Lily's Scandal

by Marion Lennox

  And it was road trauma. There’d be other injuries as well, she thought. Even though Luke was trained in plastics, he’d have been thoroughly trained in general surgery. He could deal with whatever had to be dealt with.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she told him. She fished in her pocket and handed him her car keys. ‘Tom’s in your car now and it’s much more comfortable than mine. I’ll take him out to the farm. You bring my car later. Just get on and do what you need to do.’

  Luke turned and faced her, looking torn. ‘If anything happens …’

  ‘What will happen?’ she demanded. ‘Don’t you trust me with Tom?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Then stop with the hang-ups and go fix a spleen,’ she snapped, and held her hand out for his car keys. ‘Go.’

  ‘Yay,’ she said as she turned Luke’s little car out of the car park. ‘Hooray for us. We have a sports car and the open road. Do you want to put the hood down?’

  ‘We might get dust in our eyes,’ Tom said dryly. ‘Luke’d have our guts for garters.’

  ‘He is a worry wart,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘He is,’ Tom agreed. ‘He drove me nuts when he first came to the farm. Used to watch me all the time. I know it was because he didn’t have anyone else, but it drove me crazy. I kept telling him to clear off.’

  Which wouldn’t have helped at all, Lily thought. What ten-year-old Luke had needed had been a hug, but Tom had never learned hugs either.

  ‘And then that wife of his died,’ Tom said. ‘It was like his worst fears were realised. I tried … you know … to get close a bit, but he wasn’t having any of it. But you, lass … he’s letting you near.’

  ‘Maybe too near,’ she said. ‘I kind of like the freedom to get dust in my eyes when I feel like it.’

  ‘Then we put the hood down,’ he said.

  ‘Let’s live dangerously,’ she said, and they did.

  She wasn’t enjoying it much, though. Her stomach hurt.

  By the time he finished surgery it was almost dusk. One ruptured spleen plus the rest, he thought wearily. He’d finished with his guy, then assisted Brian with another.

  He was exhausted.

  Evie turned up as he dumped his gear and turned to leave.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I had no choice but to call on you.’

  ‘I know. How’s Finn?’

  ‘Angry. He says he thinks he’s torn a ligament and he’s taking time off. He’s not talking about it.’

  ‘I’ll talk to him.’

  ‘You won’t get any further than I did.’

  Torn ligament? He didn’t believe it for a moment. What to do about his friend?

  He looked at Evie and she looked steadily back and he thought, She cares as much as I do.

  The Harbour. A whole network of carers.

  It was a shock, he thought, and what came next was more of one.

  ‘And what’s wrong with Lily?’ Evie asked. ‘Luke, is she pregnant?’

  Pregnant. The word hit him like a slap.

  ‘No,’ he said, and then, more cautiously as he thought of the night before, ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why is she losing weight? That dress she was wearing last night was a size too big.’

  Was it? He’d thought she looked gorgeous. But if Evie said so …

  ‘Blood test,’ she said. ‘Insisting with Finn’s impossible. With Lily at least you have some control.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘I imagine you do,’ she said. ‘I’d imagine Lily would have the sense to know her health’s important. Are you going up there now?’

  ‘To the farm? Yes.’ And then he paused. His phone was ringing. He flipped it open.

  The call was from Lily.

  ‘I thought you should know before the Harbour grapevine tells you,’ she said, and he could tell she was speaking through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve just rung the chopper for an airlift. I know it’s dramatic but I’m not facing those winding roads again in an ambulance. Luke, I’ve got rebound. I’m thinking my appendix has burst. I’m on my way in.’

  ‘Lily—’

  ‘Don’t you dare panic,’ she told him. ‘I’m in control, we’re managing nicely and if you panic I’ll panic. I’m safe and I’m in control. Deal with it. And, Luke …’

  ‘Love …’ It was a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Tell me you love me.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said, with all his heart.

