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

by Jane Charles

  Chapter 33

  Lily tried to focus after being jarred awake. Only a few embers from the fireplace lit the room.

  What had awakened her? She sat up in bed. The pounding drew her attention to the door. It had to be the middle of the night. Who was here?

  This was the first time she had feared for her safety and realized how alone she really was in her isolated cottage in the woods.

  “Miss, miss,” a voice called.

  Was that Jeffries?

  She slipped out of bed, and pulled on a robe, listening again.

  “Miss, we need your help. Please waken.”

  Yes, that was Jeffries. What was he doing here this late at night?

  Lily walked forward and opened the door. Cold wind and rain blew through the entrance. “Please, come in.”

  Jeffries stepped inside and she closed the door.

  “What is this about?” she asked.

  “My employer, he is ill.”

  “Has a doctor been to see him?” Lily asked as she moved to put a kettle of water over the hot embers.

  “Yes, but there is nothing he can do, and said as much.”

  “What are his symptoms?” Lily asked, ready to gather the needed items to hasten better health.

  “His skin is almost too hot to touch, he coughs all the time. It is painful to listen to, so deep. Then he is shivering. When awake, he will not eat and we can only get a bit of broth down him. He is wasting away and the doctor said there is nothing he can do.”

  Lily looked up. “The doctor has given up?”

  “Expects him to die,” Jeffries confirmed.

  How could anyone give up on healing another before the patient ceased to breathe? She turned and walked to the cupboard, opened it and rifled through the herbs and gathered jars. She placed a few items on the table and then sat to write instructions. “Give him this tea,” she said as she handed Jeffries the recipe.

  He did not take it. “We need you. Once you see him, you will know what to do. How can you give me these without seeing him? The doctor has seen him and given up.”

  Lily sat back and bit her lower lip. Since she arrived here almost three months ago she had not left the confines of her yard. She was too afraid of being recognized and someone reporting her back to her father.

  “He needs you,” Jeffries implored.

  Could she leave here? Go to the estate, treat the master and be back here without her father knowing?

  Should her fear keep her from helping another?

  Oh, hadn’t she earlier thought if others acted more like Jesus the world would be better? He would have gone to the sick man, regardless of risk. She stood. “Let me gather my things and dress.” Lily could only hope nobody discovered where she was.

  Lily tried to quell the nervous contractions in her stomach as they approached the manor house. She could not tell the color of brick but the silhouette against the backdrop of the midnight sky was impressive. Three stories high and almost as long. She just wished they would arrive, so she could treat the stranger and be on her way, but the heavy rain and mud made for difficult travel by coach. Horses would have been more practical but Jeffries wanted her to be comfortable. In fact, he had thought of everything, from the lap rug to the foot warmer. She was quite toasty inside the confines of the conveyance. Too bad she couldn’t relax enough to enjoy the ride.

  After almost getting stuck several times, because there was no road between her cottage and the manor, the coach finally arrived at the back door. She stepped down and was greeted by the cook, whom she had met once before. Several other servants were gathered in the warm kitchen, looking at her with anxious expressions. One young girl wept in the corner. Oh, she hoped she didn’t let these good people down. She had to find a way to help the master.

  She didn’t even know his name, if he was old or young, married, bachelor or widower. When she had first met Jeffries, she insisted on not knowing anything, just as she refused to ever give her name. For three months these servants had held her secret and in turn, told her nothing about their employer. Now she wished she knew something.

  “Right this way, my lady.” A young lady stood at the foot of the wooden stairs used by servants to get to the upper floors. Lily walked across the stone kitchen floor and followed the young woman up the steps.

  They exited out into a grand hallway, paneled in dark mahogany, a hunter green runner blanketed the center of the hall, revealing a dark, wood floor on either side. Every other sconce had been lit. It was enough to light their way.

  The young lady proceeded down the hall and stopped at the far end. She did not bother to knock, but opened the door and entered. Lily followed her into the grand chamber of dark blues and gold. Heavy chairs were placed by a table underneath a grand window. A fire burned high and bright in a fireplace large enough to roast a boar. Directly across was a large bed, which had to have dated back to the reign of Queen Elizabeth with its heavy dark wood and curtained sides. The one farthest from the door was drawn completely closed, probably to block the chill from the room. On the other side the curtain was pulled back and she could see the outline of a man beneath the covers. His face was in the shadows.

  Lily set her bag on the floor and walked to the bed and her slippered feet sank into a thick carpet. A male servant sitting at the side of the bed stood and made room for her to approach. She pulled the rest of the curtain back to look down at the face of her patient. Her heart stopped.

  His face was ashen, cheekbones hollow, lips colorless. Her knees gave out and Lily sank to the chair. She raised a hand to his brow.

  “Oh, Max, what has happened to you?”

  His forehead was on fire, his breathing shallow.

  Her heart was in her throat.

  Max could not die. She would not allow it.

  “You know Lord Maxwell?” the young servant asked.

  Lily had forgotten there were others in the room. “We were acquainted, friends, in London.”

