by Owner
blackmailer to ever disclose why Lily had even come to his house!
At this moment, Dorian believed her to be enamored and desirous of him.
But were he to discover there were motives behind every single touch, then
he would hate her all the more.
And despite all that, despite the fact that she was bound to a lifetime of
lonely misery, what concerned her the most was why she had been
blackmailed and how it would affect Dorian.
She had come to believe that she had been chosen as the seductress for one
reason and one reason only, that her appearance was not dissimilar to
Dorian's deceased wife. Camille. It was the only explanation. Why choose an
inexperienced deb over an experienced Cyprian unless there was an ulterior
motive . . . ? And what could be more salient than a similarity in appearance
to a woman that Dorian seemed to still love?
Indeed, had she not herself believed him to still love Camille?
Why should the blackmailer not be as in the dark as she herself had been?
Only when she had heard the truth from his own lips had she realized that
he was filled with an embittered disappointment.
Perhaps the blackmailer did not know this. It seemed highly likely, for half
the ton believed it!
Perhaps he believed that Dorian would fall in love with Lily simply because of
her similarities with Camille - almost like a transference of love . . . . And
thus, through her, Dorian could be further hurt . . . ?
She sighed roughly and wished she understood the deeper threads of this so
complicated situation.
What did her blackmailer want from the man she loved?
Was he in danger?
Was his very life on the line?
Indeed, was she herself in danger? If the man wanted to harm Dorian
through her, what better way to do so than by hurting Lily?
She bit her lip, knowing that if the blackmailer could intend to harm an
innocent and grief-stricken woman such as her mother, then what would
prevent him from killing a man in his prime?
Very little.
Flinching, Lily turned on to her side and cuddled into her blankets. With her
thoughts so filled with torment, she knew that it would be a long while until
she slept and also knew that were Dorian here, it would take but a moment.
When he was there, he seemed to absorb every one of her thoughts. There
was no room for anything else.
She pictured herself as she had been but an hour ago. Wrapped in his arms,
every part of her touching every part of him and Lily sighed dreamily. Her
eyes fluttered shut and for the third time that day, she fell into a light doze.
For the moment, managing to put aside the tangled mess her life had
become, to rest peacefully for a few vital hours.
****
With a deep groan, Lily cast up her accounts into the porcelain pot that Janie
had just shoved under her nose. So close was the bowl that she could see
the hand-painted roses and tulips circle its rim before her eyes crossed from
the proximity and she had to close them lest she induce further bouts of this
damned nausea!
Her fingers were white as they clutched at the bowl and her body was
tensed as her system expelled whatever it was that had caused this intense
and violent sickness to assail her.
Sensations of weakness rolled over her body in discomforting waves and
even as her stomach purged itself, she wanted nothing more than to curl
into a ball and hide from this shocking illness that had taken her overnight
and by such surprise.
When there was naught left in her stomach to expel, yet her system
continued to react as though it were full, heaving sobs escaped her. Perhaps
it was self-pity, but every part of her seemed to hurt. And even worse, every
part of her was so tired, so fatigued that each wave of nausea had her
shuddering with reaction as it absorbed almost every ounce of her energy,
energy that she did not have.
When finally her stomach calmed, she shoved the bowl away and rolled
backwards against the mattress, clutching her belly as she did. Sweat
seeped from every pore and tears of pain rolled over her cheeks, as she
rested against the ruffled and messy sheets.
Panting breaths were her only form of in- and exhalation and when Janie
hovered over the bed and glared down at her, she groaned weakly.
Instinctively knowing that a barrage of questions was about to come her
way.
“Did you eat oysters yesterday?” Janie asked suspiciously, peering at her as
though were she to answer yes, then Lily had just committed one of the
most grave crimes imaginable.
Lily lifted a hand and grabbed some of the bed sheet. She scrubbed it along
her sweaty forehead and grimaced as Janie knocked her hand away and
replace the damp sheet with a cold cloth.
She groaned with pleasure at the refreshing sensation and then switched her
thoughts to Janie's suspicious query. "Oh yes, for this just has to be my
fault, Janie, doesn't it!” Lily would not deny that her voice was sulky. “And
no, of course I didn't eat oysters. How old must you think I am?”
“Ten! If only you were, then I could smack your bottom again! For you've
done something to cause this . . . this . . . whatever it is. ”
Despite herself, she grinned. “You just try, Janie!” She sighed. “And why
must I have done something wrong?”
“Because young and healthy girls such as yourself do not suddenly start
casting up their accounts unless there is a very good reason.” Janie sighed
roughly. "If you tell me you ate oysters, I won't be angry. I promise, Miss
Lily,” she conceded in a tone of voice that managed to impart the fact that
she was being most generous.
