Page 105 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
“But Miss Tilly is his daughter.”
“I know,” Edith said, stroking Tilly’s hair. “But you didn’t hear the things he said.”
Christian hesitated but then nodded. “You are quite right,” he relented. “But if I were him, I would want to be told.”
Edith nodded but kept herself focused on Tilly. She felt that if she looked away, the little girl would simply fade.
She stayed there for the next hour, refreshing the cold compress when needed. Tilly was mumbling incoherently, in and out of sleep.
“Your Grace…?” she murmured.
“I’m here, darling,” Edith said softly, stroking her hair.
“I want… I want to go home…” Tilly mumbled.
Edith closed her eyes, her throat tight. “I know,” she said softly.
“I… want…” Tilly’s voice faded as she fell asleep again.
Edith sat back in the chair, blinking back more tears that threatened to spill over.
A small knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and looked up.
“Is she still asleep?” Luke asked as he entered.
“She is,” Edith replied.
Luke nodded and sat next to her.
“I understand you are worried,” he said softly. “But maybe she should be left to sleep while we all eat dinner.”
Edith looked out the window. The sun was now hanging much lower in the sky. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed.
“I won’t leave her,” she declared.
“Your Grace…” Luke hesitated. “You need to look after yourself, too.”
“I cannot leave her,” Edith said, her voice cracking.
Luke paused and sighed. He leaned close to Tilly and put something on the bed. As he pulled back, Edith could see it was the doll Laurence had bought her.
“I will have your dinner sent up here,” Luke promised as he stood up.
“Thank you,” Edith said, watching him go.
Dinner was sent up, and she ate it in silence. When she was done, she helped Tilly sit up and drink some cool tea, and tried to feed her some bread and soup, but the little girl shook her head and refused it.
As the sun dipped further, Edith could hear Ava and Christian whispering to each other in the hall, but didn’t get up to see them. She refreshed the cold compress as Tilly slept. Ava’s voice was soon replaced with a maid’s voice. She could hear the maid run down the stairs and the front door opening and closing.
He’s sending a letter. Perhaps he’s recalling the physician.
Edith shook her head. She could not become distracted by curiosities; she had to focus on keeping Tilly alive.
The night stretched on. Edith’s back ached from sitting in the chair, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Every time Tilly’s breathing changed, her heart seized. Every small movement, every mumble, sent a spike of fear through her.
Tilly stirred again. “Ma… ma?” She coughed.
Edith’s heart leapt into her throat. Tilly had never called her that before. She took Tilly’s hand in her own.
