"You fell in love with a storm. Did you really think you would get out unscathed?" Nikita Gill
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XXI.
Lily had been correct. She had barely slept a minute before the sun had risen the following day. She rose from her bed well before the maids would come in, and she found herself sitting at her writing desk. Before she had even properly taken a breath, she had drafted a letter of resignation.
She had battled with her conscience all night, more so than ever before. Her harmless little lie had snowballed so quickly out of control that Lily felt as though she was handling something ablaze, and it was very rapidly burning her fingertips.
If she dropped it, however, her entire world would catch alight, and not only her world. That was the battle she was fighting most. The sheer damage that the truth would do.
Lily knew that the only option that would cause the least amount of damage for the present was to resign. That was not to say that she would not confess the truth to both Callan and her father in the future, but for now, Lily knew that Callan needed her father far more than he required her services.
Lily would debut under her birth name anyway ... and she would make herself very scarce if ever her father entertained Callan at Ashwood Place now that she had moved to her parents' house for the Season. She was certain the Season would pass in a blue anyway, and she would be safely home in Hertfordshire in no time.
Lily dressed herself simply and brushed her hair back into a bun with no embellishment. Looking upon her face in the mirror, it was obvious that she had not slept. She looked tired and anxious, and that was because she was. And she had no one to blame but herself.
Despite now being with her parents, her uncle's carriage still arrived promptly to take her to her harp tutor's home. Lily was thankful that her family had not risen at the time she was to depart as she was certain that her appearance would have roused their concerns, and Lily had very few untruths left in her.
As the carriage jostled along, Lily gripped the folded letter in her hands so tightly that she was probably smudging the ink beyond recognition. Nonetheless, she tried to remain calm by taking some deep breaths.
Once Lily had departed the carriage and had rounded the corner to walk towards Callan's office, she was surprised to see him waiting in the open doorway. He was standing, hands on his hips, appearing to search through the processions of people going about their business that morning. But the moment he spotted her walking over, he smiled ...
... and Lily's heart felt the immense pain of it.
Callan did not wait for Lily to reach him. In fact, he leapt down the few steps in one large jump, before he jogged over to her. He cared not that they were quite in public as he surprised Lily by pulling her into a tight hug. The differences in their height meant that Callan had to lean over quite a bit to embrace her, but he had no time for being a hunch back. He straightened his posture and brought Lily up with him, the ground disappearing from beneath her feet.
There was excitement in his embrace, but there was also such tenderness, and Lily could have quite easily gotten lost in that moment. She almost did. She had never before been held in such a way, and never by someone that she cared about the way she did Callan.
And it was at the strength in his arms, yet the softness that she sensed, that made Lily wonder if, perhaps, her feelings were returned.
"I feel like I've been waiting an age for you to arrive this morning, and yet I know you are exactly on time," Callan murmured, his voice muffled thanks to the tufts of Lily's hair in his face. It was only then that he released her, and as Lily's feet were once again on the earth, so were Callan's.
He appeared suddenly quite shocked at himself, and he seemed to realise that he needed to put distance between them ... particularly as they were in public. And yet he did not. He didn't move an inch. One would not be able to fit a piece of paper between the figures of Lily and Callan.
"I need to thank you," Callan continued quietly, his green eyes never straying from Lily's. "If it weren't for you, I would never had followed through with the meeting I had yesterday. I am not too proud to admit that. But I went because I wanted ... I wanted ... well I wanted you to be pleased with me. You made me want to try again.
"I met with Prince Whatshisname. The Duke of Ashwood, he is."
I'm familiar, Lily thought with a gulp.
"Oddest man I've ever encountered, but if he's honest, and I'm having to trust with every last penny I have that he is, I'll be able to turn my business around, get out of debt, get out from under my grandfather, I can pay you ..."
Lily could hear the excitement, the hope, in Callan's voice. She could not put into words the relief that she felt that he no longer sounded like the defeated man he was a few days earlier. He sounded much like the man he truly was. Inspired, motivated, determined ... the complete salt of the earth, fine man he really was. The sort of man who deserved good fortune.
"He's not odd if he's betting on you," Lily replied in a very timid voice. She had not meant to sound so frightened. "That makes him clever."
