“I can’t help it,” she said. “I’m so happy.”
He smiled gently and nodded. “So am I. More than you will ever know.”
And more than he’d ever dreamed possible, he realized, as he thrust into his wife one final time and experienced his own powerful, trembling release.
Lily and Whitby spent the first three days of their marriage in bed, but hardly because Whitby was weak or ill. He was, in fact, quite remarkably energetic when in a horizontal position, and he had even regained enough of an appetite to attend dinner each evening with James, Sophia, and Annabelle.
On the fourth day, after breakfast, he told Lily he wanted to go outside for a short walk, and she immediately called for his valet. A half hour later, they were wearing their coats, slowly making their way through the corridors and down the main staircase to the back door.
“Are you all right?” Lily asked, stopping with concern as soon as they stepped into the clear sunlight. The air was cool and crisp.
He held up a hand to shade his eyes. “It’s bright, that’s all. I suppose I’ve been indoors too long.”
She slipped her arm through his. “Come. You’ll get used to it.”
They slowly descended the steps on the other side of the flagstone veranda, and crossed the terraced garden to the pond, where they had to stop and rest. They sat down on the bench in the shade of the big oak tree.
They sat quietly, gazing at the water and the bright blue sky, breathing in the scent of the autumn leaves that were, at that very moment, falling to the ground all around them.
“Remember the last time you came and sat here with me?” Whitby said, taking Lily’s hand in his. “I was not kind to you.”
She gazed compassionately at him. “You were fine, Whitby.”
“No, I wasn’t. I wanted you to leave. I wanted to be left alone.”
“But you were ill.”
“No more than I am now. Less so, in fact.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I brought it up because I wanted to apologize to you. For that and for every other time in my life when I did not see you as the woman you are. I’ve been blind.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “It was barely more than a week ago, but it seems like a year.”
“Yes, because I’m not the man I was that day.”
They sat in silence listening to the leaves blowing in the breeze, watching a sparrow swoop down from the sky and fly low, close to the water’s surface. To Lily, it was like a dream—a perfect, perfect moment in time. “You’ve made me so happy, Whitby.”
Yet simmering beneath her unimaginably profound joy was a fear that would not fully relinquish its hold on her, for there was still a very real likelihood that this bliss would not last.
“And you, me,” he replied. “I never believed I would ever experience anything like this. It’s astounding.” He cradled her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes. “
Thank you
.”
While he touched his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly as the leaves blew past them, Lily managed to sweep her fears away. She did not want to spoil what she had now, here in the present.
“Jenson won’t be impressed with me,” he said, pulling away slightly.
“Why not?”
“He spent all that time getting me dressed, and now all I want to do is go back to bed.”
Lily sat back, her brow furrowing with concern. “Did we overdo it? Are you tired?”
Her husband grinned. “We definitely overdid it, but I’m not tired.”
He gave her a mischievous look, and she nodded her understanding while helping him to his feet.
* * *
On the fifth day, Lily woke naked in Whitby’s bed, and smiled contentedly as she finally began to believe that she had won Whitby’s heart— something she had never imagined she could ever do. They had spent every minute of every day together since their wedding, and had given their bodies to each other passionately and devotedly at night.
On top of that, he’d gained back some of his appetite and strength as well. Not only had they gone for a walk the day before, at dinner that night, he’d eaten some of almost every course.
He had not yet had the biopsy, however, nor had he seen the doctor all week, for he’d been determined to enjoy their brief honeymoon. But they both knew the time was drawing near. They could not avoid the truth forever.
Lily sat up in the big disheveled bed and hugged the covers to her chest. Wondering where her husband had gone so early, she looked at the clock and realized it was not so early after all. He must have left her to catch up on some sleep, as they certainly hadn’t slept much during the night.
She rose from bed and called for her maid, and a short time later, made her way to the breakfast room.
She walked in and was pleased to see Whitby sipping coffee not only with Sophia and Annabelle, but also with James. He and James had not spoken amicably since the wedding day, when James had found it necessary to shake Whitby’s hand. Over the past few days, however, her brother had appeared to be accepting the situation, and Lily hoped he would eventually grow to understand that their marriage had been the right decision.
Her handsome husband met her gaze just then, and gave her a look that was meant only for her—a knowing look, a look that told her he felt just as jubilant as she did this morning, and was recalling a few delightfully wicked things they had done the night before.
