Edwin’s words were cut off as the carriage lurched again and rolled. They landed against each other with a hard crunch and pain exploded in Robert’s head then roared through his body.
The world closed in around him, and all he could see was Lily.
Then nothing.
***
Lily stared out the front door of Robert’s townhome. The air was so thick with fog, you could take a spoon and stir it.
“My lady, you can’t leave,” Mrs. Tandy said. “It’s too dangerous, and it’ll be dark soon.”
Lily nodded. Her stomach had tangled and flipped a few dozen times.
They had stopped in to pick up the books, and Lily found them with ease. They were right where she’d left them, tucked into a far corner of the sitting room where she’d spent so much time reading.
Nothing had changed. The house should have shifted shapes, changed colors, thrown up new wallpaper in her absence. Anything to seem more than a lonely building with no one but the servants to make it a home. Was Robert ever going to come home again? Lily couldn’t make herself ask. She and Anna had visited for a bit with Mrs. Tandy. It hadn’t been more than an hour, but…well, the housekeeper was right.
They couldn’t leave.
That meant staying the night.
What would Robert think if he came home and she was there?
Lily turned away, ignoring the insecurity that coated her insides like quicksand, threatened to pull her under. “I don’t want my family to worry, though, so we’ll send a servant first thing when this clears.”
“Very good.” Mrs. Tandy tried to hide her smile, but nothing could disguise the glee in her hands rubbing together or the spring in her step as she turned away. “I will get Cook to make you something to eat then. Something warm and hearty, I’m thinking.”
She disappeared out the door and Lily looked about the room. It had been her favorite, where she spent most of her time. But it didn’t feel comforting now. Pushed by a nervous energy, she moved out to the corridor and wandered until she found herself at the closed door of Robert’s study.
She put a hand out and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. Stopped. She took in a deep breath to stop the invisible hands that shoved against her chest, as though warning her away.
She couldn’t make herself open it.
This was where he’d closed the door, shut her out and lived his life separate from her. The rest of the house had been hers but this was his, and she had never been welcome.
She dropped her hand. She shouldn’t want to be welcome here. She had moved out, moved on. Just because she had to be here for a night didn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change anything.
With a few steps back, she turned and walked back to the parlor. She settled into her favorite chair, dropped her head against it and closed her eyes.
It was going to be a long night.
***
Lily startled awake.
Where was she? She blinked her eyes to adjust to the dark, as the fuzziness of sleep began to wear off. Her neck argued when she stretched from her awkward position in the chair.
In her house. She’d spent the night.
It was deep into night, the room had grown dark and shadowed, and the cold had set in, disregarding the slow simmer of the fireplace.
What had woken her up?
Thump.
The loud noise set her heart on a gallop and she swung the blanket off her legs and stood up.
Thump. Thump.
Her heart raced.
“My lady.” Lily jumped at Mrs. Tandy’s frantic tone. The housekeeper stood in the doorway, a candle in one hand. “You must come.”
“You hear that as well? What is that noise?” Lily rubbed at the grit in her eyes.
“It’s Mr. Melrose. They are bringing him upstairs.”
“Bringing him upstairs?” Why wasn’t he walking of his own accord?
She followed Mrs. Tandy into the entryway, twisting her fingers in front of her.
Edwin and Jonathon stood inside the front door, which had been flung open. Edwin was drenched in mud splatters, his mouth a grim line as they carried a lump between them.
That lump was Robert.
“Is he in his cups?” Not that she had ever seen him return home in such a state.
“He’s unconscious.” Edwin and Jonathon hefted Robert between them and moved toward the stairs.
“What happened?” Lily followed them as they moved into Robert’s room. They placed him on the bed. “Did someone go for the doctor?”
“I sent Charlie to his residence. It’s the fog, it’s caused accidents left and right.”
“You were in an accident?” Edwin was a motley mess, covered in dirt, grime mixed in with…her heart dropped as she realized the splatters and splotches on his chest were blood. “Are you hurt? Is Robert…?”
Lily stopped in the doorway. Shock grabbed at her throat at the sight of the man who lay so still, seemed so fragile.
“The driver couldn’t see,” Edwin said, “so we’d pulled to stop and wait it out. Another carriage bore down on us, going too fast. It crashed right into the side, pushed the carriage clear over and into a ditch. We dug him out, and he’s been unconscious ever since.”
“You saved his life,” she said, lifting her gaze to Edwin.
“It is what I do, my lady.”
It was an odd statement, but she didn’t question it. They’d been through an ordeal.
“Was Thomas hurt?” she asked about their driver.
Edwin shook his head. “The driver was Wayfair’s man.”
Lily looked up in surprise. “The Marquess?”
“Yes. He sent his carriage and driver.”
Lily couldn’t say what surprised her more—Robert coming home in this shape or that he’d gone to visit his brother.
“I hope he’s all right,” she said, her words slowing as she moved closer to Robert.
There was blood and dirt at his temple, matted against his hair and the side of his face. Dried streams of blood ran down the side of his face.
He was so pale. So unlike the man she knew.
“Get me some water, some fresh towels.”
