WolfeLord by Kathryn Le Veque

CHAPTER SEVEN

Carlisle Castle

He had to wait until everyone was out of the keep.

At least, he had to wait until Adria was out. Atticus didn’t matter so much and, of course, he had to make sure Will was far away.

At the moment, it was a perfect storm of those factors.

He’d been watching the keep under the guise of supervising the sentries on the wall walk, which was his usual task, but he’d been watching the keep closely. The truth was that very few people went into the keep who were not invited, or part of the family, or servants because the keep only housed Will, Lily, Adria, and Atticus, so it wasn’t a busy place. Not even the smaller great hall was much used. The bustle and business at Carlisle took place in the larger great hall, the outbuildings, and mostly in the outer bailey and gatehouse, so the keep, oddly enough, was a quiet place.

But that was a good thing where he was concerned.

He’d been speaking to a new soldier on the wall, a young man who had just come in from the country to pledge his oath in exchange for food, training, and a roof over his head when he saw Adria and Atticus come out of the keep.

That had his attention.

He already knew that Will was in the stable this morning with a new Belgian charger that was having trouble with its hooves and with Adria and Atticus leaving the keep, although Atticus was running away screaming as Adria chased him, he knew that Lily would be alone.

Quickly, he came off the wall and headed towards the keep.

No one was paying any attention to him. No one ever did; that was the beauty of it. A knight in the service of Will, a bold and brave man who was in the chain of command and no one would pay any attention to him anywhere in the castle. Seeing him cross the bailey was completely normal. Seeing him go into the inner bailey was also completely natural. Even seeing him enter the keep was natural.

He knew no one would question him.

They never had.

The keep, as he’d known, was empty. He didn’t even see a servant. It was dark, mostly, as he bolted up the stairwell that was next to Will’s solar. The stairs were wide and shallow, easy to navigate, as he made his way to the chamber on the upper floor. There was a small landing and a door, and he knew the door would be unlocked.

Quietly, he rapped on the panel before opening it.

The lavish chamber spread out before him.

“Lily?” he said softly.

He saw something stir on the bed. Lily’s head suddenly lifted, her eyes wide when she saw who it was.

“Marcellus,” she breathed. “I was wondering when you would come. Where is Will?”

Marcellus came into the chamber, over to the bed where she was struggling to sit up. “In the stable,” he said softly, reaching out to pull her into a sitting position. “Adria is chasing Atticus all over the outer ward and I do not expect to see her any time soon. For the moment, we are alone.”

Lily looked up at him, those words sinking in. This was the time she lived for, the moments when it was just the two of them.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Marcellus,” she whispered, crumbling. “Something awful has happened.”

Marcellus put his arms around her as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her close. He knew exactly what she meant. He’d had his time to weep, and he had done so copiously. Now wasn’t the time to put his weakness on display. That wasn’t his right.

He had to be strong for Lily.

“I know,” he said, holding her tightly. “Will told me.”

She sniffled. “What did he tell you?”

“Only that there was a fatal issue.”

“But no more?”

“Nay. Tell me what is happening.”

Lily wept softly. “You know that I fell in the mud last month,” she said. “I’ve been having pain and… blood. I’ve not felt normal in the least, although I’ve told Will that I did. I’ve told everyone that I did, but the truth was that I did not. I’ve been feeling terrible but unwilling to let anyone know. I hoped it would simply go away. But Will had Tarraby examine me and he has told me that my fall caused the nourishment sack that attaches the child to the womb to pull away. With the nourishment being cut off, the child is slowly dying and I am dying right along with him. There is nothing to be done.”

Marcellus drew in a long, steadying breath. Things made more sense but his devastation was magnified. Now that he knew the truth, he was struggling desperately to remain composed.

It was worse than he could have ever imagined.

“That cannot be possible,” he said quietly. “I do not believe you cannot be helped.”

