Everything is going to be fine, right?
Connor watched the Apple fall and get swallowed by the darkness and he waited for the metal sound that would tell him that the Piece of Eden had hit the bottom. But he didn't expect the loud scraping of rock against rock, that sounded instead. Connor looked back to the pedestal and saw it slowly sinking into the platform. The woman had disappeared. An uneasy feeling spread inside his chest.
I should get out of here, he thought, just when the ground beneath his feet started to shake and he leapt backwards, away from the dangerous edge, before he could fall into the abyss. The walls, the ground, the high ceiling, everything shook and made the rock crack and groan, as if it was fighting not to break down. The bridge between the platform and the maze lost this fight when Connor just decided to escape over it. Swearing quietly he turned around again and tried to find a way to safety in the darkness. The shaking platform made it hard to storm to the opposite rock wall which he searched for a way to climb it. He was inside a cave, deep underground. The only way possible seemed to be up, but the walls were too smooth for him to get a hold on. A deafening bang made Connor jump to the side as some rocks fell off the ceiling and crashed onto the platform, tearing parts of it down. The unexplainable earthquake stopped as suddenly as it had begun, but it had unstabilized the whole cave. It was collapsing and he had to get out if he didn't want to be buried alive.
Taking a few steps back, Connor looked around the walls and tried to find a way to escape. He should be lucky. Just when he looked at the left side of the cave, several rocks crashed down, only to become wedged together and create a more than unstable way to the wall. Where they had broken off, Connor could see a faint light. It wasn't blue like the light that had surrounded him down here. Was it daylight? Maybe this cave wasn't as far from the surface as he had thought. Whatever, it didn't matter. This could be his only chance.
Without thinking twice, Connor ran towards the edge of the platform that crumbled under his feet as he jumped. The rock he landed on shook and cracked dangerously so that Connor didn't hesitate to jump off again. Quickly and nimbly he leapt from rock to rock until taking a last daring jump at the wall. The falling debris had torn it open so his hands and feet had enough options to get a hold of. Immediately Connor began his ascend. Bit by bit he pulled himself upwards. Further and further until suddenly he heard rocks hitting rocks over his head. Just in time, Connor pressed himself against the cold wall when a big piece of rock fell past him. He believed to feel a light touch on his back and his heart raced. If the rock hadn't ricocheted somewhere above, it would have hit him.
Connor put his head back and threw a searching look up. It didn't seem like more rocks were coming down. Instead, the gap and the light shining through it were very close now. He had almost made it. Connor loosened his fingers from the edge he had clung to and gathered all his strength one more time to climb the rest of the way up. Only a little further.
Connor's fingertips dug into loose gravel when his hands grabbed the saving edge. He pulled his legs closer to his body, his feet found a hold on a narrow gap in the wall and he pushed himself up. He was gasping, and sweat was running down his face, but even when he had secure ground beneath his feet, he didn't take the time to take a breath. The strain hadn't been in vain. In front of him was a narrow corridor, more a high and deep crevice, straight to the light he had seen from the cave. Sunlight and a blue evening sky. It wasn't far. Connor took his bow and quiver off his shoulders and held them in each hand, before pushing sideways through the corridor. The adamant rock wall pressed either against Connor's chest or his back and he had to pull his head in to not hit it anywhere. But Connor didn't care. He only focused on his destination and also didn't think about the possibility of the corridor collapsing, if fate wasn't on his side. But it was.
It didn't take long until Connor could smell the salty scent of the sea, feel a light breeze on his face and hear the muffled crashing of waves. The corridor got wider and finally, Connor found himself on a narrow ridge between rocks and abyss. He stood high up on a cliff. The sea was far beneath his feet. Holding onto the wall with one hand, the Assassin leaned forward and tried to catch a glance of where he was. First, he only saw the sea, but when he leaned more forward and looked to the right, where the sun set behind the jungle's high trees, he saw the masts of a ship. Their ship. He would have to swim quite a bit, but he would be able to reach the beach where they had dropped anchor. The coast bent here so that he couldn't see it, but Connor knew it was there. His gaze slid down. If he jumped straight into the water, he would hit the rocks. But if he jumped off wide enough…what choice did he have? Connor didn't waste another thought on it. He pulled away from the edge, shouldered his weapons, took a deep breath, ran two precise steps and jumped.
