“Do you think Lady Pembrooke is well?” Alice asked.
Lily pursed her lips and thought again of the terror in Lockhart’s expression. “I-I don’t know.”
“I hope so. She’s very kind.” There was a pause. “But…but if she’s not, perhaps we should postpone the wedding.”
There was almost…hopein her sister’s tone at that idea and Lily stiffened at it. Every time she saw evidence of Alice’s lack of interest in the marriage, she felt such a shot of yearning laced with horror at the consequences.
“I don’t know that we’re at that stage yet,” she said gently. “Do you think perhaps you should go speak to Lockhart?”
Alice jolted and glanced up at her. “Oh. I suppose he did seem upset, didn’t he? But is that really my place?”
Lily blinked at that question. Could her sister truly be so innocent? “He’ll be your husband in a very short time, Alice. To support him isexactlyyour place. That connection, that encouragement between partners is at the core of the best marriages. You must see that when you look at all our friends.”
If she hoped Alice would take that advice in, she was disappointed. Rather than that, her sister looked shocked. A little like a fox cornered by hounds. Her expression twisted and her hands shook before she shoved them behind her back.
“Oh, Lily,” Alice said softly. “Please…I don’t know. I can’t, please don’t ask me…”
The tears that filled her sister’s eyes made Lily’s heart drop further. Even this reasonable suggestion created too much of a bond to the man for Alice. And here was Lily, longing to find him, to uncover his pain, to wrap her love around it so that it stung less.
For the first time in her life, Lily resented Alice for not embracing what Lily wanted so much. How could her sister not love this man? How could she not connect with him at all when he was everything a person could ever want?
“Well, if you don’t think you can, it’s fine,” she lied. “I’m sure you’ll learn as you come to know him better over the years.”
Alice nodded. Lily stepped back from her and smoothed her hands over her skirt, the need to find Lockhart filling every part of her being. The men were going to look for him and she should have let that be.
But she feared the places they sought him wouldn’t be the places he’d be found. She knew where he would go in this moment of pain and worry. And then she was moving, almost against her own will, slipping from the room as the others continued to talk quietly.
She left the room and the house and made her way to him, knowing it was a mistake and not giving a damn.
* * *
George stood in the darkness of the tower, his hands pressed to the cold stone of the interior walls and he couldn’t breathe. The reality of everything happening in his life was hitting him and it felt like shotgun blasts that knocked him back over and over again.
His mother had looked so small as she sat on the settee, pale and trembling. She’d always been such a big presence in his life, such a warm light, and now he felt her dimming. Fading.
And in her place would be Alice. Alice, who would hardly look at him. Alice, who clearly had no interest in him. His marriage would be empty, cold, and all he would have were memories of Lily to keep him warm.
Worse, Lily would come to his home. She would spend time with her sister. They would look at each other over tables and all he would feel was this pulse of desire and longing for her that he was beginning to realize would never fade away.
He looked into that future and it all seemed so hopeless and empty. And unavoidable.
“Lockhart?” He heard the sound in the distance and squeezed his eyes shut. He was either hearing Lily’s voice now in his distress or he had actually conjured her to him in this moment of pain. He remained quiet, hoping she wouldn’t appear.
Praying she would.
“Lockhart?” Her voice came again and then after a pause, “George?”
He let out a shaky breath and stepped from the tower into the brilliant sunshine of the afternoon. “Lily?”
She jolted as she saw him and rushed toward him, hands clenched at her sides. She lifted them toward him and then hesitated. A caress not given and yet he still felt it like she’d moved those same hands over his skin. It was torture.
“I was worried about you,” she said.
He stared at her, this woman who had come to rescue him from a tower. This woman whose gentle kindnesses and heated passions seemed to intertwine with his with ease, as if they were meant to do so. He stared at her and all he wanted to do was take her back into the cool building behind them, lock them both in, and pretend the rest of the world no longer existed.
“I’m well,” he croaked out instead. “I needed air.”
She held his gaze, searching there. Seeing, he feared. Of course she would see, she held the keys to everything didn’t she? And he was too weak to resist her, especially now.
