Rebellious Bride (25 page)

Rolfe directed his attention to his wife. She appeared nervous and anxious. Both traits were foreign to her, and he wondered what troubled her. He was certain the wound didn’t concern her; she actually seemed to take it in stride, considering it a minor matter.

“Both men are in jail. I’ll send them on their way in the morning with a strong warning not to return to Little,” he answered.

“Your warnings always did work,” Lil said, glad Doc was finished with her. She inched to the edge of the table, and Rolfe started to reach out to help her down.

Doc wiped his hands dry and threw the soiled cloth on the table. “Now go home and rest, Lil. You and the baby need it.”

Silence suddenly hung heavy in the room. No one moved. No one seemed to breathe.

Doc looked from one to the other until his glance settled on Lil. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“No, she didn’t,” Rolfe answered for her, each word delivered with a precise curtness.

Doc chastised her with a rough shake of his head and then walked from the room.

“We’ll talk with you later, Lil,” her father said, and he and Holly also left the room, leaving the delicate matter to husband and wife.

Lil remained seated on the table, Rolfe having pulled his hand away from her when Doc made his surprising announcement.

“I’d like to explain.”

Rolfe stood in front of her, his arms folded across his chest. “You have much to explain, madam.”

Lil chewed at the corner of her mouth for a moment, considering where to begin. Being a straightforward person, she chose directness. “I was afraid you would worry about me, think my fate might be the same as Bea’s and Dora’s, and in your husbandly concern attempt to curtail my activities.”

“Correct on all counts,” he snapped.

“Now, Rolfe,” Lil said, holding her hand up to ward him off.

Her puny effort had no effect on him. He moved in on her, slamming his palms flat on the table on either side of her and thrusting his face a bare inch from hers. “This is one area that is not negotiable, Lillian. You will do as I say. You will take no chances with your health and that of our child. You will behave as a proper pregnant woman should.”

‘‘Being properly pregnant out west is a far cry from being properly pregnant in England.” Her try at levity failed.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I will define ‘proper’ for you. You will tend to only minor illnesses, beginning immediately. You will rest every afternoon for two hours. You will eat three meals a day, not grab a bite here or there as you run out the door. As your pregnancy advances you will stop treating patients altogether. You will remain at home and spend your time contently knitting for our baby.”

“I can’t knit.”

“You’ll learn.”

“And if I don’t agree—”

Rolfe placed his finger against her mouth, pressing it firmly shut. “You weren’t listening. This matter isn’t open for discussion or compromise. You will do as I say.”

Lil pulled free of his finger. “Doc will—”

“Agree with me on this one, Lillian,” he finished.

“This isn’t fair,” she said, reluctantly resigning herself to the inevitable, feeling quite certain her husband wouldn’t budge an inch on this issue.

Rolfe raised her chin with one finger. His eyes held hers with a look so warm and tender that Lil’s heart fluttered rapidly like hummingbird wings. ‘‘Did I tell you how happy it makes me to know you are carrying my child?”

Lil hesitated, unsure and afraid to speak. “I worried that you—”

He silenced her with a gentle kiss and brushed his words sensuously over her lips. “I can’t wait to watch you grow round and fill with the life we created together.”

His intimate words sent shivers rushing over her. “You mean—”

“Every word, Lillian. I want this baby.
Our
baby. I want to be beside you when you give birth, to share in the joy of our child’s first breath.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, one slipping free and running down her cheek. She had worried so over his reaction to the news of his impending fatherhood. She had envisioned him, in his stuffy English manner, explaining the social rules for motherhood and telling her how he expected her to behave.

But it wasn’t propriety that concerned him.
She
concerned him. Her health and that of the baby were of utmost importance to him. She realized he was acting like a husband who loved his wife, not like a man trapped in an arranged marriage.

Rolfe caught the traveling tear with his thumb, wiping it away. “Don’t upset yourself. You’ve been through much today.”

Lil hooked her arms around her husband’s neck. “Let’s go home,” she whispered and kissed his lips, which were slightly parted and ever so inviting.

He allowed her to taste him, holding himself back patiently. He needed to feel her lips, vital with passion and warmth, caress him. He needed to know without a doubt that she was alive and safe here with him that her precious body still flowed with life and now with the life of their child.