In minutes, Mrs. Tandy had brought the items to her.
“He hasn’t woken up once?” she asked.
“No.” Edwin stood nearby, stoic as always, except for the hands at his sides that clenched and unclenched.
“Robert? Can you hear me?” No reaction.
Lily dipped the towel into the basin of cool water and rung it out. She pressed the cloth against Robert’s forehead, wiping away the grime a bit at a time. With every wash, she revealed more of the mottled purples and blues that rose on his forehead.
“Robert?” she called his name every few minutes, but he never responded. He never moved against her touch.
An hour later, Lily stood to the side of the room as the doctor inspected Robert.
“It’s a nasty bruise,” he said as he closed his bag. “I can’t say much more until he awakens.”
“But he’ll be fine?” she asked, stepping forward. She couldn’t take her eyes from Robert, certain he would make a move, wake up, do something.
“I don’t know, Lady Melrose,” Dr Levenlell said. “He needs to wake up before I can fully assess what is wrong. Please send for me when he does.”
Frustration raced through her, but she clamped her lips shut. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. But why was it they could never seem to offer more information than one could see for themselves?
“Mrs. Tandy will see you out. Thank you for coming in the middle of the night,” Lily told him. Her manners never failed her, hammered to such an instinct she didn’t think about it.
Lily brought the chair up close to his bed and sat.
“I can stay, my lady, if you wish to get some rest,” Edwin offered.
At that, Lily reached forward and touched her hand to Robert’s. It was warm against her cold fingers.
She remembered that abou
t his touch. It had been so long since she’d felt it, but she remembered how warm his hands always were. In the beginning, when their marriage held a trickle of hope.
“I think I will stay a while, Edwin. You may retire for the night.”
He hesitated, and Lily looked up at him. Saw the indecision etched in his brow. “How about an hour or two? I’ll remain until you return. He won’t be alone.”
Edwin gave a short nod. “Very well, my lady.”
But she could tell he was reluctant to leave. He closed the door with a soft click behind him, and Lily looked at the prone form in front of her. His wet, muddy clothing had been removed for the doctor to examine him, and Robert was tucked in, with a blanket snug about him.
She took his hand, laced her fingers with his. Her heart skipped a beat and she dropped it.
“Stupid, Lily.” Berating her silly reaction to touching him, she picked up his hand again and held it between them. “You must recover.
“I don’t want you dead, you know,” she told him. “I am angry at you. Furious, you might say. But I never wished harm upon you.”
She gave a sigh. “Well, all right. So that isn’t entirely true. A little harm perhaps. But not this.” She squeezed his hand. “Never this, Robert.”
She watched for any sign of understanding. But he remained still.
Lily remembered the glimmer in his eye the first time she’d seen him.
“Do you remember?” she wondered. “That day, that very first day.” He wasn’t awake. He couldn’t hear. Yet she wanted to know he remembered. That the memories of her life, the good ones, weren’t complete lies.
“You came to the house to call upon Cordelia.” That day remained clear. The warm, muggy day outside, the parade of suitors vying for her sister’s attention. Adam had his duty as Cordelia’s chaperone but he hadn’t wanted to go alone, so he’d cajoled her into going into the room with him.
“I sat in the corner. I didn’t wish to be accused of disrupting my sister’s place as queen of her court.” Lily rolled her eyes.
She could see the room, as she studied the men there to court her sister.
“And you,” she murmured. She looked down into Robert’s sleeping face, but saw it as it had been that day. Full of life. A wide jawline that matched broad shoulders.
Bold blue eyes that had been turned in her direction.
Looking at her.
“You were the only one who saw me.” The air had charged when he met her gaze. When he offered her a smile that barely curved his lips but set his eyes alight.
“I spent the entire time trying not to watch you but I failed.” That anticipation had made it impossible to do more than write the same words in her journal, over and over. She didn’t even recall what they were.
“I just wanted you to look at me again.”
He had, that day. Joy had spurted inside of her, in a new way, something she’d never felt before. Lily’s eyes cleared, the memory mist gone from her eyes, and she was looking at Robert. This Robert, who was looking at no one.
His gaze had slid her way again that first day.
The memory of that exact moment was forever inside of her, an explosion of light and color that painted itself on her mind in perfect, lasting permanence. All she had to do was close her eyes. She could feel the sun on her back. She could breathe in the subtle fragrance of the lavender that had sat on the table next to her. She could relive the awakening inside of her that hadn’t let go.
Until he’d let go of her.
Lily looked down at her hand, fingers intertwined with his, giving him her warmth, taking his.
“I didn’t choose yesterday, Robert.” Her confession was a whisper. “I waited for you for three days. It wasn’t supposed to be that day.” She tilted her head down. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m so sorry.” Lily couldn’t say who she was apologizing to, but her lack of awareness felt like a betrayal to the baby she had wanted so much, and the shame pushed her shoulders inward.
She slid away from him, brought her hands to wrap around her waist. Robert would wake up, and she doubted he would want her holding his hand.
In fact, he might not wish her to be here at all.
The thought was a low punch right in her belly. Suddenly, exhaustion rolled through her and she realized how late it was. She pushed the heel of her hand against her eyes to rub out the sand.
