lily thought about what he said. Yes, she was calmer, not as frantic with worry as she had been the night before. It couldn’t be on account of Max’s condition because that had not changed, so why did she have the feeling all would be well? Maybe she was just too exhausted to panic any longer.

  Chapter 37

  Max was a little more lucid in the afternoon. These moments had been few and far between, and Lily was glad she was still by his side when he woke. His fever had once again broken a short while earlier but she knew from experience it could return.

  “It is really you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “Yes,” Lily answered. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Where did you come from? I thought I was dreaming.”

  “We can discuss that when you are better.”

  “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.”

  “I love you,” he said as his eyes drifted closed. Within moments his breathing was deep.

  “I love you too.”

  Once again, Lily knelt to pray. “Thank you for not taking him, yet. But he isn’t better. Please, make him better. Please.”

  While she was bathing his face later that evening, his mother interrupted and showed the doctor into Max’s chamber.

  Dr. Cornelius stopped in the center of the room, focused on Lily. “Do you know how many people have been looking for you?”

  “Please do not tell anyone I am here,” Lily pleaded with the man.

  “Your father has a right to know, young lady. Running away. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Doctor, now is not the time,” Her Grace ordered in a tone only a duchess could use. “We shall discuss this later.”

  Dr. Cornelius gave Lily a disapproving look then turned to his patient.

  “He hasn’t gotten any better, but he hasn’t gotten worse either,” Dr. Cornelius pronounced after he finished examining Max. “Just keep doing what you have been and pray. There is nothing else to do except bleeding him.”

  “No,” Lily and the duchess said at the same time.

  “It may be the only chance he has,” the doctor insisted.

  “Over my dead body,” Lily hissed. She would never let anyone try the barbaric treatment on Max and hoped his mother believed the same.

  “About Lily’s presence here,” the Duchess of Wayland began.

  “I cannot, in good conscious, keep this from Lord Artemisia.”

  “Can you at least wait until my son has recovered? I don’t want that man in this house while Max is so ill.”

  Dr. Cornelius glanced at Max, then Lily, then Lady Wayland. “I will wait, but only a few days. A father has a right to know where his daughter has run off to.”

  “Oh Lord, please let Max get well quick. I don’t want to leave him but I am given no choice. Either I will have to run away again or my father will drag me away. Help me,” Lily whispered as Lady Wayland followed Dr. Cornelius out of the room, arguing with the man about keeping their secret.

  “Lily, are you praying?” Max asked from the bed.

  She whirled around, surprised to find him awake and walked over to him. “I have been doing that quite a bit lately.”

  He smiled and drifted away again.

  Chapter 38

  “I’ll take care of the good doctor, and protect Lady Lilian, but right now I want to see my son,” the duke yelled as he entered the chamber.

  Lily scrambled to her feet and dropped to a curtsey.

  The man barely acknowledged her with a nod of his head and approached Max’s bed.

  “When will he wake up?” he asked in a much quieter tone.

  “I am awake now, Father.” Max’s eyes barely opened.

  His fever was back and Lily rushed to make more tea but was brought up short as others entered the room. Beside Her Grace was a minister and Max�
�s older brother, Lord Warrick. She paid them no heed and went about making the tea.

  “Father, we have to protect Lily,” Max said as his father sank into the chair.

  “We will, Son. You just get well.”

  “We can’t wait,” he said before a fit of coughing set in.

  As Max struggled, his father moved to help him sit. Lily hurried over and placed a cup at Max’s lips while father supported son.

  He coughed, then sipped, coughed again. It took fifteen minutes for him to drain the cup. After he was laying down once again, he turned to his father. “I need to marry her, now.”

  “Max, no,” Lily argued. “You are sick and don’t know what you are saying. We will discuss this when you are well.”

  “Your father will be here before then.”

  “We will keep her safe,” His Grace insisted.

