Something Old, Rebecca Connolly [ebook reader for laptop TXT] 📗

She managed to shake her head, though she did begin to feel a little faint.

“I think it is just the shock, Mr. Morgan,” Julia said, patting Lily’s hand and taking her in a more secure hold. “Perhaps we should continue our tour of the house another time, and I should see her settled.”

“Yes, that seems best.” He nodded quickly, bowing. “If you’re sure you have no need of me, I shall return to my office and come by another time.”

Julia bid him some sort of farewell that Lily couldn’t make out, their voices slurring together and getting lost in a rush of sound that filled her ears.

Thomas had arranged… Thomas had…

He had given her Pendrizzick. In every respect, he had made it hers. But why? Why would he do that? What did he mean by it? What did any of it mean?

She felt herself moving, being half dragged and half carried, before finding herself settled on a divan, propped up by pillows and a glass of Madeira thrust into her hand.

“Drink that entire glass now. Don’t gulp it, but get it down.”

Lily obeyed, emptying the glass shortly and holding it out.

It was plucked away, and another glass replaced it, this time filled with something clear.

“Water. Drink the whole glass, don’t gulp it.”

Again, Lily did so, and the rush of sound in her ears faded, as did her dizziness, and, though she was recumbent, she could once again feel her kneecaps.

There was a relief.

The glass was pulled away, and then another glass of Madeira was set in her hand. “There. Sip that at your leisure.”

Lily blinked and looked at the chair beside her where Julia sat, leaning forward, hands clasped, expression concerned but certain. “I am sorry you have turned nursemaid, Julia. I don’t know what came over me.”

Julia snorted very softly. “You’ve just discovered that you own a house and are its mistress without reference to anyone else, including your husband. I’d need a glass of Madeira myself under the circumstances. You did go rather pale very suddenly, and it was all I could do not to shove poor Mr. Morgan out of the house before you would completely swoon.”

“I never swoon.” Lily sat up as best as she could, putting a hand to her clammy cheek. “Not even when surprised.”

“There could be a very simple explanation there. And a very particular condition.”

Lily froze, glancing over at her friend with wide eyes. “Could there?”

Julia smirked a little. “If so, you’ll soon know it.” She gently rubbed her palms together, smirk fading. “Why would your husband put Pendrizzick in your name, I wonder?”

“I don’t know,” Lily murmured, relieved to move on from what they were certainly not discussing. She sipped her Madeira, shaking her head. “If anything, I would think Rainford a more likely property to name as mine. It neighbors my late cousin’s home, and I am close with her children.”

“Does it hold great meaning to you?” Julia queried, her copper braid falling over her shoulder and swaying a little.

No, it did not. Its proximity to Monty, his and Caroline’s children, and to Beth was what made the place special, but the house itself had no special value or meaning.

Not like Pendrizzick.

“Does this mean he loves me?” Lily whispered to no one in particular. “Or does this mean he will let me go?”

“I do not know your husband well,” Julia admitted easily, bringing Lily’s attention back to her. “But I believe I can tell you this: your husband is not the sort to let you go. The first night I met him, all he wanted to do was watch you from the other end of the dining table. His feelings for you, whatever they are, are deep and lasting. That is not something easily tossed aside. If I may… I would advise that you not look for something to fear in this gesture but for something to treasure.”

Lily swallowed a sudden lump of emotion. “You think I have cause?”

Julia’s smile was bright and warm. “Dear Lily, the last gift my husband gave me was a set of earbobs, and he said it was because they made him think of me. Your husband gave you a house. If the man I saw staring at you with such longing is the man who gave you this house…” She trailed off, shrugging her slender shoulders and letting the sentence go unfinished.

Lily did not need it to be finished. She knew the truth of it, and the beauty as well.

Thomas loved her. That was the beginning and end of it. He loved her, and he had purchased Pendrizzick for them but given it to her. Because he loved her.

Pendrizzick meant the end of the brambles. Could it be so in a less literal sense? Could it mean the end of the brambles in their marriage? Could it become their beautiful haven and respite from all else that surrounded them and bring them back to the simple beauty of the love they shared?

Lily closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the divan, her longing for her husband suddenly overwhelming.

She needed him to find his way back to her, and she needed it to be soon.

Cornwall was more awe-inspiring than he remembered, more refreshing than he had thought, and more satisfying than he had ever imagined it. And he was still a good way from Pendrizzick.

Thomas rolled his thumbs one over the other as they sat upon laced fingers, rocking to and fro a little in the carriage as it rumbled over the land. No matter how he felt about the journey from Cornwall to London, though reluctantly taken, this journey on the return, knowing what lay ahead, was worse.

He had no idea how Lily would receive him when he arrived. If she would be emotional or the reverse. If she would be delighted or fearful. If she would welcome him or merely accept him.

The departure she had taken from London had given him hope, but