The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

“I know…I am afraid to feel such hope. He said the severity of my symptoms indicate I might miscarry.”

He gathered her into his arms, one of his hands curving around her neck, fingers working to massage the tension out of her. “I’ll not allow it,” he vowed.

“You make me feel safe when you hold me.” Lily fitted her body more comfortably into his and inhaled his calming scent. “Oliver—”

“No, my sweet. No doubts, no fear. Only joy, thankfulness, and love. We’ll do everything that we must, and we’ll pray to God to keep our family, but we’ll not despair or lose faith. A child is such a miracle, it deserves no negative emotions, wouldn’t you agree?”

His assurance crept through her, stealing into her soul, filling it with warmth and love. “You are the miracle,” she whispered, her throat and heart tight with emotions.

“You won’t say that when I won’t allow you to even lift a book,” he said mildly.

He kissed the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth, before settling on her lips. Lily knew the next several months would be difficult, but she was no wilting flower, and she would do everything that was asked of her and more. “I’ll not lose faith,” she promised.

“That is all I ask, my sweet. That, and to never stop loving me.”

She trailed her fingertips over his face, gently touching every beloved line. “Never.”

Then her husband kissed her, holding her close…and nothing else mattered for a very long time.

Dearest Diary,

I’ve never been so happy or content. I write my final entry, for I believe it is time I put you away. I’ve written my deepest secrets and hopes within these pages, and my unhappiness and shame have been immortalized. I now wish to end my journey by sharing my greatest happiness with you. I’m the wife of Oliver Carlyle, the Marquess of Ambrose. And only last week gave birth to Caroline Elizabeth Carlyle and Alexander Edward Carlyle.

Cheers,

Lily Carlyle, Marchioness of Ambrose.

*****