The Seduction of Sarah Marks (14 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Eastleigh opened his eyes to a darkened room, his back to the edge of the bed. He knew full-well someone sat in a chair behind him, watching over him.

As usual.

Disgust rolled through him, then mingled with his foul disposition—yet another awful, black mood he’d have to endure over the next several hours. Was it the megrim or the laudanum causing the problem?

“Call for Hemphill,” he said, not bothering to find out who sat watch.

“I am here,” Hemphill said. “I’m giving Lilith a break.”

Eastleigh rolled onto his back and rubbed at his eyes. “Christ, I think my condition has worsened.”

“What brings you to that conclusion?”

“Isn’t it obvious? These episodes are becoming more frequent and more intense. I had an attack when Lilith ran off to her parents’ home, another when she returned, and now this after…”

“After conjugal relations? Lilith told me.”

Eastleigh shoved the pillows behind him and worked his way into a sitting position. “Now it seems I cannot even perform husbandly duties without having to spend days in bed as a result.” He shot Hemphill a dour glare. “If this is what’s going to happen every time I climb into bed with my wife, it’s not worth the kind of pain and misery I’d have to endure.”

Hemphill lifted his hands, palms up, as if in defeat. “I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I’ve not run into this kind of problem before. However, both you and Lilith have been under a great deal of pressure with the way things have played out since the two of you were wed. Like it or not, she’s still healing, as well. She’s worried about you, by the way, and hasn’t left your side but for a few moments at a time. She’s taken her meals in here as well.”

Eastleigh slowly bent his head back and forth, working out the kinks. “How long have I been out this time?”

Hemphill reached for his tea. “Four days.”

“Bloody hell! Count the number of days I’ve been incapacitated of late, and this illness, from which there seems no end, is taking up half my life.” He rubbed at the bristle on his jaw. “I cannot keep this up, Hemphill. The attacks are more frequent than when I returned from the war.”

He gave a wave of his hand. “Open the damn curtains, will you? I cannot tell you how weary I am of the darkness.”

Without a word, Hemphill complied.

Eastleigh squinted at the bright light spilling into the room. Blue skies. Had there been decent weather all these days and he’d slept through it?

“What the devil time is it?”

“Nearly noon.” Hemphill returned to his chair and to his cup of tea. “I would advise you to refrain from marital relations until you can manage a couple of weeks without one of your episodes.”

Eastleigh glanced at the other side of the bed, at an indentation in the pillow. He brought it to his face. Lilith’s scent—that enticing, clean, spring-like essence. A fist gripped his heart. She had slept beside him, and he hadn’t even been aware of her presence? What kind of life was he offering her if he was to be incapacitated for most of it? What kind of misery was he setting himself up for?

He cursed under his breath. “This is hardly fair to Lilith.”

The door opened, and she walked in. “You’re awake.”

“I am.” He dropped his gaze to the foot of the bed. God, what did she think of him making passionate love to her only to keel over and lie comatose for days?

She glanced back and forth between him and Hemphill. “Am I interrupting?”

Hemphill shot Eastleigh a speaking glance. “Your husband might need a few hours to collect himself, which always seems to be the case after one of these episodes.”

Foul mood or not, Eastleigh knew what he had to do. “Would you excuse us, Hemphill? There’s something I wish to discuss with Lilith.”

The doctor frowned. “If you are entertaining the idea of discussing anything of a serious nature, I highly recommend you delay a few hours. Better yet, a day or two.”

“Damn it, Hemphill. Leave us.”

“As you wish.” He picked up his teacup and saucer, and bidding Lilith good day, exited the room.

She frowned and moved toward the bed. “You worry me, Eastleigh. What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t bear to look at her with what he had to say. All he knew was that his condition had turned him into half a man, and he could no longer live this way. Nor could he tolerate many more episodes. He wanted back his predictable, slow-paced life. To hell with concerns about loneliness. “How long before you’ll know if you are with child?”

She clasped her hands together as if struggling for composure. “As of yesterday, I can tell you with certainty that I am not.”

“You recently asked for an annulment—”

Her eyes widened. “That was in the past. We’ve moved beyond that miserable subject.”

He shook his head. God, was it beginning to ache again, or was he only feeling the pressure from what he had to say? “I’ve come to the conclusion that we are not so evenly yoked after all.”