She wiped at her face. “Our choices are morbid,” she said. “There is a possibility of saving the child if Tarraby cuts into me and takes him by force, but I will most certainly perish. Or, we can do nothing and the child will die a slow death and I along with him. Birth will not save him or me.”

“But we cannot know that for certain – can we?”

“The only way to find out if Tarraby is right is to let the situation end naturally when I give birth,” Lily said. “If I wait that long to see if he was correct in his diagnosis, it will be too late for me and too late for the child. I do not want to lose your child, Marcellus. I will sacrifice my life gladly if it will save him.”

Those words hung in the air between them as the truth was spoken.

I do not want to lose your child.

Marcellus sighed faintly.

“’Tis a brutal, cold choice,” he said. “Is Tarraby very sure this is the case?”

“Will seems to think so. He believes him. Do you?”

Marcellus grunted. “Tarraby is the most skilled physic I have ever seen,” he said. “I suppose I do not doubt him, but this is something… I simply cannot believe it.”

Because he was calm, Lily was calming, but she was still holding him with a death grip. “I do not wish to believe it, either,” she said. “I do not want to die, but I do not want our son to die.”

She was wiping the tears from her face with one hand as he gave her a squeeze, kissing the top of her head. He lay his cheek against her head.

“God, what a mess,” he muttered. “A horrible, shocking mess.”

“I know.”

He fell silent, pondering fate and karma and God as having a hand in all of this. Surely they were being judged somehow, judged for the sin they had committed. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy.

“Mayhap this is punishment for our sins,” he murmured. “The sin of loving a woman who is another man’s wife. The sin of already having a child together and now, a second child. God can forgive one child, mayhap, but not two. Mayhap this is our punishment.”

Lily closed her eyes, snuggling against him, drawing strength from the regular thump, thump of his heartbeat in her ear.

“I would like to believe that God is a merciful God,” she whispered. “I would like to believe He is an understanding God. He understands that I was forced into marriage with Will because of my father. He understands that I have loved you since nearly the day I met you at Lioncross Abbey those years ago. He understands that we have a love that has never been broken.”

“It is still a sin.”

“But God created love, Marcellus,” she insisted. “You were the man I should have married, but my father would not hear of it. A de Wolfe husband was far better than a mere knight, no matter how I felt about it. No matter how much you begged him for my hand.”

Marcellus thought of those days when he’d spent several evenings on his knees in Chris de Lohr’s solar, begging the man to permit him to marry his daughter. It had been a horrible, emotional time for him. Chris hadn’t been unsympathetic, but he’d wanted a better husband for his only daughter. A de Wolfe husband, a man who could provide her with wealth and prestige.

It had been one of the more horrific times in Marcellus’ life.

“He would not be swayed,” he said softly. “My humble but noble birth could not compare to a de Wolfe. I understand that, but it took… time. I’m surprised he never told Will about me, though. I suppose he thought it would cause trouble in the knightly ranks.”

“I know,” Lily said softly. “It wasn’t as if you made your quest for me obvious, either. You were very discreet.”

“Out of respect for you and your family,” he said. “There’s nothing worse than a knight openly drooling over his liege’s daughter. I’ve seen that happen before and it’s disgraceful.”

A smile flickered on Lily’s lips. “You never did that,” she said. “You were always quite mannerly. It only made me love you more.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “It seems so long ago now,” he said. “Those days at Lioncross before you married Will. But I never stopped loving you, not ever. Your father must have never guessed because he sent me north with Will when he took command of Carlisle.”

“You and Will were friends,” she said simply. “All of these years, you have been friends, but somehow, I wonder if my father knew you still loved me and that I loved you. Although I am glad you came north with us, if he suspected our feelings for one another had never died, I should think that he would have sent you to the far reaches of the earth.”

Marcellus leaned back against the bed post, Lily still gathered up against his torso. “All I can say is that I am grateful he did not.”

