The Apothecary's Daughter Part 26

"Yes, although I have not seen him in nearly two years."

She nodded, though Lilly had the distinct impression the woman would not bother to pa.s.s along the greetings of a mere shopkeeper's daughter.

Lilly let herself from the room, closing the door behind her.

She asked a housemaid, a girl she did not know, where Mr. Withers would have put her wrap. The girl bobbed a curtsy and ducked through a door. A moment later, the butler himself appeared, holding her mantle while she put on her straw hat. Roderick Marlow appeared in the hall and, seeing her there, quickly strode over.

"Leaving already, Miss Haswell?"

"Yes, I must be getting back."

He took her wrap from the butler and arranged it over her shoulders himself. She swallowed, uncomfortable with his familiarity, especially in front of Mr. Withers.

She self-consciously took a step away from Mr. Marlow as she tied the bow around her neck.

"Well, good evening," she said. "Thank you for including me so generously."

"You are more than welcome. Has Withers called for your carriage?"

Roger appeared in the hall and walked toward them just as Miss Powell came out of the drawing room. So much for slipping away quietly.

Lilly said, in what she hoped were low tones, "No. I walked actually. It is not far."

Even so, Roger heard her. "Marlow, send for your carriage, will you? I shall escort Miss Haswell home."

"Never mind, Bromley," Marlow said. "I shall see Miss Haswell home myself."

"Really, Roderick," Ca.s.sandra Powell said, pa.s.sing by on her way to the stairs. "You have guests. The groom can take her perfectly well."

"Yes, please," Lilly urged. "I do not wish to trouble you further. I can walk, or if Cecil has time a ?"

"Cecil?" Ca.s.sandra swung back around, brow arched.

"Cecil Briggs. The groom."

"Ah," she said. "Do you know all the servants?"

Lilly lifted her chin. "Yes. I know everybody in the village. Or at least I did at one time."

"How quaint."

"As host, I insist on escorting you home," Roderick Marlow said. "Bromley, if you will be so good as to entertain Miss Whittier while I'm gone. Horton is out cold, I'm afraid. I shall have Withers and Stedman see to him."

"Oh, very well," Roger said, as though it were a burden to have Miss Whittier all to himself. His warm gaze fastened on Lilly. "I cannot tell you what a delight it has been to see you again, Miss Haswell. Shall we have the pleasure of your company again tomorrow?"

"No. But I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay, Mr. Bromley." Lilly curtsied and he bowed.

Ca.s.sandra Powell was already halfway up the stairs without a backward glance.

Roderick called for his curricle and waved off the groom. "I'll handle the ribbons myself."

Discomfort flooded Lilly. Alone, unchaperoned with Roderick Marlow, at night? Did he not realize, or did he simply not care? She said, "I think, Mr. Marlow, that given the hour ..

"Of course. You are quite right. The landau, please, Withers, and Briggs to drive. No use rousing the coachman at this hour."

Lilly might have walked home in the time it took to harness the horses and bring the carriage around, but Mr. Marlow would not hear of it. When hooves sounded on the crescent drive out front, he escorted her outside. Cecil Briggs helped her up into the seat, and she did not miss the groom's speculative expression. He and Charlie had been boyhood friends. When Mr. Marlow leaned close to the groom and delivered some low instruction, Cecil darted a look at her that she could not quite decipher. Surprise? Worry?

As soon as Mr. Marlow was seated beside her in the front-facing bench, Cecil climbed up to his perch and started the horses into a mild pace, seeming in no great hurry. It was quite late, but the moon shone brightly on the summer night, and she could see both men quite clearly.

"When I first saw you in London," Roderick Marlow began, "I thought I was imagining things. Why did you run from me?"

"I should think that somewhat obvious."

Is it? n "Well, I worried you might a" She darted a look at him. "That is, I thought you woulda"

"Ali." He nodded his understanding. "You thought I would stand on the orchestra stage and tell the venerable a.s.sembly that Miss Haswell was not the privileged, accomplished young lady they imagined her, but rather the cleverest, loveliest, most loyal lady in all of Wilts.h.i.+re."

That was not the response she'd expected. What had come over the man? Was he foxed? Did she need remind him of the exquisite redhead waiting at Marlow House?

She acted on this notion. "And when I first saw you in London, you were with Miss Powell."

"I suppose she is rather hard to miss."

"She is very beautiful."

Marlow looked off into the pa.s.sing countryside. "Yes, and very aware of that fact."

*All the lads in the village are quite agog, I understand. My brother and my father's apprentice that is, his former apprentice are both quite taken with her."

"I suppose the young men in this county have rarely seen such a woman.

