Page 56 of Broken

Mrs. Osprey helped her dress. The blue muslin wasn’t as pretty as yesterday’s gown, but at least it wasn’t another nightgown confining her to the house.

“There, all finished.” Mrs. Osprey stepped back and eyed her handiwork. Turning her head this way and that, Lilly admired the pretty arrangement of her hair against the darker-toned gown. The contrast was striking. Mrs. Osprey had real talent.

“Thank you, Mrs. Osprey. You’ve spoiled me for my normal life.”

The housekeeper grinned. “Nonsense, my lamb, anyone who can make his lordship smile as you do deserves so much more than this.”

Blushing, Lilly grasped for a safer topic. “I did not think I would require clean linens as yet. I don’t wish to burden the servants with unnecessary tasks. Surely they could have waited another day.”

Mrs. Osprey frowned. “Ordinarily they could have, but the sheets are best dealt with directly. Now that we know your timing, we’ll be better prepared for next month if you’re still here then. Perhaps you should rest indoors today. The earl’s mamma was always lying about at this time. Can’t say I blame her for taking the opportunity. Some women do take it harder than others, and Lady Daventry was a delicate sort like you, if you can remember.”

Lilly did not understand why Mrs. Osprey thought she was any frailer today than yesterday or the day before that. She could admit that her long illness gave other people the impression that she was weak, but she knew herself to be improving a little more each day.

“I remember Lady Daventry. She was kind but frail, wasn’t she?” Lilly had always assumed that a strong wind could blow her over if she ever ventured out of doors, but she didn’t wish to speak ill of the dead.

“That she was, and a sweeter, kinder mistress you could never hope to find. You remind me of her.”

Lilly couldn’t hold back a smile. It was a greater compliment than Mrs. Osprey could know. “Mrs. Osprey, I wonder if you could tell me. When did Lady Daventry die? I don’t think I ever heard of it, and I am hesitant to ask the earl for fear of upsetting him.”

Mrs. Osprey frowned. “That’s probably for the best. Her death hit him hard. It was after your accident, but less than a year after her husband passed. Lord Daventry, the elder, took a fall from his horse and died a week or so later from a nasty infection. Perhaps two years after your accident.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that either.”

“The mistress did not take his death well, and one way or another managed to follow him not long after. The children were devastated. His lordship tried so hard to cheer his mother, but she slipped away from him.” Mrs. Osprey tucked a stray wisp of Lilly’s hair behind her ear. “’Tis why the master banned laudanum from the manor. He thinks she doctored herself to death. I expect that’s why he’s so concerned about you. You are both fragile women.”

Mrs. Osprey bobbed her head and hurried off with the linens, leaving Lilly with her heart pounding. Mrs. Osprey’s news explained quite a bit about Giles’ behavior.

Thirty minutes later, Lilly shook and huddled on the corner of the chaise. She had just used the chamber pot, and found to her shock that she was bleeding.

Lilly was frightened. Terrified. If this was what happened after the pleasure of Giles’ touch, she was appalled. She had no idea that the pleasures of the body could result in such an injury. Would she die now that she had finally managed to thwart all the nasty voices and begun to live again?

Lilly just did not know how long it would take, so she curled up on her side and prayed. She prayed to die quickly this time.

* * *

“So this is where you hide each summer.”

Giles looked up and found Lord Carrington hovering at his door. Giles tossed his cravat at his valet and crossed the room. “Carrington, when the devil did you get here? I didn’t hear the carriage.” He pulled the younger man into a rough hug.

“I rode here this morning from the village. My carriage broke down late last night, so I foolishly thought to borrow a nag from the innkeeper rather than wait.”

“Good God, I fear I know the one you were loaned and I’m now doubly surprised to see you. Have you no sense?”

“Apparently not.”

Giles turned back to his valet and let the man fuss with his attire. “Glad to see you survived. That horse, if it’s the one I fear, has thrown more able horsemen inside a mile of the village than I can count.”

“That does explain why the innkeeper didn’t seem too concerned about when the beast would return. He said he’d be seeing it soon. The foolish thing shied at every startled bird or rabbit.” Carrington leaned against the wall. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Quite all right. I’m happy to offer a brief reprieve from your family. I’m sure your mother’s been watching every wedding for the last few years and taking notes.”

“Too true, too true. She has a book.” Carrington blew out a harsh breath. “Why the hell did I decide to marry?”

Giles held the younger man’s gaze, surprised he’d uttered the question Giles had been trying to keep from asking for the past few months. “From what I understand, you had little enough choice but to do so or risk the loss of your honor.”

Carrington scrubbed his hand through his hair. When he started pacing, the usual sign the viscount was disturbed, Giles decided not to pursue the discussion. Talking wouldn’t help. “I was about to go down for breakfast. Have you eaten?”

Carrington stopped. “No.” He turned and met Giles’ gaze. “You know, I’m surprised you’re not possessed of a fuller figure. Is your answer for every crisis eating?”