Lily didn’t say anything for a moment, relishing the feel of him against her. “As am I,” she said. “But Will still has not realized the situation between you and I after all of these years. It is true that our marriage is simply a polite association, so mayhap he does know and he simply doesn’t care, but I do not think so. Mayhap he just chooses not to see it.”

“We have been very careful,” Marcellus said. “Unfortunately, Atticus is starting to look more and more like me, so there may come a time when suspicions will be raised. And now with this child, I fear it will only be a matter of time before Will figures out the truth for himself.”

Lily put a hand on her belly, rubbing at it as Marcellus put his big hand over hers, feeling the life they had created together, a child who would bear the name of another man, another family.

Marcellus had long gotten over the bitterness of it.

As the man in the wrong, he couldn’t afford to be bitter.

“If he has not realized it by now, then it’s possible he never will,” she murmured. “We have covered our movements well. When I realized that I was pregnant with Atticus, I made sure that Will did his husbandly duty as to make him believe the child was his. I did the same thing with this child. He will not bed me unless I ask him to, you know. Otherwise, he stays well clear.”

“You have told me that,” he said. “I still find that odd. He does not assert himself?”

“Nay,” Lily said, shaking her head. “He has not in years. He views it as a duty, as do I, but I will admit that I have felt guilty letting him believe that Atticus and this child are his, but it would be worse if he knew they were not.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the man’s pride should be left intact,” she said. “He did not ask for this union anymore than I did, but when I realized I was pregnant and asked him to share my bed… in a sense, I am protecting the de Wolfe reputation. I know it sounds so very strange to say that, but it is true.”

Marcellus squeezed her gently. “It does not sound strange,” he said. “You cannot help that you love another man, but to protect Will the way you have is noble, Lil. You may love me, but you do not want him publicly shamed.”

She sighed heavily. “I do not,” she said. “I never did. He is a good man. He does not deserve to be shamed, but I cannot help that I do not love him. We are simply making the best of a bad situation.”

Marcellus knew that. He never once looked at Will with jealousy or scorn. In fact, quite the opposite. He respected Will tremendously, but he was in a difficult situation just as they all were. The only thing he and Lily were guilty of was dishonesty, only because telling the truth wouldn’t solve the problem. It would only make it worse and there was a large part of them that didn’t want to hurt Will in a situation of Chris de Lohr’s making.

It wasn’t as if they could do anything about it.

“If this child is born looking just like me, I fear we may find ourselves in a bind,” he said after a moment. “We may not wish to shame Will, but we would be insulting him if he figures out that something is going on between us and we do not tell him everything.”

“Mayhap,” Lily said slowly. But her thoughts were shifting from Will back to the situation at hand as she felt the need to flesh it out further. “Marcellus, now that you know what Tarraby has said, what are your feelings on the matter? It feels so strange to speak of this so calmly, but I cannot help it. It is something we must face and mayhap a large part of me is still in shock, still thinking that Tarraby is mistaken. But if he is not… what do you want me to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you want me to try and save the child?”

Marcellus was starting to tense up again. They were speaking of Lily’s life now, and the life of his child. He’d come into the chamber shaken, had calmed somewhat with the ensuing conversation, and now he was feeling shaken all over again. He still couldn’t believe they were speaking of life and death – Lily’s. Her pregnancies were always easy and she delivered quickly, so this complication was a definitive shock.

By all convention, he had no rights in this matter.

But she was asking him just the same.

“What does Will say?” he asked quietly.

Feeling weak and exhausted, Lily was boneless against him. “I will tell you what I told him,” she said. “I can feel this child moving in my belly daily. To know he is slowly dying is more horrifying than you can imagine. As his mother, I cannot stand by and do nothing. If I must sacrifice my life to save him, I will do so gladly. Not because I am some great martyr, but because I want my child to live.”

He looked down at her, pain in his eyes. After a moment, he closed them and looked away. “Is this really happening?” he muttered. “Are we really having this conversation?”