The wind rushed past his ears, made his clothes flutter and tore the hood off his head while he fell towards the water. Moments before impact, Connor stretched his arms forward and shot through the surface like an arrow. When he came back to the surface, he ran his hand over his face and looked up. He could neither see the crevice nor reach it. The cliff was too steep and smooth to climb. This entrance to the temple was secure and even if the temple itself had collapsed, Connor decided to close the other as well. But for now, he had to get on land and return to the others.
Connor swam along the coast with quick, but precise strokes, followed the soft bend until the beach appeared ahead of him. From the distance, he could already see the small group of people and when he finally walked out of the water, he was noticed, too. One crewmember of the Ala del Águila loudly announced his return and made almost everyone at the beach aware of him. Of course, Lillian was among them.
From afar, he had already recognized her form, uneasily walking up and down, until she heard the crewmember's call. She stopped abruptly, gathered her skirts and hurried through the loose sand towards him. Connor quickened his steps, too and although he hadn't been the one worriedly waiting for her return, he felt relieved when she reached him, wordlessly embraced him despite his wet clothes and held him as tight as he held her. Not only because his escape from the temple had been a close call, but also because of the spirit's words about her. He couldn't forget them and now felt the need to simply hold Lillian and think that the spirit had been wrong.
"We were so worried," he heard Lillian whisper against his chest. "Suddenly the earth was shaking and we didn't know if it had something to do with the temple. If something happened to you. The entrance collapsed entirely. There was no way in or out." She pulled away far enough to look up to him. Some strands of her dark hair had loosened from her normally tight bun as if she had constantly run her hand through her hair. Now they covered her forehead or curled around her face. The sight made Connor raise his hand, without really noticing it and brush some strands off her forehead while answering.
"Yes, something inside the temple caused the earthquake, but nothing happened to me. Was anybody harmed?"
Lillian shook her head. "It wasn't strong and ended quickly. But the men said we should go to the beach, just to be safe if it happens again. So that we wouldn't be underneath the trees if it did."
Connor nodded slightly and looked over Lillian's head to the beach. Everyone seemed to be there and he was relieved to find Olivia's blonde hair. She was leaning against a weathered wooden wall that seemed like it had been part of a ship once and looked over at them. Caleb stood next to her, Emily sitting and playing by his feet in the sand.
"Olivia came back some hours ago," Lillian explained after she had followed his gaze. "She told us why you were separated and what happened before. So you found the temple?" She looked down at his belt and he heard her gasp before she covered her mouth with her hand and uttered a stifled laugh. "It's gone! It is really gone?"
With her last sentence, which had been more of a question, she raised her eyes and Connor saw a gleam in them that told him how happy she was. Incredibly relieved. Feelings that he hadn't felt, yet, since seeing the Apple fall into the abyss. Not even now. Although he had waited so long for this moment. It still didn't feel like a success. Maybe because all of it was still troubling him, but he didn't want to take her joy from Lillian and simply returned her embrace, when she wrapped her arms around and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
"Finally this is all behind us," she whispered and he could still hear this relieved, quiet laugh in her voice. "Now you don't have to concern yourself with the Apple, temples and spirits anymore. Now everything is going to be fine again."
He didn't know what to reply and so he didn't. Basically, she was right, but to him, it felt easier said than done.