With a flirtatious little smile, Lily said good morning, served herself breakfast and took a seat beside Annabelle and across from Whitby.
“Have you all eaten?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sophia replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “Did you sleep well, Lily?”
Lily glanced at Whitby. “Yes, very well, thank you.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. What a cheeky devil he was. She grinned at him again and tried not to blush as she picked up her fork and began eating.
The conversation turned to what was in the newspaper James was reading, and they all enjoyed a leisurely time, lingering over their coffee. A moment later, the butler entered the room to announce that Dr. Trider had arrived.
Lily had not known he was coming.
Whitby stood.
“Is today the day?” she asked, setting down her coffee cup.
“Yes,” Whitby replied.
An unwelcome tension pulled through her as she stared panic-stricken up at her husband. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He gave her an apologetic smile. “I spoke to the doctor only last night, darling, and I didn’t want to spoil our evening.”
“I see. Well.” Despite her fears and anxieties, Lily resolved to be brave. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, and stood also. “Can I go with you?”
He moved to kiss her on the cheek. “It would be best if you remained here with the others. The doctor will tell you when it’s over. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Lily struggled to smile and appear confident. “Of course.”
She sat down again, though she couldn’t finish her coffee. She couldn’t imagine swallowing anything when dread and fear were filling her, for the doctor was going to slice her husband’s skin with a scalpel. She couldn’t bear to envision it.
Whitby hesitated a moment, gazing down at her one last time before he left the breakfast room.
“Let’s have a look at you before we get started,” Dr. Trider said cheerfully in Whitby’s bedchamber. “Have a seat.”
Whitby had been through this examination all too many times. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and untucked his shirt before he sat on the edge of the bed.
The doctor asked him how he’d been feeling over the past week.
“Better, in fact,” Whitby replied. “My appetite has returned somewhat, and Lady Whitby and I went for a walk yesterday. I can only attribute it to the benefits of marriage.” He grinned pleasantly up at the doctor.
Dr. Trider nodded his understanding and withdrew his stethoscope from his bag. He listened to Whitby’s chest, looking up at the ceiling as he did so. “Yes, yes, very good.”
He lowered the stethoscope and felt the glands at Whitby’s neck. He pressed everywhere, his brow furrowing with what looked like concern.
It was not the look one wanted to see upon the face of a physician while in the midst of an examination. Whitby’s pulse quickened slightly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
The doctor shook his head and took his time before he answered. He continued to press upon Whitby’s neck in various places. Finally he said, “Lie back, I want to check your spleen.”
Whitby reclined, and the doctor felt around his abdomen. He continued to wear that unsettling expression on his face, as if he were both confused and concerned.
Finally he stepped back, and Whitby sat up, waiting uneasily for the doctor to say something. Finally, his shoulders rose and fell with a deep intake of breath. “Your glands and spleen appear to be slightly improved.”
Whitby sat staring at the doctor, realizing he was now wearing a similar confused expression. “Could this mean I am getting better?”
Dr. Trider spoke frankly. “I cannot say. Periods of quiescence are not uncommon with Hodgkins, you see, where the glands diminish in size unexplainably.”
“So this could just be a temporary respite.”
“Yes.”
They both stared off into the distance for a moment or two, while Whitby tried to remember what had happened to his father in those final months. So far, everything Whitby had experienced was exactly like his father had experienced it. But had he ever had a respite?
“Will the biopsy tell us?” Whitby asked.
“It will at least confirm or rule out Hodgkins,” Dr. Trider replied.
Whitby considered this carefully, then met the doctor’s earnest gaze. “I would like to know for sure. Can you do it now? Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, my lord. I came equipped.”
“Then let’s get started.”
Whitby’s blood quickened slightly as he watched the doctor remove a number of razor-sharp instruments from his bag.
Lily and the others were relieved to learn from the doctor that there had been no unexpected problems during the surgery. It had gone as well as he could have expected, but he also informed them that they would have to wait a few days for the results.
All continued to go well while they waited. There were no post-operative infections, and though Whitby’s health did not improve a great deal, he did not suffer a relapse.
He wore a bandage on his neck, but it did not stop him from spending time with Lily and making the most of the hours they had together—both of them fully aware that they were enjoying a blissful state of ignorance. They did not yet know the results of the procedure, so as far as they were concerned, there was no point worrying. They talked of other things, including the future, which helped to keep Whitby’s mind off the reality of his life.