“Take me home,” she urged again.

Rolfe splayed his hand across her flat belly. “Your kisses test my control. If I take you home now I will carry you straight to our bedroom. With your wound and your condition, I don’t know if that is wise.” His mind cautioned him to voice his fears; his body urged him to express a much deeper emotion.

Lil covered his hand with hers. “The baby is safely tucked away. We need not worry about disturbing our child for months. My wound is minor and has been properly attended to. My desire for you is completely another matter and needs the kind of attention that only you can provide.”

Rolfe kissed her rosy lips. “I’ll provide for you until my last breath is drawn from my lips.”

His words lingered in Lil’s mind long after she and Rolfe had returned home, long after they had made love until they were exhausted. And when morning dawned and Lil sat by the window watching the clear sky that held no sign of another snowfall, his tender words still tumbled around in her head and brought a tear to her eye.

The thought of life without Rolfe was unimaginable, which left her to draw only one conclusion: she loved him.

Lil was hurrying about the kitchen, softly humming a merry tune. Her apron, in bright green and red checks, declared the holiday season. She wore it every year when doing her Christmas baking. This year would be no different, except that she now resided in her own home and was expecting a child.

Her thoughts delighted her, and she hummed a livelier tune. She finished spreading the gingerbread cookies out on the table to cool. Reaching for the blue ceramic bowl, she skillfully mixed the batter for the molasses cookies.

“Madam, really,” Jonathan scolded entering the kitchen. “This is your rest period. I left you upstairs to nap, and here you are working.”

Ever since Jonathan had learned of the expected child, he’d been impossible. He wouldn’t even allow Lil to lift a glass. He did everything for her and he was driving her completely out of her mind.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t feel like resting. Besides, the Christmas baking needs to be done.”

“I will see to everything,” he instructed, reaching for the bowl she held in her hands.

Lil turned away from him and continued to stir. “I bake cookies every year. You and I even discussed and agreed upon the ones I would bake.”

“That was before I learned of your...” He paused a moment, cleared his throat as though searching for the correct choice of words, and then said, “Delicate condition.”

Lil laughed and set the bowl on the table. “There’s nothing delicate about my condition. I’m going to have a baby.”

Jonathan blushed and remained silent.

Lil continued. “Women have babies every day, some by themselves and others with the help of midwives or doctors. We American women are a sturdy lot, so don’t go worrying yourself.”

Jonathan bristled as though she had struck a nerve. “That may be so for other women. You, Lady Sherborn, will have proper care and a doctor to attend you at delivery.”

She couldn’t admonish the man for his snobbery. He cared about people and had proven it time and again, but he would continue to place the noble Lord Sherborn, and now her, above others. He couldn’t help it. It was a trait so deeply embedded that years in the West wouldn’t vanquish it.

“I will not tire myself, Jonathan,” she said, deciding that arguing with him would be pointless. Between Jonathan and Rolfe, she didn’t stand a chance. And lest she forget Doc,

Rolfe had spoken to him as well. Everywhere she turned she was being told to take care of herself, to rest, to eat properly. Even her father and Holly had issued their own lectures.

It had been only three days since everyone had learned of the expected baby, but it seemed like three months. How in heaven’s name would she survive the remaining months of her pregnancy without going crazy?

Jonathan tied a large white apron around his middle and picked up the tray of molasses cookies Lil had prepared for the cast-iron stove. “I will do the lifting and bending,” he instructed, delivering the tray to the hot oven.

Lil shook her head, expecting the usual joy of her holiday baking to fade with the ever watchful Jonathan close by. To her surprise and delight it didn’t. She quite enjoyed the time they spent together.

When the baking was done, he ushered Lil into the parlor and fussed over her until he had her seated with her feet up on the petit point footstool and had placed a knitted blanket over her legs. He produced a cup of tea and a book in no time, and his last word before leaving her was “Rest.”

The urgent summons for her came only thirty minutes later. Jonathan unsuccessfully attempted to block the path to the parlor, but Bibi was determined and pushed the annoying man aside.