Later that day, Connor reported everything that had happened inside the temple. Everything but what the spirit had said about Lillian. Without putting much thought into it, he had decided that she didn't need to know. It wasn't important and would only cause more harm than it was worth. Lillian didn't need to know that some long-forgotten civilization had considered her worthless. That she would have lost her life if he - Connor - wasn't so important to Those Who Came Before. To him, Lillian was more worthy than what they had seen in her. No matter why the Shroud had brought her back, he was happy that she was alive and spending this life with him. That she had blessed him with a healthy daughter, not only to secure his lineage. Emily had been born because her parents loved each other. Connor had never cared about the reason for Lillian's resurrection and he decided, that he still wouldn't care. He had always valued every day spent with her because he was well aware that this chance had always been taken from him and he wouldn't stop now. Nothing had changed. The knowledge about the Apple being gone did Lillian good and Connor didn't want to ruin it. Although she still wasn't better physically, she was less serious and thoughtful. Much more lighthearted and the feeling that something stood between them, since she had tried to throw the Apple off the cliff, was gone and they were both glad about it. Still, it didn't come as easy for Connor to look into their future with no worries. The chapter about the Apple and the temple was behind him and he didn't want to waste any more thoughts on it, but there were still issues he had to deal with. The Aquila needed to be repaired before he could bring his family and crew back home. But first, the ship had to be brought to Havanna, the repair itself had to be paid and it wasn't going to be a small amount of money. And then there were the things the local Brotherhood expected from him. He would take care of all of this next and start early.
"As soon as the hole is patched up, the Aquila should make it to Havanna, Capt'n. Wouldn't worry about it." Correy, a crewmember of the Aquila, picked some crumbs of bacon from his plate with already greasy fingers and pushed them into his mouth, while Connor regarded the map, that was spread between plates and glasses. The dim, flickering light of the candles that were placed everywhere in the hall, only illuminated it well enough to see the thick, black line. It marked the route, Correy and some others had planned from the sandbank, where the Aquila was still lying, to Havanna.
"And it is safe? No narrow passageways, hidden reeves or other surprises?"
"Fast and safe, as ordered, Capt'n."
"Good. Take it with you and give it to Faulkner when you arrive tomorrow. Tell him, I will come to you when the Aquila is ready." Connor rolled the map and handed it to Correy, who took it with a nod and an "Aye, Capt'n", before standing up, nodding at Lillian and leaving for the exit. Tonight he would enter a ship that would bring him to one of the small fishermen's islands close to the sandback. Connor had decided against accompanying him. They had left Tulum only yesterday after Connor had made sure that the temple had become inaccessible and they had dropped anchor at Fort Cabo de Cruz. The fort was under the control of the Brotherhood and the Ala del Águila was tasked to fetch some wares for Great Inagua. They would spend a night here before continuing their journey tomorrow. Back on Inagua, Connor intended to have a conversation with Consuela that he had kept delaying whenever she had tried to start it. It was about his future in the Brotherhood and the sooner he settled this matter, the better.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton? Are you with us?"
Connor pulled his eyes away from the open door Correy had walked through and turned them to Lillian, whose lips were adorned by a smirk. It seemed like he had been lost in thoughts.
"I am sorry. Did you say something?"
"I just asked how long it will take until the Aquila can sail to Havanna."
"I cannot say for sure," Connor answered and pulled his plate closer, which he had left untouched to study the map. The meat and fried potatoes on it were already cold when he ate them. "But it will not take much longer."
"That's good." Lillian propped up her elbows on the tabletop and folded her hands under her chin. Her eyes were fixated on the flickering flame of the candle in front of her and she looked as wistful as if she was reading something in the flame. Connor knew what it was before she even said it. "I am so looking forward to getting home."
Connor simply nodded. He would be glad, too, to return to familiar regions after being away for months. He was travelling a lot and saw much of the world, but each travel made him cherish the comfort of his home more. Even if this home was mostly represented by the people who were with him now.
"Jesus, Emily. You're learning too much from the men around you."
Connor couldn't hold back a smirk when Lillian grabbed Emily's hand and pushed the fork into it after the little one had dropped it onto her plate and intended to eat her potatoes with her bare hands instead. But Lillian stopped her just in time.
"Do not be too strict. She will learn how to use a fork eventually."
