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We were interrupted today. It was probably for the best, but know I dreamed of our interlude last night, and this time Marvin didn’t bother us in the least.
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“IT SHALL BE OUR FIRST event as a married couple. We can’t not attend!” Owen tossed the invitation to the table in front of Lily and stomped to the other side of the room, his raised voice exacerbating the onset of the migraine she feared was coming.
After a week of amiable conversations and tiptoeing around each other—using his mother and Brandon, who remained a guest, as buffers—it seemed the unspoken peace was at an end. A part of her brightened, since Owen had been the perfect gentleman for days now. Solicitous and gentle, ensuring anything she needed—including a doctor to confirm her state of pregnancy. The number of times she’d cried randomly at an act of kindness was beginning to wear on her nerves.
So, this man? The upset and belligerent Owen? She could handle him without an explosion of tears.
Hopefully.
“There will be another ball or musical or some other silly event soon enough that will be our first together. Give my regrets for this one.” Neighboring nobles had discovered that the Earl and Countess of Trent had not booked a honeymoon, instead opting to stay in Hampshire, which meant a flood of invitations overflowed their post. One such invite taunted her from its thrown position.
She surreptitiously tilted her head down to avoid the direct light piercing through the window across from her place on the settee. The bright beacon ushered in the first wave of pulsating pain at her temples, and her lashes fluttered closed for a brief reprieve.
“The Duke of Lansing was my father’s oldest friend. I will not disrespect him by showing up sans my wife after we already agreed to go. Especially when there’s no valid reason for your refusal to attend.”
Oh, she had a reason, but she loathed sharing the weakness with him.
“Why must our first outing be one so highly sought after? Everyone will stare. Curious about the country upstart the Earl of Trent chained himself to. I’d rather not feel like a bug under a microscope straight out of the gate.” A minute shudder wracked her body as another pointed spear of pain buried itself in her head. “Let’s ease into things with a smaller, more intimate affair.”
“That would have been my preference,” Owen relented. “However, we said we’d attend this one. His Grace is expecting us.” Raking a hand through his hair, he marched back to stand before Lily and she forced her gaze up to meet his, praying he’d mistake the tightness in her mouth, the cloudiness glazing her eyes, for frustration rather than illness.
“Let’s compromise. We’ll attend the ball for the minimum amount of time we can get away with, and you get to choose the next invitation we accept. Deal?”
It was fair. She knew it was fair. But she knew her migraine would not subside by that evening.
She could not go.
“No.”
“For the love of...” The epithet ended quietly, under his breath, confusion and anger warring for dominance in his countenance. And she had no doubt another tirade was imminent, except a subtle knock heralded a visitor before Marvin interrupted with a package for Owen.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Lily stood, bracing a hand on the back of the settee for support as her knees threatened to buckle. “Excuse me, I’ll leave you to your business.” Hasty footsteps led to her bedroom, where Hildy gathered her garments for washing.
“My lady.” The girl dipped into a quick curtsy. Her brows raised as she took in Lily’s pale appearance. “Are you unwell? Shall I fetch a doctor?”
“That won’t be necessary. All I need is solitude. Please close the drapes and bring a warm bowl of water with a rag. My head is aching, and those two things are the most important items of aid.” Throbbing agony formed behind her right eye. Her argument with Owen, along with the pregnancy, was taking its toll.
“Yes, my lady.” Quick as a fox, Hildy completed her tasks before helping Lily undress to her chemise and carefully closing the door to leave her ladyship in peace.
Crawling into the bed with a groan, she rolled to her back and stared up at the canopied top, fighting a wave of tears. “You’ll be fine. This will pass,” she whispered to herself in encouragement. Lily wrung out the clean rag, water dripping from her hands to the bowl, then placed the folded piece of cloth over her eyes. A sigh of relief expelled from her chest as heat seeped into her skin, attempting to soothe the pain.
She hated these episodes.
All her life she’d been fit as a fiddle, never prone to illness. Yet, everything had changed as the dominoes of her life steadily fell into ruin. From the scandal with Asa and Owen to her parents’ deaths, the stress and bitterness combined into a malady of migraines she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried. Her sisters had learned to avoid her for the day when one came on.
Errant tears escaped beneath the rag.
Was pain—physical and emotional—to rule her days now?
A plaintive meow preceded the arrival of Zinnia, her warm body slinking along Lily’s as she crept up the mattress to curl into the curve of her bent legs. Smoothing a hand over her fur, Lily appreciated the company. Low purrs vibrated between them, loosening the self-pity she’d been wallowing in, and filling her with calm instead.
Wordless gratitude etched the fingers tracing the small bones lining Zinnia’s back. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?”
This was what she needed: a companion who asked for little from her but provided comfort in return. Owen flashed through her mind, and she couldn’t resist giving into her weakness—fantasizing about his warm strength comforting her, too.
That way lies trouble.
Somehow, she’d avoided waking in his arms again after that first unexpected morning. Though, the playful flirting he’d initiated later on plagued her dreams.
Forcing her thoughts in another direction, an image of the lake appeared—calm and serene. Gentle waves lapped the shores and carried her away from her troubles as she floated in the rippling water.
“Don’t think you can avoid the party by pretending to be ill. I’m not falling for your ruse, so you can quit being dramatic.” Her husband’s booming voice and the slamming of the door broke the moment, causing her to flinch at the loud noises.
“Not now, Owen.” She pushed the words out in a weak plea for peace.
