Page 136 of Wild Lily
Chapter 18
Their journey to England was a week in which Lily fought with herself minute by minute. In her small home in Tipperary, she’d been happy. Or perhaps satisfied was the more appropriate word. She enjoyed the people, hard-working, quiet and devoted to their families. If she brought them a new measure of prosperity with better seeds, the Connemara pony and medical care, they brought her a renewed contentment in the simpler life of a rural village. It was that she had missed of Texas. That she wanted to enjoy wherever she lived.
She took the staircase down to breakfast the morning after their arrival. She’d slept soundly and alone. Since Julian had appeared in front of her in Ireland, they’d not shared the same bed. He did not ask. She did not offer. There was much that must be said and done if they were ever again to be lovers.
She strolled into the dining room, the footman Finch fighting a smile at her appearance, the ancestor on the wall above him still stuffy and much too pretty for his own good. And at the head of the table sat her husband in his morning jacket and soft white shirt. The handsome devil she’d married made her heart jump with desire.
Julian stood, pushed back his chair and pulled out her own.
She hated the formality of it, but she understood his need to do it.
Finch poured her coffee and Julian regained his seat, then folded his morning paper.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did.”Our big bed is the most wonderful furnishing in this house.She grinned at her own thought.
“What? You must share.”
She rolled her eyes at him and cast a sideways look at Finch. “Never.”
“Would you like the paper?”
“Not today. Maybe not for a long time. I enjoyed being blissfully ignorant of politics while I was away.”
“Finch, please give me a selection from the sideboard, would you?” She enjoyed simply sitting here, looking at the house through the prism of her Irish perspective.
She and Julian remained quiet while the footman served her.
“Thank you, Finch,” Julian said. “I’ll ring when we’re finished.”
On their journey, she had asked about the health of her own family. Julian had recounted his conversation with her father and she had written to him to assure him of her health and safety as well as her return to England with Julian. In that week, she not asked about his family. Now she felt ready to learn.
“How is Elanna? Have you seen her?” She sipped her coffee.
“Once a few weeks ago. She is the same.”
“Unhappy.”
“And resentful of her need to marry.”
“We could hope Carbury changes.”
Julian’s mouth turned down. “He is not motivated.”
As a topic too close to their own circumstances, Lily let that pass and put her attention to her eggs. “And your mother?”
“I have not seen her. Have not called upon her and she has not come here.”
At another impasse, she let that subject slide. “And what of the tenants who were ill? With the warmer weather, I hope they’ve improved.”
“They have. I thought after we finish eating, we’d go visit them. What do you say?”
Minutes later, they left the house to walk down the lane. Along the way, she saw Docker and his two sons working in the stable block.
“I’d like to say hello,” she told Julian, took a few paces to the right and waved at the men. “Good morning, gentlemen. Nice to see you.”
All three doffed their hats and welcomed her.
