L&A: 15

Archie soon became a fixture at the Spencer household, coming over every afternoon to take Lily to her garden and then to sit with her in the parlor, while Martha served them tea. Richard, of course, shadowed them, and occasionally Lord and Lady Spencer would join them. The tea table was always set with the gorgeous bouquets Archie brought Lily every day.

“Lily, have you played for Mr. Craven yet?” Emma asked one afternoon, a few days before Rose’s engagement party. “I’m sure he’d love to hear you.”

“Oh, do, Lil, I haven’t heard you play since I’ve been home,” Richard entreated from the couch.

“I won’t really be able to play properly; I can’t work the pedals yet.” Neville had announced the cast could come off tomorrow. “What about tomorrow, once the cast is off?”

“You’re stalling,” Richard said. “Come on. You know you’ve got about twelve pieces ready to play.”

Lily gave her mother a pleading look, but she found no sympathy. “Very well.” She made her way to the small piano that graced the parlor—not like the Broadwood grand in the Music Room—and shuffled through the music she kept there. “Beethoven,” she said decisively.

She had chosen the “Moonlight” Sonata, which was, unbeknownst to her, one of Archibald’s favorites. His mother had often played it for them when they were children, to get them ready for bed. It was one of the few pieces Archibald had learned during his brief attempt at music lessons as a boy. Lily played the piece exactly as it should be played, with a haunting, romantic overtone that demonstrated familiarity with the instrument and maturity in practice. Her brother was right; she was talented.

As Lily played, Archibald noticed Rose standing at the threshold. Rose made it a point not to spend much time with Archie when he visited, although she usually appeared at least once for the sake of politeness. But Archibald could see Rose had almost forgotten he was there; she was entranced by her sister’s music.

Lily stopped at the end of the first movement, the bass chords echoing in the room as she held the moment. Her hands fell softly to the keys and Richard applauded.

“Excellent, as always,” he said, going to kiss his sister. Lily blushed.

“It was a bit rusty.”

“Nonsense. It was perfect,” Emma said, with motherly affection.

“Rose!” Richard noticed his sister. “Didn’t see you come in. Have some tea, will you?”

“Is Albert doing well?” Lily asked. Rose had spent the afternoon with the Lennox family; Albert was temporarily in town.

“Yes.” Rose entered hesitantly and untied her hat, the satin ties dangling beneath her chin. “His family is very well.”

“I asked about him,” Lily said as Richard helped her back to Archie’s side.

Emma poured Rose a cup of tea, and she sipped it gingerly. “Albert is fine. A bit tired from the passage, which is to be expected.”

“Do they still go the oversea route, around Africa?” Archibald asked.

Rose looked surprised at the inquiry. “There is a train for some of it. But not yet all. It is quite arduous.”

“I am glad he will be here for the ball,” Lily said. “I look forward to dancing with him again.”

“As long as you are not otherwise engaged,” Rose said coldly.

“I can dance a set with my future brother-in-law.”

“As long as I get to dance with both you, I don’t much care,” Richard said brightly. “I am so fortunate to be have two talented sisters.”

“You will have quite an evening ahead of you, Mr. Craven,” Emma said. “Lily is quite accomplished on the dance floor.”

“She once danced with the Duke of Sussex,” Richard boasted, “and he said he’d never had a better partner—not even the Princess of Wales.”

“That is a high compliment.” Archibald’s face was solemn and Lily hoped the talk of dancing hadn’t upset him too much. She thought fleetingly of London, Almack’s and Amy Moore.

“Will you stay for dinner, Mr. Craven?” Emma asked.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I must meet with Seward and go over the Manor’s books. The quarterly reports are due soon.”

“Until tomorrow then.” Emma rose and Archibald bowed as she left the room. Rose and Richard followed their mother’s cue.

“You’re not upset, are you?” Lily asked once they were alone.

“Why?”

“All the talk of dancing. Really, we don’t have to dance. I’ll be fine. I won’t have the stamina to be at it all evening like those two.”

“It…will take some getting used to. I haven’t danced in—“

She took his hand. “I know. But I’m not her.”

“Not just that. The entire idea of society; I’m not used to it.”

She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry about that. This is Rose and Albert’s night. We will be secondary figures. And I’ll be with you.”

“That is my only comfort,” he said.

“And Neville will be there.”

“He’ll want a dance from you.”

“I think I can oblige your brother,” she said lightly. “Hasn’t he set his cap for someone yet?”

“I think he’s considering moving back to London. We’ve only discussed it briefly, but he does crave good society.”

“Then the ball will be what he needs. We’ve been deprived of a good party for quite some time. Maybe he can find a lady there.”

“You don’t want him to go to London?”

She shrugged. “He’s your brother. It would be nice if he remained here. I like it when families are close together.”

“You will miss Rose, when she goes.”

She nodded. “We have never been apart. We have always done everything together. It will be strange to have her gone, to miss seeing her every day, to miss the birth of her children.”

“Are you sure she’ll have them? I’m sure she bemoans what they’ll do to her figure.” Archibald laughed.

“Mother says she’ll ‘do her duty,’” Lily intoned. “But Rose doesn’t really like children. Albert does, though. How they’ll work that out is somewhat beyond me.”

“I’m sure Rose will be a better mother than you think.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

The small table clock chimed five, and Archie stood. “I should get back. Neville will probably be waiting for me for dinner.”

“You will come tomorrow?” Archie loved her childlike impatience.

“I will. As always. Neville will be here to remove the cast, you know. You’ll be free of it.”

“Perhaps we can really walk to the garden then. It’s looking so wonderful. I want to pick Rose some flowers for her hair for the ball.”

“That’s a lovely idea. If Neville gives his imprimatur, we’ll go,” he promised. He gently kissed her hand. “Tomorrow then.”

She nodded and he took his leave. Sighing, she leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, savoring his touch.