“We’re going to have this out. I’ve never known you to be one to avoid a confrontation and certainly not by acting frail. Iris commented on migraines at my mother’s ball, but I never...” His voice faltered, and she could imagine the racing thoughts forming behind those gray eyes. The Lily of seven years ago—the Lily he knew—would’ve scoffed at the notion of being laid low by illness, especially one as seemingly innocuous as a headache.
But this was no ordinary headache. And her body had changed in the intervening years, not the least of which with her more recent condition of pregnancy.
With a sigh, she dragged the damp rag off her face and peeked at Owen from slitted eyes. “This...” She paused as a particularly vehement crash of nausea hit her. Breathing deeply through her nose, a continuous prayer began in her mind as she concentrated on not casting up her accounts.
Trying again, she whispered, “This isn’t me pretending—” Another pang roiled in her stomach, urging her to swallow hard, the sickly bile burning in her throat; she’d done enough vomiting to last her a lifetime due to the baby. This migraine wasn’t going to get the best of her, too, especially not in front of an unsympathetic Owen.
The man in question stepped closer. His gaze tracked around the room, noting the closed curtains, the bowl of cooling water, and Zinnia, before returning to study her prone form. Finally, it seemed her weakened condition broke through his frustration. Brow wrinkled in concern, his haughty demeanor abated.
“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
“The baby’s fine. It’s just a migraine.”
The bed dipped with added weight as he bent over her. Moaning, she tried to avoid the gentle touch of his fingertips on her cheek. “No, I don’t want you near me.”
He ignored the faint plea as he began massaging her temples. The tender touch brought more tears to the forefront.
Oh, god, not more.
“I always cry when you’re like this. Why are you kind to me?” she asked, bewildered by the sudden change in his demeanor.
“I wasn’t kind earlier when I barged in like a boorish oaf.”
“But I deserved that. I didn’t explain why I couldn’t go.”
“You may frustrate me, Lily-pad. There’s no denying it. But ultimately, your welfare is my priority. No matter how upset I am, I don’t want you suffering, and I’ll try to alleviate whatever I can.” The soothing strokes along her head continued. “We’ll send our regrets to Lansing. He’ll understand.”
Respite curled through her at his sweet words—if only words were enough to heal her completely.
Owen disappeared for a moment, murmuring in the hall drifting into the room. I suppose those are our regrets being posted, she mused, before Owen returned to his position behind her. Relaxing under his touch, she allowed herself to accept Owen’s care as he extended the massage down to her neck and shoulders before tracing a path back towards her temple.
“There’s nothing that can help,” she admitted reluctantly, recalling the many powders and teas she’d tried to cure the affliction. “I’ve had enough of these to know the only way past it is to let it run its course.” His firm chest provided a warm support for her back, and the muscles along her spine and shoulders loosened, releasing some of their pent-up tension. “All I really need is the quiet and darkness.”
“Okay,” he whispered, and they lay together until the light filtering through the edges of the drapes dimmed and black shadows settled over the room.
***
WHEN DAWN DRIFTED OVER the horizon, Lily opened her eyes to see golden light inching across the Aubusson carpet. A breath of relief left her as she woke free of pain—the hours of sleep with Owen allowing it to finally pass. His arms remained around her in a protective hold, and Lily relished the sense of security it provided—even if she knew it couldn’t last.
Their problems weren’t resolved, despite this détente.
Enjoy the moment, for once. It doesn’t always have to be doom and gloom.
Deciding to heed the advice, she shimmied further into his body and hugged his arm closer. Owen’s chest pressed into her back as a puff of air ruffled the tiny hairs at her nape before he nuzzled closer. “How are you feeling?” His low whisper brushed over her skin like the lightest feathers drifting from a nest.
“Better. The hammering ache is gone.”
“I’m glad. How long have you been dealing with this? I’ve never known you to be sick in all the years of our acquaintance.”
Because her life had been different then.
“You won’t like the answer. They started after our... falling out.”
“How politely stated.” She gave him credit for a tone devoid of ire.
“And after the accident claimed our parents’ lives and almost Hazel’s, they became increasingly frequent. I suppose my body had reached its limit of hardship.” And now she was married with a child on the way—what possible trouble would that add to her strained mind?
Mirroring her thoughts, Owen spoke. “And now we’re here together and expecting a child. I’m guessing our argument caused this flare-up?”
“It’s never based on an isolated event,” she explained, turning to face him. “But I’m sure it didn’t help.”
A sliver of remorse crept forward in his expression. At least now, their argument was moot. They’d missed the ball last night while sleeping her migraine away.
Leaning forward, he brushed a tender kiss across her forehead. “I’m sorry. I should’ve paid better attention to you instead of flying off the handle.”
“I forgive you.” For everything.
Owen treated her well, despite her actions against him. It was time for her to forgive the way he reacted to Asa’s story and accept her part in it—even if it had been grossly exaggerated. An exaggeration that only would have occurred because she orchestrated the brief kiss with Asa in the first place.
At eighteen, she’d made a stupid mistake.
At twenty, he’d done the same.
It wasn’t right to hold the consequences of her actions against him any longer.
Especially when he’d been so kind to her and her family. Paying off Laramie. Creating trusts and dowries for Iris and Caraway. Assuring her good health with visits from Dr. Pearson, and even sticking with her through her migraine.
Yes, it was time to forgive and move on as best they could.
A tentative knock came from the door before Hildy inched inside. “Good morning, my lord, my lady. Will you still be attending the village fair today?”
She’d forgotten entirely about it. One of her favorite times in Shoreham.
“I’m not sure...” Owen peered at her, studying the growing anticipation lighting her eyes. “Will we?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Thank goodness, her migraine occurred yesterday! Another small favor from fate.