  She had to bring his fever down, now. “Where is his wife?”

  “He is not married,” the male servant answered.

  Lily turned to look at the man. Surely she had misheard. “He was all but engaged to a Lady Collette when I left the city.”

  “We know of no Lady Collette, mum,” the young woman answered.

  “Perhaps you would know the woman he does call for,” the older man began. “A Lily. By chance do you know who she is?”

  Max had been calling for her? Why not Lady Collette? Or his mother? Why her?

  “Yes, I know her,” Lily answered.

  “Would you know her address? Perhaps if she were here, it would give his lordship comfort.”

  “She is already here,” she whispered to herself.

  The cool cloth on his brow brought relief from the heat. If only the person would bathe his face as well, he would cool down

  He tried to push the covers off, but they were held tight against his body. He was going to suffocate from all this warmth

  “Hush,” a quiet voice soothed. “We are attempting to break your fever by bringing on a sweat.”

  It was too much. Were they trying to kill him? He couldn’t allow that. He needed to find Lily.

  A cup was placed next to his lips.

  “Drink.”

  Max obliged, relived at the cool water caressing his tongue and throat, until it was pulled away.

  “More.”

  “Drink slower this time.”

  He nodded and the glass was placed there again. This time he savored the liquid. Water had never tasted so sweet.

  When it was empty, he lay back and with great effort, opened his eyes. The vision before him was who he’d longed to see for the past three hellish months. “Lil…”

  A finger was pressed to his lips. “Rest.”

  Max let his eyes drift close. Lily was here. She’d been found. Now he could rest.

  Chapter 34

  Lily knew he wasn’t alert when he looked at her. His eyes were glazed wit
h fever. When he locked on her gaze, a weak smile pulled at his lips. Then he was fast asleep. Lily wouldn’t allow herself to believe that Max actually saw her. In this state of health, he was probably just grateful for the damp cloth.

  The male servants had washed his body as instructed while she waited outside the door to preserve Max’s modesty. They continually dipped cloths into cold water once they had warmed and began the process all over again.

  She had mixed a tea of willow bark and as soon as Max was sufficiently covered, forced it down his throat until she was convinced he had drank enough. He did feel a little cooler to the touch, but not enough to relieve any worry.

  As she waited for more water to boil for tea, she penned a note to Wesley, hoping he would come soon. He had much more experience in treating the sick than she and Lily had to do everything to make Max well.

  “Have you sent word to his mother and father?” Lily asked the housekeeper.

  “Right after his collapse.”

  “When was that?” Lily asked as she wiped Max’s face.

  “Three days ago.”

  “With this weather it could be more than a week before they arrive.” She had to keep Max alive that long. His mother would be devastated if anything happened to any of her children.

  “How long has he been ill?”

  “Weeks,” the housekeeper answered. “We tried to make him rest, but he would not. Traveling here and there, looking for someone.”

  Lily turned to look at the woman. “Looking for someone?”

  “Yes. A Lady Lilian, but he would not explain why.”

  “It was as if a madness had taken hold of him to find this lady when we’d never heard of her before,” a footman explained.

  Lily turned from the couple and placed another cold cloth on Max’s forehead. This was all her fault. Had she not run away, he would not have been searching and would not have fallen ill.

  She never dreamed he would even know she was missing and assumed he had gotten on with his life with Lady Collette. She would never forgive herself if Max died.

  Chapter 35

  Lily sat at Max’s side through the night, the next day, and the next and through two more nights. She forced broth between his lips, and teas of willow bark for the fever and horehound for the cough. She begged and ordered him to get well. Only a few times did he open his eyes. Yet when they did, Max offered a faint smile, after it appeared he had focused on Lily for the briefest moment, before he fell into a deeper slumber. Lily wasn’t sure if he actually saw her or if he was dreaming, for often during the long hours he thrashed and talked. It was only when she whispered soothing words that he calmed.

  Dr. Cornelius arrived in the early hours of the second morning. Lily hid, afraid of being recognized and paced nervously in the next chamber while Max was examined. She wondered why he still bothered since he expected Max to die and didn’t do anything other than examine him.

  She waited in silence with the door cracked as Dr. Cornelius spoke with Max’s valet in the hall.

  “I am not going to lie to you. Lord Maxwell is very ill and the sickness has settled into his lungs.”

  “Doctor, will he...” the servant trailed off, unable to finish.

  “It is a delicate situation. His youth is a benefit, but I am afraid the illness may have progressed too far before I was called. Have you contacted his parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope they arrive before it is too late.”

  Lily sank into the chair, it was what she had been afraid of and she mustn’t let it happen. Oh, Wesley, please get here soon.

  Hours later Lily sat by Max’s side, holding his hand and willing him to get better. After the doctor left, she had continually bathed his hot skin and forced more broth and tea between his lips. The fever had broken two hours earlier, but he had yet to open his eyes.

  Wesley arrived as the sun was setting. Lily told him everything the doctor had said. Wesley examined Max himself, while Lily watched on.

