For a moment there she almost believed him.
Worse, she found that she wanted to believe him. A part of her wished for it so badly it nearly made her forget herself. The weak part of her chest that had never quite recovered even after her lungs had healed ached to believe that he meant it.
She almost did something unthinkably foolish. She nearly caved to the temptation to trust him again.
Really, Merrick, that girl will be the end of you. Abigail’s voice came back to her with crystal clarity and just in the nick of time.
She stiffened in his arms and drew back quickly, and his arms dropped to his sides at her sudden move.
She steeled herself against the childish urge to turn to her old friend for comfort and forced herself to look upon him now, as the man he’d become.
She’d been horrified when Abigail had turned her back on her during that season. Abigail had known of her illness, and rather than come to her aide, she’d turned Lily into a laughingstock.
She had been so certain that Merrick would be her salvation when he returned. And instead…
You cannot remain friends with someone like poor Laura if you wish to succeed in society.
She would never forget the way she’d held her breath, holding in a cough as she waited for his response. She’d been so certain he would come to her defense, that he would cut Abigail straightaway for even hinting that he would betray her and their friendship.
But instead he’d sighed. You’re right.
The memory of those words had her heart hardening all over again and took another step back. She’d been a youthful fool to believe someone like Abigail was truly a friend. She’d been even more naive to think that Merrick would stand by her side.
She’d amended then and there to do better the next time she made friends. And she had. Daisy and Marigold were the best sort of friends a girl could ask for.
She had no use for Merrick and his sudden charitable kindness now. Too little, too late.
But Lily had to confess, Merrick had handled her incident just now with more care and selflessness than he would have expected. Much as it pained her, she could not let that go unnoticed. “Thank you for this,” she said with a little wave toward where he’d held her, keeping her safe from prying eyes. “I’m...grateful.”
His brow furrowed. “You sound surprised. What did I do to so thoroughly ruin your opinion of me?”
She swallowed. That was a complicated question and not one to be easily glossed over.
But then again, what had he done to deserve the truth from her?
“You were right, Merrick. I should return to my parents before they begin to worry.”
Then, in a move completely unlike her, and like a complete coward, she turned and ran.
Chapter Four
The sound of a rifle’s report in the distance pulled Merrick out of his thoughts with a start.
“Merrick, have you heard a word I said?” Griff stopped walking and turned to face him with a glower.
Another blast from a rifle filled the air as a distant hunting party found its prey. The answer was no. He had not heard a word his friend had said for quite some time now. Not since they’d set out in this direction on the lawns. The two men had planned to join one of the groups setting out, but something had delayed them.
That something, Merrick now realized...was him.
The next blast had them moving again. As if by some unspoken agreement they headed toward the stables—one of few places not teeming with group activities. Mere moments ago they’d passed a flurry of ladies bearing butterfly nets heading toward the gardens. Perhaps Daisy was amongst them, which would explain why Griff was walking with Merrick and not his new bride-to-be.
And Lily? Merrick found himself looking over his shoulder for a redhead in the crowd of butterfly hunters.
No luck.
But then, he could hardly imagine her doing something so docile as strolling the gardens searching for butterflies. She’d always rolled her eyes at such activities, preferring instead to ride her horse at a breakneck speed or race across the grounds on foot leaving onlookers gaping in her wake.
But then again…
He had a memory of her cough from the night before and it made him cold all over. He’d never heard her sounding so ill. He’d never seen her so weak. So...so frail.
“You are doing it again,” Griff said from beside him.
“Hmm?” Merrick asked, making a point of looking at the scenery around them to avoid his friend’s prying eyes. He knew precisely to what his friend was referring.
Merrick was stewing. Perhaps even…brooding. It was not a state that came to him naturally but after last night it seemed all he was capable of doing.
It was all Lily’s fault, of course. She’d brought back memories better left forgotten.
Griff sighed beside him, but the sound lacked much of its usual grimness. The Duke of Dolan was decidedly less serious overall this morning. In fact, one might even call him...giddy. Even now his typical glower seemed to fade into a smile as he too glanced back in the direction of the great house, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of his betrothed.
The high and mighty duke had fallen head over heels over the course of a few days and Merrick found the sudden change in him amusing...and alarming.
This morning the change in his friend was unsettling.
Merrick eyed his friend warily as they continued their stroll to the stables to avoid the crowds. A little time and space was likely what they both needed. Merrick so he could get his head on straight after last night’s run-in with Lily. And Griff ought not to be allowed anywhere near a firearm. The duke’s newfound romance with Daisy and all the planning that came with courting the woman one loved had clearly driven him to distraction.
Merrick knew something of that...
He let out an exasperated huff. Now was not the time to dwell on the past.
And yet, that seemed to be all he was capable of this morning. He scrubbed a hand over his face, but that did nothing to banish the image of Lily’s expression just before she’d fled.
The girl had always been an open book. Her emotions were never far beneath the surface. Once upon a time he’d been adept at reading her, but last night he’d been stymied. There had been a myriad of emotions flickering in her eyes, all vying for supremacy and each more unsettling than the last.
She’d looked hurt, betrayed, angry...scared.
But why? What had he ever done to make her turn on him the way she had?
He groaned under his breath, ignoring Griff’s questioning look. If anyone understood the need for some silent stewing, surely it was Griff.
But no amount of brooding was giving Merrick any clarity. And why should it? Years had passed since she’d first turned on him, and he was no closer to understanding her anger now than he had been then.
Only one thing was different now.
He frowned down at the earth at his feet. That cough. How serious was it? She’d closed up on him before he could get much information, but he knew without a doubt she had not been telling him the whole truth.
A suspicion that had been nagging at him all morning came back with full force.
Was she still gravely ill? Had she lied about how well she was recovering? That cough, the way she’d turned so pale and had struggled to catch her breath…
Horror shot through him. A sort of crippling fear that made him forget every slight she’d cast his way and all he could think of was how she was faring, right this very moment. Was she suffering?