Adam hesitated. The porridge was cold and would probably taste like clumped soil. Not to mention, it was being delivered by the hand of a man responsible by association for Adam’s imprisonment. But this was also the man who had dribbled water over Adam’s chin. The man likely responsible for cleaning the vomit off of Adam while he was unconscious.
He wasn’t a friend—never that—but in his frailness of body, his ineptitude at freeing himself, Adam had forgotten that his best skills lay not in his physical prowess but in his mind. With a burning intensity, Adam needed to see his wife again. And the soft heart of the man in front of him might even give him the tools he needed in order to do just that.
He ate the porridge without complaint. It tasted like shoe leather, but it would make him strong.
…
The stench of Willa’s paints was atrocious. Since returning from Lord Granby’s house, she had vowed to contribute to the household funds in some small way. In her case, she had chosen to dig the old paints out of the attic and apply them to the half-finished canvases she had discarded. If not for the smell, Lily would have supported the enterprise, if only to repay her sister for her support.
Practice did make nearer to perfect.
However, the paints must have been in storage for so long that they’d gone sour. Lily couldn’t be in the same room with them. For the third time in as many days, she found herself dashing upstairs to the nearest chamber pot.
She trembled as she lifted her head from the pot, her hands clasping the sides tight. Gentle hands soothed her hair down her back, stroking her. When she sat up, her eyes squeezed shut, the woman next to her laid a cool, wet handkerchief across her neck.
“I got horrendously sick the first few months I was carrying you. It’s to be expected.”
Lily opened her eyes, blinking, at Mama’s voice. Her mother, although sickly thin, seemed more present than she had in years as she knelt next to her. She didn’t seem to mind the stench wafting from the basin, though she turned Lily away from it.
“Mama?” Her voice wavered. She still tasted bile. Mama had an answer for that, too, reaching behind her for a cup she’d brought.
Not water, Lily found, but weak tea. She sipped it to wash the taste from her mouth.
With a fond smile, Mama chased away the strands of hair clinging to Lily’s face. “You’re with child, Lily.”
Lily’s chin wobbled. “No. It’s Willa’s paints…”
“When was the last time you had your courses?”
Blinking hard, she lowered her gaze to the cup she held. It had helped to settle her stomach. She moved farther from the mess she’d made.
Mama moved with her, her hands and expression gentle, as if she hoped to coax out an answer. When she helped Lily to sit on the bed, Lily realized that in her distress she’d lunged for the old room she had shared with Sophie, the one now occupied by Mama. Despite Adam’s leaving, no one had returned to their old way of living. It had seemed like too much trouble.
“I don’t recall when I last had my courses. It’s been…” Lily released a shuddering breath. She sipped from her teacup, not tasting the liquid that slid over her tongue.
Mama, perched on the bed next to her, rubbed her back.
Lily blinked away a sudden rush of tears. “I thought Adam would be here with me for this.”
“As I thought your father would be.”
When her hand stilled from the circles she was making on Lily’s back, Lily feared her mother would withdraw again. Into that place of unfeeling, where her grief didn’t overwhelm her. But impossibly far from where she sat with Lily.
Lily needed her mother. How would she raise a child? Willa’s infancy was a blur in her memories. Without Mama…
“There are so many ghosts in this house.”
Mama’s voice was raw and broken, her expression haunted. The crow’s feet around her eyes had grown since the last time Lily had sat with her like this. Her hair had gained more tendrils of ice.
Lily opened her mouth, then shut it again. “I thought you wanted to stay here. You never let us change anything.”
Squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain, Mama groped for Lily’s hand. She gave it and they both clung to one another.
“I don’t know what I want. I loved your father so much. It doesn’t feel fair that I’m alive and he isn’t.”
For the first time since Papa’s death, Lily truly understood the barrage of emotions her mother battled every day. Her throat thick, she confessed, “I love Adam, too. At least Papa didn’t leave by choice.”
Turning, Mama cupped Lily’s cheek. Her skin was cool, but her eyes were warm. “You’re much stronger than I am. Don’t stop living, Lily. Move forward.”
A tear slithered from the corner of her eye. “And you?” She didn’t want to become mired in the past as Mama was, but she didn’t want to leave her mother behind, either. After all this time… Mama was finally here with her. Lily clasped her hand out of desperation.
Showing more bravery than she had in years, Mama straightened her shoulders. “If you will, so will I. But…not here, if we can manage.”
Lily smiled, although it was watery. “We’ll manage. Somehow, we’ll manage, but it may take some time to arrange.”
…
Lily stood in the threshold of the door to the room she and Adam had shared together. The room they had made love in, the room where she been free to let down her guard and be herself. In that room, they had planned the future as equals. They’d laughed, she had loved. Without him, the room seemed like an empty coffin.
Had he left some shred of himself behind? Upon finding the relic, she had been too distraught to look closer at the room. Since then, she had avoided it entirely. She hadn’t touched the wardrobe, the chest, the writing desk. If she didn’t look, she wouldn’t find the emptiness left by the lack of his belongings. This time, like last time, she wasn’t fool enough to think he’d left a note.