"Not if everyone around her eats like an animal." Lillian's gaze under raised eyebrows met him, as he just shoved a generous piece of meat into his mouth. Lillian never got tired of sometimes reminding him of his "rude table manners", but he always took it as a suggestion for a change of behaviour, rather than a real order. He was aware of Lillian's values, but he had never understood them. When he ate, he wanted to satisfy his appetite, not make an impression with how distinguished he looked doing it. He also thought that there were more important things for Emily to learn than how to properly hold a fork. But since Lillian's strictness in this matter wasn't to her disadvantage, he accepted his wife's aspiration to "have at least one civilized person at the table". Although Lillian always said it with a wink.
Now she attentively watched Emily reluctantly trying to spear the stubbornly wringling potato with her fork. The little face lightened up when she did it and could finally eat. Lillian smiled, too, kissed Emily's head and grabbed her own fork, only to steal a potato from Connor's plate. He raised an eyebrow and wondered if this wasn't breaking another rule, but he kept it to himself as he watched Lillian taking a bite from the potato and twisting the fork in her hand.
"It's cold," she said, not surprisingly and now the corners of Connor's mouth twitched up after all.
"You could get another serving. I am sure the kitchen has plenty."
Lillian shook her head. "I already had a second." She said it as if it was an outrage, but Connor had been more surprised that she had such an appetite at all. Normally she was the one watching him refill his plate, while she was already satisfied with one meal. But as long as she was hungry, she couldn't feel unwell and so he pushed his plate towards her, as she aimed for more prey with her fork.
When they finally retreated into the room they had been given, Connor was full despite Lillian's unapologetic theft and didn't have to lie down on his bed on the floor hungry. It consisted only of a pillow. There were only two slim plank beds that he had left for Lillian and Emily. After all, he had already spent his nights on less than that and he fell asleep as quickly as he would have on a feather bed. He slept peacefully, almost dreamlessly and when he woke up, the room was already illuminated by the rising sun. Its light fractioned in the greasy glass of the small and only window and threw an almost round square onto the stone brick wall. If there had been bars in front of it, Connor would have felt like he was in a prison cell, if it wasn't for the weathered furniture that could hardly create a comfortable environment. Since when was he paying attention to details like this anyway? Well, probably since he was travelling with his wife and child who he granted more comfort than he would ever need for himself.
On cue, Connor turned his eyes to Emily, who was sleeping soundly on the bed to his right and then to Lillian on his left, whose face he couldn't see behind the dark curtain of her hair. Only when he took a closer look, he realized that she had curled up into a ball and kept pressing her face into the pillow. Every time her breath left her lips in a hiss before she breathed in again with a quiet whimper.
"Lillian?" Connor sat up immediately and kneeled beside the low bed. He carefully brushed some strands of her hair aside, while his other hand covered her cold ones that clawed into the pillow. Lillian was pale and sweating, but she was unmistakably awake. She opened her eyes shortly, only to press her face back into the pillow with a whimper. The sight of her concerned Connor a lot. Yesterday she had been well.
"What is wrong? How do you feel?"
Lillian shook her head, but her hands let go of the pillow and she wrapped her arms around her stomach instead.
"Are you sick?"
Connor didn't get an answer. At least none he had been prepared for. Lillian set up in a jerk so that he winced back and he only saw her wide eyes when she leapt past him off the bed and stormed to the weathered chair that was used as a washstand. She had hardly grabbed the bowl on it before throwing up, coughing and gagging. Connor was by her side in an instant, holding her long hair out of her face and trying to support her, as she shakingly sank onto her knees while still gagging forcefully. She clung to the bowl with both her arms, as if it were her anchor on a stormy sea and still it was Connor, who held her upright until the nausea subsided. Above all, Emily had been woken up by the sudden hectic and had started to cry quietly when she saw and probably felt that her mother wasn't well. Sitting upright on her bed, she had stretched out her hands for her parents, opening and closing them while calling out for Lillian. It must scare her to see her writhing on the floor.
"It is fine, Tsiktsinenná:wen," Connor spoke calmly to her, while still holding the trembling Lillian in his arms, who slowly straightened up.
"I am sorry," she rasped after wiping her mouth with the rag Connor had grabbed from the chair and which turned out to be one of Emily's clean napkins. But this was hardly important now.
