by Fanny Finch
Joy blossomed in his heart and but for propriety, he would have lifted her, spun her around and gift a kiss to her lips. Although in all honesty, the gift would be his.
Aware that he could not do any of that, he simply lowered his head to place a kiss to her cheeks.
He would try to contain his joy, but they knew no bound. So he settled for a grin, one that made his cheeks hurt. He cared naught. Liliana had accepted to be courted by him.
The only thing that came next, was a proposal. And he would propose, as soon as he got his Hanson’s murderers behind bars.
“Thank you, Liliana. You have no inkling how happy this has made me. I shall continue to cherish you, my dear. Always.”
She could only smile up at him, her happiness, evident as well.
“And I shall hold moments like this dear to my heart, always.”
It was not so much what he was hoping for, but it was a promise nonetheless, one he planned on holding on to.
“So, now that we have that behind us, pray tell me, my lady, what else do I need to know about your father? You two were very close, no?”
“We were. He was the best man, still is the best man I have ever known…”
They danced into the night, joy in their hearts and tales of Lord Henry Swan, on Liliana’s lips.
Even though the night had started on the wrong foot, Sebastian was grateful that it ended on four right feet.
Chapter 19
She turned in her bed for the umpteenth time that noon, with a grunt that testified to her foul mood.
The maid who had been placed in the room to keep watch over her said nothing, holding her peace. It was not often Lady Liliana experienced such moodiness.
When it happened, they knew best to keep out of her way. Liliana turned once more, backing the beautiful sunlight that was seeping in through her window to look at the maid.
The girl seemed to have busied herself with patching up a torn garment, and would not look at her lady.
Miffed by all of it, the deafening silence and idle hands, Liliana jumped up in frustration, and hurriedly begin to find a shawl. The maid was up in an instant too.
“My lady, is there anything that you require me to do? Please, let me help. Lord Rothwell would not like you exerting yourself so.”
Rolling her eyes, Liliana bit down on the retort on her lips, choosing to speak calmly, for she could not blame the sweet girl for obeying instructions, she replied,
“I not handicapped, Sarah. Contrary to what everyone in this household has made it seem like, I did not lose a limb, or an eye. I simply suffered from a stomach discomfort and a mild skin irritation.”
“His lordship commanded that you are not to exert yourself until you have made full recovery.”
She found the shawl she was searching for then, and wrapped it around her. Turning around, she smiled at Sarah.
“So, tell him I have. Look at me, Sarah. I am completely fine. I have regained my strength. See? There is no need to worry.”
Slipping into her shoes, she began to head for the door.
“And where might you be off to, my lady?”
Liliana stopped in her tracks. She resisted the urge to have another eye roll.
“To the gardens, for some fresh air, of course! I have been holed up in this room for days, Sarah. Surely, you understand if the air is beginning to feel putrid?”
She watched the girl who was only younger than her by three years, struggle between obeying her master and pleasing her lady. Liliana knew when the decision was made.
“Oh, alright, my lady! Nevertheless, I must come with you, in case you need any help.”
No. She was not about to have Sarah hover around her at her first chance of freedom in days. Thinking fast, she sought for what to do.
“That’s sweet of you, Sarah. Thank you, dear. You know, I have just thought of what would make my time on the balcony more pleasing. If you would bring me some of Evie’s cookies, I shall be very glad.”
“But… my lady, you have an aversion to…”
“Cakes, dear Sarah. Evie’s cookies have never bothered me.”
That seemed to do the trick, for Sarah went numb and obediently left the room, no doubt, in search of cookies.
Liliana stepped out after her. “I shall be waiting at the balcony,” she called, but did not move a foot.
She waited until Sarah had disappeared down the hall before locking her doors behind her.
Deciding that it would not do to go to the balcony if she truly wanted some peace of mind and quiet, she changed her course.
Her mind fleeted to the attic. She had always wondered about it since they arrived in London. Perhaps, today was the day to feed her curiosity. Lord Rothwell was in his study, drowning in ledgers as always.
Nora had gone for a walk in the park with one of her numerous suitors and his sister, with whom she had fast become friends.
No one would think to look for her in the attic. She would be free, alone and she would finally be able to do something with her hands.
Good lord, but being forcefully bedridden for three days had been so terrible. Stepfather would hear nothing of her doing any work. The sickness had made her lean and everyone had feared for her health.
Lord Rothwell had razed hell about her carelessness with the cake. Even Sebastian had been sorry he had let her eat all those cakes after seeing her.
