The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

“I’ll summon Dr. Bramwell and—”

“I’ve already seen a doctor. My brother-in-law. He is the most respected doctor in the village, and he is quite knowledgeable. He…he told me that it may never happen, given how long we’ve been married while I remain childless.” She kept her face averted, unable to bear seeing the abject disappointment and betrayal in his eyes. “I knew before we married there was the strongest possibility of me not being able to produce an heir, but I truly thought it would be different this time.”

Finally, he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sobbed. “I was afraid, and I was hopeful that the problem wasn’t me. In one week, you made love to me more than my two husbands combined. I had hoped…how I hoped that was the reason I never swelled with child. I thought, with how often we were wrapped in each other’s arms, I would most certainly give you a child to love…an heir. I prayed the hollowness inside me would be filled.”

She had expected him to shout his anger and frustration. Instead, his face was a mask of cold, studied indifference, which hurt far worse than his anticipated anger. She did not deserve the honesty of his reactions now, but dear God, she needed them. “Do not hate me,” she said hoarsely. Which was an impossible request. “I…I’ve been reading, and I know it is your right to seek an annulment based on the circumstances.”

She braved looking at him and flinched. He’d stood, and there was a bleakness in his eyes she had never seen before. “Oliver…I…I don’t know what to do. I am not brave enough to walk over to you now and hug you, but that is what I want to do more than anything in this world.”

Her husband remained silent, and in that moment, Lily knew he would never be able to forgive her. She saw the dreams in his heart for a family shatter.

“I made a mistake, I should not have married you. I’ll leave… Oh God, I’ll leave. I will pack my trunk and leave immediately,” she cried.

Her husband was chillingly detached, and she wanted to howl from the pain tearing through her heart. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, then turned from the room and ran.

Lily ran away from her actions, the pain, the fear, and the cold condemnation in her husband’s eyes.

Chapter Eighteen

Oliver stared at the open doorway his wife had just fled through. Good God, how had it all come to this? It had never once occurred to him that such a possibility existed. Even when his mother had complained a few times that she heard no news of his nursery being filled, he’d firmly told her to direct her energies to her own life, considering she had moved to the dowager cottage in Kent.

There was piercing pain in his heart that he hardly knew what to do with. He left the chambers and made his way downstairs and outside into the bracing cold. Inhaling deeply, he walked along the path that would take him to the lake. Taking a wife and then having children was simply an expectation he’d had from childhood—the necessity of his rank and his duty to his title. He had craved a family, but the idea of a wife, a woman to fulfill his needs had been a more tangible dream than imagining children.

Over the last few months, though, he had thought of them, of the pride he would feel seeing Lily swollen, the joy of having a daughter as radiant and intelligent as her, of having a son who would possibly emulate his ways. The loss of a dream he had just allowed into his heart felt like a blunt stake being hammered through his chest. He touched the spot above his heart that ached like a physical wound.

And Lily had known there was the possibility of them never having a child, of them never fulfilling his duty.

He absorbed the pain filling his soul and was mildly shocked at the tears that smarted his eyes. How did his wife feel? She would have been aware of this loss for years. The pain she must have endured, and what she must feel now at revealing all to him, gutted Oliver.

Anguish rolled through him like poison coursing through his veins, and he wanted to release the brutal hold he had on his emotions and weep. For he understood that he had lost his Lily. She expected him to divorce her, and she would push him to it, for what lord did not hunger for a spare and an heir.

How could she even think for a moment he would let her go?

She would not allow him to comfort her, protect her, and share the pain. She would withdraw as she had been doing for the last week, cutting off her love and emotions from him. Ah, fuck.

A crunch against snow had him shifting to see who had intruded. Radbourne. He’d forgotten the earl and Lady Wimbledon had planned a visit. Oliver was going to be a discourteous ass, but now was not the time for guests.

The earl assessed him with a frown. “Good God, Ambrose, has someone died?”

The boulder pressing on his chest grew heavier. “No, but I fear now is not the time for a visit. Please extend my apologies to Lady Wimbledon .”

Concern flashed in his friend’s eyes as he said, “We had a row. She did not come down with me.”

Oliver turned back to the tranquil waters of the lake. Radbourne stood beside him, a silent support Oliver did not desire. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Radbourne did not reply for several moments, then he said, “The last time I saw such a look in your eyes, you had just learned of your father’s death.”

Oliver stiffened. There was some truth to the earl’s statement. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his soul had been ripped from his body. He had no notion of how to make Lily see that they could survive whatever storm life threw their way. Hell, he had no notion how they would survive this hurdle, but losing her was not an option for him. Everything in him clamored to go to her, but what would he say? Her eyes had seemed so desolate. “My marchioness is barren.”

“Christ.” There was a silence, then the earl said, “Will you divorce her?”

Disbelief scythed through Oliver. “Do you truly believe such a thing possible of me?”

“You have a duty to your title,” Radbourne rebutted softly. “No one would fault you if you sought an annulment on those grounds. Surely, she must have known. That, my friend, is fraud.”

He faced his friend. “I believe my wife arrived at the same conclusion.” How little faith she had in him and his love. “I do not feel betrayed that she did not tell me. What I feel is fear I will lose her.”