Fabric stirred, followed by soft footsteps. Lily’s hand quivered, making the candlelight dance. She drew in a deep breath, trying desperately to hold herself together. Tentatively, Sophie touched her on the shoulder.
“Lily? Are you coming to bed?”
After Lily had shared the news of her condition with her sisters—she wouldn’t conceal the truth from them again—Sophie had suddenly decided that Willa kicked too much in her sleep. She’d moved her belongings into the room Lily used, the one adjoining Adam’s.
Lily took another steadying breath. She waited for the candle to stop flickering before turning to face her sister.
The soft, limpid hurt and sympathy in Sophie’s eyes nearly unraveled her.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re reminding me of Mama. Why do you keep looking at this room?”
Lily didn’t have the strength to deny it. “I won’t fall apart.” Her voice caught and she swallowed hard, trying to believe her own words.
Sophie caught her by the hand, her touch gentle but firm. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re heartbroken, you must be.”
Lily gritted her teeth. “I’m angry at myself. He fooled me. Again.”
The doe-soft eyes her sister gave her did not help with her composure. “He fooled us all, Lily.”
“Perhaps, but I knew him better than most.” She tugged her hand away. Was that true? She’d thought she’d known Adam, but she’d thought the same the first time, too. She gave the room one last, lingering glance before shutting the door. It clicked with a note of finality. “You’re right, Sophie. I’ve been wallowing too much. I need to get back to the shop, to take care of us.”
And now, a baby, too.
Sophie stepped in her path, preventing her from taking refuge in the bed. “That isn’t what I meant. We’ll find a way to survive.”
“Will you? Because at any moment, I expect th
e creditors to drag Mama away. Or me. Or you. I don’t know how many of us they will toss into debtors’ prison to appease the debts we’ve incurred.”
Rather than act concerned at the prospect, Sophie infused her posture with steel. “One blessed thing about the courts is they always take a deuced long time to hear and act on a grievance, even Mr. Chatterley’s. But if it’s the creditors you fear so much, I may have a solution by the time we’re called in front of a magistrate.”
“A solution?”
Sophie beckoned her forward. “Come to bed and I’ll tell you.”
When they were ensconced in their shared bed, the candlelight flickering on the nightstand, Sophie draped her hands around Lily’s shoulders and pulled her closer. She smelled like rosewater soap and ink. Like home. Lily relaxed against her, half lured toward sleep.
“Are you going to tell me your idea or must I guess?”
Sophie hesitated. Her muscles stiffened for a moment before she relaxed. She combed her fingers through Lily’s loose hair. “Mr. Chatterley is living off your dowry, is he not?”
Hesitantly, Lily nodded. “If we can believe Adam, yes.”
A dark silence washed over the room. When Lily tilted her head, she found Sophie frowning. “You found the papers he said you would, when you searched Mr. Chatterley’s home. The ones he used to force Adam away years ago?”
“We found some incriminating papers, yes…”
“If he told the truth about those, why do you think he lied about the blackmail?”
Lily pushed away, showing Sophie her back. She didn’t want her sister to see the tears filling her eyes, the pain. Sophie already regarded her with pity. “If he was telling the truth, why did he leave?”
“There might be a hundred reasons.”
“A hundred reasons to sneak away in the middle of the night and leave his wife behind?” Lily shook her head. She burrowed her face farther into the pillow. “Only one. He doesn’t love me as he claimed. He fooled me, Sophie. We can have no faith in anything he said.”
The silence was smothering. After a moment, her tone clipped, Sophie turned away and said, “Then I suppose my solution won’t do. I’ll think of something else, the same way I have been with my book.” She blew out the candle, swathing them in darkness.
“Your book?”
For a moment, the darkness pressing against her eyes, Lily thought her sister wouldn’t answer. She turned to face her again, the sheets rustling.
Her voice muffled, Sophie confessed, “I’m trying to get my book published.”
“You’ve written a book? Why didn’t I know about this?” Lily sat up, tentatively groping for Sophie’s arm or shoulder as her eyes adjusted to the light.
“It’s embarrassing.” Sophie sighed. She shifted, moving onto her back. Her voice emerged clearer as she confessed, “No one in London seems keen to take it. I’ve been trying for years, not only with this but with another I’ve written. I’m working on a third at the moment. I wanted to supplement the income from the shop, and heaven knows I don’t have much to do here.”
“That’s rather resourceful.”
Sophie shrugged. Lily felt the movement against her palm.
After a moment, Lily added, “I wish you would have told me. Writing a book is…”
Sophie tensed.
“Exemplary. You ought to be celebrated!”
She relaxed again. When she spoke, her tone was warm with a smile. “Thank you, Lily. The true merit of the book would be if I could support us with it. If I could only convince someone to give me five or six hundred pounds to publish it…”
Lily nudged her sister with her leg. “Tell me your solution to our predicament. Does it have anything to do with your book?”
“No. My solution only works if Reid has been living off your dowry all these years.”
Lily said nothing.
Sophie added, “He didn’t deny it, when Willa and I confronted him at the shop.”
“But he didn’t confirm it, either?”
Her silence spoke volumes.