But Callan noticed Lily's tone of voice immediately, and she saw the concern wash over him. She recognised this expression on him from when he had discovered Sir Richard accosting her. She saw that his protective instincts had been triggered.
"What's the matter?" he demanded to know. "What's wrong?"
"I ..." I need to resign. "I ..." Say it, Lily. "I am ... tired ... after yesterday." It wasn't a lie. Lily was exhausted. But she was also a wicked coward, and she was well on the way to loathing herself for this entire experiment.
Callan seemed to wait a moment before he accepted her response, but she could still see that he was a little wary of her state. Nevertheless, he then fished his hand into the pocket of his coat and brought out an item that immediately caught the sun and shone. Whatever it was, he held it in his pam, before he opened his hand before her.
They were still stood so close to one another, that the small, delicate item was suddenly right in Lily's eyeline. It was a necklace. A silver cross necklace, though Lily recognised that the cross was not one that she was typically familiar with.
The chain itself was dainty and appeared as though it had been recently polished. The cross incredibly intricate. It was embellished with tiny twists of metal that almost looked like vines climbing up a trellis. Surrounding the cross was an equally ornate circle. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and Lily was quite speechless.
"For your birthday. A bit of Ireland for you. It's a Celtic cross. You don't have to wear it if you hate it. I imagine you probably have nicer jewellery. I didn't buy this. I don't know it's value. It's my mother's. She gave it to me before I left Ireland for luck. I didn't know what to give you for your birthday but seeing as you brought me some very good luck, I thought you might like it. If you hate it, you can tell me."
Callan was rambling, and rather nervously at that. It was almost as though he was trying to talk Lily out of finding his gesture meaningful. But the sincerity at the meaning behind Callan's gift was not at all lost on Lily. And she felt more wretched than ever before. How could that be possible? Callan was gifting her something that belonged to his mother. He was giving something so precious to a woman who was lying to him.
"I love it," Lily gushed breathlessly, and the moment she did, she saw Callan's smile reappear.
"You do?" his eyebrows rose.
As his fingers went to the clasp, Lily reflexively stopped him, and the feeling of her hand on his made him freeze. "I can't accept it." How she had managed to find the words, she didn't know, but she needed them.
"Of course, you can," Callan urged. "I know it's not fancy –"
"It's beautiful," assured Lily, "and I am so grateful that you thought that you could part with something so precious to someone like me –"
"Someone like you?" interrupted Callan. "Are you daft, woman? What are you talking about?" Callan's face suddenly fell, and he said, "What're you crying for? What's wrong? Tell me what's troubling you, please?"
Lily had felt her eyes welling up and she had no control over them.
"Was it something I said? Was it something I did?"
"No!" insisted Lily. "No, nothing like that. I can't accept such a precious heirloom because ... because ... because I have to resign today." She could scarcely believe that she had managed to say the words, but she had said them.
That was what finally made Callan step away from her, and he did so in complete shock. His mouth was agape as he stared at her and the necklace hung from his fingers, the chain dangling and swaying in the slight breeze.
"Why?" he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion.
Because I'm a fraud. Because I am the daughter of the man who is going to save your business, and if you find out, you will throw it away because the betrayal will confirm your prejudices against people like me.
But instead, Lily's soft, fragile voice said, "I ... I have a family obligation that I must attend to."
While not a lie, as the Season was well and truly upon them, Lily hated the half-truth. She hated all of this. She hated the hurt that she could now see written all over Callan's face. This was hurting him. Lily had wanted to prevent this. She was trying her best, and yet everything she did was wrong.
"What obligation? Is someone making you leave? Is that why you are upset? Is someone threatening you?" Callan fired off his questions so quickly that his accent began to blur the words, but in her time spent with him, Lily was able to decipher what he was asking.
"No, I promise I am alright," she insisted, knowing that she appeared the farthest thing from alright. "No one is making me leave. It is my choice."
"But I don't want you to leave. I can pay you," Callan's voice remained ever so thick. "The Duke is sending me the contract today."
"And that's wonderful," Lily urged. "I can't tell you how pleased I am for you, Callan. You deserve this and every good thing." Never had she spoken more truthful words than those.