  “The congestion in his lungs concerns me most.” Wesley stood, hands on his hips. “His breathing is too shallow.”

  “I know,” Lily answered, fighting tears.

  “Have you been giving him horehound?”

  “Yes,” she answered and bathed Max’s face again.

  “That is what I would prescribe.” Wesley settled into a chair. “I wish I would have brought my journal. I know I am missing something.”

  Lily paused in her ministrations. “I have the family books.”

  Wesley straightened. “Where are they?”

  She gestured to the stack under the window.

  He moved across the room, taking the second book, the one he knew was the beginning of their ancestors’ medical knowledge, and sat on the floor.

  “Calamint?” he asked, looking up.

  “No.”

  He turned more pages of the book and continued to read. “Colts’ Foot?”

  Lily looked up at him. “In my cottage.”

  “Jordan,” Wesley called for the valet.

  The man appeared in a moment. “Yes?”

  “I will need someone to go to the lady’s cottage and gather all of her jars of herbs.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “And the ones hanging from the rafters,” Lily called

  The valet left and Wesley continued to read. Lily went back to bathing Max’s brow. He had to get better.

  Why hadn’t she thought to look through the books? She’d brought them with her, but since seeing Max in such a perilous state, she’d forgotten and her mind was befuddled. It didn’t help that she’d not been sleeping, only snatching a few hours here and there while she kept vigil by his bed.

  Wesley left to prepare tea and further research the books, but Lily remained. She was just dozing off when the Duchess of Wayland entered the chamber. In haste, Lily stood and curtseyed.

  “Your Grace, you arrived sooner than we dared hope.”

  “I was already on my way to visit when the messenger crossed my path.”

  “I am so glad you are here.”

  The woman walked to the bed, placed a hand on her son’s forehead and frowned.

  “His fever just returned. We are having tea brewed and then Wesley and Jordan will wash him down again and change his linens.” Lily was no longer looking at the woman, too concerned with Max.

  “What brings you to my son’s side?” the duchess asked.

  Lily stiffened and looked up. Everyone was going to blame her for what had befallen Max. It was no less than she deserved. “I was living close by, in an abandoned wood keeper’s cottage on my cousin’s land.”

  “Many people have been very worried about you.”

  “I truly didn’t mean to cause anyone distress. I never dreamed anyone would notice my absence except my father, and perhaps my cousins.”

  Lady Wayland let her reticule drop on the bed. “My son has searched everywhere for you. He has gone without sleep and proper meals, all because of you. Now look at what has happened.”

  “I am sorry. I didn’t know.” Tears spilled down Lily’s cheeks. “I thought he was to marry Lady Collette and would have forgotten about me.”

  A small, sad smile softened the duchess’s face. “I know.” She sighed and sat on the bed. “In truth, I don’t blame you for any of this, Lily.”

  Lily sniffed. “You don’t?”

  “No. I blame your father.”

  “No,” Lily argued. “Had I not run away, Max would not be ill.”

  “Had you not run away you would be married to a degenerate,” Her Grace scoffed.

  Lily focused back on Max’s face. “I just never dreamed Max would even notice. I tried to contact him for weeks and he ignored my requests. I assumed he no longer cared.”

  “Which is why I blame your father.”

  Yes, her father made everyone’s life miserable, but he was not the cause of Max’s illness. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lily, Max never received your letters.�
��

  “What did you say?” Lily looked back up at the regal woman.

  “Max only learned you tried to contact him after you were gone, when your father threw your letters at him. Until then, Max had no idea you needed him. He called on you, but you were never home. My daughter-in-law invited you to tea, but you declined the offer and at every ball you attended Max waited for you to give him any indication that there was hope.”

  “My father forbid me from talking to Max. I couldn’t approach him at a ball.” Lily sank into the chair beside his bed and tried to absorb everything Her Grace was saying to her. Nobody told her Max called. She never received invitations to tea. “I assumed he had settled, um, decided to court...” She didn’t know what to think any longer. She had been devastated when he ignored her, now to learn he never knew.

  “Lady Colette?” Her Grace snorted. “That is what the young lady and her mother wanted and set out to bring a match about. For too long I was ignorant of their plans but caught on not long after you disappeared.”

  Lily blinked at her. The lady had lied? Why would she let everything think something that was not true.

  “It is because of the letters that Max has been moving heaven and earth to find you. He needed you to know that he would never abandon you. That he never received your letters and that had he, he would have taken you away. He would have taken you anywhere you wished to go.”

  The tears renewed. “And I have almost destroyed him in the process.”

  “I’ve made a mixture of horehound, colt’s foot, marsh mallow and ivy,” Wesley announced as he came in the room and stopped short. “Your Grace.” He bowed.

  Lily stood and made quick introductions.

  “I’ll place it by the fire. When he starts to cough, pour the hot water into the cup. The herbs are already prepared for steeping.”

  “Thank you, Wesley,” Lily said with gratitude.

  “I’ll check on you later.” He left as if he were uncomfortable being in the same room with such an exalted peer.

  Lady Wayland came around to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “He sleeps. You should rest as well.”