by Maggie Ryan
*
Mid-week, Phillip met Douglas for lunch. When the meal was over, he again refused a ride.
“Are you quite sure?” Douglas asked yet again as he leaned out of the open door of his carriage.
“I’m positive. It’s a beautiful day and I quite enjoy taking in the fresh air.”
“Since when?” Douglas asked, shaking his head. “Fine, have it your way. Oh, I forgot to mention that I’ll be escorting Rachel to the museum this Saturday afternoon. We’d love for you to join us.”
Phillip began shaking his head in preparation of declining when a thought popped into his mind. “Which museum?”
“Does it really matter?” Douglas asked. “Aren’t they all about the same? I mean, you see one oil painting and you’ve seen them all.”
“Hardly.” Phillip chuckled. “If you don’t enjoy them, why are you going?”
“Because my little Rachel adores them. She is constantly telling me that I just need to look beyond the brush strokes to learn the story that lies beneath the oils.”
“And have you?”
“No. They are all a bunch of colors slapped onto canvas, but I do love watching her enjoyment. We’re going to the one nearest the opera house. It’s the last one on her list before we begin the cycle again.” Douglas’s dramatic groan caused Phillip to shake his head.
“You are going to spoil that girl rotten.”
“I know, but then, she spoils me so very well, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, and yes, I’ll join you. What time?”
Douglas grinned. “Excellent! At least I’ll have someone to talk to while Rachel tows me about the place. You know Eleanor insists the girls take a nap, so about three? Afterwards, we’ll have a bite of dinner before taking her back.”
Phillip heard his friend’s wistful tone at those last few words. “Buck up, she’ll be your bride in another couple of months and the only place you’ll be taking her is home.”
When Douglas gave him a leer, wagging his eyebrows up and down, Phillip waved his hand as he began to walk away. God, the man was a lucky son of a bitch. He’d found his girl practically under his nose when she’d come to visit her friend, who was the daughter of his next-door neighbor’s cook. The girls had helped serve dinner one night when Douglas was a guest and, per his friend, the moment their eyes met, they had instantly connected.
Her visit turned into a much longer one. Douglas proposed within a month, and while Rachel boldly confessed she was ready to bed him; it had taken her six more months to believe he had no intention of accepting her offer until she accepted his. Once engaged, she’d said her goodbyes to her friend and entered Eleanor’s school. She adapted well to her classes and under both his and Eleanor’s tutelage, had become far more sure of herself when she discovered great joy and fulfillment in submission. As the carriage turned a corner and left Phillip to himself, he began to scan the streets for the small woman with the ebony, curly locks and eyes the green of spring leaves. He listened for the call of a soft voice selling her pretty bouquets for a sum that most people in his circle wouldn’t even consider as having much worth. Eleanor was right. There were so many who made do with so much less than he had.
Seeing a few flower girls, but not the one he sought, he hailed a carriage. Reaching his house, he poured himself a glass of brandy and relaxed before the fire. He wasn’t all that fond of spending an afternoon wandering the halls of a museum, but its location had ensured his presence. Perhaps Eleanor was wrong about this, at least. As long as there was the slightest possibility that Lilly might return to the streets around the opera house, he wasn’t going to miss out on a chance to see her again.
Chapter Four
Lilly was smiling despite the ache in her legs. She’d sold most of her bouquets, pleased at the compliments she’d received that told her the extra small touches paid for the trouble. “Thank you, sir,” she said as she handed a mixed bunch of flowers to a gentleman. “I hope your wife enjoys them.”
“I’m sure she shall,” he said, pressing a coin into her hand. “She not only loves flowers, her favorite color is pink.”
Lilly waited until he moved back towards his carriage before she slid her fingers into the bodice of her dress, tucking the coin into the pocket she’d sewn onto her shift. The robbery of her entire day’s wages had taught her well. She carried no bag, whose clink of the coins inside would draw the eyes of every thief. They’d have to drag her down to the ground to get her money and she’d be sure to kick and scream, scratch, bite and fight to keep that from ever happening again. Choosing one of the remaining bouquets from her basket, she adjusted the ribbons, knowing those were the pink the man had referred to. Though they cost her a portion of her profits, she knew she made the money back with each sale.
“Flowers, buy some pretty flowers for your love,” she called. Turning in a circle, she searched for a likely customer. Her words froze mid-spiel as she saw a team of horses coming towards her. It took another moment before she was positive that they were the same two she’d seen at the house as the crest on the door became clearer. Turning, she hurried towards the corner, ducking around it before the carriage pulled to a stop.
“Damnation,” she cursed. “Why are you here?” The matinee at the opera house would be over in just a moment and she’d lose her chance to encourage another man to surprise his wife or his love with a sweet smelling bunch of flowers. Slowly sticking her head out just far enough to see, she was grateful she’d seen this carriage from across the street the other evening. She was even more grateful when the occupants disembarked and entered the museum. When the carriage moved away, she knew the three were mostly likely going to be occupied inside for at least an hour or two.
