Love According To Lily by Julianne MacLean Page B

he gazed sleepily at her. “Lily, I didn’t know you were here.”
    She gazed with longing at his handsome face, relished the sound of her name on his lips, and struggled to find some sensible words in her muddled brain. But she had not slept much the night before, and she was still fighting the wrenching heartache over his illness. It simply wouldn’t give her any peace. No wonder she felt so rattled.
    “I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said. “I should go.”
    He did not argue.
    Part of her wished he would—that he would tell her she was welcome to stay as long as she liked, or even better, that he
wanted
her to say. But alas, she knew the measure of her importance in his life.
    She gave a parting smile to Annabelle, but when she left the room, she felt worse, not better. She did not want to be on the outside of Whitby’s life. Not now. She needed something more.
    Lily decided at that moment to offer to watch over him again tonight.

 
    Chapter 12
      
    “How is he?” Sophia asked, rising to her feet when Annabelle entered the drawing room later that evening.
    Lily stood, too, anxious to hear any developments.
    “He’s sleeping now,” Annabelle replied.
    “And the fever?”
    “Still high. He was asking for brandy.”
    Lily and Sophia glanced at each other with concern.
    “He’s very uncomfortable,” Annabelle said, “but he doesn’t argue when I say no.”
    Sophia gestured toward the chair opposite. “Come and sit down. You must be exhausted after the day you’ve had. I’ll ring for tea.”
    Annabelle joined them, and they chatted about her long journey from Bedfordshire and other small matters until the tea arrived, then Annabelle’s expression turned apologetic.
    “You must both be wondering why Whitby was so desperate to see me. And Lily, you heard some of our conversation earlier.”
    Lily and Sophia did not pry. They simply waited for Annabelle to continue.
    “I’m not sure if you are aware of the ‘bad blood’ in our family—the problems we’ve had with Whitby’s cousin, Magnus.”
    Sophia leaned forward to pour the tea. “James mentioned something once about a disagreeable cousin, but gave no other details. Did you know about it, Lily?”
    Lily shook her head.
    “Well,” Annabelle continued hesitantly, accepting a steaming cup of tea from Sophia and holding it on her lap, “Magnus’s father was cut off socially and financially from the family when he was just a boy—and for very good reason. He was a hateful, jealous child, and tried on many occasions to harm his older brother, the heir.”
    “Good gracious, I had no idea,” Sophia said.
    “His son, Magnus, is just as cruel and very bitter about the feud, and he envies Whitby the same way his father envied his brother. But now, if anything happens to Whitby, Magnus will inherit the title and house.”
    “Is he that bad?” Lily asked.
    Annabelle paused a moment before she replied. “You both know Whitby is a good man. He would not deny a family member what is due to him. But in this case, his feelings are well founded. Magnus has always coveted the title, you see, and there were suspicions that he may have caused the death of Whitby’s older brother, who was earl before him. That is where Whitby’s hatred comes from.”
    “Good heavens,” Sophia said. “It all sounds positively dreadful.”
    “That happened many years ago, when Whitby was only ten.” She raised her cup and took a sip.
    Tension spread through Lily’s shoulders. “Does Whitby truly believe Magnus killed his brother?”
    “No one could ever prove it, and Magnus denies it of course, but he is extremely hateful.”
    “That is why Whitby is concerned about you?” Lily asked. “He thinks Magnus might hurt you? But why? You would have no claim over the title.”
    Annabelle took a long time to answer. She seemed to be considering whether or not she should even try to explain, but finally she did. She lowered her cup and saucer to her lap