XXXV

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"He sweeps her hair back from her ears; he swings her above his head. He says she is his émerveillement. He says he will never leave her, not in a million years." Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

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XXXV.

Lily's body felt broken, bruised, and weak all at once. To even move a finger meant strain, and she still could not quite yet comprehend what had happened to her.

Her memories filled her mind like flashes. She could see Sir Richard. She could see the burning ship. She could vividly feel the cold, icy water just as soon as it had taken her body beneath the surface. The panic and fear had entirely consumed her, and those feelings were the last things that she remembered.

Had she expected to wake up? Lily had no idea how she had gone from drowning in a pitch-black ocean to lying atop a table in a strange room, but it would be a lie to say that her first thought upon waking was that this was not what she had expected Heaven to look like.

But her papa's voice had grounded her, had captured her racing mind, and had brought her consciousness back to the present. Though the pain that she felt did indeed mean it was not a heavenly consciousness, it was one that meant that she was alive.

But no sooner had she realised that her father was not her only companion, did Lily's pain have company also. The moment that she saw Callan, Lily was crippled by her guilt. Her vision was strained, but it was clear enough to make out the very complex gaze of Callan McCarthy.

How could she feel pain when her own actions caused Callan's ruin? An apology bubbled to her lips and tumbled from her mouth clumsily. She could offer him nothing more after all that she had taken from him. Her mind still might have been drowning in the water for how flooded it felt despite feeling secured by her father mere moments ago.

Words were spoken. Lily could hardly make sense of them. Was she speaking coherently? She couldn't know. Lily could not decipher the look in Callan's green eyes. Was he angry? Tortured? Sad?

The moment that Callan let go of her hand was the moment that Lily realised that he had been holding it. The next thing she knew, he was leaving the room, before disappearing out into the daylight outside.

"The moment you are strong enough, we will depart for Hertfordshire. The sooner I can get you to a real surgeon, the better," Adam fussed. "I am grateful to the man who treated you here, believe me, but a sickbed at home will certainly do well for your convalescence."

"What about Callan?" Lily found herself asking, her voice betraying her real fear.

Her father was most certainly the wiser. "Mr McCarthy will be just fine as well," he promised.

"He is ruined –"

"He is not ruined," Adam interrupted. "Whatever the fate of his cargo, it does not matter. A crime occurred, most definitely, and believe you me, my dear, I will be ensuring that Richard Frogmore experiences the full weight of the law. But I insured the cargo and the ship the moment I invested in it. I may make questionable business ventures with regards to my rank, some might say, but one could never argue that I was not savvy about it."

Lily felt a momentary flood of relief wash over her, but that was quickly replaced by a feeling of apprehension. "But Papa, did ... did Callan know that the ship and the cargo were insured?" Lily could so vividly see Callan's anger at learning that she had compromised his livelihood. The venom in his voice had been palpable. Surely, if he had known, he would not have been so angry?

Adam pursed his lips, before he subtly shook his head. "No, I did not tell Mr McCarthy that I had taken out an insurance policy. I did not think that it would be helpful knowledge in the beginning of our business relationship. I thought that he might interpret it as a rich man protecting himself.

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