Still, she remained hidden until the sounds of voices told of the opera’s ending. Plastering a smile on her face, she returned to her spot and began her call. She gave her thanks without thinking as her basket emptied and her coins were tucked safely away. If anyone had asked what her last customers had looked like, she’d have been unable to answer. Working by rote, she’d kept her eyes on the museum doors, ready to bolt again if any of the three had exited earlier than expected.
She didn’t take a deep breath until she had left not only the corner, but the entire block behind. Ducking into another alley, she dug out a few coins then continued to finish her day with a bit of shopping. Her customers had been generous and she had more than enough to buy a few necessities, as well as new bar of soap.
“Thank you, Jimmy,” she said as he placed her purchases into a bag. “How is Matilda feeling?”
“You know her. Always telling me she’s fine even when I can see how tired she is. I am insisting she take a nap every day.”
“I can imagine she’s grateful for a husband who cares.”
Jimmy laughed. “She hates napping as she feels certain she is going to miss something. But she is always sleeping like a baby when I check on her.”
“Well, the baby should be here before too long. Give her my best—”
“Wait, I almost forgot. What about some ribbon? I’ve put aside the ends of some rolls just for you.”
“Oh! That’s so sweet. What colors?” Lilly watched as he ducked beneath the counter and almost clapped when he reappeared with three rolls. While most of the yardage was gone, she could tell that more than just the last little bit remained. “People really liked the pink,” she told him, reaching for the one which was a slightly darker rose. “But the purple is really pretty, too.” She ran her finger across the lavender-colored satin.
“What about the white?” Jimmy asked, unrolling a few inches. “It would look mighty nice against the green stems of your pretty flowers.”
Lilly nodded. “It would. How much for a yard of each?”
“I don’t have time to do any measuring,” Jimmy stated, though she was the sole customer at the moment. “How about a ha’penny for the lot?”
Lilly gasped and shook her head. “You know that is far too cheap a
price. I won’t accept charity—”
“It’s not charity,” the clerk insisted. “Nobody is going to want to pay for these little bits.” When she continued to shake her head, he said, “All right, I suppose some rat can dig them out from the rubbish bin and line his nest.” He reached for the bolt she’d laid on the counter, but she was quicker.
“I’ll take them, but not for less than a penny.”
“Fine,” Jimmy said with a sigh. Taking her offered penny, he tucked the bolts into another bag and then grinned as he slipped a few pieces of candy in as well.
“Jimmy…” she said in warning but then laughed. “I don’t know what to do with you, but I do thank you.” After tucking the bag into her basket, she smiled. “I think Matilda might not complain about you making her nap if you gave her some pretty flowers. I’ll bring you a bunch tomorrow.”
“She’d like that,” Jimmy said, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, and she is partial to purple.”
“Then purple ribbons it is.” With another smile and a wave, Lilly left the store. She still had a few hours until darkness fell and she knew just how she intended to fill them. After making another stop at the market down the street, she had half a dozen apples, only slightly bruised, and a freshly baked loaf of bread, as well as a small container of jam. She’d argued over price again when the butcher insisted she take a few ends of smoked meat he’d wrapped in butcher paper and tied with a string.
“You are skin and bones, Miss Lilly. Don’t you know that men like a bit of softness to cuddle?”
She had to bite the inside of her cheek as Mrs. Austin, the butcher’s wife, was a rather large woman. When her husband, who was even larger than his wife, smiled and bent to kiss her cheek before slapping her on the behind and telling her to stop embarrassing the customers, Lilly had to smile. They were both very kind people, insisting she pay only a portion of what the foodstuffs were worth. Though they always insisted she needn’t buy the bruised fruit, she always won that battle.
With ribbon for her next bouquets, soap for her bath, and food for her belly, she hurried home. An hour later, she had eaten and bathed and had to force herself to finish her chores before settling down with a book. Sitting on her pallet, she began to massage her calves, flexing her feet forward and back, stretching her muscles. She grimaced at the ache but knew if she didn’t accept this discomfort, she’d find it far more difficult to move tomorrow. The cat gave her a look as if wondering what she was doing.
“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “I’ve seen you stretching, too.” The cat meowed as if disagreeing before he returned his attention to the bounty she’d placed on his plate. Standing, she bent over and placed her palms flat on the floor and counted slowly as she lifted onto her tiptoes, held the pose for twenty seconds and then lowered her feet flat. She was perspiring a bit when she finished her fifty repetitions. Sinking onto her pallet again, she groaned.
“Next time, exercise before your bath, silly,” she scolded herself. Drinking a glass of water helped cool her down and she rewarded herself by unwrapping one of the peppermints Jimmy had slipped into her bag. The moment the scent of the candy wafted from its wrapper, she thought of the last time she’d smelled it. It had been when she’d buried her face against a man’s neck. He’d smelled of peppermint and… well, of man. Shaking her head as if to clear it of the memory, she popped the sweet into her mouth. Satisfied with a week that had gone well, she took a book from her stack. There was still enough light to see and she opened the cover and was soon lost in the story. Only when she realized she had her nose practically buried against the page did she sit back. When she yawned, she realized how very tired she was. Setting the book aside, she smiled. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how the book ended; she’d read it at least a dozen times before. She opened the door to let the cat out and then closed it, pushing the only chair in front of it before she slid beneath her quilt and settled her head on her pillow. With the last of the fading light, she looked at her arm. The salve might have burned a bit in the beginning but it had worked very well. The scratch had mostly disappeared and no longer stung.