She plopped down in the chair, her face ashen. “I did not please you when we were intimate?”

Tossing cold water on him couldn’t have stunned him more. She wanted to blame herself? The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “God, Lilith. You pleased me more than you can know. But as a result, I had to spend yet another four days in bed.”

She stiffened in that way he now knew to be a form of self-preservation. Those lovely blue eyes of hers stared at him. Unwavering. Piercing his very soul.

“I’ve endured one episode after another since we wed, and they seem to be worsening instead of diminishing. I cannot bear suffering through this affliction much more. I need peace and quiet—a rather boring life, actually.”

She dropped her gaze to her clasped hands. “If you’re not blaming me directly, then you blame our untenable situation?”

The fist gripping his heart tightened. “More that I blame this despicable illness.”

“But we’ve recently consummated the marriage. We cannot—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Lilith. We consummated it the day we married. What’s the difference if we lie through our teeth about one time or two?”

“It’s no longer a matter of the three of us knowing, Eastleigh. There must be others in the household who are aware I spent time in your bed.”

“Tildy is the only other person who knows. Believe me, she values her station here far more than she would be willing to dispense with a bit of gossip.”

Lilith unclasped her hands and took to picking imaginary lint off her lap in rapid little movements. “I am quite aware that you awaken in a foul mood after one of these episodes. Perhaps Hemphill is right. We should discuss this on the morrow.”

He drew a long breath into his lungs, then heaved a sigh. “Tomorrow won’t make a bit of difference. You cannot possibly know what it’s like to have endured what has finally become the unendurable. Sometimes the pain is so bad I continually vomit until I feel as though my insides might spill right out of my mouth. And if you recall, I am not fully recovered. There are pieces of my memory still missing.”

Closing his eyes, he paused for a long moment. “Something happened while I was at war, Lilith. Something so terrible that I can only catch glimpses of it during my darkest hours.”

“I am willing to see you through those times,” she said.

“It’s not fair for you to have to suffer along with me.”

“But I want to.” Her voice had gone soft as a baby’s breath. “I…I wouldn’t want to miss out on any part of you. I want to share the good times as well as the bad. Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be about, seeing one another through thick and thin?”

He opened his eyes.

And wished he hadn’t.

He was going to miss her. He was going to miss those soulful eyes the color of cornflowers, her silken skin, even her voice. And he was going to miss a lifetime of making love to a woman filled with more passion than a man could ever hope for. But that could well be part of the problem. He’d taken her to his bed and ended up worse off than before.

Had it been the unbridled passion that had triggered a relapse? Was he to forego living like a normal man? The idea of an annulment, then taking another wife because his station in life required an heir, revolted him. His brothers would have offspring that would continue the lineage. That would have to do.

“Don’t make this harder, Lilith. I simply cannot go on this way.”

“So much for love.”

“What did you say?”

Her gaze connected to his. This time it was filled with a hard glint, but it was gone in a flash. “Nothing. Please, go on.”

“There’s a dower house on my parents’ property an hour from here. You can move in there while I see to the annulment.”

A small noise left her throat. “You wish to abandon me to an outlier house on land I’ve never stepped foot on, and without my say-so?”

He shoved a handful of curls off his brow, his fingers feeling more like knives slicing through his skull. “It wouldn’t work to have us wandering around in the same house.”

“Yes, of course.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Perfectly understandable.” Her arms tightened about her waist. “However, I would be utterly miserable having to reside on your father’s estate on a permanent basis. After all, you’ll inherit one day.”

She made a wide sweep with her hand. “And this is the home you built for yourself. Obviously, I don’t know the whole of it, but you’ll likely inherit other properties farther away that you wouldn’t be interested in visiting. I would do well alone on one of them, tending to my gardens. I cannot possibly return to my father.”

The confusion in her eyes nearly undid him.

“I don’t know where I might ultimately go—”

“You may remain in the dower house for a month while you decide where you want to reside. If it is your wish, you can choose anywhere to live
other
than Malvern property. You can build a cottage by the sea, for all I care. I owe you that much for having put you through this debacle.”

“I see.” She studied him for a long moment, then folded her hands in her lap and raised her chin. Her face was devoid of expression, her actions graceful. She was masterful at hiding her emotions. She had to be strung tight as a violin string.