Lily could hear the anguish in his voice, the pain of a man unable to do anything for the woman he loved. She craned her neck back, gazing up at him.

“Let me be clear,” she whispered, the tears starting to form. “I do not want to leave you. I had always hoped… hoped we would be with each other into old age, but it would seem that God has other plans for me. Tarraby believes there is no hope for me no matter what, so if I agree to let him remove the child early, at least the child will have a chance at life. It gives me no great pleasure to know that his life will mean my demise, but I cannot stand the thought of him not being able to live his life. It does not seem fair.”

She was being so calm about it except for the tears glistening in her eyes. That told him how brave she was being. Her tears triggered his and, soon, his eyes were filling with tears also.

“It is not fair,” he said hoarsely. “And it is my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I planted my seed in you. Had I not done that, we would not be facing this moment.”

Lily pushed herself up and looked at him. “I forbid you to feel guilty for this,” she said sternly. “As I recall, I was a willing participant, so this is not your fault.”

Marcellus was trying, but not quite succeeding. He forced a smile at her, reaching out to cup her face in his big hand. For a moment, he simply stared at her, drinking in every feature, ever line.

It was agony.

“My sweet Lily,” he whispered, lower lip trembling. “What am I going to do without you?”

Lily was starting to crumble because he was, but she fought it. “Then you want me to save the child? I want to do it sooner rather than later. Time is slipping away and every day that I delay is a day that his life slips from him.”

She was trying so hard to sound logical about a situation where there was no logic. Only feeling. She was trying to be reasonable and unselfish, as if this were happening to someone else and not her. It was the only way she could get through it, something no woman should ever have to face. Marcellus understood that but it was still difficult to hear.

“I want you to do what you feel is best,” he said hoarsely. “This is your life and no one else’s.”

Lily looked at him, knowing that Will’s response would probably be the same thing. He would leave it up to her.

She already knew what she had to do.

“Then it is settled,” she said tightly. She looked at him, drinking him in, studying every line to remember when she was in heaven and lonely for him. “But you… I want you to be happy, my love. I want you to marry a good woman and have many children. That is my wish for you, Marcellus. Please do not disappoint me.”

He shook his head and looked at his lap. “I cannot even think on it,” he said. “Do not force me to think about it, because I will not. But you must think of Will, for he is worse off than I am. You will be leaving him with children to tend to and no mother. He will be a wealthy widower and quite a prize for some unscrupulous woman.”

Lily held her hand against his cheek, turning to kiss his palm. “Even at this moment, you are concerned for Will,” she said. “That is sweet.”

“Aren’t you?”

She nodded. “I suppose I am,” she said. “I have not thought on it, but now that you speak of it, I suppose I am. He needs a good woman who will not do to him what I have done.”

Marcellus sighed faintly, hearing the same moral dilemma from her lips that they’d wrestled with for years. The truth was that their love for each other was stronger than their guilt. Love, in this case, was everything.

“You cannot fault yourself for listening to your heart,” he said. “If you did not, you would be relegating yourself to a miserable life.”

She sighed and pulled his hand away from her face. “That does not excuse what we have done to him,” she said. “It makes us selfish because we have only thought of each other. We have done what our hearts dictated. Will is the only innocent here because he is caught up in it.”

“As I said, you should be concerned for him. Mayhap… mayhap it will be your gift to him.”

“What gift?”

“Would you not want to make sure he ends up with a good woman? And that your children have a kind and generous woman to take your place?”

“Of course I do,” Lily said. “I would want him to be with a woman who will love him and love my children, but where would I find one? It’s not so much the older children I worry about, but Atticus. She would need to tolerate Atticus’ wildness and… wait.”

“What is it?”

“I think I might have an idea.”

“What idea?”

“Mam!”

They could both hear the shout from Atticus rushing up the stairwell. Thank God he had screamed because Marcellus was able to leap up off the bed and hide behind a dressing screen as Atticus rushed in with Adria on his heels. As Marcellus watched through the slats in the screen, he saw Adria come up behind Atticus as he tried to tell his mother how terrible Bradford had been to him. Marcellus should have thought something was amiss when Adria looked right at the screen, right at him.