Callan wasn't to know that Lily was not one of those good things.
Callan's arms dropped to his sides, the necklace still swinging, as he inhaled several uneven breaths. Perhaps Lily's eyes were deceiving her, but his eyes almost appeared glassy. Was he crying? Had she wounded him so cruelly?
Lily's heart spasmed in her chest. She felt it being pulled in every direction at once, as though one final pull might make it split into forever broken pieces.
"Is there anything that I can say that will make you change your mind?" Callan appealed in a rather gentle voice. Though his tone wasn't tender. It was wounded. "It's so hard to find secretaries who aren't utter eejits."
In an exchange that made Lily feel like it would be literal years before she was ever able to laugh again, she did. She laughed as she used her sleeves to wipe her eyes. "I nearly burned your office to the ground. My replacement will most certainly be an improvement."
Callan surprised her then by stepping forward, returning to the close embrace that they had been gathered in minutes ago. He wouldn't hear a word of refusal, and he battered Lily's hands away as he undid the clasp of the Celtic cross, and he fixed it around her neck, his fingertips lingering at the nape for several moments longer than needed.
And as he did so, he looked down upon her with a new sort of intensity. "You cannot be replaced," he promised her.
Lily's lip trembled. "You shouldn't give this to me." Her fingers brushed over the chain on her collarbone before she reached the pendant.
Callan ignored her comment. "Can I write to you?"
It happened then. It happened and she felt every fibre of her heart break. A wave of pain, grief, and despair flooded her, and Callan saw this. He witnessed Lily practically collapse on the pavement. He held her, supporting her weight as all she could do was shake her head.
And as much as he was supporting her, Lily could see that Callan's own confusion and hurt at the situation was growing. Why couldn't he write to her? What reason would Lily had to deny him such a basic request? All sorts of questions like those had to be flowing through his mind. Only Lily knew him, and she knew that he was being far crueller to himself. And she was powerless to stop him, and it was all her own fault.
"Am I just never to see you again?" Callan then demanded to know, and edge to his tone.
Oh, that very notion was horrible. And yet that was her objective, was it not? She needed to take herself out of the equation. Lily needed to disappear ... and that meant never seeing Callan ... not until he was secure enough to hear the truth ... and Lily had vanquished her own cowardice.
"You shouldn't give this to me," Lily said again, sounding so completely and utterly pathetic.
"You'll have it and I'll tell you why," Callan snapped.
As Lily summoned the bravery to look into Callan's eyes once more, she was met with his lips upon hers. His hands were suddenly in her hair, on her waist, and clutching her close as though she were essential to his very being. His lips guided hers expertly, and Lily lost herself completely in his embrace, caring not for anything other than Callan in that moment.
But it ended, and all too quickly. Callan released her, before he stepped backwards once more, and he murmured, "That's why I gave you the necklace," before he turned on his heel and left her standing in the street to return to his office.
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Man, what is it with me and my Chapter 21s? It's like I have a disease that means I have zero chill when it comes to writing this numbered chapter. But then I also have a disease where every other chapter must be filled with pain and suffering and drama, so I'm not sure. Lemme google.
Okay, after a quick search, I've diagnosed myself with Readerstearsitis. It's incurable. And the only treatment to manage symptoms is to keep drinking my cups of tears. Thank you so much for filling my cup at this trying time xxx
God, I make myself cackle. At least I make one person laugh lol. (Myself).
I have one week left of summer holidays. How? Where did that time go? I have two appointments tomorrow afternoon, which if you have ADHD, you'll know that afternoon appointments are killers as the rest of the day means you're in an endless wait cycle until the appointment, so Monday's gone. Tuesday bf and I are setting up my classroom. Thursday another appointment for physio on my ankle as a result of falling down the stairs. I feel like this week is already gone omg. Before I know it I'll be making my lunches for the week and be getting up at 6am.
Let's see about doing 1 or 2 more chapters before I go back to work. I'm old, you guys. I can't do daily uploads anymore. I turn ... *cough* *cough* THIRTY this year. Jeez. Started at 17 and now we're here.
Okay, I need to get my old geriatric butt to bed. Night xxx
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