The Perfect Arrangement (The Not So Saintly Sisters #4) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,37
questions, Lillian. Marriage is for life and ought to be entered into—”
“He is dying! Mother! He is ill!” Lillian interjected in hopes that her mother’s kinder nature might make itself known. Even if she didn’t know all the details, perhaps she would be more understanding if she understood that their time was limited.
Christian turned to stare at her. “What?”
Her mother frowned and stared at Lillian’s husband. “Is this true, Your Grace?”
But Christian was frowning and staring at Lillian. “I am not ill. Wherever did you get that idea?”
Did he not want his illness to be made public? Surely, telling her mother was not inappropriate? “But from your…?” Lillian trailed off.
He tilted his head and then shook it slightly before turning back toward her mother. “I have made more than adequate provisions in the contract, Your Grace, and in addition to meeting with Crawford, I am more than happy to have the documentation delivered to you as soon as possible so that you and your own solicitor can go over it. If you find anything disagreeable, I will have it amended to your liking. It was, indeed, beyond inconsiderate of us to enter into our marriage without your approval and I hope you will not hold it against me for the entirety of our relationship.”
Christian was saying all of the right and proper things to her mother, but Lillian could not help but feel unsettled at his unwavering contradiction of the condition of his health. I am not mistaken. He had told her he was dying. She had asked him how long? It was his reason for marrying her!
The unsettled feeling grew and she required all her concentration to comprehend the conversation between Christian and her mother.
“That may or may not begin to rectify some of this…” Her mother fluttered one hand a moment and made a harrumphing sound. “It remains to be seen whether you deserve my forgiveness. And my daughter owes me a most abject apology.”
“That is not so very unreasonable, is it, Lillian?” Christian was staring at her. Did he seem as perplexed as she did?
Feeling an odd combination of confusion and guilt, Lillian tried to read the thoughts behind his gaze. Was it possible he was not dying after all? Had he lied to her? But why? There was no logical reason for him to have done something so underhanded.
“Lillian?” He stared back at her with questioning eyes.
“Yes?” She finally brought herself to answer him. What had he and her mother been going on about?
“An apology?” He winced slightly and communicated by shifting his gaze in her mother’s direction and then back again.
“Oh, yes. So sorry, Mother. I shan’t do it again.” It would be wonderful news, indeed, if Christian was not dying, but it would also mean that he’d lied to her—and used her. But why?
It didn’t make sense. The only explanation was that he wanted to keep his ailment private.
“I should think not,” her mother responded. “I suppose we will need to have your belongings sent over to Master’s House then.” She turned back toward Christian. “And I expect to see that contract without delay.”
“Of course.” He had taken Lillian’s hand and squeezed it. Lillian stared down at it. It did appear to be a rather healthy-looking hand. Strong, and firm, and… He’d displayed an amazing amount of vigor in her bedchamber.
And the carriage, and the meadows they’d picnicked in…
“But for now, we shall take tea.” Her mother tugged at the bell pull.
Lillian burst to her feet. She could not sit here a moment longer without knowing the truth, and she most certainly did not wish to discuss this in the presence of her mother. “We have an appointment, Mother. Don’t we, Warwick?” She stared hard at Christian, who’d risen when she had, and dared him to deny her. “We will come for tea tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow will be much better.”
Obviously confused by her sudden desire to depart, he turned to bow toward her mother.
In a surprising turn of events, her mother rose as well and rushed across the room to embrace Lillian in a very un-dowager-duchess-like manner. “I only want you to be happy,” she whispered. As she pulled away, Lillian spied tears in her eyes. “It is all I ever wanted for you.”
Her mother’s unusual display of emotion summoned tears to Lillian’s own eyes. She embraced her mother again, choking down an unexpected sob. “I know, Mother. And I will.” But would she? “I love him.”