Love According To Lily (29 page)

“She’s fine. She’s the one who ran for help. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

Lily shifted and sat up straighter, her hand still resting protectively on her belly. “I’m fine, I think.”

He helped her stand, and she realized that the only way out was through the door over her head.

“Thompson!” Whitby called. “Come and lend a hand!”

Within seconds, there was a thumping on the outside of the coach and a footman’s face appeared against the blue sky overhead. He reached down to Lily.

Whitby made a stirrup with his hands. “Put your foot here, and I’ll boost you up.”

“Boost me up? I weigh a ton,” Lily replied, self-consciously.

“Don’t worry. I’m prepared to put my back out.” He gave her a small grin, though she could see the concern still lingering in his eyes.

Feeling more than a little concern herself, for she had not felt the baby kick since she’d opened her eyes, Lily did as he instructed, and with a few grunts and groans and the use of muscles she didn’t know she possessed, she was soon on her hands and knees on top of the overturned vehicle, rising up to her feet. The team of horses, harness and all, was long gone, taken back to the house, she presumed.

“How long was I out?” she asked, as soon as Whitby—with the help of the footman—was up through the door and rising to his feet beside her.

“About twenty minutes,” he said. “You have a bump on your head.” He touched the tender side, just above her temple.

Lily jerked back. “Ouch!”

“My apologies. We need to get you home.”

He hopped down to the ground and reached up. “Down you come, darling.” She fell into her husband’s waiting arms with the full trust that he would see her safely to the ground, and soon they were traveling by open carriage back to the house.

It was only then that Lily remembered her conversation with Magnus, and knowing what others had told her about his vindictive, malicious character, she balked at the coincidence of her coach losing a wheel within an hour of meeting him.

She touched Whitby’s leg.

Startled, he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I met Magnus today,” she replied, feeling half in a daze.

Her husband’s heavy lashes flew up, as his eyes filled with hostile realization. His shock turned quickly to fury and he leaned forward. Elbows on knees, he cupped his head in his hands.

For a long, tense moment, he sat there in silence, then he turned to her and said, “Tell me what happened.”

Chapter 32

After the doctor finished examining Lily and assured her and Whitby that the baby was fine, Lily watched from the drawing room window as her husband stepped into the carriage and drove off.

She was worried. He was going to the village to meet Magnus, and she was afraid of what would occur when he did.

He’d assured her he intended only to discuss the offer he had given Magnus months ago—the offer that Magnus was allegedly now reconsidering— but she feared there would be more to the gentlemen’s conversation than that agreement, for her husband suspected Magnus of engineering the accident, and Lily knew he was wrestling quite violently with his wrath.

Lily heard someone enter the room, and turned away from the window. It was Annabelle, looking concerned.

“What did the doctor say?”

Lily crossed to her and took hold of both her hands. “Everything is fine. The baby is kicking again, and this bump on my head will be gone in a week.”

Annabelle’s shoulders heaved with a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I’m so glad you weren’t seriously hurt. It makes me wary of ever going anywhere by coach again.”

Lily nodded distractedly.

“What’s the matter?” Annabelle asked, for she had grown very attuned to Lily’s moods.

Lily gazed despondently into Annabelle’s eyes. “Perhaps we should sit down.”

Annabelle joined her on the sofa. Lily continued to hold her hand. “I must tell you what happened today, Annabelle, and explain where Whitby has gone.”

Annabelle’s expression revealed a sudden unease. “This sounds serious.”

“I believe it is. You see, I met someone in the village today. It was Magnus.”

Annabelle slowly pulled her hand away from Lily’s. “That couldn’t have been pleasant.”

Lily studied Annabelle’s eyes, trying to decipher how she felt about Magnus being so close by, and hoping Annabelle would be able to shed some light on all this.

“It wasn’t so terrible, until the coach overturned.”

Annabelle raised an eyebrow with a knowing cynicism. “You think he did it, don’t you? Knowing him, he probably did.” Then she covered her mouth with a hand. “Is that why Whitby left in such a hurry? To find him?”

“Yes. He’s gone to the village.”

Annabelle stood up. “They’ll kill each other!”

Lily felt a surge of alarm at Annabelle’s suggestion, but she had to keep her head. “No, Whitby’s gone to talk to him about something else. When I spoke to Magnus today, he said the reason he was here was to ask me to tell Whitby that he’d changed his mind about the offer.”

“What offer?”

Lily knew she must tell Annabelle everything. She needed Annabelle’s wisdom—for Annabelle probably knew better than anyone what Magnus was capable of. “As soon as Whitby and I arrived here after we were married, Whitby offered Magnus a monthly income if he would agree to leave the country.”

Annabelle exhaled a deep breath. “He wanted to protect you. But Magnus turned him down?”

“Yes.”

“But why would he change his mind now?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Perhaps because he knows that in a few short weeks he may no longer be heir to Whitby’s title? Do you think that could be true?”

Annabelle sat down again, ruminating over the question for a long moment. “I suppose it could.”

Lily squeezed Annabelle’s hand. “Do you think he will leave England now? After what happened today, I’m worried about the baby.”

Annabelle shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know. His hatred for this family has always been the driving force of his life. All he’s ever wanted to do was hurt Whitby. What if he did this just to provoke him and draw him out?”

Lily heard the trepidation in Annabelle’s voice, and began to feel that same fear herself. What if it were true? What if Magnus knew Whitby would leave here with no intention of negotiating a financial settlement? What if he knew Whitby would attempt to end the feud, one way or another, and that is what he really wanted? A full-blown battle?