The look in his eyes made her shudder in mortification even as she thought of it now. He had blamed himself- surprisingly, and had felt really helpless.
She had felt helpless. There she was, all sickly, unable to speak, rashes all over her skin, while the man she loved and yes- she was in love with Sebastian and helplessly so, God save her soul- looked down at her like she was a bird only just hatching in his mother’s nest.
Only, she was a bird with no mother. He had visited every day she was plagued with the illness, and on the day she finally began to feel better. It had been two days since then and she was yet to hear from me.
Perhaps, that was one of the reasons for her angst. She missed him. She was recovering well now, her rashes were gone.
This was the Lilly she only wanted Sebastian to see. In sickness and in health only came after marriage- Nora’s words.
Although her sister was probably the last person whose words, she should listen to but ah… not that she could help it.
What if Nora was right? What if Sebastian was like other men who wanted their wives healthy? That way, they were certain of her capability to sire them an heir.
Was that why he was yet to call on her? Was he rethinking his decision to court her in preparation for marriage? Or was he simply busy with business and state affairs as always?
She shook her head as his voice rang in her head. Finally reaching the top of the stairs where the attic laid, she stopped to catch her breath.
Goodness! She had had no idea it would be so tasking. Now, she felt weak all over again. Not that she would ever confess it. Lord Rothwell would never let her hear the end of it.
At least, thoughts of Sebastian had given her the push she needed to make it.
Looking at the wooden door, she wondered what laid behind. Seeing no need to waste any more time, she pushed the door, grateful when it came open.
Without hesitation, she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
Thankfully, the attic had two big windows and they afforded the room all the lightning it ended. It was just as they had described in the books she had read.
A room where old properties were kept. Wooden boxes, stools, books, old shelves, a pianoforte! The sight of it thrilled her so, she started to go to it. As she walked further into the attic, the dust in the air clung to her nostrils.
She tried to hold a cough back, wondering if she wouldn’t have been better off at the balcony. She had not lied about the putrid air in her room, but it was definitely better than the dust that plagued this place.
Unwilling to leave after coming all the way up, she co
ntinued on. Focused on the pianoforte, she didn’t see the wooden chest in her way. As her toe kicked against it, she cried out in pain.
“Ouuuhhh!”
Moving a few steps back, she looked down to see the cause of her pain. The sight that met her immediately arrested her attention, forgetting thoughts of the pianoforte.
Her leg had kicked the chest aside, causing its lid to come open. Now, its content laid revealed. She saw a scarf first. One that was very familiar, it tingled her senses.
Bending, she reached out to take it. It was warm, and soft, just like she had always remembered it. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled the scent, not minding the dust.
A wave of nostalgia washed over her as the scent filled her nostrils, and she struggled to hold back a tear. Of course, now she knew why the scarf was familiar. It had been her mother’s. it still smelled just like her.
What was once white silk, now appeared almost brown. She wondered why they had not been given this item. Lord Rothwell had let them keep what they wanted to of their mother’s belonging.
Perhaps, she had forgotten this scarf at the townhouse upon one of their visits to London and it had simply ended up here?
Deciding it was finder’s keepers, she wrapped it quickly and tried to fit it into the pocket she had to sew into her skirts. It wasn’t the common fashion for women, yet, but her mother had fancied pockets in skirts were just as practical as those in trousers, and of course, coats.
On days like this, Liliana saw the truth in that. Her mother, bless her soul, was a wise woman.
With the scarf safe in her pocket, she proceeded to take a look at the chest, once again.
That was when she saw them. Letters, several of them.
The curiosity in her heart tickled, and she wondered if it was in her place to read. What were these letters? Were they correspondences concerning her mother?
Or Lord Rothwell? Was it in her place to read their content?
Unable to help herself, she reached out to pick one of them. It slipped from her hand, and as she reached for it once again, she saw that it had come open.
That writing… even if she was shown in her sleep, she would recognize it. It belonged to none other than her father. What were her father’s letters doing in Lord Rothwell’s attic?
Perhaps, they had been written to her mother? Surely now, she had to read them, did she not? Anything at all that would make her feel closer to her parents, feel their presence, she wanted to be a part of it. Entirely.
She never got the chance to finish the war that waged within her. Just then, she heard footfalls coming up the stairs.
They sounded heavy, like a man’s. The attic was the only thing up this way. Oh Goodness! She had been found!
Not having the time to think further, in her panic, she returned the letter to the chest and shut it close, then looked around frantically for something to grab.