This is what came of having a nursery maid as your lady's maid, Lily thought
with pursed lips and rolled her eyes at the thought. It meant that a woman
who had almost reached the age of spinsterhood, was still treated as though
she were naught but a child!
“I haven't eaten oysters!” It was her turn to snap. Her eyes popped open
and she glared at Janie.
The maid clicked her tongue and then tutted before returning her glare with
equanimity. “What did you eat then? The last time you were as ill as this,
you'd just eaten a tray of oysters and I had to clean up both yours and
Devlin's mess. You two were right terrors.” Janie pursed her lips and shook
her head at the memory. “It hasn't rained, so you can't have caught a chill.
Although, it has been rather gusty . . . .” Janie turned to look out of the
window. The sun was tepid but still there. “I've kept you wrapped tight as a
bug in a rug though, so it can't be that either.”
Janie tapped her fingers against her mouth and Lily took a moment to look
guilty. Janie might have done her best to keep her warm but had she not
been prancing around London with naught but a traveling cloak and
undergarments on as soon as darkness overcame the capital city?
“Well, I haven't eaten anything that could cause this kind of reaction! I am
quite sure that I would know if I had!” Lily hissed to hide her sudden guilt.
She shuddered
at the memory Janie had inadvertently raised. To a point,
her maid was correct. To put her and Devlin together was to create two
monsters of the highest degree. Indeed, had they not chased away three
governesses very early on in their lives?
But in this case, she was not only embarrassed, but the thought of how ill
she had been after this particular escapade had her stomach churning once
again. Six years ago, they had stolen a tray of oysters from the pantry.
Oysters that had been earmarked for a rather grand crowd at a dinner party
their parents had been hosting. She and Devlin had gorged themselves on
the disgusting molluscs until they had both been queasy and had set about
settling their stomachs by dousing their livers in brandy. A remedy Devlin
had suggested and which, afterward, he had quite rightly regretted.
The urge to vomit rushed through her at the reminder. Janie had had to
force her to expel the contents of her stomach due to the sheer amount of
alcohol she had consumed and thereafter Devlin had had his allowance
withdrawn for three months as punishment.
The oysters hadn't agreed with her system and neither had the brandy.
She'd never touched the liqueur since and the only other time she had even
touched the shell of the mollusc, her skin had grown inflamed with small,
itchy sores.
“You must have eaten something, my girl! What is it?”
“Nothing!” she cried, exasperated. Yesterday after having received the letter
from her blackmailer, her appetite had been nil. Even when the cook had
sent up a small tray of chocolate and toast, Lily hadn't been able to manage
it. “I ate very little yesterday.”
“Your aunt asked me to watch over you this morning, Miss Lily, said you had
a head cold.” This was said with further suspicion.
What Janie imagined was happening within the confines of this bedroom, Lily
did not know. Indeed, she was quite certain that Janie's tone of voice could
have been used during the Spanish Inquisition!
“Yes. I did. Perhaps this is an ongoing symptom,” she remarked carefully,
ducking her head to stare down at the embroidered duvet that covered the
bottom half of her body and lay rumpled around the rest of her.
Tiredly, she pulled the cover over her a little more. To do so, she had to curl
upwards and reach for it, but it was apparently a move that her system
could not withstand. A sudden shiver rushed through her and before Janie
could continue to chide her, she quickly beckoned for the patterned bowl
once again and emptied her stomach for the third time that morning.
Groaning, she released the bowl into Janie's care and raised her knees so as
to allow her to press her face between the knobby bones. It was hardly a
comfortable position, but she knew that were she to lie down, it would cause
her naught but further suffering. To stretch her torso was to invite further
stomach pains.
Blindly waving her maid away, Lily breathed slowly and deeply in an attempt
to urge her body into serenity.
It worked, slightly. The gesture was enough to have her curling on to her
side thankfully and within seconds, Janie was tucking her into the blankets.
“You shall have to tell aunt that I'm not up to dealing with any visitors
today, Janie. Could you bring me some peppermint candies?" she asked, her
voice hoarse from her throat's mistreatment as she continued. "Ask Rodgers
to buy me some if we have none in the house, please, Janie. It might settle
my stomach and my mouth tastes absolutely revolting.”
“I think we should have some in the servants' quarters, miss.” Lily heard the
sound of footsteps and felt her hair being pushed away gently from her
perspiring forehead. “Why, you really are poorly, aren't you, my lamb?”
Miserably, Lily's lower lip stuck out in a pout and she nodded. “I feel awful,
Janie. And my stomach hurts.”