Lily swallowed the lump in her throat, trying for once to be as optimistic as Sophie. “Then let’s assume that he has, at least for the duration of this conversation. He claimed that Adam took everything from his family, so I don’t know where else he would have found the money to live. He seems averse to finding himself a position on an expedition and doing work.”
Yes, that did make it sound likely that Adam had been telling the truth. At least in this one instance. Though, it certainly didn’t excuse his absence now.
Sophie explained, “If he is living off of your dowry, and he bought up our debts with the money he had left from it… If we can somehow track the money, we might find ourselves a barrister willing to make the case that Mr. Chatterley paid those debts on our behalf. It’s your money, our debts. It makes sense, don’t you think?”
The hope in her voice was infectious. “It does.” As she spoke the words aloud, they gained strength. “You know, I believe it is possible.” She fumbled in the dark for her sister’s hand and squeezed it fiercely. “I have…acquaintances who may be able to help with this sort of thing. Men who are very good at hiding and tracking money. In the morning, I’ll send them letters asking for help. We may just be able to fix this, after all.”
If nothing else, it gave her purpose—something she sorely needed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In darkness, without the flickering of candlelight to illuminate the room, the creak of floorboards made Adam sweat. He clenched his teeth and tested his weight on the hard wood beneath him. His muscles were sluggish, his shoulder and hip bruised from having lain in the same position for so long without relief. But he could move without vomiting, which was a sight better than he had been of late.
The tenebrous quality of the air shifted to admit a shadow among the shadows. A man? If Chatterley had come to kill him, Adam would not capitulate meekly. Day by day, he was closer to winning over Chatterley’s manservant. Soon, he would return to his wife, see her safe with his own eyes. After that…
No, he couldn’t think of what came after. He would face the consequences once he finally held her in his arms again.
“Don’t move. The master is awake.”
Adam pressed his lips together but didn’t relax.
He felt more than heard the swift footsteps. They gave him a wide berth, their owner navigating the perimeter before kneeling behind him. Adam hated having men behind him. He gritted his teeth.
In a whisper, the manservant imparted two very important pieces of information.
“The master received a letter yesterday, an answer to the one I posted last week.” The manservant’s voice was preoccupied, terse, as he fiddled with something far too near Adam for his comfort. “He’s set to leave the house at first light. I don’t know who he’s meeting, but it’s the first he’s gone out in weeks.”
There was something, an edge to the man’s voice that begged an acknowledgment. What was he implying?
The cloth binding Adam’s wrists slackened but didn’t fall away entirely. With little effort, Adam could wiggle himself free. He started but froze when his companion added, “He’ll come in to check on you before we go out.”
Without another word, the manservant used the wall to circulate the room until he reached the door and left. Adam held himself still for a moment before pressing his cheek to the floor and feigning sleep. He could wait a few minutes longer.
Then he was going home.
…
The afternoon sun was strong, peeking from between the clouds overhead. Willa skipped ahead on the street, her heels clacking on the cobblestones. Lily and Sophie followed at a more sedate pace, their arms linked. Lily smiled. Her sister’s exuberance was infectious.
Turning the corner, Willa spread her arms and turned in a circle, her skirts swishin
g around her legs. When she turned back, her blue eyes were alight. “Smile, Lily! Didn’t you hear the magistrate? We’ve done it!”
Lily hesitated. Although the news they had received had been good, the matter was far from settled. Fortunately, Sophie remained the voice of reason in all things.
Raising her eyebrows at her youngest sister, Sophie said in a gentle, chiding voice, “The magistrate said the matter is likely resolved, especially if the gentleman in question doesn’t reappear and prove otherwise. But it will take time.”
Willa made a face at Sophie. “Don’t be a beast. We’ve won this. Our debts will be absolved.”
Sophie opened her mouth to protest, but for the first time in a long time, Lily wanted to forget the hard work that yet lay ahead. Not only did they have to fight for the absolution of their debts, but even afterward she would have to rejuvenate the shop in order to avoid incurring more. The weight of responsibility was still on her shoulders, but somehow being open about it with her sisters made it far more bearable. Willa had even asked to learn how to operate the forge. If it was like most of her other fancies, it wouldn’t last long, but perhaps Lily would have an apprentice for a few months while she worked on getting the shop to a better financial standpoint. She could do this because she had the strength of her sisters behind her. She reached out to clasp Willa’s hand. “You’re right. This is a happy day.”
Sophie’s mouth tightened as she glanced sidelong at Lily, but she didn’t protest.
With a broad smile, Willa turned again, gathering her skirts in her fists as if she wanted to run. “We ought to celebrate! How do you think we should? Maybe a few nice ribbons, or—”
“We’ll bake a cake,” Sophie said, her voice firm. “Or plum pudding. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
Willa’s eyes grew big with the light. “It is! And it’s not even Christmas! Do we have the ingredients?”
Lily shot her sister a grateful smile. “We’ll check when we get home,” she answered, even though she knew the answer. Despite the cost of the ingredients for the dessert, it would likely be far less than if Willa went out on a shopping spree for ribbons.
The Price of Temptation Page 31