She stood. “Then I will be gone in the morning. Goodbye, Eastleigh.”

Chapter Eighteen

Barely able to see through the aqueous haze blurring her vision, Lilith wiped at her tears and peered through the carriage window at the imposing limestone mansion. If this was the dower house, what in heaven’s name did the main estate look like? Despite its traditional Palladian architecture, the three-story structure somehow managed to appear stark and unfriendly. And then it dawned on her—the building sat amidst several acres of nothing but plain grass spiked with a few unremarkable trees.

Nary a flower in sight.

She was to live in this isolated place for an entire month? A pox on Mother for remaining behind.

Behind the structure and extending to the right in a half-moon shape stood a foreboding woodland. One could get lost wandering around alone in there.

Alone.

Her heart did a strange flip. Her mood dropped another notch. It hadn’t taken her long sitting at Eastleigh’s bedside, listening to his excuses, to know he was likely right—their relationship had been volatile. It lacked harmony, and they were not suited. He deserved someone who caused him fewer headaches—literally. Good that she’d ignored the terrible urge to refuse to leave.

Her stomach growled. Sick at heart, she’d not been able to manage a bite before leaving Easton Park. Even now, the idea of food repulsed her. She gathered Daisy onto her lap and hugged her. The trip was only an hour’s drive, she’d been told, so it couldn’t be more than half past ten, yet it seemed as though she’d been on the road for days.

The coachman guided the carriage through tall iron gates and headed down a straight driveway. Boxwood lined either side of the entrance, clipped low and precise—as if a gardener, lacking flowers to tend, had nothing better to do. Gravel crunched beneath the slow moving wheels, resonating loudly within the silent carriage. She doubted entering through prison gates would feel much different.

The place appeared vacant. Another glance toward the dense woods edging the lawns and she pulled her cape tight about her shoulders. The driver hadn’t even let her off, and already loneliness twined through her insides like a poisonous vine.

A steady pressure exerted itself inside her head. She rubbed her temples. Lord, but exhaustion was about to do her in. This must have something to do with her low mood—along with her stay at Easton Park ending in a fireball of hell.

Eastleigh.

Had she done the right thing by quietly leaving without any goodbyes? Her resolve wavered. Should she have defied his orders and paid him her farewells this morning? Tried one more time to get him to change his mind? That would have been a thick-headed and shallow thing to have done. Let him come to her if he changes his mind.

She should never have engaged Mrs. Hazelthorpe’s matchmaking services. Someone as eligible as Eastleigh would easily have found the right person to wed in no time. She pressed the back of her head against the squabs, her chest so tight she had to force her breaths.

The carriage pulled into a small, circular drive in front of the house. The coachman jumped from his perch, opened the door, and offered his hand.

“Thank you,” Lilith said, exiting the carriage. Daisy tumbled after her and began running in wide circles, sniffing about. Suddenly, the air seemed quite scarce. She fought for breath. “It doesn’t appear as though anyone is here.”

“A rider was sent ahead to give notice of your arrival, so someone’s sure to be about, milady. I’ll see to your trunks.”

The front door opened, and a short, rather plump woman stepped forth. She smoothed a white apron against a black dress and touched the bun at the back of her neck as if to make certain she was presentable. “Welcome to Penrose Cottage, milady.”

Cottage?
That was a laugh.

“I’m Mrs. Ackerman. Beggin’ your pardon, but I’m the only one could be spared today, seeing as how the entire family is in residence.” Her cheeks flushed. “Except for Lord Eastleigh. And…and you, of course. You’ll have a right proper staff on the morrow, Lady Eastleigh.”

Lilith nearly groaned. Apparently, word traveled fast. So she was to be called Lady Eastleigh even with an annulment forthcoming? Oh, dear. If Eastleigh were to perish, she’d become his widow—and remain Lady Eastleigh forevermore. A blot on a good man’s name, she’d be. She drew her teeth over her bottom lip and pressed a hand against her stomach.

Mrs. Ackerman’s brows knit together. “Are you all right, milady? You’ve grown quite pale.” She motioned toward the interior of the house. “Please, come in.”

