L &A: 2

Continued:

The trip back was not nearly as pleasant as the journey out had been, with her potential trouble hanging over her. Running along the uneven terrain she burst into the kitchen, hair flying madly about and her face flushed bright pink. Running was not something the Spencer girls typically did.

“Lord have mercy!” Lucy exclaimed, seeing the sigh of her mistress. “You better hurry and change. Your father will be down any minute… Martha’s just about done with the table.”

“Is Rose--?”

“No, your sister’s still doing her toilette. You are certainly lucky. But hurry.” Lucy turned to the griddle cakes as Lily scampered up the back stairs.

Entering her bedroom she flung off the soiled dress, hoping Carrie wouldn’t notice it until later, and chose a new one, more befitting of a young lady than a runaway gardener. She powdered her face in a vain attempt to bring down the color and ran her hands through her hair, arranging it as best she could. She didn’t have time to do a more proper job of it.

Smoothing her skirt and adjusting her petticoats, she made her way down the front staircase this time, trying to appear as if she’d just woken up and hadn’t been gallivanting about the countryside for hours.

“Out this morning?” Lily froze at the bottom of the stairs as her mother emerged from the music room, her voice mildly reproaching her daughter.

Lily ran her hands over her skirt nervously. “What makes you think—“

Her mother came over and plucked a small leaf from Lily’s hair. “This?”

She blushed, hard. “It was such a beautiful morning—“

Her mother held up her hand in what Lily thought was her most imperious gesture. But she was smiling. “I understand. Just as long as your father doesn’t know you were unaccompanied.”

Lily exhaled, grateful for her mother’s understanding. “Thank you.”

She smiled and took her daughter’s hand. “Come, I think breakfast is ready. At least I think I hear Rose coming out…”

“She takes longer than anyone I know to get ready,” Lily grumbled.

“She’s just particular about her looks,” her mother said mildly as they entered the large dining room. It could seat 50 at a formal dinner, and the table was too big for their morning breakfasts, with just the four of them; well, five, once Richard returned this afternoon.

Her father was, as usual, seated at the head of the table and reading the London paper, his half glasses perched on his long nose. His graying hair was brushed back and his waistcoat was, as usual, perfectly pressed and tailored.

He looked up as the women entered. “Good morning, Emma,” he said, kissing his wife’s hand as she took her seat next to him. “Productive practicing?”

“Adequate,” she said. Her mother has never given up her love of music and still practiced her piano every morning before breakfast. She often performed at church and at local functions.

Lily took her seat across from her mother, her napkin draped across her lap, as she waited for Martha to bring in the breakfast platters. Large breakfasts were a staple of the Spencer household.

“Sorry, sorry.” Lily turned to see Rose bustling in, her hands tidying her strawberry blonde hair as she took her seat next to her mother. “Carrie was so slow this morning. And she didn’t even have to dress you,” she said pointedly to Lily.

Lily shrugged. “Maybe the storm kept her up last night.”

Rose tsked. “Well maybe she should go to bed earlier.”

“Oh, Carrie’s always been afraid of storms,” Emma said mildly. “You should take it in stride, Rose. Be glad you have a lady’s maid to help you.”

“I don’t know if Albert will be able to afford one,” Lily teased. Rose glared at her and twisted her engagement ring. Albert Lennox, a young Army Captain, was Rose’s intended, and they were to be married in December, when he returned from his station in India.

“Albert says that I will have plenty of help,” Rose said primly. “He wouldn’t leave me to my own devices.”

“Good thing,” Lord Spencer muttered. Rose shot him a confused glance, but her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the breakfast trays. Lily smiled at Martha, who winked at her, but Rose gave a heavy sigh.

“What is it?” Edward asked, in a tone that suggested her didn’t really want to know what was burdening his eldest daughter.

“Must the food always be so heavy? I’ll never fit into my gown at this rate,” Rose said as she picked at a platter of bacon and ham steaks.