  “How?” Max attempted to yell. It came out sounding like a bark and once again he was reduced to a fit of coughs.

  “We shouldn’t agitate him,” the duchess insisted.

  Once able to catch his breath, Max turned fevered eyes on his father. “You can only protect her if she is my wife,” his voice was hoarse, but the determination was clear.

  “I suppose you are correct, son,” the duke sighed.

  “No. ,” Lily insisted. Yes, she did want to marry him more than anything. She’d had months to think about him, her, her actions and even if she hadn’t believed it before, she was now confident in his love. How could she not be? Max searched for three months and nearly killed himself in the process. And, if he were well and in his right mind she would agree immediately. “He doesn’t know what he is saying.”

  His eyes moved to her. “Yes, I do.” For an ill man, he sounded very angry.

  “Lily, if it gives my son peace, marry him,” Her Grace ordered.

  “It is impossible. My father would never give me permission and it isn’t as if we are in Scotland,” she argued.

  Max chuckled, which only produced more coughs. His father placed a glass of water to his lips.

  “You are in Scotland,” the Duchess of Wayland informed her.

  “How is that possible? Simon’s property is not in Scotland and his estate is right next to this one.”

  “Each estate sits on the opposite side of the border,” His Grace answered. “They are old estates and were once owned by Border Lords.”

  She knew Simon’s property was close to Scotland. She just never understood how close.

  “Gretna Green is but an hour away,” Her Grace smiled.

  “Max is too weak to travel. A trip would kill him.”

  “Just because that is the popular place to elope does not mean the same rules don’t apply to the entire country.”

  Was it true? She knew so little about eloping or the marriage laws of Scotland. Only overheard whispers behind fans about Gretna Green.

  Lord Warrick stepped forward. “Lady Lilian, if you married Max, your father would no longer have control over you. This family would always be here to protect you.” His eyes shot to the bed as if uncertain Max would recover.

  “I would never marry Max just to escape my father. It would be unfair of me to do such a thing.”

  “Then do this for my son,” Her Grace said in a soft tone. “He has searched for you for three months. Right now it is the one thing he wants. He will worry that your father will take you away or you will disappear again. Worrying about you is what landed him in this state in the first place. If you marry, he has a reason to get well.”

  Chastised, Lily stole a glance at the bed. It was her fault he was ill. And, she did love him so.

  “It will bring him peace, which could only help in his recovery,” Her Grace encouraged.

  He did need to rest and be at peace, but was it right to marry him when he was half out of his mind with a fever?

  “Please,” he weakly pleaded from the bed.

  She couldn’t deny him this, nor herself. “Yes.”

  Chapter 39

  At least his rest had been peaceful. More so than at any other time since she arrived.

  Lily turned toward the bed. It had been two weeks. Though Max was recovering, he was still weak and a cough lingered. Maxwell slept most of the time and was more coherent when awake.

  Moonlight shone across his sleeping figure and Lily turned back to gaze out at the moonlit landscape. Light caught the metal on her finger and she gazed down at the ruby encircled by diamonds. It had been an odd wedding, taking place in the bedchamber with the groom dozing off during his vows, yet the vicar proclaimed their union as legal.

  All she could do was pray that he didn’t regret decisions made while he was ill. There was no place she’d rather be than by Max’s side, but not at the risk to Max. A smile pulled at her lips. She’d fought the idea of marriage for so long and now, here she was, a married woman. There was peace in this. A peace she could never comprehend and all Lily could do was pray that she could make Max happy and he’d have no reason to no longer love her.

  Besides having Max for herself, she was also finally free of her father. No doubt Dr. Cornelius had already alerted her father. She could only pray the poor weather kept him from traveling. Was it wrong to pray for heavy snowstorms to plague the roads between here and London?

  Though Lord Wayland assured her Artemisia no longer had control, that didn’t mean he would leave her alone. The thought of facing her father once again, after all of this time, made her ill. Lily closed her eyes and vowed to keep the thoughts and fears from her mind. Worrying only brought anxiety for a situation she had no control over.

