His smile tickled her stomach. His laugh fluttered her heart. How could she ever tell him the truth?
How could she not? There was no doubt of his intentions or where his flirtations would lead if she did not stop this silliness soon. He would accuse her of toying with his sensibilities. It was only a matter of time when he would turn from her without acknowledging her existence. People like him did not acknowledge people like her.
He turned to her, then, as though feeling her eyes admiring the slope of his shoulders, the tapered waist, the lithe but strong thighs molded with tailored breeches. With a brief word to Lizbeth, he distanced from her and closed the space to Lilith, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Shall I shield you from the wind?” he jested.
“You assume I need a knight in shining armor?” she teased.
“I hope you want one rather than need one. Alas, we’re short on knights today. Would a baron in walking attire do?”
She threw her head back and laughed. When she returned her gaze to his, her heart skipped a beat to see those long eyelashes framing green orbs. His eyes reflected the sunlight, full of hope and promise.
“What do you make of the facilities?” Walter asked, leaning against the half-wall, a gloved hand resting on the stone.
“Curious. Illuminating. I would have liked to spend more time with Dr. Sharp, but I can see he is a busy man and easily fatigued. I may ask my brother to bring me here again should Sharp have the time.”
Walter nodded. “Now that you’ve seen what all you can accomplish, you must have a plethora of ideas churning in your mind.”
Lilith furrowed her brows, confused. “All I can accomplish? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“No? I was certain you were planning during the whole of the tour. Would it not be fulfilling to manage a place such as this?” Walter asked.
“Manage it? Walter, I’m a parish midwife,” she said with an incredulous laugh. “I’m not in a position to manage anything, much less a place of this size. Fulfilling, yes, but for someone like Dr. Sharp, not for me.”
“You’re only seeing the now. Think of the future. Think bigger, Lilith!” he exclaimed, his eyes glowing with an inner light, his smile eager. “You could make a more significant impact with a facility such as this than you can as a parish midwife.”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand. I haven’t the means or connections to do more than what I do now.”
“You have a family who supports you, and with that, there is no limit to what you can accomplish. I know you want to be useful, and I know you don’t want to sit idle. But you must realize you cannot continue as a midwife.” He paused, as though waiting for her to confirm.
When she made no reply, he removed his tricorn to run a hand through his curls and said, “Ladies are not midwives. It’s unseemly. You don’t have to lose the joy of helping others if you think on a larger scale. Instead of being the midwife, you could establish an entire school for midwives, a hospital that uses your techniques. Don’t you see?”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
That was not true. She did see what he was saying, and it frightened her.
It frightened her because of how much she wanted it. Not a hospital or school, exactly, but something. It would be a monumental undertaking. But oh, how fulfilling indeed, just as Walter said. It was not so simple, though. She could not snap her fingers and be what she was not.
With the sunlight brightening the red in his curls in most attractive ways, Walter continued, “There would be some talk regarding your direct involvement, but it would be entirely within the realm of possibility for a lady of your station to patronize such an establishment and visit regularly. Your reach would be much farther than the women and children of a single parish.”
Her smile faltered.
He was right. As Lady Lilith, she could accomplish so much more. He saw what she had been unable to see, so focused as she was on the past and her immediate reality. But what was she supposed to do? Announce to the world she was Lady Lilith? Be trained this late in life as to how to conduct herself in polite society? It was preposterous! Aside from the fact that it would be a lie since she was not a lady, too many people knew the truth to make it feasible.
Sebastian and Lizbeth could claim as the day was long that she was legitimate, but it would only take one word of doubt. Too many people knew. What if her mother showed up after all these years? What if the Reverend Sands said something? And there were her and Sebastian’s aunt and cousin, the Dowager Duchess of Annick and her son the Duke of Annick, not to mention the duke’s wife. They knew, and they wielded a great deal of power.