  She woke and the pain had stopped and Luke was holding her hand.

  She felt peaceful and warm and safe.

  Luke was holding her hand.

  ‘Did I die?’ she asked cautiously.

  ‘No.’ The growl made her smile. Luke’s voice was so-o-o sexy.

  ‘Someone took my appendix out?’

  ‘Brian Lassiter. Evie assisted.’

  ‘I thought you might,’ she whispered. ‘But I’m glad you didn’t.’

  ‘So how long,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘have you been harbouring a grumbling appendix?’

  ‘I suspect months,’ she said, and he almost groaned.

  ‘Of all the stupid—’

  ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Don’t call me stupid. How was I to know? I’ve been having rumbling tummy cramps, nothing major. My doctor back at Lighthouse Cove thought they were caused by stress, and how could I argue with that? Then I had what we all thought was gastro. I saw Marnie Chrysler and she thought I might have picked up a bowel infection. She gave me anti—’

  ‘You saw Marnie?’ Marnie did the family medical stuff in Outpatients. ‘When?’

  ‘Two weeks ago. I’m not stupid, and neither’s Marnie,’ she retorted. ‘An appendix is easy to miss, so you can stop looking like it’s anyone’s fault. It seemed to be settling—until today. I was feeling a bit odd on the way up the mountain. By the time I reached the farm I thought I was relapsing with gastro. Tom put me to bed and then I rang Patty.’

  ‘Tom put you … And then you rang Patty …’

  ‘I was ill,’ she said evenly. ‘Why wouldn’t I? Anyway, Patty came over to help. I couldn’t keep anything down. Patty’s Bill had just decided he’d drive me back here when I started feeling rebound.’

  Rebound. It was an almost sure sign of ruptured appendix. If you pressed on the appendix site, there’d be little extra pain as you pressed down, but excruciating pain when you released the pressure.

  That she’d coped … that she’d recognised it …

  ‘Patty and Tom already had things in hand,’ she said. ‘When I said rebound we thought ambulance and then I thought of the chopper guys and got greedy. Jack was at the party—he was on my speed dial.’

  ‘You didn’t think to ring me first?’

  ‘Your phone,’ she said with remarkable asperity from someone who’d just come out of anaesthetic, ‘was on message bank. The thought of leaving things till you’d finished was unappealing. And I rang you second. So here I am.’ She smiled weakly. ‘And Brian’s fixed me. At least, I assumed he’s fixed me. I assume I no longer have an appendix.’

  ‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Then you can stop looking like that,’ she said. ‘If I’m happy, you should be happy. You can’t think how good it feels to finally know what was wrong. It’s been a worry, having cramps for all that time.’

  ‘You should have told me!’

  ‘And had you worry as well? I had it covered, Dr Williams. I did everything I could. If you’re going to feel guilty that I and my doctor didn’t pick up on the appendix then you can go put your head in a bucket.’

  And then her voice faltered. She was weaker than she was letting on, he thought. He looked down into her eyes and they were moistening.

  She was feeling anger, he thought. She was distressed.

  ‘Don’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not wearing your guilt. If you think that my appendix is down to you then your ego’s more massive than every surgeon I’ve ever met. I don’t depend on you, Luke Williams. I’m me, and if you don
’t let me be me then I don’t want anything to do with you. Period.’

  And finally, finally, she started to cry.

  All this … All she’d gone through, and now she started to cry.

  He’d let her down.

  And then he thought …

  He had let her down, but it wasn’t because he hadn’t diagnosed her appendicitis. He’d let her down because he hadn’t reacted as he should have reacted.

  It was like waking from a nightmare. Walking from darkness to light. He looked down at the woman he loved with all his heart and he knew what he had to do.

  He knew that he could do it. It was line-in-the-sand time. Right here. Right now.

  With love comes trust. And faith.

  And joy.

  He wiped away her tears, and then, very carefully, very tenderly, he gathered her into his arms.