He could see her through the slats.

He was fairly certain that she could see him, too.

*

She had forgottenhis little cap.

Atticus had a little woolen cap that Lily insisted on dressing him in when the mornings were cold and breath hung in the air, just as it was now. She’d come out of the keep with the boy on the loose, rushing off to find Bradford and food, in that order, but by the time she entered the kitchen yard, she realized she’d left the cap and Atticus’ little face was pinched red.

He needed an extra layer of warmth.

Leaving Atticus with the cook, who distracted the boy with oat porridge and honey, Adria rushed out of the kitchen yard. As she came through the gate, she saw several soldiers milling around the inner gatehouse, including Marcellus. She didn’t think anything of it because Marcellus was the commander of the walls and gatehouses during the day, so his presence was perfectly routine. She could also see Hermes and Ronan over near the outer gatehouse, putting some new recruits through their paces. She could hear Hermes bellowing at them.

Quickly, she ducked into the inner gatehouse before either knight could see her and headed straight to the keep.

The interior of the keep was cool and dark at this early hour. There had been servants sweeping out the ashes of the hearth in Will’s solar, but they were gone now. She began to take the stairs quickly to the floor above where Lily’s chamber was, but as she neared the open chamber door, she thought she heard voices.

At first, she thought it was Will. Somehow, the man had slipped past her, but as she came closer, she realized that it wasn’t Will.

It was Marcellus.

Curious, she thought that Marcellus might have business with Lily and she didn’t want to interrupt. She had just seen him going through the gatehouse, so he must have only just arrived in the great chamber to speak to Lily. Adria was about take the top step and knock on the open door when she heard Lily’s voice.

I do not want to lose your child.

That brought her pause. Confused, she wasn’t quite sure why she would be hearing such a thing. She stood on the second step from the top, baffled as she listened to a conversation she could have never imagined in a million years. As Lily and Marcellus spoke to one another and evidently wept with one another, it was becoming increasingly clear to Adria that all was not as it seemed with the two of them.

Something shocking was in the air.

Aghast, Adria leaned back against the wall as she heard Lily speak of so many things she’d never heard before – being forced into marriage with Will but of loving, of all people. Marcellus.

She was astonished.

Morbid curiosity had her frozen in place, listening to an intimately detailed conversation. Shocking, horrific, and deplorable. Absolutely deplorable. She’d gone from confused to astonished to outraged very quickly, but in the course of the conversation, she also learned that something was amiss with Lily’s pregnancy, something that Tarraby had diagnosed.

Something terrible.

Lily was speaking of sacrificing her life for her child’s. Marcellus spoke of Atticus growing to look much like him. There was so much going on that Adria was having a difficult time grasping such a staggering, private conversation. She knew she shouldn’t be listening, but she simply couldn’t help herself. It became readily apparent, from what she was hearing, that Lily and Marcellus had been carrying on for quite some time and that Atticus and the child Lily carried were not Will’s, but Marcellus’.

She was so stunned that a gentle breeze could have blown her over.

When things began to come clear, self-preservation told her to leave the stairwell, to get out of there. She didn’t want Marcellus or Lily discovering that she had eavesdropped, but she didn’t feel guilty about it. She wasn’t sure what she felt, but guilt wasn’t part of it. She’d known Lily and Marcellus for years and she adored Lily like a sister, but she’d never had a clue that all of this was going on. Not one little clue.

Perhaps the greatest thing she felt, at the moment, was disappointment.

And pity for Will, who was apparently as oblivious as she was.

Making her way down the stairs, she was dazed as she headed for the keep entry. Her mind was on the conversation, unable to shake it, not even realizing that she didn’t have what she’d come for.

The little hat.

It was still sitting in Lily’s chamber where she’d left it.