Somehow, she did not want to be found going through the chest of letters, she knew was somehow sacred. She did not know who it was coming up the stairs but if it was Mr. Hortcroft or stepfather- goodness, not stepfather- she was sure to receive a scolding for disobeying orders.
Not that it would be harsh, she would simply be reprimanded. She did not wish to increase her sins by being caught sieving through the chest.
She found it just in time. A dusty old book. She was a bit more careful of the things that laid below this time as she found her way to the window. She reached just in time to strike a casual pose against the wall.
Just as she managed to open the book, the door came open.
Pretending to be engrossed in literature, she kept her eyes rammed on words she could not see, not daring to look up.
There was a moment of loud silence and in that moment, her heart ran faster than ever.
“Lilly, you are here.”
She knew before she turned, that it was her stepfather. His voice had given him out.
Swallowing, she plastered a small guilty smile on her face and turned to look at him.
Closing the book, she dipped into a shallow curtsy.
“Father. I was thinking you would be in your study, hours still.”
“Ah, is that why you thought it wise to deceive your maid and come hide in here? When the girl got to the balcony and did not find you, she returned to your room only to find it locked. She’s now moping around, believing that you deceived her into leaving because you wanted to be rid of her. I believed that too and despite better judgment, agreed that you should be left alone. And all this while, you were here.”
Liliana held the accusation in his voice and she felt sorry. Not because she had come up here, but because she had made Sarah sad.
“I’m… I’m sorry, father. I was simply going mad locked up in that room for days, with someone watching my every move. I am better now, you know. Stronger.”
“As I can see. Strong enough to resume your many adventures. Has the attic called you like the lake?”
Her eyes bulged. The lake? Did stepfather know about the lake?
As though he read the question in her eyes, he replied.
“Yes, I know about your escapades. I know you sneak out of the house and head to the lake when it all gets overwhelming for you. You did not think you were so lucky now, did you? Clever perhaps?” He gave Liliana a small smile that made her know he was not cross with her.
She breathed easy then.
“I noticed in time that you always seemed to just… disappear. I thought you were going to see a man, of course.” He chuckled now, as though the notion was ridiculous.
“I had you followed. Three times. You never guessed. The men made sure to keep their distance. Their report was the same each time… you simply stood at the lake and fed the swans. You were meeting no one. I remembered the lake used to hold special memories for your mother and I reckoned, perhaps, it simply was a special place for the family you once had. So, I let it be. I simply put measures in place to make certain you remain safe.”
All of these were truly revealing to Liliana. She had had no idea. All these while, believing she had gotten better at sneaking when Lord Rothwell had caught her at it a long while ago.
She wanted to laugh at herself. And he had thought she was meeting a man? Oh well, she did meet a man once… howbeit, planned or not. Had they been aware?
She thought not.
“I’m sorry, father. For making you worry.” Her voice was solemn, sincere.
“Think nothing of it, dear. Children will be children. Has your curiosity been satisfied? It’s the attic what you thought it would be?”
She looked around the cozy room once again and gave in to the urge to shrug. She saw Lord Rothwell frown as she began to, and quickly stop.
Far be it from a proper lady to lift her shoulders in such a brazen manner. In her mind, she rolled her eyes.
“No different from what I have read of in the stories. Why do we not have one like this in the manor back at home, father?”
“We do, only that one is about four times larger, properly taken care of, and serves as my chamber, now and then.”
“Ohh…”
“Yes.”
Nothing more was said and the longer the silence lasted, the more uncomfortable it became. She avoided her stepfather’s gaze, but her reward from this adventure weighed heavily in her pocket.
Deciding it was best she left before they were noticed, she cleared her throat.
“Father, I find it you were right. I shouldn’t exert myself so, yet. I am beginning to feel faint. I shall return to my room now, upon your leave.”
Lord Rothwell immediately became worried.
“Oh dear, can you make it down on your own or shall I come with you?”
“I shall manage, father, you need not worry. I thank thee.” She began to walk towards him and when she reached his side, she dropped another curtsy. “Do be wary of the dust, I pray thee, they sting. Do not tarry too long.”
He gave her a curt nod and taking that as per
mission, she found her way out of the attic.
It was only when she was stairs below, that she could finally breathe. For some reason, the whole encounter gnawed at her heart. Something was not right here.
But… what was it?
Chapter 20
Liliana did not see Sebastian until a week later. Although, in all fairness, after that day at the attic, he began to send letters and flowers, for each day.
He explained that he was out of town, but would return in time for the next ball, which they were to attend together. It was no longer news that the marquess and lady Swan were now formally courting, and he was to be her escort.