"Will they be a seeing her often?" Lilly was curious about the former fiance Miss Whittier had mentioned, but knew it would be impolite to ask him.

He looked at her and smirked. "If she has her way, yes. I believe they will see a great deal of her. You know we Marlows live to please the villagers."

She raised her eyebrows.

Feigning indignation, he said, "My father is highly respected among them do you deny it?"

"Of course not. Sir Henry is admired by all."

"It is only me you take issue with?"

"You do seem improved with age. You certainly appear charming."

"You find me charming. I am pleased to hear it. But you think it only a surface charm? That beneath this facade, I am a ?"

He looked at her, waiting while she studied him. She thought of the pills they made in her father's shop, with their sugar pastes and silver coatings. Pretty to look at, sweet on the surface, but still just as bitter within.

"I pray I am wrong."

Surprisingly, he let that go. "Pray often, do you?"

"Not as often as I should." Nor as often as I once did.

Cecil turned the horses toward the north, she noticed, toward Alton. Why was he not simply driving straight into the village?

"What do you pet.i.tion for, Miss Haswell? What worldly troubles press themselves upon your heart? Starving orphans in London? Slavery in Spain, perhaps? The war with France?"

"No, I am afraid my small prayers are of a far narrower scope. My father. Brother. My dear friend Mary." She did not mention her mother, though she could have. She was still distracted by the unexpected detour.

"What about dear Mary moves you to pray?"

"She struggles with epilepsy a falling sickness. Do you not remember?"

"Oh yes. That girl who has fits."

Her concern was instantly replaced with irritation. "She is not that girl. She is Mary Helen Mimpurse. The cleverest girl I know. The gentlest, truest friend. The daughter of a war hero and the finest woman in Bedsley Priors well you are acquainted with her mother."

"Maude Mimpurse's daughter? I had forgotten. Forgive me, I meant no disrespect to your Miss Mary Mimpurse. My, how diverting to say that. Miss Mary Mimpurse. Miss Mary Mimpurse a"

She found herself chuckling with him and noted they were now driving on a narrow track east.

He suddenly sobered. "By your own admission, the list of beneficiaries of your prayers is quite small. Would you consider adding another? "

"You, sir?"

He pulled a frown, brows raised, "You think I need prayers?"

"We all do, sir. Some more than others."

"Miss Lillian Haswell, I do believe you are teasing me."

She grinned.

"Actually, I meant my father. He has fallen ill again. That smug Dr. Foster spent half the morning at his side."

How foolish she felt now. "Of course I shall pray for your father."

"Thank you." They rode on in silence for several moments. Lilly realized that after their brief detour, Cecil had again turned south toward Bedsley Priors.

Marlow said, "But if you happened to mention my name to G.o.d now and again, I should not object."

She smiled. "I shall ask Him to give you humility."

He cleared his throat. "Let us not ask for a miracle right off, shall we? "

She laughed.

"But of course a you Haswells call down miracles at will is that not right? Your father, the legendary healer and all that. Bringing my own grandfather back from the dead, as they say."

Lilly bit her lip, then whispered, "That was a long time ago."

They made the final turning down the High Street.

"Well, here we are," he said. "I cannot remember when I've so enjoyed a carriage ride."

"Nor I. But then, we haven't a proper carriage."

He gave a dry bark of laughter. "Here I think I am about to receive a compliment, and she pulls the chair out from under me at the last."

Cecil reined in the horses in front of the shop.

"Hold there, Briggs." Marlow alighted from the carriage, lowered the step himself, and offered his hand to her. She swallowed but placed her gloved hand in his. With a gentle grip, he a.s.sisted her down and walked her to the front door.

Retrieving her hand, she looked up at him squarely. "Then here is a genuine compliment. Thank you for your fair treatment of my brother. More than fair. And for your gallant behavior toward me this very evening."

He bowed. "You are most welcome." He leaned near, and she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Quietly, he added, "Now go inside before I attempt something less than gallant."

She hurried to comply.

In the morning, Lilly walked over to the coffeehouse, letting herself in the kitchen door as she always had.

"How did it go last night? " Mary asked, pouring her a cup of coffee.

"It was really very pleasant. Mr. Marlow was quite gentlemanly, even though he had a house party in progress when I arrived uninvited. He even insisted I stay for dinner. I was so glad you'd dressed my-"

"I meant how did it go about Charlie?"

"Oh." Lilly felt foolish but continued on, "Fine. Perfect. He was quite magnanimous about the whole situation."

"Magnanimous," Mary repeated, somewhat skeptically.

"He said Charlie would be welcomed back at any time."

"Roderick Marlow said that?"