Page 53 of Loving an Earl
“It’s settled. I’m no longer nervous. I’m terrified.”
After partaking in two cups of tea and an equal number of biscuits, Lilly made her way up the sweeping staircase to Langford’s temporary room. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Langford sitting up, his eyes open and listening intently to something Caldwell was saying. She swayed on her feet as relief flooded her body. “You are awake.”
“Lilly,” when he spoke, Langford’s voice sounded hoarse and weak, but it was the best sound she’d heard in days.
Tentatively, she approached his bedside. Why she was suddenly nervous was beyond her. As she studied him, she noticed several things. The redness on his face was gone. His brown eyes, though not fully aware, were no longer hazy from fever. His dry lips were curved up into a grin, and she found herself smiling back. “It is good to see you alert. How are you feeling?”
“I was just explaining to these two that I feel as though I was run over by a coach. And then I remembered that is exactly what happened.” He paused and ran the hand of his good arm through his disheveled hair. “I feel lucky to be alive. Devastated for Baron Winslow that Annabelle is dead. And if I can ignore the pain in my head, I’m angry that you and Emmeline traveled into St. Giles... and at night no less.”
“We already discussed this.”
“Please let me finish before I fall asleep, which is going to happen any moment. I understand about your charity, but not about the fact that you are venturing into the back slums when it is dangerous on so many levels. And I would like to discuss it at some length when I’ve recovered more.”
Lilly wanted to protest, but his eyes drifted closed and she knew the exertion of talking had depleted his energy.
“We will take our leave, Lady Langford. I will rest easy knowing he is in your capable hands.” Blackstone dipped his head. “Thank you. I am forever in your debt.”
“My thanks as well, Countess,” Caldwell said as he bowed. “You have brought our friend back from the brink of death.”
Chapter Twenty
After they left,Lilly sat by Langford’s bed and pondered what his friends had said. She didn’t feel any responsibility for saving his life. Dr. Bailey’s medical care and Langford’s will to live had made the real difference in his recovery. As well as the help from Aunt Vivian, Mullens, Mrs. Lewis, and Mrs. Peterson. She had done very little besides sit at his bedside and pray. And pray she had, because it had all seemed out of anyone’s hands once the fever set in. Her insides eased with relief as she curled up into the chair and closed her eyes. Her body relaxed, her eyelids fluttered closed, and her breathing slowed as she drifted into a safe, warm, soothing place.
Her dreams were vivid. More vivid and real than her usual dreams. She watched the scenes unfold as an observer from high above, not from within her body.
She resided at Langford Manor in Kent. The air was warm and fresh, scented with lavender from the fields surrounding the large home. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully. When she had lived here previously, there were no lavender fields. Had Edmund planted them? Did he know how much she loved the color and scent of lavender?
The two of them together appeared happy and very much a couple. A married couple. Her eyes squinted, and she gasped when she noticed her belly heavy with child. And then she was in labor with Dr. Bailey standing by her feet, looking sad and worried. His lips were moving, but his words were garbled. He was shaking his head as pain tore through her body, ripping her in two. A scream resonated from deep in her throat and rose up, tearing through her lips and rattling the windowpanes.
“Lilly,” Langford’s worried voice pulled her from her dream.
“Yes. I’m here.” Her voice was still muzzy from sleep.
“You were dreaming.”
She blinked open her eyes and met his concerned ones as they studied her intently. “I was.”
“You had a smile on your face. It must have been a pleasant dream. But then something happened and you cried out.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Her heart pounded so loudly inside her chest that she could count the beats in her ears. She inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm her heart and settle her nerves. She didn’t remember the particulars of her dream anymore, although she could recall the warm loving feel at the beginning of it. In the end, all she remembered was pain lancing her body and then darkness. She shivered and hugged herself.
“Are you cold?”
“No. I was thinking about my dream.”
“Tell me about it?”
“I can’t. All I remember is that it began happily, but it changed and then it was sadness and pain and then nothing but darkness.”
“I dreamed strange dreams the past few nights,” Langford said. “I was lost in a torrential thunderstorm. The winds were howling, sending the rain sideways, and I didn’t recognize my surroundings. When the lightning flashed, it was so vivid it blinded me.” The dream still plagued him even now.
During the tumultuous storm, a woman called his name. Ignoring the rain and wind battering his body, he followed the sound of the voice. Several times he tripped on rocks and slipped in the mud covering the saturated ground. The closer he got to the voice, the more his heart pounded inside his chest. She sounded distraught and he knew, without a doubt, she was hurt or in terrible danger. As the woman cried out his name, he struggled to distinguish who it was, Annabella or Lilly. But Annabelle was dead, he knew it. He fought through the storm until he found the person he sought hovering in the middle of a cluster of small trees. Her arms were wrapped around her bent knees, with her head resting on them. Her drenched clothing clung to her body, and her soaking wet hair stuck to her face—a face he so desperately wanted to see.
“You were calling my name. Are you hurt?”
“Edmund,” she said with a sigh.
He gasped when he recognized the voice as Annabelle’s. Except he saw Lilly’s beautiful and frightened face, looking up at him through rain-soaked lashes.
