Free Willoughby 03 - A Rogue's Deadly Redemption by Jeannie Ruesch

about that now.
    In minutes, she was lying in bed, aware that Robert lay in his just down the hall. That in itself was a rarity. It was a sad state indeed when it took a head injury for them to both sleep under the same roof.
    ***
    “Good morning, my lady,” Anna said. “Cook sent up a tray for you.”
    Lily blinked the sleep from her eyes, disoriented. “What…” She looked around her old room, stripped bare of the small comforts they had packed away. It was impersonal, unconnected. What was she doing here?
    Robert’s accident.
    The night before rushed back, and Lily’s heart hitched. Lily slid from her bed and found her clothes, clean and brushed, on the edge of the bed.
    “Mr. Melrose?” she asked.
    Anna shook her head. “No change.”
    Lily ate and dressed quickly. No change or not, she wanted to see for herself. When she arrived at his door, Edwin looked up from his perch on a chair at Robert’s bedside.
    Lily halted. She wasn’t sure why, but she’d never felt truly comfortable around Edwin. He always seemed coiled, ready to jump. Not that she believed he would ever hurt her—quite the opposite in fact. Perhaps it was the sense of undying loyalty that so unnerved her.
    “Lady Melrose,” he said as he stood up.
    Lily stopped at the edge of the bed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Robert. His skin had grown more pale, or perhaps it was the contrast of the deepening, angry purples and blues that bled into his hairline around his forehead.
    He appeared…tranquil. Despite the ugly bruises, it was the uncommon smoothness of his features, the soft line of his brow instead of the deep slashes she had seen so often. The tension that thinned his mouth into a silent line was missing.
    It was startling.
    “Any change?” she asked.
    “No. He hasn’t moved.”
    “Why did you bring him here?”
    “Mr. Melrose doesn’t care for hospitals. He finds them appalling places of disease. He’d prefer to be home.”
    “He doesn’t?” she murmured. She hadn’t known that, not that it was an uncommon thought. But then again, the list of things she didn’t know about her husband was long enough to pave a path to Ireland.
    Just another reminder of how small a part she had played in his life. How little they shared.
    She angled toward the door.
    Edwin stepped away from the chair. “Stay. He would appreciate knowing you were by his side.”
    Lily’s gaze jerked to Robert’s servant. “Why would you say that?”
    Edwin blinked, the only movement in a calm, unmoving face. “Because it’s the truth.” His words were plain spoken, unvarnished. Because of that, she almost believed him.
    She wanted to believe him.
    What did that say about her? Tension coiled through her, uncertainty rose in her throat. He’d hurt her, time and again, by his utter lack of interest, by his flagrant nights away and behavior. Even in his still, ghostlike state, he had the power to fling pain at her.
    “I don’t imagine he would appreciate my presence when he awakens,” she admitted, unsure of why she would tell his man such things.
    Edwin paused. “I believe it would bring him peace.” He moved past her toward the door. “Peace is something that rarely existed in his life.”
    Edwin escaped the room before Lily could press him. What had Edwin meant?
    She allowed herself to sit on the edge of the chair, ready to flee. She knew so little of what Robert’s life had been like prior to their marriage. He’d never been one for confidences, and after the…well, after , he hadn’t shared anything of his present, much less his past.
    She touched her fingers to the tips of his. His familiar warmth gave her a sense of belonging—fleeting though it would be.
    “Good morning. It’s time to wake up, you know.”
    He didn’t move, didn’t react.
    She settled into the chair, arm outstretched, their fingers providing a bridge. The urge to be frank bubbled in her throat. After years of attempts that ended with Robert escaping the room to