"Nonsense, do not apologize," he said and let the braid, he had held her hair in, slide through his hand. "What is wrong? Did you feel so sick all of a sudden?"
Lillian nodded and pushed the bowl away with shaking hands. "But I am better now. I'll...clean this up real quick."
She attempted to stand up, but Connor shook his head, pushed one arm under her knees and lifted her as he heaved himself onto his feet. "You will lie down now and I will go and get a doctor. You are ill."
"I am not." Lillian's protest was so weak that he couldn't take it seriously. She even seemed relieved and sighed quietly when Connor carefully placed her on the bed and handed her the drinking bottle he had taken out of their bag.
"Can I leave you alone for a moment?" he asked while she took a few tiny and very careful sips. He didn't like the thought of letting her out of his sight, but he had to ask around for the stationed doctor before getting him here and he wasn't sure how long it would take. Lillian only nodded and smiled a weak smile which was probably supposed to reassure him. He gently caressed her cheek and then took another bottle of water out of their bag to wash the bowl at the open window, before putting it back beside Lillian's bed and picking Emily up. The little one had stopped crying but was still sniffing quietly as she buried her head against his shoulder and looked at her mother when Connor turned to Lillian again. She had curled up but didn't seem to feel as sick as before. Still, he didn't want to waste time.
"I will be back soon."
She simply nodded again and it was more than difficult for Connor, to turn his back on her and leave the room.
"Mama come." Emily was visibly confused when Connor closed the door behind them and promptly stretched out her hands in the direction where she guessed her mother was. She was used to spending day and night with Lillian so she didn't seem to understand why this morning was different.
"Your mama is not feeling well," Connor explained gently and caressed Emily's thick, black locks. "She needs to sleep a bit longer but then she will come with us. You and Caleb, you will have breakfast now. Does that sound good?"
Emily nodded with a beam when she caught the smile he gave her to make her think of something else than her sick mother. She was still in an age where it was terribly easy. A smile, rocking steps and short leaps were enough to make Emily laugh happily and she was still untroubled when Connor handed her to Caleb who promised to take care of her. Only then Connor could leave to look for the doctor who was supposed to be stationed her.
Connor asked the first man he met and was promptly sent into another wing of the fort. He had to leave the building, cross the main courtyard and climb some steps to a tower, before finally standing in front of the doctor's door and knocking. The voice that asked him in sounded rough and unfriendly and belonged to an old man with a scruffy grey beard, and greasy hair but a remarkably neat suit. He eyed Connor over sceptically while taking his glasses off his chunky nose and wiping them with his sleeve.
"What is it? I am busy."
Connor couldn't stop himself from looking around the stuffed room. There were loads of shelves filled with books, bizarre tools and reagents that seemed to contain preserved organs which Connor hoped belonged to animals. A bed that was either used as a place to sleep or treat, a small table full of papers and another with more medical equipment and it was all so tidy and clean that Connor couldn't detect anything the doctor could be busy with.
"I wanted to ask you to come with me," Connor explained his presence. "My wife is not feeling well. I fear she might be ill."
"She is a woman." The doctor, whose name Connor didn't even know, huffed scornfully. "Women always feel some kind of way but that doesn't make them ill. Pick some flowers for her and she will feel better."
Connor frowned irritated. The last thing he needed was another European who didn't value women. "She threw up, is shaking and feels cold even though she is sweating. She also kept feeling dizzy recently. I hardly believe that flowers will help."
The doctor, who had demonstratively turned his back on Connor to push some books around, sighed theatrically. "So this is not the first day your wife is unwell and the best thing you come up with, is bringing her here instead of a place with comfortable beds?" He clicked his tongue as if he was scolding a child. It fueled Connor's anger, especially since he was well aware that he should have acted earlier. But it wasn't this stranger's business.
"Will you help her or not?" he growled. The doctor shrugged his shoulders and turned far enough to Connor, to look at him.
"Do you have money?"