Yes, Sebastian’s mother had raised Lilith as her own. Yes, she had presented Lilith to the world as the legitimate daughter of the Earl and Countess of Roddam. But then life changed. Now, she and others knew the truth. She could not turn back the clock and be what she was not.
If she could, would she?
If Walter accepted her as she was, would she, in turn, accept him?
His words were beyond tempting. He was beyond tempting. With a cause greater than she at her fingertips, if only she had the courage to grasp it, it seemed selfish not to try.
Looking back to him, his body leaning forward in anticipation of her response, she returned the smile and said, “I believe that with your vision and my planning, we could take the world by storm.”
The tips of his ears turned red. “You said we.”
Chapter 8
Lady Freya flailed her fists, a spontaneous smile with spittle on her lips. Lilith rocked her, wiping the drool with deft hands.
Alas, this was a losing battle. Sleep was the furthest activity from the babe’s mind. Given Freya’s antics with the loose strands of Lilith’s hair and a few awkward attempts to suckle Lilith’s dress, the transfer from Auntie Lilith to Mama would need to be soon. Wanting to give Lizbeth and Sebastian a bit more time together since their private moments were few and far between these days, Lilith made her best attempts to distract the increasingly fussy babe who was showing her usual signs of disinterest in all but the search for her mother’s teat.
In as lyrical a voice as Lilith could manage, considering she was anything but musically inclined, she sang.
Bobby Shafto’s looking out,
All his ribbons fly about,
All the ladies gave a shout,
Horray for Boy Shafto!
For her efforts, she received a jab to the chin. Chuckling, she kissed Freya’s nose. This time, she was awarded tiny fingers with sharp nails pulling at her bottom lip. Oh, the joys of being an auntie, she thought with warmth, love, and a touch of sarcastic humor.
Offering her finger for Freya to grip, Lilith leaned back in the chair and gazed out the window to the meres beyond. The slender drive winding its way between the meres to the first gatehouse could just be made out from this distance. In fragmented memory, she could recall the view from her own nursery at Roddam Hall.
It had looked out to a weedy garden, one that might have been glorious a generation or two earlier but had been left to ruin. Though Lilith searched through her memories, she could not recall if her mother, or should she say Sebastian’s mother, had ever visited the nursery. She did not think so. A nurse lived there full-time, a new nurse nearly every year. If her father dismissed them, or if they refused to work for him, she could not say, but she distinctly remembered a rotation of nurses over the years.
No, she could not recall her mother ever visiting the nursery. Jane Lancaster had rarely left her private sitting room. At the time, being only a child, Lilith had thought little of it. She always knew where to find her mama, and that suited her quite well. Together, they would play-act in fancy dress, she pretending to be a princess and Mama pretending to be a visitor from another kingdom. Such memories had kept her lying awake at night when living at the orphanage. As the years passed,
the memories faded, becoming more mysterious, for she convinced herself the woman at the tea table must have been a figment of her imagination since mothers did not abandon their daughters to orphanages.
As an adult who better understood some of the situation and who knew Jane had died around the same time Lilith had been sent to the orphanage, she knew the woman, her mother for a time, was most certainly real and not a figment. But why had she rarely left her sitting room? Had she been avoiding encounters with Lord Roddam? Had she been ill?
A strange wetness startled Lilith. Looking down, she found Freya trying to suckle the dress. There was no denying this little one a minute longer. She rose from the chair just as Freya scrunched her face in a silent wail, the stuttering cry delayed by at least a full minute.
This would teach her to wear a nice dress while caring for her niece.
Soothing Freya with coos, she trekked her way from the north wing to the west and up to the lord’s bedchamber, by which time, Freya had stopped crying but was displaying her displeasure by kicking Lilith’s arm. The door was ajar. If it had been closed, she would have knocked, but ajar it stood.
Without pausing, she pushed against the wood and entered the chamber, stopping short when she caught sight of the couple.