Lilith moved to the entry and stepped inside. “I’ve had a rather tiring few days. Would you please show me to my chambers?”

“Of course, milady.”

The hollow click of Lilith’s heels on the stone floor reverberated straight through her. An urge to rush back to the carriage nearly overtook her. But where to go from here? Certainly not back to Father. Nor to Easton Park where she was no longer welcome. What in the world was to become of her?

Mrs. Ackerman and the coachman exchanged words Lilith couldn’t give a fig about hearing. The coachman bid his good-byes and departed. At the sound of harnesses rattling and retreating hoof beats, panic bit at her frail composure.

“Would you care to have me show you around, milady? Lady Ardmore’s mother was the last person in residence before she moved to Easton Park. Having lived in the foreign countries, she acquired rather unusual tastes.”

“Actually, I’ve been confined to the carriage for over an hour, so a bit of morning air might be just the thing.” Lilith was wound so tight, she doubted she could manage a tour. Not to mention that her heart had been shattered and trying to make small talk with a servant was beyond her.

“Seeing as how there ain’t nuthin’ but the drive and road out front, I’ll show you to the rear entrance, milady.”

“Thank you.” Good, a garden out back where she might sit awhile.

Mrs. Ackerman led Lilith from the vestibule and along what should have been a wide corridor with doors leading to rooms on either side. To Lilith’s amazement, no doors were to be seen. Nor did anything passing for walls face the hallway. Instead, a series of widely spaced white pillars etched in gold lined each side of the passageway.

A faint smile touched Mrs. Ackerman’s mouth. “Mum couldn’t abide being shut up inside dreary rooms, so she had the doors removed along with as many walls facing the corridor as was possible.”

The interior of the house with its open, airy and colorful rooms stood in stark contrast to the cold, limestone exterior. And the furnishings were completely unrelated to the oppressive, dark and heavy furniture Lilith had grown up with. So why was she suddenly near tears? It seemed as if the inside of the house begged to lift her spirits, while her heart refused the invitation.

She didn’t belong here.

Then where do I belong, for pity’s sake?

She tucked a loose tendril behind her ear, as if the gesture might soothe her. “Gracious, I may as well be in a foreign land, but I rather like it.”

“And you have yet to see the upper floors.”

“Please, I require a bit of fresh air.”

“Of course, milady, beg pardon.” Mrs. Ackerman swept a hand to the double doors at the end of the straight corridor—or whatever one might name this unusual space.

Lilith exited onto a covered terrace, and her heart sank. Not a flower in sight. Only more lawn and the dense forest turning to haze in the distance. Clipped boxwood lined empty flower beds, looking as forlorn as she felt. “Oh, dear.”

Mrs. Ackerman stepped forward. “Mum used to have a spectacular rose garden here, but she took her prized bushes with her to Easton Park. If you’d like something planted, I can have the gardener discuss it with Lady Willamette. She oversees anything to do with the outdoors.”

God, no!
Will was the last person she’d want to run into. “I’m quite fine with the way it is, thank you.”

Again, her stomach growled. “Would you mind seeing to a cup of tea and perhaps some toast or a crumpet?”

“At once, milady.” Mrs. Ackerman disappeared inside, leaving the double doors open.

Lilith seated herself in the single wrought iron chair beside a table made from the same cold metal. An ache settled around her heart. She was having feelings never before experienced, but she didn’t know what they were or what to do with them. She let out a sigh, the only sound in the morning air.

Come the morrow, there’d be no Eastleigh to greet her with his lazy grin. No speaking to her in a voice that grew husky whenever he regarded her a bit too long. There’d be no forgetting his wonderful scent or the heat emanating from him when he had the audacity to stand a fraction too close. And then there had been their first
real
lovemaking, when a firestorm had roared through her.

Visions of his blood staining the floor tracked through her mind like a muddy beast, obliterating the good memories. Her hunger dissipated, replaced by a hollow ache.

Hoof beats shook the earth, and the sound drew nearer. Oh, no! Those Malvern men. She sprang from her seat, but before she was able to disappear, the horses rounded the corner of the house.

“Lilith!”

Not Malvern men, but Malvern women—Iris, Rose, and Violet—all three mounted atop magnificent beasts, and all three dressed in men’s riding gear.