Just as she set foot outside of the keep, Atticus came running in her direction and she found herself staring at the child, seeing Marcellus now that she knew who the lad’s father was. She was so caught up in her observations that she was too slow to grab him as he ran by her.

After a moment’s hesitation, she went in pursuit.

It seemed that all she did was chase Atticus. She ran up the stairs behind him, telling him to slow down, but he was shouting for his mother. He burst into the chamber, rushing for her bed as Adria came in behind him, looking around the chamber and seeing that Marcellus was nowhere to be found. Given that there was a privacy screen in the chamber, painted with a scene of mermaids and the ocean, she found herself looking right at it, suspecting that’s where he was.

The cold burn of disapproval, of disgust, smoldered deep in her belly.

“He got past me, my lady,” she said as evenly as she could. “I was only coming for his little cap. It is a chilly morning.”

Lily smiled at her boy, running a hand over his head as he insisted that Bradford must be punished. “It is all right,” she said. By this time, Adria had collected the cap and she held her hand out, taking it from Adria and pulling it down over Atticus’ head. “Now, go outside and find your father. I wish to speak to Adria.”

Atticus was not happy with that directive. “But Bradford is…!”

“Leave him alone,” Lily said, giving him a shake. “You are like a dog with a bone when it comes to Bradford. All you want to do is chew him down, but you will leave him alone. Do you hear me? If you harass him, I will see that you are punished.”

She was holding up a stern finger in his face and Atticus frowned, but he didn’t argue. He knew better than to do that when it came to his mother. After a reluctant shrug, which Lily took for an affirmative, she chased him out of the chamber. As he was heading down the steps, Lily turned her attention to Adria.

The woman had moved away from the bed, now over near the wardrobe pulling forth some garments that were hanging on the pegs. She seemed distracted, like she was finding something to do, for she certainly didn’t need to be fussing with Lily’s wardrobe right now. In fact, she’d seemed a little distant since she’d entered the chamber.

“Adria,” Lily said. “Come here, please. I must speak with you.”

Adria sighed faintly, setting aside the silk dress she’d been inspecting, and went over to the bed. There was a chair against the privacy screen and she resisted the urge to give the screen a shove, toppling the screen onto Marcellus, whom she knew to still be there. Whatever Lily was going to say, he was going to hear it.

Frustrated and gloomy, Adria pulled the chair up to the bed.

“Aye, my lady?” she asked politely. “How can I be of service?”

Lily couldn’t help but notice that Adria wouldn’t look at her. “What is the matter?” she asked. “You seem upset.”

Adria was indeed having trouble looking at her after what she’d just heard, but she lifted her gaze and looked at her. “Forgive me,” she said. “I… I suppose it has already been a trying morning with Atticus.”

Lily smiled faintly. “Don’t tell me that you are going off of my son.”

Adria shook her head. “Never,” she said. “But I will admit, he can be exhausting at times. He is very full of life.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You are telling me something I know all too well,” she said. “That is why I am very glad you are tending to him now that I cannot. I know that Will asked you to tend to him and I am grateful.”

“He did, my lady.”

Lily hesitated. “Did he tell you about his conversation with Tarraby?”

Adria shook her head, but her gaze was guarded. As if she were wary, suspicious. “You mean the fact that he has examined you every day this week?” she said. “He did not speak of any conversation, my lady.”

Lily wasn’t quite sure why Adria was looking at her that way, but she didn’t let it stop her from doing as she must. She averted her gaze, looking at her hands for a moment as she decided what she wanted to say.

“As it happens, Tarraby has been examining me all week because Will asked him to,” she said.

“I assumed as much, my lady.”

“There was more to it than simple concern,” Lily went on. “There was a reason. As Will explained it to me, Tarraby was the apprentice to a great physic in his youth. This physic had a patient who had fallen from her horse when she neared the time to give birth and she exhibited the same symptoms that I have been having since my fall in the mud.”