“Then just have eggs, or something,” Lily said as she served herself. “You’re thin as a twig, Rose, always have been. Don’t worry so much.”

“You are not the one getting married,” Rose shot back as she gave herself a miniscule helping of eggs. “Is that dirt in your hair?”

Lily quickly brushed her head before her father had time to look at her. Rose sighed. “You’ll never get married with behavior like this.”

“Rose, stop it,” their mother said mildly. “Lily’s younger than you are, she’s only just out. Give her time.”

“Well this is interesting,” Edward commented, shaking out the paper. “Seems like one of our neighbors has returned.”

“Is it Ralph Ellison?” Rose asked, excited. “He’s such a catch. Too bad he had to take up the church…”

“You’re engaged, Rose,” Lily admonished her. “Stop setting your cap at every bachelor in the county. Indeed I never will get married if you keep this up.”

“No, not the Ellison boy. Archie Craven.” Lily colored at his name and hoped no one noticed.

Emma gave a gasp of surprise. “Archibald? I haven’t seen him since before Margaret died. That’s a surprise.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “He’s awfully solitary. And so rude. And his back!”

“Rose!” Emma said. “I raised you better than that.”

“What’s wrong with his back?” Lily asked.

Rose laughed. “Obviously you’ve never met him. It’s evident right off.”

“I have met him. This morning, as a matter of fact.” Oh, dear… Lily squeezed her eyes shut. Now she was in for it.

“You have?” Her father asked. “Where?”

“Oh, he was passing by on the road. I was out walking.”

“Out working, you mean,” Rose said. She rolled her eyes and took a tiny bite of egg. “You just can’t leave that dirt patch alone since Father gave it to you.”

“It’s not a dirt patch,” Lily said. “At least it won’t be once Ben and I are done with it.”

“Girls,” their father said, sighing. “Lily, you know I don’t like you to be out unaccompanied.”

“I’m sorry, Father, but it was such a perfect morning—“

“Your dress is probably all dirty,” Rose said.

“--and I just had to see how things were getting on.”

Edward sighed and nodded. “All right. Just don’t make a habit of it? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Lily nodded, grateful to be spared a lecture. “Anyway, I thought he was quite nice.”

“Nice?!”

“Yes. We talked.”

“He spoke to you?” Emma said.

Lily nodded. “You seem surprised.”

“Well, your sister didn’t put it in the best way, but she was right; he is a bit, um, reclusive. Hardly speaks to anyone. I’m amazed you got some conversation out of him.”

“He was quite pleasant, really. And I thought he was rather good-looking.”

Rose gave an outright laugh. “Lily, you must have been dreaming. No woman in her right mind would call Archibald Craven good-looking, no matter how much money he has.”

“And that he has,” their father noted. “The paper says he’s to inherit 50,000 a year.”

“Fifty thousand?” Emma said. “I didn’t think Misselthwaite was worth that much!”

“Oh, Henry has done numerous improvements. And his investments in mining have done well. Used to be worth just half that.”

“Money or no, he’ll never marry,” Rose said. “No woman will have him.”

“Why?” Lily asked. “He did seem a bit aloof, but---“

Rose sighed impatiently. “Obviously you missed the lump on his back. He’s a hunchback, Lily, has been since he was born. Deformed. How could it have escaped you?”

Lily thought a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t notice. I thought he had a nice face. His eyes are lovely. Dark brown.”

“You were gazing into them too much to notice the glaring deformity, apparently.”

“It’s not that bad, Rose,” Emma said. “Honestly. You make him sound like Hugo’s protagonist.”

“If he’s a nice man, why should it matter?” Lily said hotly.

Rose arched her eyebrow and studied her younger sister. “Are you in love with him?”

“No! We only had one conversation, for heaven’s sake.” Lily crammed some of the ham into her mouth to avoid speaking further.

Rose nodded archly. “A ha. You’re taken by him, aren’t you?”