  Artemisia could not touch them now. Even if he wanted to take issue, His Grace could keep the man in court for years. He already assured Lily he was prepared to take action no matter what the cost or scandal.

  Maxwell lay with his head against the pillows, eyelids hooded as he studied his wife. Her beauty never failed to strike him. The moonlight shimmering off her hair gave it a cast of midnight blue and washed her face in warmth. He didn’t need to ask what concerns marred her brow as she twisted the ring on her hand. She just needed time. Lily would learn to accept they belonged together and could be happy, if she allowed herself. Max suspected Lily had never truly been happy and he was determined to see she experienced joy every day of her life. Well, as soon as he could get over this debilitating illness, he would see to her happiness. He just hoped Artemisia didn’t show up before he was up and about again.

  Chapter 40

  Toward the end of the third week, Maxwell sat up in bed for longer periods, drank his own tea and took light meals. Color began to return to his cheeks for which Lily was thankful. With the exception of an unexpected abrupt change in his condition it appeared Max would survive. Lily couldn’t be happier but his improving condition also brought concern. Soon he would be out of the bed, whole again and still married to her.

  “Dine with me this evening,” he requested when she came into the room to check on him.

  “You are not well enough to travel even the short distance to the dining room.”

  He grinned. “Here,” he said as he gestured to the small table underneath the window.

  Lily glanced between Maxwell, the table, then back again. “Are you sure you are ready to be out of bed?”

  “It isn’t all that far and I am tired of lying here.”

  Lily bit her upper lip. He did have to get up eventually and this would test his strength and stamina. “Very well. I’ll have dinner delivered this evening.”

  “Would you quit watching me as if I might perish?” Max quirked a grin at Lily.

  She lowered her eyes but did not take a bite of food and continued to move the vegetables around her plate.

  “Lily, I am well enough to sit here, and soon I will be able to move about the house. In no time we will be dancing again,” Max assured her. She seemed so quiet, concerned and a bit overprotective in her hovering.

  “I know. It is just that you were so sick and are far from full
y recovered.” Her dark eyes lifted and met his.

  “I promise to be careful. Now, you need to eat or you will be the one ill.” Lily had always been thin but appeared to have lost weight since London and he wondered if she ate enough. She had yet to take more than two bites of the food on her plate.

  “Are you sure you are feeling up to this?” she asked, worry marred her brow.

  Max reached across the table, placed his hand over hers and gave it a quick squeeze. “If I tire, I will return to bed immediately, I promise.”

  She returned a weak smile, but did begin eating her meal. “The food here is delicious,” she said after a moment.

  “I do pride myself on employing the best cook in England.”

  Stunned, Lily looked at him. “This is your home?”

  “Yes. Where did you think you were?”

  Her brow crinkled. “I assumed it belonged to your parents.”

  Maxwell toyed with telling her the truth of his own wealth, but chose to keep the information to himself. He knew one of her arguments against marrying him was because she would lose her inheritance and the information would bring her peace of mind. However, he wanted her to learn to have faith and bury her own demons. Then he would let her know that he was almost as wealthy as his own father from luck and sound investments.

  “I acquired it a few years back.”

  “You never mentioned you owned your own house, estate actually.”

  “There is a lot you don’t know about me, Lily,” he smiled. “I will always be able to keep you in comfort, of that you have my assurance.”

  She took a sip of wine and met his eyes as she placed the goblet on the table.

  “I hope you are not sorry we married. While you do own the lovely house, surely you know I will be denied my dowry. You’ve gained nothing in this marriage.” Her eyes drifted from his.

  It stung that she believed his sole motivation for marriage was the settlement. Yet, he had never given her reason to believe anything else. Further, it was the way of Society. After living with a father who saw no worth in Lily, no wonder she feared that only the dowry made her a worthy bride.