“My lady.” Edwin stood at the door.
This time she didn’t argue.
“If he wakes, come and get me.” When he woke, he might not want to see her but Lily couldn’t worry about that now.
In minutes, she was lying in bed, aware that Robert lay in his just down the hall. That in itself was a rarity. It was a sad state indeed when it took a head injury for them to both sleep under the same roof.
***
“Good morning, my lady,” Anna said. “Cook sent up a tray for you.”
Lily blinked the sleep from her eyes, disoriented. “What…” She looked around her old room, stripped bare of the small comforts they had packed away. It was impersonal, unconnected. What was she doing here?
Robert’s accident.
The night before rushed back, and Lily’s heart hitched. Lily slid from her bed and found her clothes, clean and brushed, on the edge of the bed.
“Mr. Melrose?” she asked.
Anna shook her head. “No change.”
Lily ate and dressed quickly. No change or not, she wanted to see for herself. When she arrived at his door, Edwin looked up from his perch on a chair at Robert’s bedside.
Lily halted. She wasn’t sure why, but she’d never felt truly comfortable around Edwin. He always seemed coiled, ready to jump. Not that she believed he would ever hurt her—quite the opposite in fact. Perhaps it was the sense of undying loyalty that so unnerved her.
“Lady Melrose,” he said as he stood up.
Lily stopped at the edge of the bed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Robert. His skin had grown more pale, or perhaps it was the contrast of the deepening, angry purples and blues that bled into his hairline around his forehead.
He appeared…tranquil. Despite the ugly bruises, it was the uncommon smoothness of his features, the soft line of his brow instead of the deep slashes she had seen so often. The tension that thinned his mouth into a silent line was missing.
It was startling.
“Any change?” she asked.
“No. He hasn’t moved.”
“Why did you bring him here?”
“Mr. Melrose doesn’t care for hospitals. He finds them appalling places of disease. He’d prefer to be home.”
“He doesn’t?” she murmured. She hadn’t known that, not that it was an uncommon thought. But then again, the list of things she didn’t know about her husband was long enough to pave a path to Ireland.
Just another reminder of how small a part she had played in his life. How little they shared.
She angled toward the door.
Edwin stepped away from the chair. “Stay. He would appreciate knowing you were by his side.”
Lily’s gaze jerked to Robert’s servant. “Why would you say that?”
Edwin blinked, the only movement in a calm, unmoving face. “Because it’s the truth.” His words were plain spoken, unvarnished. Because of that, she almost believed him.
She wanted to believe him.
What did that say about her? Tension coiled through her, uncertainty rose in her throat. He’d hurt her, time and again, by his utter lack of interest, by his flagrant nights away and behavior. Even in his still, ghostlike state, he had the power to fling pain at her.
“I don’t imagine he would appreciate my presence when he awakens,” she admitted, unsure of why she would tell his man such things.
Edwin paused. “I believe it would bring him peace.” He moved past her toward the door. “Peace is something that rarely existed in his life.”
Edwin escaped the room before Lily could press him. What had Edwin meant?
; She allowed herself to sit on the edge of the chair, ready to flee. She knew so little of what Robert’s life had been like prior to their marriage. He’d never been one for confidences, and after the…well, after, he hadn’t shared anything of his present, much less his past.
She touched her fingers to the tips of his. His familiar warmth gave her a sense of belonging—fleeting though it would be.
“Good morning. It’s time to wake up, you know.”
He didn’t move, didn’t react.
She settled into the chair, arm outstretched, their fingers providing a bridge. The urge to be frank bubbled in her throat. After years of attempts that ended with Robert escaping the room to avoid conversations, now she couldn’t stop thinking about the talks they should have had. The things she had wanted to say. “You have made me so angry, do you know that?”
He didn’t answer. “Of course you know that. This is silly. This conversation is not all that different from others we’ve had, come to think of it. A lot of my words and very little of yours. At least this way, you’re forced to stay in one place.”
Silence.
“What happened to you?” Her words held a sad wonder, a longing to understand that went far beyond yesterday’s accident. “What did Edwin mean? Why haven’t you had a peaceful life?”
Lily sighed. Whether conscious or not, Robert wasn’t going to share. But she couldn’t leave. Not until she knew he was going to be all right.
An unwelcome thought crept in. She couldn’t shut it out, and knew it should propel her toward the door, but she didn’t move.
But she knew, all the same, that were the roles reversed, Robert wouldn’t have stayed.
Chapter Seven
Three days later, Lily was losing hope.
Robert hadn’t grown any worse but he hadn’t improved, either.
He had, however, grown quite in need of a bath.
Lily took in a deep breath and picked up the bowl Mrs. Tandy had filled with water. She’d mentioned it to Edwin, but his look of horror made it clear bathing Robert had not been part of his duties. Very well. She needed to do something, anything other than sit by his side and have one-sided conversations with him.
She had sent a note to her brother’s house the morning after the accident, once the fog had cleared, letting them know her decision to stay until he woke up.
Willoughby 03 - A Rogue's Deadly Redemption Page 6