Janie hushed her and began to stroke her hair just as she had, when Lily
had been a little girl. “There, there. You rest well and I'll go and get you
those candies. If we don't have any, I'll have one of the gardeners cut me
some mint and we'll have a nice infusion of tea. That should ease your
stomach,” the maid whispered softly. “Just close your eyes and rest easy
until I return, my poor little lamb.”
Lily gulped but nodded and watched as Janie walked out of her rooms and
left her by herself. She wished her mother was here to kiss her cheek and
make her feel better, but she wasn't. Mama was in stasis at the estate and
not even an ill daughter could break her out of it.
She sighed and wondered if anxiety were causing this attack of nausea. It
could very well be. Stress and fear had more than likely combined to
produce this hideous physiological reminder of what she was mentally going
through! It was hardly perfect timing. As though it weren't enough to feel
stress and fear but to have her body physically reacting to it?
From it, she felt thoroughly exhausted.
Her lack of sleep merely exacerbated the sensation. She had slept naught
but three hours before she had awoken after a nightmare. Then she had
fallen asleep again, but awoken and this time with a bang. Scrambling out of
her sheets, Lily had almost fallen out of bed in her haste to seek an available
orifice in which she could cast up her accounts!
Janie had rushed in two minutes after she had rung for her and had taken
the priceless Ming vase that contained the nasty present of her illness and
returned with a porcelain bowl more fit for this kind of situation.
Over the last two hours, she had dazedly rolled around on the bed, unsure of
what to do to ease the feelings of sickness that roiled through her, which
combined with her fatigue, had her feeling as though death were at her
door!
Perhaps that was a slight exaggeration, but then, she was ill after all. Surely
that allowed her to slightly embroider the truth!
Indeed, she was quite sure that no other debutante in London was going
through the same hell as she was!
That was for damned certain!
She groaned as her stomach began to waltz again and rolled on to her back
as discomfort flooded her system. Just thinking of her predicament
confirmed that it was the root cause of her nausea.
Hearing the door open, her closed eyes flickered open and she peered
upwards to see Janie come forward bearing a tray. Groaning again as she
curled upwards and rested her back against a wall of pillows, she sighed as
Janie placed the tray over her knees.
There was a steaming pot of tea that looked as appetizing as mud, a paper
packet of peppermint sweets and then a plate of dry toast.
“The cook said the toast would ease and soothe your belly,” Janie remarked
as Lily picked up the bread as though it were a piece of card paper.
She wrinkled her nose but nodded and reached for the tea. The stench of
fresh greens overcame her, but she grimaced and quickly gulped at the hot
concoction. Swiftly, she stuffed a boiled sweet into her mouth and sighed as
the mint combated the nausea.
“Whose candies were they?” she asked quie
tly.
“Jessica, the parlor maid's, Miss Lily.”
“Would you give her a shilling to buy some more, please Janie?”
“A shilling? That's far too much!”
Lily waved a hand. “My gratitude is such that I would give her a sovereign if
I believed that you'd give it to her at all! I know you, Janie. You'll tell me
you gave this Jessica the coin and then leave it in my purse rather than
thank the girl for her generosity!”
Janie snorted. “A sovereign, indeed! I shall give the girl sixpence!”
“Do as you will! You do anyway!” she snapped.
Janie grinned and then lifted the plate of toast, which Lily had left
untouched. "You have another letter, Miss Lily.”
Any amusement Lily had felt at her maid's recalcitrant nature instantly
disappeared. She picked up the missive and turned it over. A blank seal.
Strangely, her nausea vanished as her nerves overwhelmed her. When a
cold sweat coursed over her flesh, Lily broke the wax joint and swallowed as
she read its contents.
A short, but definitely not sweet:
Tonight. 12 o'clock.
Nodding slightly, she inhaled roughly and stared at Janie as she bustled
about the room, tidying things that did not need to be tidied at all.
Sighing, she rubbed her belly and lied. “I still feel ill, Janie.”
Janie tutted. “I told your aunt that you were still poorly, but she wanted me
to see whether or not you'd be fit for the Coldridge's ball. I don't think you
will be, do you, miss?”
“Definitely not,” she replied briskly and popped another boiled sweet into her
mouth. "What time is it, Janie?” she asked, sucking at her candy as she
spoke around its cumbersome form in her mouth.
“Almost four in the afternoon, lamb.”
Eight hours until she would see Dorian again.
“I think I shall rest. I have the headache now,” she whispered, nodding
slightly to herself.
“I'll close the shades then and leave you in peace,” she whispered, her voice
distinctly quieter.
Lily watched as the maid did just that and with the tray in her arms,
departed the bedroom with nary another glance. Leaving Lily to stare
upwards at the four poster's ceiling and ponder why the realization that she
would soon be with Dorian had instantly taken the nerves, which had swiftly