Rose’s horse danced in a circle around the other two. “I know what you are thinking, Lilith. We dress like this whenever we ride on our own property. Which is often.”

“Will’s the only one who takes dressing like a man to the extreme,” Iris said.

“Oh.” Lilith took a step back from Rose’s horse that refused to stop prancing.

“You’re to come with us,” Violet said. “Mama doesn’t want you alone your first night here.”

Good Lord, not with Will and the brothers on hand! “Please thank Lady Ardmore for me, but I am utterly exhausted.”

Rose shook her head, the chestnut braid hanging over her shoulder flipping about. “We dare not return without you.”

“Please, you’ve your entire family in residence. I would only be in the way.”

“Our brothers raided the kitchens and left for Easton Park. Will tagged along. You should hurry since we mustn’t miss the noon meal.”

Rose moved her horse closer and looked down at Lilith. “Come, ride with me.”

Lilith took a couple quick steps back. “I…I don’t ride.”

Iris shot Violet a speaking glance. “Mum left a small curricle in the stable,” Violet said. “We’ll hitch one of our horses to it.”

With that, she eased her mount right through the open door of the house and proceeded along the corridor. “Ackerman!” she hollered. “Lady Eastleigh is to spend the night with us. Collect some of her things and come along if you don’t wish to be here alone.”

Mrs. Ackerman opened the front doors and stood aside. Violet walked her horse right out the front entrance.

Lilith pressed her hand to her breast. “I do not believe what I just saw.”

Rose shrugged. “Learned it from our brothers, she did. Meet us out front.”

…

Eastleigh finished tying his cravat, then dropped into a chair. Why bother taking himself downstairs? He could just as easily have a tray sent up. Not that he had any appetite to speak of.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d never relished the days following an episode, but today, he may as well be walking knee-deep in mud with no relief in sight. He’d come to expect the black moods that followed an episode, the sense of not being quite present until the laudanum wore completely off. At least the duration of his infirmary had decreased in direct proportion to how much he recovered his memory. Today, however, things were different. In addition to everything else he’d endured, he’d been struck with a doleful sense that his soul had been hollowed out, that he no longer possessed a life with any purpose.

Lilith.

Blast it all, he couldn’t stop thinking of her. And there was the rub. The decision he’d made regarding his marriage, difficult as it had been, was the right one. The marriage would soon be over and done with. No sense looking back. No sense doubting his own judgment.

Slapping his hands against his thighs as if to confirm his thoughts, he pushed himself to a standing position and exited his chambers. Too late for breakfast, but Mum would likely be on the terrace having tea on what had turned into a sunny day. He could use the company after being cooped up in his chambers for what seemed an eternity.

As he descended the stairs, the quirky notes of a piano solo surrounded him. Will? What was she doing here? And attempting to play that same Chopin Mazurska again. When in bloody hell would she figure out she had neither the sensitivity nor the patience to master anything that man had produced?

He slipped past the open doors to the parlor and out back to the terrace overlooking the gardens without her catching sight of him.

“Eastleigh.” Ridley sat at the table with Mum and Sebastien, his face bereft of expression.

His back to Eastleigh, Sebastien glanced over his shoulder. “Join us?”

What the devil? Mum sat facing him, her usually bright smile blatantly missing, the twinkle in her eyes gone. “Do sit with us, Augie. We’ve been waiting for my ward, but she is nowhere to be found.”

Ridley frowned. “Mum.”

She pursed her lips and shot a scowl right back at Ridley. “If Augie’s going to play games, why shouldn’t we?” She turned to Eastleigh. “Sit.”

He complied, but not without lifting a brow. “What’s got into you?”

“Lilith left us without so much as a farewell.”

Eastleigh’s jaw clamped shut so tight it hurt. He drew in a breath while he forced his mouth to relax. “She’s gone to the dower house already, has she? I had hoped to explain the situation first.”

“Indeed,” Mum said. “Now tell us why you tossed your good wife out on her arse.”

“Good God, Mum.” Eastleigh looked to the terrace ceiling while he collected his thoughts. “You know nothing about what occurred. I—”

“Like hell, I don’t,” she said. “Tildy did the packing, and as soon as the carriage rolled out the drive, she ran straight to me. Told me everything she knew. Shame on you.”