“If he was kind to Lily then she should find him a nice man,” Edward interjected. “I like any man who treats my daughters well.”

“Perhaps we should invite them for dinner, now that Archibald is back,” Emma suggested. “Maybe after my confinement.”

“Mother, do you really need to be confined?” Rose asked.

Edward looked at Rose sharply. “Yes. Doctor Craven suggested it.”

“Dr. Craven?” Lily asked. “Is the owner a doctor?”

“No, his youngest son, Archie’s brother, Neville. He’s just taken the oath and begun to practice,” Emma said. “Haven’t you met him?” Lily shook her head. “Well when he comes today, you shall meet him. He’s a nice temperament.”

“Unlike his brother,” Rose muttered. “Too bad he isn’t the heir.”

“Then he most certainly wouldn’t be in medicine,” Edward noted. “Men with 50,000 a year don’t need a profession.”

“Wish someone would leave us fifty thousand a year. Or even a fifth of that,” Rose moaned.

“Rose Spencer, don’t you dare be ungrateful for all your father has done for you. You’ve been brought up quite well and you know it,” Emma said sharply.

Rose looked down, chastised into silence at last. Their father’s fortune was set on their brother, and there wasn’t much left of it now, since the costs of running the hall and keeping up the family had meant there would be little for the girls’ dowries. But their family name and lineage kept them admitted into the best circles.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Mrs. Wentworth, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway. “Dr. Craven is here to see you…”

Emma swallowed her water quickly. “Already? I have never met a more punctual man.” She rose, removing her linen napkin from her lap and smoothing her gown. “All right. I will see him in my morning room.” She looked at Lily. “Lily, you will accompany me this morning.”

Obediently Lily rose and followed her mother into the bright parlor she used to receive guests. It had a long, deep velvet couch that her mother claimed was “perfect” for Dr. Craven’s examinations, and several tapestry chairs near a Queen Anne table that were excellent for the tea she provided afterwards.

When they entered, a tall, thin man stood quickly and gave a little bow before kissing Lady Spencer’s hand. “You look well this morning, ma’am,” he said, his eyes on her abdomen. “Not too much longer.”

“I hope not. This one has been a burden to carry, I don’t mind saying.” She settled herself on the couch as Lily moved to one of the side chairs, catching the doctor’s eye.

“Who is this?” he asked, approaching her. She offered her hand, as always. “Another daughter?”

“That’s my Lily,” Emma said, pride in her voice. “She just turned seventeen in January.”

“How do you do,” Lily murmured, eyes cast down. Certainly he was not so handsome as his brother. But he had a certain charm.

“Neville Craven.”

“I had the opportunity of meeting your brother this morning,” Lily noted as Neville opened his bag and prepared for the examination.

“Archie?” Neville’s head bobbed up in surprise. “That’s odd. He didn’t mention it.”

Lily felt a strange pang at the thought of not being mentioned. She had hoped the visit had made some impression. Neville continued, “But I hardly had a chance to speak with him. He arrived shortly before I left. He’s been in London for months, you know, handling the business affairs of our father.”

“How is he, poor man,” Emma asked as Neville began to examine her.

His face changed and became grave. “It is not a good case. The paralysis from the fever has left him much diminished. He hates to go out and sends Archie in his stead.”

Odd, since he avoids people, Lily thought.

“Any pain?” he asked. Emma nodded.

“At night, a little. I’m guessing she’s just active.”

“She?”

“I think it’s a girl. I’ve carried two others, Dr. Craven, I think I’d know.”

“Far be it for me to question mothers,” he said in easy surrender.

“Lily, I think, would like another sister,” Emma said.

Lily blushed. “I don’t care what you have, mother. I’m fine with either. I know Richard is quite longing for a brother.”

“He’s never here, I don’t think he’d even notice the new baby if he wasn’t home right now,” Emma said blithely. She looked at Dr. Craven and added, “my son, Richard, comes home from his Eton term today.”