“Susie’s sick” was all Bibi had to say when she entered the quiet room.

Lil was out of her seat in a flash, the blanket thrown to the floor and the book tossed aside. Jonathan disappeared, and Lil knew she had only minutes to escape before her husband appeared.

“What’s the problem?”

“Fever. She’s had it for a few days. Doc’s been busy, since you haven’t been seeing to the patients you used to, and he hasn’t had a chance to get to the saloon to look at her. Susie didn’t want us to disturb you now that you’re pregnant.”

“That was downright foolish of her,” Lil said. “If I had seen her sooner, she’d have had a better chance to recover.”

“I told her that, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Stubborn woman,” Lil said.

“Talking about yourself, dear wife?” Rolfe asked, striding into the room and stopping just inside the door. He stood, his hands firmly hugging his waist, blocking the only exit Bibi looked from Lil to Rolfe, her eyes widening in awe when they settled on Lord Sherborn.

Lil had to admit he looked intimidating—his threatening stance, his black attire, except for his stark white shirt, his hair tied back, accenting his striking features. He looked like a man who wielded power, and Lil was impressed.

“Susie needs me,” she answered, thinking that a sufficient explanation.

When he spoke she immediately amended her opinion.

“You’re not going anyplace.”

“This isn’t open for discussion,” she said, using his own words on him.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” His sharp response made Bibi visibly tense.

“Susie needs me, and I’m going to her,” Lil said, with a look in her eyes that dared him to stop her.

“The doctor can treat her.”

“Not till tomorrow,” Bibi informed him. “He won’t even be back in town until then.”

“This can’t wait,” Lil said. “If that fever is allowed to continue, she might not stand a chance.”

Rolfe wanted to scream to the heavens that she bloody well wasn’t going anywhere. But he knew she’d never forgive him if he prevented her from going and Susie died.

“Sir,” Jonathan said from behind him, “I could accompany Lady Sherborn and do all the work, with her instructing me.”

“We’d all help,” Bibi joined in.

Rolfe considered it for a moment, then ordered, “Madam, you will be cautious.”

“Of course, Rolfe,” she said and smiled, not snidely but appreciatively. Her eyes glowed with a joy he hadn’t seen in days, and he realized that curtailing her work would be next to impossible.

A flurry of activity followed, and ten minutes later Rolfe, Lil, Bibi, and Jonathan took off in the buggy for the saloon.

Lil hadn’t expected Susie’s condition to be as serious as it was. She burned like a raging inferno. Sweat ran from her every pore, and her speech was incoherent. Lil feared the girls had waited too long to summon her.

Rolfe once again waited off to one side, out of the way.

Jonathan, on the other hand, stripped off his coat, tie, and vest, rolled up his sleeves, and went straight to work.

“Towels, water, linens, and be quick about it,” he ordered.

Lil listened to Susie’s chest, not liking what she heard. Congestion wasn’t easy to clear up. “We need to make an onion poultice.”

She issued precise instructions to Bibi, and the girl hurried off to the kitchen to prepare the poultice.

“We need to strip her and sponge her down. The fever is dangerously high,” Lil said as she leaned over Susie, reaching for the ties on her nightgown.

“No,” Rolfe said, his voice strong and crazily soothing to Lil’s ears. “You’ll not do any lifting or straining. I’ll help Jonathan.” He immediately slipped out of his coat, rolled up his sleeves, eased her out of the way, and ever so gently assisted Jonathan in removing Susie’s clothes.

Jonathan then took charge while Rolfe ran errands to the kitchen. The manservant sponged Susie down with smooth even strokes, making certain he covered every inch of her feverish flesh.

Susie opened her eyes occasionally, and Jonathan talked softly and reassuringly to her while Lil carefully applied the onion poultice to Susie’s chest. The room filled with its obnoxious odor, but no one noticed or seemed to mind.

As the night stretched on, Rolfe made sure that Lil rested from time to time, and Jonathan continued to care for Susie.

Morning brought with it Christmas Eve and a light snowfall. Lil slept peacefully in a nearby chair, a blanket covering her. Jonathan and Rolfe continued their vigil over Susie, who was now resting comfortably, her fever lower but not completely gone.