“But why does Magnus hold such hatred for the family? Does he not know that his father was dangerous? Does he not understand that they had good reason to send him away?”

“Magnus only sees the world from his vantage point, and I expect his father pushed his own hatred into Magnus’s head from a very young age. He thinks
we
are the villains.”

“Can’t we tell him otherwise? Can he not see reason?”

“Many have tried. He never sees reason. He only casts blame.”

Lily stood and walked anxiously to the window. She replayed her conversation with Magnus in her head, remembering the look in his eyes and the way he had carried himself. She had not feared him, not completely. She’d been wary of him because of what she knew, but something about him had been nonthreatening.

She faced Annabelle. “I hope Magnus does not provoke Whitby. I hope he really wants that settlement.”

“But Whitby has already been provoked. You and the baby could have been killed today.”

Lily returned to sit beside Annabelle. “I’m trying so hard to believe this is not what it seems.”

“I don’t see how you can.”

With a shake of her head, Lily reached for Annabelle’s hand again. “Perhaps I should tell you,” she said, “that when Magnus was leaving, he asked me to say hello to you.”

Annabelle looked as if someone had put a knife in her heart. She bowed her head. “He is truly a vindictive man.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Lily said, not quite sure why she was defending him, but she needed to tell Annabelle how it really was. “He seemed almost sincere. I would even go so far as to say there was a hint of…” She stopped, not quite sure she knew the right word to use to describe the look in Magnus’s eyes, and not even sure she was correct about it.

“A hint of what?”

Lily thought about it for another few seconds. “A hint of remorse. He was not ridiculing you, I’m sure of that.”

Annabelle leaned back against the sofa. “Remorse.” She sounded doubtful.

“Yes. And that is what is giving me hope that everything will work out today.”

Annabelle stared off in the other direction, then she rose slowly to her feet and walked to the window. The light illuminated her face as she gazed toward the horizon. “I understand that you need hope, Lily. But be careful not to let those hopes be too unrealistic. Magnus is a hateful man.”

Lily took a deep breath, feeling all too anxious, for she knew that she had never been much of a realist where her hopes were concerned.

Whitby walked into the King’s Arms Tavern and spotted Magnus at a table in the shadows of the back corner, with a half-empty mug of ale before him. His head was tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed.

Whitby took a minute to breathe deeply and slow the blood that was raging through his veins, then he slowly approached his cousin.

He stood for a moment in front of the table, waiting for Magnus to open his eyes, but the man continued to sit in oblivious silence. Whitby was surprised. He had expected Magnus to be prepared for a confrontation, but he was completely open to attack.

Whitby leaned forward, picked up Magnus’s mug and smacked it down on the table to announce his presence. The beer sloshed over the brim and splashed onto the table.

Magnus did not startle awake. He calmly opened his eyes and stared at Whitby, then sat forward and gestured to the chair opposite.

Whitby sat down.

“Drink?” Magnus asked.

“No,” Whitby replied.

Magnus picked up his mug and downed what was left in it, then set it on the table and raised an arm to signal for another one.

Whitby drummed his fingers on the table while he waited for the server to deliver another mug full of ale. The woman approached, and Whitby waved a hand to decline the extra mug of ale she had brought for him.

As soon as she was gone, Whitby glared at his cousin. “My wife informed me of your conversation.” He stared intently at Magnus’s face.

“It was my hope that she would.”

“She told me you changed your mind about my offer of an allowance.”

“I have,” Magnus replied, wiping a hand across his mouth.

He was drunk, Whitby realized, which was making it difficult to have this conversation. Whitby wanted Magnus to be sober, so nothing would be misconstrued.

“There’s only one problem,” Whitby said icily. “I’m having a hard time resolving to give you money, the very day you tried to kill my wife and heir.”

Magnus’s face contorted into a shocked grimace. “Kill your wife? I had a conversation with her!”

Whitby scowled at him. “This is disturbingly familiar.”

“How, may I ask, is it familiar?”

But Whitby could see in Magnus’s eyes that he already knew the answer to that. He just wanted to hear Whitby say it.

“You denied being my brother’s murderer, too.”

Magnus shook his head in apparent disgust. “We’re back to that, are we? Good God, you’re out of your mind. I didn’t murder your brother and I certainly didn’t try to kill your wife. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon staring at the wall and drinking myself into oblivion.”

Whitby sat very still, his eyes narrow. “You expect me to believe it was a coincidence?”

“
What
was a coincidence?”

Whitby cocked his head to one side. “How did you know Lady Whitby would be in the village when she was?”

Magnus tapped a finger on the scarred table. “It’s not that difficult to ask questions of the right people. Look, I didn’t try to kill her. I don’t even know what happened to her.” He took another drink, then tipped his head back against the wall again, looking blasé. “What
did
happen?”

Perhaps Whitby
was
out of his mind, because he found himself answering the question. “Her coach lost a wheel and overturned on the way home.”

“Is she all right?”

Did he hope otherwise? Whitby wondered, studying his cousin’s expression with narrowed eyes. “Yes, she’s fine.”

Magnus took another swig of ale.

Whitby honestly couldn’t say for sure whether or not he believed that Magnus had tampered with the wheel. But there was something unusual about Magnus’s behavior today. Whitby felt no aggression from him.

He leaned back in his chair, still studying his cousin. Either way, only one thing mattered to him now, and that was making sure there would be no similar events in the future, and that Lily and Annabelle would be safe.