Neville nodded, concentrating on the baby’s size. “Now this might hurt…” he gently prodded her abdomen, feeling the outline of the baby within. “She seems to be positioned just right, and about the right size. The pain is unusual. I will consult with another colleague and see what I can find out.”

“Oh I’m sure it’s nothing,” Emma said, waving her hand to dismiss the comment. “Really, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“You’re older than I’d like—no offense, Lady Spencer, but it’s true—and I want to be cautious.” He rose, adjusting his glasses and waistcoat. Lily noticed that he always seemed to be fidgeting with something, like he wasn’t quite secure in himself.

“Whatever you think best,” Lady Spence said. “I won’t argue with you.”

“Good. I’d say you’re due in about another month.” He rose from the couch. “I will be back in about two days with an answer for you. I want to know if you have any more pain. We could end up having an early delivery.”

“Rose was early, Lily was late and Richard was right on time,” Emma said. “Nothing my children do surprises me anymore.”

Neville laughed. “Well, good. I like that.”

“Will you stay for coffee?” Emma asked.

Neville shook his head. “As much as I’d like to,” he said, stealing a quick glance at Lily, “I must go home. Archie will want to talk to me, I’m sure.” He packed his bag and nodded to the ladies. “Until later week,” he said.

“Mrs. Wentworth will see you out,” Emma said. The doctor nodded, smiled at Lily, and left.

“Well?” Emma asked once she heard the front door close. She sat herself at the tea table and rang the bell. “Coffee, Mrs. Wentworth?” The maid nodded.

Lily sat across from her. “Well what? He is not as well-spoken as his brother.”

“Hmm. I had thought the reverse would be true.”

Lily blushed. “He’s quite a nice man. I don’t know what Rose was talking about.”

Emma shook her head. “Rose is quite taken with surface things, you know that. If a man isn’t handsome, he isn’t worth her time.”

“But he is fantastically wealthy, apparently.”

Emma shrugged. “That apparently does not make up for his appearance.”

Mrs. Wentworth brought in the coffee tray and Lady Spencer began to pour. “You’ve always been my happy child, Lily. So friendly and open. I’m not surprised you and your sister have different tastes in suitors.”

“Oh, I like Albert all right,” Lily said, thinking of her sister’s distinguished military fiancé. “He dances well and likes to laugh. He’s more human, somehow, than Rose. Kinder.”

“I agree.”

“I also heard he wants a lot of children,” Lily said as she took the steaming cup from her mother.

Emma sighed. “I have heard that as well. And Rose isn’t as well-dispositioned towards children as you are. Hopefully she’ll be more so after the baby is born.”

“Assuming they have children.”

Emma looked at Lily sternly. “Rose knows her duty. She’ll do it.”

“Besides, she can always pass it off to a nanny,” Lily said cheerfully as she nibbled on a biscuit.

“Lil!” Rose’s voice echoed through the house. “It’s time for lessons!”

Lily sighed and finished her coffee. “Isn’t Rose too old for lessons, now?”

Her mother smiled. “I believe she’s working on her trousseau.”

“Her embroidery is beautiful. It doesn’t need more work.”

“Well she has a lot to do. Albert apparently has quite a house in India.”

“Will they be going back?” Lily asked.

Emma nodded. “Unfortunately. Albert has quite a station there, he’s hoping to rise faster in the foreign service. Younger son, you know. Has to make his way somewhere.” Lily could see the disappointment etched on her mother’s face. “But he has said they won’t go right away…they’ll be a few months here before he’s due back.”

“That’s comforting,” Lily said. “Well I’m off for more French and Latin. And probably embroidery…which I do not do as well as my sister.”

“Then you can improve,” Emma said wryly as her daughter kissed her on the cheek. “And if you go out again today—take Ben, will you?”

Lily rolled her eyes behind her mother’s back. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know you’re exasperated, young lady. We’re just thinking of you,” she admonished.

Lily smiled. “I know.”