  ‘Lily, I’m sorry,’ he said, holding her close. ‘I am so, so sorry. Can we start again?’

  ‘Wh-why would we want to?’

  ‘Because there’re things I need to say,’ he whispered. ‘I need to say how much I love you. I need to say how proud I am of you, how much I love that you did what you needed to do with courage and plain good sense.’

  ‘Luke—’

  ‘Hush,’ he told her, kissing her hair. Kissing her eyelids. Tasting the salt of her tears. ‘Lily, I’m ashamed of myself that my first reaction was that it was my fault; and that my second was anger that you hadn’t referred everything to me. I need to know—and I do know—that I’m in love with a woman who knows how to stand on her own two feet. I know you’re the woman I love most in the entire world, and I wouldn’t change you for anything. I need to hold you, but I also need to let you go.’

  She sniffed. She sniffed again into his shoulder and she wound her arms around his neck and held.

  ‘Ouch,’ she said.

  ‘You push this button for pain,’ he said, withdrawing in an instant and showing her the plunger for self-administering morphine. ‘One push and the pain will subside.’

  ‘Codswallop,’ she said weakly.

  ‘Codswallop?’

  ‘Codswallop,’ she repeated, and she held him tighter still. ‘No drug’s giving me what I want. If you want to be a really, really effective doctor, Dr Williams, you need to kiss me now, because absolutely nothing else is going to solve my problems.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said.

  ‘That’ll do nicely,’ she whispered, pushing her plunger because a girl had to be sensible. If she was to hold him as tightly as she intended holding him, she needed to be very sensible. ‘For a start.’

  Spring was the very best time for a wedding. Everyone said so, from the Harbour janitors to Erich the medical director himself. The weather forecast was watched with anxiety by practically the entire hospital, because practically the entire hospital was on the guest list.

  ‘It’s like Christmas.’ Evie chuckled. ‘We’re trying to get every patient home because the staff has better things to do than play doctors and nurses.’

  Of course the hospital couldn’t be emptied entirely and some staff needed to be left behind. For them, the IT guys organised a video link, so the wedding could be seen in every ward in the hospital.

  The linking cameras were set up by a rippling creek on a beautiful little homestead at Tarrawalla, just underneath Tom’s house—on the farm they intended staying on for the rest of their lives.

  Ginnie was chief wedding planner. This was a job after her own heart. Teo planned the feast afterwards; his aunts cooked their hearts out. Half the district cooked their heart out. The rest … Ginnie had them hanging heart-shaped lanterns from every tree, stringing streamers, setting out chairs, tables, sunshades, candles that doubled as mosquito repellent—no mosquito was going to get within half a mile of this ceremony, Ginnie decreed, and who was to argue with Ginnie?

  Finn was best man. He’d gone on leave, and his arm seemed better. There were still problems, Luke thought, but even taking leave had been a big concession. Evie still worried about him.

  Evie could do the worrying, Luke decided. He’d stopped worrying. It was forbidden in Lily’s code.

  He was especially forbidden to worry about Lily.

  ‘If you worry about me, I’ll worry about you,’ she’d told him. ‘You want my stomach to be tied in knots every time you leave home? No? Then cut it out with your own knot-tying.’

  He had a handle on it. One appendix … one capable woman surrounded by an army of friends … He wasn’t alone and worrying was stupid.

  He had a wedding to focus on, and a bride. How could a man worry with that to look forward to?

  Tom was giving the bride away. ‘I know being given away by the groom’s uncle is different,’ Lily had told him. ‘But my alternative’s my mum or Harold and I’m not going there. I love Tom to bits and he loves me, so it’s perfect.’

  He did. Tom was surrounded, astonished, by the direction his life was taking. All these people … Friends … Family.

  Luke’s parents were there, trying to disapprove, trying to look superior. Ginnie had them in hand. Two champagne cocktails one after the other the moment they arrived, and they were already unbending. There’d be no miracles, Luke thought, but he was pleased they were there.