Sebastian and Lizbeth stood in the middle of the room, not far from the bed. The fact they were standing was a blessing. The two were caught in an embrace to end all embraces, one of his arms wrapping around Lizbeth’s waist, the other palming the back of her head. Lizbeth’s own arms snaked up her husband’s back. With bodies pressed against each other, thankfully clothed, they shared a kiss far from chaste.
Lilith’s eyes widened, her heart pounded, and her face flamed with the horror of having interrupted them.
For a moment, she could not move to absent herself. She could not tear her eyes from them. All she could do was stare with a near painful longing, a hunger to be kissed like that, loved like that, part of a whole, desired passionately without reservation.
She gave herself a mental shake. With one silent step backwards, and then another, she inched her way to the door, fully intending on hiding behind it before knocking firmly. They need never know what she witnessed. Freya had other ideas. With a masterful cry, she let out an ear-splitting squall. Lilith squeezed her eyes shut and cringed, not at Freya’s rhythmic wail, but at having been discovered.
Peeking her eyes open, she saw her brother coming towards her wearing a sardonic grin. Lizbeth, she noticed, stayed put, pressing her palms to her cheeks.
Sebastian relieved her of the bundle of screeching joy. “Care for a change of scenery?” he asked as he hoisted Freya against his shoulder, his hand holding the back of baby’s head.
“Are you trying to get rid of me, ‘Bastian? Think you’ll replace me as midwife with yourself?” she teased with a solitary tut, still feeling self-conscious.
“You’re not off the hook so easily. Hazel has been pestering me all morning about lawn bowls. After Freya’s down for a nap, fancy a game?”
“Ah, I see. Yes, that does sound lovely.”
With a wink, he said, “Change into something more comfortable, eh?”
She suspected she need not point out a change of attire would be necessary, lawn bowls or not. The front of her dress was quite wet from Freya’s determined efforts to find food.
Sebastian presented his daughter to Lizbeth with a courtly bow before leaving the room.
With Lilith’s help, Liz situated herself on the bed. Once settled, a contented babe nestled in the crook of her mother’s arm, Liz said, “You must play on my behalf today. I do believe Freya and I will take a very long nap after feeding.”
Since a nap was customary after feeding, Lilith would have thought nothing of it had Lizbeth not turned nearly crimson from neck to hairline at what needing a nap implied about her recent expenditure of energy. Realizing the implication, Lilith, too, blushed.
Not wanting to embarrass either of them, Lilith busied herself by ringing Liz’s lady’s maid for tea, mixing in her herbs to speed Liz’s recovery, and setting up a chair by the bed.
Once seated with her own teacup, Lilith questioned, “Are you feeling less fatigued?” She had noted how much livelier her sister-in-law was looking with each passing day.
“Oh, yes. I’ve been sleeping better, as well. We all have. Your schedule is genius, I’m sure,” Liz said. “I do have a question, though. I—”
When her sister-in-law stopped, Lilith reached over to touch her shoulder.
“Yes? What is it? Don’t hold back, especially if it’s about your health.”
“It is. In a way. But it’s delicate, and I’m not altogether certain it’s something I should ask you. Only, you’re my midwife. How horribly complicated I’m making this.” Liz combed Freya’s silken hair with her fingers.
“Come now. You can ask me and tell me anything. I can’t help if you don’t disclose all.”
“You’re right. But if this makes you uncomfortable, or if I should not share, please, stop me. Here goes.” Liz took a deep breath. “It’s not that I’m ready, yet, but I was wondering when I might, you know, feel ready again and how I will know I’m ready.” She said the last few words in barely a whisper.
Lilith nearly choked on her tea.
“You mean sex?” Lilith asked dumbly. How foolish. Of course, she meant sex. “Lizbeth, you had a baby less than two weeks ago. You need time to heal. It could be months before you feel ready again. It will take time for your body to adjust. I say this next bit as your midwife, not as your sister-in-law. If he’s pressuring you, I advise pushing him off for at least another week.”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. You mustn’t think that of him. He is a saint of support, patience, and love. It’s just, well….”
