L&A: 10

The medications prescribed by Neville’s teachers proved effacious, and soon Lily was doing much better, even with eating, which greatly pleased Neville. “I’ll be able to send you home soon,” he said as he took her pulse one morning.

She smiled. “I’ll be glad of that. I’m sure Rose is going crazy without me there.”

Neville laughed. “She is. She wants you home as soon as possible.”

“How’s mother?”

“Doing well. She’s due any day now; your presence at home will be a help. Rose is a bit squeamish.”

“She always has been,” Rose said as Neville began to pack up his medical paraphernalia. “Wasn’t there when Richard was born, although I was fascinated. Father wouldn’t let me watch.”

“This time you can be right there,” Neville promised. “I’ll need a hand.”

“Doesn’t Archibald help?”

Neville guffawed. “Archie? Help? No. He says he’s had enough medical experience. He doesn’t need to see more. Can’t say I blame him,” he added as an afterthought.

“Oh.” Lily seemed disappointed. Surely, Neville thought, she doesn’t want him there? She can’t be attracted to him.

“I would say, provided you don’t have any further problems, I can let you go home in two days. Is that all right with you?”

Lily nodded, smiling broadly. “That would be wonderful.”

“Excellent. Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, and Neville stood. “I will have lunch sent in soon.”

“I’m becoming spoiled. Lucy’s fare is something I’ll miss.”

“Archie says your cook is no slouch.”

“No. But she’s not Lucy.”

Neville grinned. “Try to sleep a bit, before lunch.” She nodded and Neville left her. But she had no intention of sleeping—she’d been doing far too much of that lately. It was a lovely day, and the large grounds of the Manor beckoned to her. She was sure she could get dressed and head out for awhile before anyone noticed she was gone. This was a cavernous house—she wouldn’t be missed.

She timidly got out of bed, aware of her still wrapped ankle, and knew she’d have to use the crutches Neville had given her; the cast wouldn’t come off for another few weeks. But she was determined to get dressed.

Her legs were weak from the time she’d spent in bed, and getting into a fresh dress required an enormous amount of energy. She found a stocking and one of her shoes, and attempted to maneuver herself to the door without drawing unwarranted attention to herself and her movements.

She propped the door open and swung through it, glad that her room was on the first floor and that she knew where the scullery entrance was, so she could go out there and hopefully not run into Seward or someone else in the main hallway.

“Sneaking out?”

She turned, stumbled on the crutches and her body tipped toward the floor; Archibald sprang forward and caught her. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for this, yet.”

She turned crimson. “I want to go out…being stuck in here all day is not the most appealing thing.”

“I know,” he said. “But I don’t think you’re quite steady enough. Maybe I could take you out later? I know we’ve got a chair hereabouts…I just have to find it…”

“I don’t want to put you out,” she said, as she tried to right herself. “I’m sure you’re busy—“

“This place can run itself. And I know what it’s like to be stuck in here.”

“All right,” she said, trying not to sound too eager. “After lunch?”

He nodded. “Which should be soon, I imagine. Do you want to go back to your room? I don’t think we want Neville to find out about your escapade.”

“Probably not. He’d tie me down until he wanted to release me, I think.”

“A tyrant, that one,” Archibald said as he helped Lily with the crutches and the maneuvering back to her room. Gingerly she sat in a chair, her ankle propped up on an overstuffed ottoman.

“How have you been?” Archibald asked.

“Well. I think Neville will let me go home soon.”

The news sent a strange sensation through him. It would be odd not to see her everyday.

“I will miss not seeing you everyday,” he confessed.

“Is there a reason you can’t see me everyday?”

He paused. “Wouldn’t that be rather…forward?”

“We’re neighbors. I don’t think it would be too forward. And I’m not engaged. It wouldn’t be improper.”

“Your father…”

“What about him?”

“I don’t know if he’d approve. I’m older than you are. You’re barely out.”

“My father likes anyone his girls like. Well, who I like. I have better judgment than Rose.” She smiled impishly.

Archibald’s head whirled. It sounded as if she was suggesting he court her. Openly. He hadn’t done that for years. But she was encouraging him.

“Do you wish to be courted by me, Lily?”

She dropped her head and stared into her lap. She was not supposed to be this forward. She knew that. Archie was supposed to ask her and she was supposed to wait. But she didn’t know if he ever would. And she didn’t want to go home without some sort of understanding.

She looked up, eyes wide. “You are a good man. Kind, considerate. I feel…attached to you. Attracted to you.” She met his gaze. “Yes. I do wish to be courted by you.”

He leaned forward and picked up her hands, gently holding them in his own. Their gazes held. “I would like to court you, Miss Spencer. If you will have me.”

“I will, Mr. Craven.” The formality felt stiff on her tongue.

“I will speak with your father, once you have returned home,” he said. Her hands were soft and small in his and he could feel her pulse.

The moment was broken by the arrival of a maid with lunch. She set the tray down between them and left the room silently, although Archie was sure she had noted the feel in the air.

He began to serve Lily some of the soup and small sandwiches, and she sat there quietly, demurring to his actions. “Thank you,” she said, once he had begun to eat himself. “Not just for this…for everything.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”