  And Gloria and Harold were there as well.

  ‘You can come if you don’t drink and you wear something respectable,’ Lily had told her mother. ‘Luke and I will pay for two nights at the Tarrawalla pub and for your air fares. No, you’re not staying at the house, but we’d love you to join us for the day.’

  Luke was pleased about that, too. Boundaries had been set, but Lily still felt she had her mother.

  More, she had an entire family. A hospital and a farming community.

  He was standing under the towering gums waiting for his bride. It was five minutes past the appointed hour. Where was she?

  ‘Brides are always late,’ Finn growled. ‘They do it on purpose to put a man in his place.’

  ‘Quoth the authority on weddings.’

  ‘I’ve watched my share,’ Finn said. They’re like watching train wrecks—a man can’t look away.’

  ‘Finn …’

  Finn gave a rueful chuckle. ‘Okay, sorry. I know this isn’t a train wreck. Even I, misogynist old bachelor that I am, concede it’s right for you. Lily has you wrapped round her little finger and you’re going to love it.’

  They went back to waiting. Ten minutes late. ‘This is killing me,’ he said.

  About three hundred people were gathered round the clearing by the creek. Three hundred people were waiting for one slip of a girl.

  For Lily.

  ‘I’m guessing this is her,’ Finn said, grinning at his friend as the music from Teo’s mate’s band overrode the sound of the kookaburras in the trees overhead. ‘I’m guessing. I’m not sure an orchestra would play a wedding march for the arrival of a door-to-door salesman.’

  Luke had already turned to see.

  The outdoor seating was separated into two sections, with an aisle between for the bride to approach. He could see her now. She was coming down the hill from the house, Tom by her side.

  Tom was looking dapper in a suit he’d bought specially—’I’m not hiring any suit for our Lily’s wedding,’ he’d told them.

  He was on Zelda.

  Lily was riding Glenfiddich.

  The onlookers gasped as one, and so did Luke.

  She was … exquisite.

  Her dress was simple, white damask silk, with tiny capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Her curls were loose and free. She was wearing simple diamond drops in her ears—Luke’s wedding gift—and no other jewellery. She needed no other jewellery.

  Woman and horse. The combination was more than breathtaking.

  She was using a sidesaddle. Her gown clung to her breasts and waist and then flared out in a lovely sweeping skirt that draped over Glenfiddich’s glossy black flanks.

  Glenfiddich was looking like butter wouldn’t mel
t in his mouth. If ever a horse could be said to be proud, it was Glenfiddich. Zelda trotted beside him and her eyes gleamed as well. They tossed their heads and practically pranced. These were horses on parade and loving it.

  Once upon a time, Luke thought, seeing this woman on this horse had filled him with dread. Now he knew his Lily. She hadn’t told him she was doing this but he knew her way with horses. She smiled at him as she neared and he smiled back, and his heart swelled with pride. His gorgeous, courageous, independent bride was on her way to marry him, and she could travel any way she liked.

  The horses halted where the seating began. Luke started forward, involuntarily, to lift Lily down, but Finn took his arm and held.

  ‘This is Tom’s role,’ he said, and it was. His uncle lifted Lily down from her horse as if he were thirty-five instead of seventy-five.

  Then he tucked her hand into his arm, and proudly walked Lily to her husband-to-be.

  The music swelled and died.

  Lily reached him, smiled at Tom, released Tom’s hand and tucked her hand into his instead. She smiled and he smiled.

  ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘You’re … There are no words to describe you.’

  She chuckled and loved him with her eyes. ‘Try.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said, simply and surely, and her eyes misted with tears.

  ‘That’ll do for now,’ she whispered as they turned together to commence their wedding vows.

  ‘Come to think of it,’ she added as he held her tighter. ‘That’ll do for ever.’

  * * * * *

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.