Liz trailed off, looking as embarrassed as Lilith felt, though Lilith tried as she might to wear her clinical expression. It seemed silly to be embarrassed over such a topic when she had these conversations with patients often, usually since their husbands refused to wait, especially when the babe was a girl rather than the desired heir. She knew her brother was not that type of man, but she was embarrassed because this topic did involve her brother. There were some things she would rather not know about her sibling.
Liz sighed and said, “It’s only, well, for a moment, it was getting close to Freya’s feeding time, and I felt inexplicably, shall we say, sensitive. He barely touched me, and I was of a sudden desperate, almost frenzied with desire, but then, how should I put this, I, um, leaked, and then was so terribly embarrassed…, well, I knew I should speak with you about it. I’m not making much sense, am I? The milk, you know. Is that normal? Leaking?” Liz had reverted to whispering.
This was not the first time she had been asked this by a new mother, nor would it be the last.
With a reassuring smile, Lilith said, “Perfectly normal. Your body and your baby are on the same schedule, remember. Both knew what time it was. It’s not uncommon to feel tender or emotional at the approach of feeding time. I suggest delaying marital intimacy, if possible, no matter how, er, sensitive you feel.”
“Oh.” Liz shifted Freya who had already fallen asleep mid-suckle. “Thank you. I mean it. Thank you.”
With a cloth on her lap, Lilith took the sleeping Freya into her arms, nestling the baby’s chest against her palm. She rubbed baby’s back then patted gently. Freya stirred from her slumber, groggy and grumpy. Only after the little lady cleared the air from her stomach did her Auntie Lilith rock her back to sleep and settle her in her baby bed, snug as a bug.
Lilith returned to her seat beside Lizbeth so they might finish their tea before she left Liz in peace. Though their conversations were always punctuated with baby care and medical questions, Lilith valued their time together. She had never had a friend, much less a sister. Over the past year, Liz had become both, and she cherished their conversati
on time.
“While we’re being blunt,” Liz said after a taste of her tea, “I was curious if you’ve developed a tèndre for Walter.”
The question was such a non sequitur, Lilith rattled her teacup against its saucer.
“I do beg your pardon,” Liz said after seeing how shaken Lilith was. “It is none of my business and rude of me to ask.”
Lilith could feel Lizbeth’s eyes trained on her, though she did not look up from her teacup to meet those eyes. She would not ordinarily feel bashful, and certainly not with Lizbeth who never spoke in innuendos or polite euphemisms, but given Lilith had only a short time ago witnessed a kiss of the likes she had never before seen, all while thinking of what it might be like to kiss Walter in such a way, she felt beyond bashful.
The tea licked the sides of the cup as Lilith tipped the saucer this way and that.
“Now that I have asked,” Liz said, “I shan’t retract it. You can’t deny he shows a marked interest in you. Are his advances welcome?”
With a sigh, Lilith met Lizbeth’s eyes. “They are. But to what end?”
Liz tilted her head to one side and studied Lilith. “Do you think him insincere?”
“Oh, no, nothing of the sort. I believe his intentions are honorable. But I question my own. It seems dishonest to encourage his attentions when the only answer I can ever give him is no.”
Liz pushed herself against the wooden headboard of the four-poster bed, sitting up straighter though her eyelids were beginning to droop. “If you’re interested, and if he’s interested, why would you say no?”
“Come now, Lizbeth. We may be in our own corner of the world at the moment, but the real world is out there, and at some point, we must face the reality of that world. I would never be accepted.”
“Nonsense,” Liz said. “You’ve always been and always will be Sebastian’s sister. Society would meet you as such, the daughter and sister of an earl. There are only a handful of people who know Jane wasn’t your birth mother, but she was your mother in every other sense. There’s nothing to stop you from living the life she intended for you. No one who knows would dare say a word against you. Have you told Walter?”
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