he was not to take the privilege too far. She waited.
Kevin bent his head to press his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and not unpleasant. Lilah did not pull away, or repulse him in any way. Eyes tightly shut, she concentrated, willing the feeling to come—but it would not. His kiss meant no more than a kiss she might have received from any relative of whom she was moderately fond. It was just as she had told Betsy—ladies did not have feelings like that. And if she had, once, she must not remember it.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Kevin asked when he lifted his head. A slight smile curved his lips. Lilah could see that he was feeling mighty pleased with himself. He had enjoyed the kiss, and the knowledge cheered her a little. At least he seemed to find nothing lacking in her response. That he could be content with so little augured well for the success of their marriage.
“It was very nice,” she told him, patting his arm as one would to humor a nice child. Looking down at her, his smile broadened and his hands, which had been restinglightly on her waist, slid clear around her. To Lilah’s dismay he bent his head to repeat the exercise, more lingeringly this time. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and endured. At least he wasn’t devouring her with his mouth as he had tried to do the night before. …
“Oh, Lord Jesus, somebody help me! Millard’s took bad!” A woman erupted from her cabin three doors down the passage, her pale face lined with fright and her gray hair untidy. Lilah remembered that her name was Mrs. Gorman, and she was traveling with her husband and grown daughter. At the interruption, Kevin lifted his mouth from hers, his arms dropping from around her waist as he took a quick step backwards. Lilah, secretly relieved to be freed so opportunely, turned toward the woman who was hurrying toward them.
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Gorman? Is your husband ill?” Lilah caught the other woman’s arm when she would have rushed past them. Only then did Mrs. Gorman seem to become aware of their presence in the passageway. Her eyes, before they focused on Lilah, were wild.
“Aye, he is, and it’s Dr. Freeman I’m needin’! Let me go, please, I’ve got to fetch him?”
“Kevin—Mr. Talbott—will find him for you, if you like. If you want to return to your husband in the meantime, I’ll be glad to accompany you.”
“You’re a sweet gel. I’ve said it to Millard more than once during this trip.”
Taking that distracted compliment for assent to Lilah’s plan, Kevin nodded and stepped briskly away. Mrs. Gorman turned back down the passageway, so agitated that she hardly knew what she was doing. Lilah followed, though she was not sure that Mrs. Gorman was even aware that she was behind her.
From the woman’s terror, Lilah expected her husband to be in extremus, but she did not expect the terrible stench of uncontrolled diarrhea, or the pools of vomitthat had long since overflowed every available container and lay in puddles near the bunk where the skeletal Mr. Gorman lay. Obviously he had been sick for some hours before Mrs. Gorman had summoned help. His daughter—a too—thin spinster whose first name Lilah thought was Doris—was sitting on the edge of his bunk wiping his mouth. Lilah’s stomach turned over, but both women looked at her so hopefully that she could not follow her first instinct to flee. Trying to control her revulsion, Lilah stepped carefully toward the bunk, holding her skirt well clear of the floor. “Oh, Mum, did you get the doctor? Da needs him sore bad.”
Miss Gorman’s wailing question was punctuated by loud gasps from the man in the bunk. As his daughter leaned over him and Mrs. Gorman ran to his side, Mr. Gorman sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. Then he fell back against his pillows like a collapsed balloon.
“Is he dead?”
“No, Mum, look, he’s breathing. Oh, we need the doctor!”
“He’s coming,” Lilah murmured reassuringly, her
Kevin bent his head to press his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and not unpleasant. Lilah did not pull away, or repulse him in any way. Eyes tightly shut, she concentrated, willing the feeling to come—but it would not. His kiss meant no more than a kiss she might have received from any relative of whom she was moderately fond. It was just as she had told Betsy—ladies did not have feelings like that. And if she had, once, she must not remember it.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Kevin asked when he lifted his head. A slight smile curved his lips. Lilah could see that he was feeling mighty pleased with himself. He had enjoyed the kiss, and the knowledge cheered her a little. At least he seemed to find nothing lacking in her response. That he could be content with so little augured well for the success of their marriage.
“It was very nice,” she told him, patting his arm as one would to humor a nice child. Looking down at her, his smile broadened and his hands, which had been restinglightly on her waist, slid clear around her. To Lilah’s dismay he bent his head to repeat the exercise, more lingeringly this time. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and endured. At least he wasn’t devouring her with his mouth as he had tried to do the night before. …
“Oh, Lord Jesus, somebody help me! Millard’s took bad!” A woman erupted from her cabin three doors down the passage, her pale face lined with fright and her gray hair untidy. Lilah remembered that her name was Mrs. Gorman, and she was traveling with her husband and grown daughter. At the interruption, Kevin lifted his mouth from hers, his arms dropping from around her waist as he took a quick step backwards. Lilah, secretly relieved to be freed so opportunely, turned toward the woman who was hurrying toward them.
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Gorman? Is your husband ill?” Lilah caught the other woman’s arm when she would have rushed past them. Only then did Mrs. Gorman seem to become aware of their presence in the passageway. Her eyes, before they focused on Lilah, were wild.
“Aye, he is, and it’s Dr. Freeman I’m needin’! Let me go, please, I’ve got to fetch him?”
“Kevin—Mr. Talbott—will find him for you, if you like. If you want to return to your husband in the meantime, I’ll be glad to accompany you.”
“You’re a sweet gel. I’ve said it to Millard more than once during this trip.”
Taking that distracted compliment for assent to Lilah’s plan, Kevin nodded and stepped briskly away. Mrs. Gorman turned back down the passageway, so agitated that she hardly knew what she was doing. Lilah followed, though she was not sure that Mrs. Gorman was even aware that she was behind her.
From the woman’s terror, Lilah expected her husband to be in extremus, but she did not expect the terrible stench of uncontrolled diarrhea, or the pools of vomitthat had long since overflowed every available container and lay in puddles near the bunk where the skeletal Mr. Gorman lay. Obviously he had been sick for some hours before Mrs. Gorman had summoned help. His daughter—a too—thin spinster whose first name Lilah thought was Doris—was sitting on the edge of his bunk wiping his mouth. Lilah’s stomach turned over, but both women looked at her so hopefully that she could not follow her first instinct to flee. Trying to control her revulsion, Lilah stepped carefully toward the bunk, holding her skirt well clear of the floor. “Oh, Mum, did you get the doctor? Da needs him sore bad.”
Miss Gorman’s wailing question was punctuated by loud gasps from the man in the bunk. As his daughter leaned over him and Mrs. Gorman ran to his side, Mr. Gorman sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. Then he fell back against his pillows like a collapsed balloon.
“Is he dead?”
“No, Mum, look, he’s breathing. Oh, we need the doctor!”
“He’s coming,” Lilah murmured reassuringly, her
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