Connor nodded, gritting his teeth. He had expected to pay the doctor, but he wouldn't like to give anything to this man. But then he wouldn't help Lillian either. So the doctor grabbed a leather bag and pointed at the door behind Connor as he said: "Go ahead."
They walked silently and Connor started to wonder if he should trust this man with Lillian's health at all. He hadn't made a good impression but he could still throw him out if he should do something that could rather harm than help Lillian. He wouldn't leave her alone with him. When he knocked on the door and entered carefully, Lillian was still curled up on her bed. The thin sheet, that she used as a blanket, was pulled over her nose and she was sleeping. Slowly Connor kneeled beside the bed and carefully laid a hand on Lillian's arm closest to him. She moved slightly, opened her eyes blinking and tried to sit up, as she looked over Connor's shoulder and noticed the doctor, who just closed the door behind himself.
"She should lie down," he ordered shortly, but Lillian did it only after exchanging a short glance with Connor. The Assassin was sure it was supposed to mean something like: "Who the hell is that?"
Connor squeezed her arm reassuringly and nodded to her, before standing up and stepping to the end of the bed, to make room for the doctor. He mumbled something about the bed being too low and kneeled reluctantly to examine Lillian. To do that, he pulled back the sheet without warning, until only Lillian's legs were covered, which made her utter an outraged sound and tug hectically at the shift she had been wearing for the night.
"How dare you?" she blustered, but the doctor wasn't impressed.
"I dare to examine you and if you would remain silent, we could get over and done with it," he replied, almost bored. "And don't worry: I don't intend to disrobe you. May I? I need to examine your stomach."
He raised his hands and Lillian's gaze slid to Connor, who had crossed his arms in front of his chest to suppress the urge to grab the doctor by his collar and pull him back. He nodded at her. He was here and would make sure that the other man's hands didn't get skittish. Visibly hesitant, she loosened her arms from her chest and sank back into the pillow.
"When was the last time she ate?" the doctor asked as he began feeling Lillian's stomach. It took a moment for Connor to realize that this question had been directed at him and not Lillian herself, who only frowned about this fact.
"Yesterday evening," Connor replied shortly.
"Did she feel unwell afterwards or when did the nausea start?"
"Only this morning when I woke up. I felt well the whole night." This time, Lillian answered without hesitation although the doctor still hadn't talked to her. The look behind thick glasses pulled away from the gnarled hands that were still examining Lillian's stomach and he pursed his lips. When he spoke, it was as if Lillian had never responded.
"Any other symptoms than those you mentioned?" He looked at Connor under raised eyebrows. "Stomachache? Headache? Any problems with urination? Is her defecation normal?"
Lillian gasped audibly while Connor frowned. What about this attitude? Lillian was also mentally present and didn't need him to speak for her.
"Why do you not ask herself? She knows better how she is feeling and I do not keep her company when she relieves herself."
"And to answer your questions: I am perfectly fine." You could hear that Lillian's state of health didn't derogate her sharp tongue. She clearly showed that she disapproved of the doctor's behaviour, but he seemed to decide to ignore every objection.
"I heard you are from the North," he remarked while feeling for Lillian's pulse at her wrist. "I'm sure the climate there is entirely different."
"That is…Ouch!"
When Lillian wanted to speak again, the doctor's hand returned to her stomach to feel it with more force than before. Connor could see his fingers dig into Lillian's side and he stretched out his arm immediately to grab the doctor's collar and pull him back, making him land on his backside with a groan.
"That is enough," Connor growled, grabbed the man's arm and made him stand up. "If you do not intend to examine and treat her probably, leave but I do not allow you to handle her like that."
The man had winced back with visible fear on his face when the Assassin stepped between him and Lillian angrily. But no sign of regret. He cleared his throat, still audibly nervous and clamped his bag under his arm.
"Not necessary. I got everything I need to know," he said, noticeably forcing himself to sound calm. Connor could practically smell his fear. "Your wife upset her stomach. It must have been her last meal. Furthermore, she isn't used to this climate which isn't doing her any good. She was already weakened so she was fair game to the indigestion."