Thinking of the salve had her thinking of Lord Carrington. Perhaps instead of running away today, she should have been courageous enough to step forward and thank him for the medicine. She just couldn’t chance it when Rachel and her papa were there as well. She’d just die if she discovered he hadn’t kept his word and told them of the naughty voyeur up in the tree. As she had for the past week, she fell asleep remembering the scene and replaying every moment of her encounter with Lord Carrington.
*
A few miles away, Phillip and his companions had just finished their own supper. The amount they consumed would have kept Lilly in groceries for over a week. They had feasted on roasted duck in a rich orange sauce, fluffy rice and asparagus. Phillip had grinned when Rachel displayed her dislike of the green spears. All it had taken was a stern look and a whispered warning from her papa to have her placing a bite into her mouth. Phillip had to wonder if the promise of dessert upon finishing the vegetable had been the truly deciding factor, though he couldn’t totally discount the possibility that his friend might indeed have removed his little girl from the table, only returning once he was assured that she would eat every single spear while sitting on a far less comfy bottom.
“You’re actually accepting a ride?” Douglas teased, once they’d finished their meal and he’d dabbed at a smear of chocolate left on the corner of Rachel’s mouth.
“Just consider me your chaperone,” he’d said, loving both Rachel’s giggle and Douglas’s scowl. His presence hadn’t kept Rachel off her papa’s lap or the two from sharing more than a few kisses. When they reluctantly parted as the carriage pulled up in front of the school, Phillip chuckled. “It’s not like the two of you won’t see each other in just a few hours.”
“Hours that will feel like days,” Douglas groaned. He had climbed from the carriage and led his love up the steps. Eleanor met them at the door and, after ensuring that Rachel’s nanny had her in hand, she followed Douglas back to the carriage.
“Hello, Lord Carrington,” she said once he’d stepped out to greet her.
Phillip bent to kiss her cheek. “Good evening, Eleanor.”
“Shall we set you a place at dinner tomorrow? I know that Kathryn is anxious to visit with you again.”
“I’m afraid she will be disappointed,” Douglas said before Phillip could answer. “It seems as though Carrington isn’t interested.”
“Ah, well, be that as it may, I’d still enjoy your company,” Eleanor said.
“Even if I have to say that I don’t feel any connection with any of your pupils? I admit they are all quite lovely, but…”
“But none have caused your heart to threaten to stop beating?” Eleanor asked softly, her head tilted to one side. Again, he wasn’t given time to answer. “Ah, but perhaps there is someone?”
“A gentleman does not share such intimate details,” Phillip offered, though he knew that within the walls of the house that stood before him, such intimate details were not only shared, they were discussed in very explicit detail.
Eleanor laughed and lifted herself onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I have a feeling that I’ll be counting you among my clients before too long.” Patting his arm, she added, “And, I always have been able to count on my instincts.”
Aware that Douglas was listening to every word, Phillip simply nodded. Eleanor gave Douglas his own kiss and returned to the house. Once inside the carriage again, Douglas wasted no time.
“What did she mean by that? Is she perhaps bringing in another new student?”
“I don’t know,” Phillip said. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel the urge to share his feelings with his best friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Douglas with his desires, as they were men of the same ilk… he just knew it was not yet time. Instead, he said, “You were right about the museum. As much as I love art, even I admit that spending twent
y minutes looking at the same painting is a bit much.”
As it always did, the mention of Rachel had Douglas smiling. “I told you, and if you tell me you could follow her story about a dragon, a knight, and some damsel in distress, I’ll throw you out of this carriage.”
The two laughed in easy companionship and spoke about the various paintings until the carriage pulled up in front of Phillip’s house. Before he alighted, Douglas reached out and laid his hand on Phillip’s arm. “Don’t think I’m too dense not to know something is going on. Just know that I hope you find the happiness that I have. I’m here if you need an ear.”
“That I’ll never forget, my friend,” Phillip assured him. “I’ll see you tomorrow but I’ll not need a ride.”
“You’re still taking in the fresh air? Lord, man, that would be a ten-mile trip, each way!”
“No, even I don’t feel the need to walk quite that far. I’ll ride over on Racer. He doesn’t get enough exercise.”
“All right. See you then.”
Phillip waited until the carriage disappeared and then went inside. “Good evening, Robert.”
“Good evening, sir,” his butler returned, taking his hat and coat.
“Oh, could you ask John to have Racer ready tomorrow?”
“Certainly, sir. What time do you wish to ride?”
Knowing that he had no true idea of what time, Phillip made a guess based on the previous week. They’d taken their stroll in the garden after dinner. He wanted to finish his surprise before then. “Three o’clock should be fine.”