Adria was a little less wary and a little more interested. “You mean the pains in your belly and back?”

Lily nodded. “The same,” she said. “And the blood. You know about that.”

“I do.”

Lily began wringing her hands a little. “The woman that fell from the horse had injured the child in her womb,” she said. “Adria, I know you have never birthed a child so you would not know this, but when a child is born, there is a sack that attaches the child to the womb. It is where the nourishment comes from, as part of the mother. The child cannot survive without it and if it is damaged, it puts both the child and the mother in grave danger.”

Now, Adria was starting to make sense out of the conversation she’d overheard between Lily and Marcellus. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Lily was trying to say.

“You injured this sack when you fell?” she asked.

Lily nodded slowly. “That is what Tarraby thinks,” she said. “He has seen it before, and Will trusts him, so we have no reason to think that he is wrong. All of my symptoms indicate this injury.”

“Then what will he do about it?”

Lily looked at her then. “There is nothing he can do about it,” she said. “My child is slowly dying because the nourishment sack has come away from the womb. It has also left a gaping wound inside of me and that is where the blood is coming from.”

Adria couldn’t help it; she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “What does it mean?”

Lily could see the tears welling in Adria’s eyes and she extended a hand to her. After a brief hesitation, Adria took it.

Lily squeezed her hand tightly.

“I am still coming to terms with this, so please be brave for me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Adria, I will not survive this birth. As difficult as it is for me to say it, Tarraby believes it to be true. The only way to save the child is to have him cut out of my belly, so I have decided to do that. It will hopefully save his life, but it will not save mine. I will not be saved if he is taken by force or if I naturally give birth to him. Either way, I will not survive, so I am making the choice for my child’s sake, to save him, and I must have your support. I must have your help.”

Adria was staring at her with big eyes but the tears were beginning to trickle. “It’s not possible,” she breathed. “Surely… surely something can be done?”

Lily shook her head. “It seems that there is nothing to be done,” she said, feeling pangs of grief even as she said it. “I suppose we could send for another physic, but he would take time to get here, precious time that could cost my babe his life. Do you see what I mean? If Tarraby is right, and Will believes he is, then there is no time at all. My son must be born soon if he has a chance of surviving.”

Adria blinked and the tears spattered, but she didn’t openly sob. All of the frustration and disappointment she felt at Lily and Marcellus had been pushed aside by painful grief for a woman she loved like a sister.

She was devastated.

“Oh, Lily,” she whispered. It was rare when she called Lily by her name. “I cannot believe this. It cannot be true.”

Lily squeezed her hand. “I wish it wasn’t,” she said. “I’ve wept over it, but not like I should because I feel such shock. As if none of this is real. It is almost as if I am watching someone else go through this, but then I remember it is me and I must make plans. I cannot leave this world without knowing my husband and children are taken care of.”

“And you are so calm about it!”

Lily sighed faintly. “I can either become hysterical, which will do no good, or I can focus on what needs to be done. I choose to focus. For now.”

Adria was struggling with her tears, struggling to stop weeping. “But what can I do to help?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do,” Adria insisted. “I will do whatever you wish, Lily. I will help however I can.”

Lily’s smile was genuine. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I want you to marry Will. I want you to become his wife.”

That stopped Adria’s tears in an instant. Her eyes widened and she bolted up from the chair, looking at Lily as if the woman had just grown a second head.

“What?” she gasped. “Me?”

Lily nodded calmly. “You are perfect,” she said. “You are from a good family and you need a husband. You love my son and my children know you and are fond of you. Will you not do this for me, Adria? It is the most important thing anyone could ever ask of you and I realize it is a great deal, but I beg you to consider it. Please.”

Adria’s mouth popped open and she gaped at her. So much shock that morning that she was unable to adequately handle. First the situation between Lily and Marcellus, then Lily’s health, and now this.

Lily wanted her to marry Will.

Adria couldn’t help it.

She fled.