He took another step away from Connor and moved towards the door with small side steps. Like a crab looking for a rock to hide. "I suggest a lot of rest. She should drink enough, water at best. Simple bread for food and it would be better if you return wherever you came from soon."
His undertone left doubts that the last sentence had been a sole medical advice for the sake of the patient. It rather sounded like he wanted them to leave the fort and stay away from him. Luckily Connor couldn't say that he wanted to prolong their stay here. Grimly he watched the other man open the door, but instead of walking through it, he stopped in the frame and cleared his throat.
"My payment?"
"You are lucky I leave you your teeth."
The doctor's eyes widened for a moment before he seemed to decide to not stretch his luck. He simply huffed before shutting the door behind him.
"You should have paid the man." Lillian rolled back onto her side and pulled the sheet up. Connor shook his head, his grim eyes still turned at the door.
"He does not deserve payment. He is a…" He paused and searched for the right Engish term. "A charlatan." Connor pulled his eyes away from the door and looked at Lillian instead, whose lips were adorned by a light smirk. "I am sorry. I thought he could help you. Maybe I should ask around for someone with the right skills, who knows how to use them."
"Nonsense." Lillian stretched out a hand and indicated to him to sit down, as he grabbed it. The bed cracked loudly under the additional weight when Connor slowly sank onto the edge, but it held up. "What he said in the end didn't sound so wrong."
Connor huffed. "He did not even examine you properly or acknowledge your troubles. He even hurt you on purpose."
Very gently, as if he feared he could cause her more pain, Connor laid a hand on Lillian's belly. She smiled and her cool hands moved over his.
"It's fine. Actually, I am feeling better already. Maybe he was right after all and I upset my stomach yesterday. With all the food I stuffed myself with."
Lillian chuckled and he knew she wanted to reassure him. She didn't look as well as she wanted him to believe. That was why he couldn't help himself but look her over sceptically, even when she laid her free hand on his cheek.
"Getting the doctor was the right thing to do. Even though he is a…charlatan."
"I want to help you get better."
"I know." Lillian's fingertips caressed his cheek, brushed down to his chin and back up to his temple. Automatically he began to copy her movements with his fingers on her belly. She sighed quietly and her eyelids fluttered shut as her grip around his hand tightened for a moment.
"That feels so good," she whispered. "As if you had healing hands."
Connor huffed quietly and looked down at his hand which seemed so huge and coarse compared to hers. Both of his were hardly healing or soothing at all. Especially not after everything these hands had done. But with an inner shake of his head, Connor pushed these thoughts aside and focused on Lillian instead. Carefully he expanded the movement of his hand until it drew gentle circles on Lillian's stomach. Her smile widened and for the first time, he saw a lively gleam in her otherwise tired eyes when she opened them and looked at him.
"It almost feels like back then, when I was…" She paused. Even her breath seemed to halt for a moment and Connor immediately stopped his caresses when her eyes widened and stared past him into the void.
"What is wrong? Are you feeling sick again?" Alarmed Connor bent down to the bowl that was still standing beside the bed and wanted to get up, to help Lillian sit, but she shook her head vigorously and pushed his hand with the bowl aside.
"No, it's fine. Everything's fine, I…I just…" She paused again and seemed to be lost for words, her lips parted. Suddenly erratic and agitated. Then she took a deep breath, shook her head again and smiled weakly. "I just remembered that…Emily is out there in the fort and you didn't even dress her properly. I don't want her to run around in only her shift and with no stockings." She gently caressed Connor's arm. "Could you look after her?"
Connor looked at her in confusion. He hadn't been worried about Emily since Caleb was taking good care of her. Yes, he had been in a hurry to get the doctor so he hadn't thought of dressing Emily, but no one would care and it wouldn't harm her. Still, he nodded. If it calmed Lillian…
"Will you be alright?"
She nodded after his concerned question and so he put the bowl back beside the bed, bent down to Lillian, placed a loving kiss on her forehead and stood up. When he had left the room and just wanted to close the door, his gaze fell back to Lillian. She was still lying on her side and looked down at her hand, still resting on her belly.