Lilith and the Stable Hand

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Lilith and the Stable Hand Page 6

by Samantha Holt


  “Coffee is just fine, really.” Lilith placed the cup down on the side table, the cup still almost full. “But I am imposing, and you have enough to do.” She put the book next to the cup. “Please do give this to Maisie when she awakens and tell her I am thinking of her.”

  “Oh, do not rush off on my account,” Iris flustered. “I am sure I could rustle up—”

  Lilith pressed a hand to Iris’s arm. “Perhaps I can visit when you are both well and recovered?”

  Iris nodded eagerly. “Maisie would love it and I would appreciate the female company to be sure.”

  Harry resisted the urge to rub a hand across his face. Why Iris would encourage a visit from Lady Lilith, he did not know. Maisie would talk of it incessantly and it would not pass their neighbors notice that a lady had called on them not once but twice.

  “Harry, you should walk Lady Lilith home, I think,” his sister insisted. “There have been some reports of theft near the woods recently.”

  “Actually, I intended to stop by the orphanage. They have their hands full with this illness,” Lilith explained.

  Iris’s brows rose. “Your brother does not mind you doing that? Does he not fear you will sicken, my lady?”

  Lilith shook her head and smiled. “I have a strong constitution.”

  “You should still accompany Lady Lilith, Harry.” His sister gave him a nudge with an elbow. “She will have to go past the woods to get to the orphanage.”

  Harry resisted rolling his eyes. There had been one minor incident in the woods recently with a young lad trying to hold up a gentleman with a large stick. Suffice to say, the lad had been unsuccessful and had received a beating from said stick. But his sister liked to fear the worst.

  “I’ll take you up to the road,” he offered. Any further and they were at risk of being spotted together. He would not damage her reputation for anything in the world and no matter how harmless their interactions might be, there was nothing this village liked more than gossip.

  If only his thoughts were as harmless.

  Lilith remained quiet as they made their way down the track away from his single-story dwelling. When he had first arrived in Hampshire, his sister had been living there alone, barely able to keep a roof over her head. He’d made significant improvements now, but it always ate into him that she had been living destitute for so long while he lived with his family in Northumberland in relative comfort. They had not been rich by a long stretch, but they had warm clothes and a fire when needed.

  If things went the way he planned, they would have more than a warm fire. The living that came with being head groom was about the finest a man of his profession could get. He’d be well-respected too. Not quite high up enough in society to be worthy of a lady like Lilith, but for him, it would be several steps up.

  “Your sister looks a little better,” Lilith said, splitting the silence and forcing him from his thoughts.

  “Yes, though she’s still tired. Maisie can be challenging work, though, so it’s not surprising.”

  “She’s at an age where she wants to know everything.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, and she wants to know it all right now.”

  Lilith giggled. “Naturally. I know I used to drive Thorney mad with all my questions. I probably still do, I suppose.”

  It jarred him to hear the marquis called Thorney. He was not unaware of Lilith’s nickname for him, but he never thought of Lord Thornefield as anything other than lord or marquis.

  A rustle in the trees set him on alert. He snatched Lilith’s hand and drew her in between the trees, tucking her against a tree.

  “What is it?” Her eyes were wide behind her spectacles.

  “A noise.” He peered around the trees and shook his head. “Iris’s fear of the woods must be getting to me. There’s nothing there…” His words vanished when he looked at her.

  Gray eyes searched his. A gap of no more than a foot separated them. Her body seemed to draw him in, beckoning him to his doom. He closed the gap and stroked a finger over her cheek.

  “So soft,” he murmured.

  Her palms were pressed against the bark. Her lips parted. He saw her throat work. Lilith closed her eyes while he traced a path with one finger down her neck and paused at the dip in her collar bone. He could see her pulse hammering furiously at the base of her neck.

  The delicate, subtle movement of the blood rushing beneath her skin jarred him. What the hell was he doing? She opened her eyes as he backed off. Her fingers curled around his arm.

  “No.”

  He froze. “No?”

  “Just hold me. Please?”

  Hold her? How could he refuse? How could he accept? If he held her, he’d want more. But her eyes pleaded with him and he had no choice. He took her into his arms, tucking her head against his chest. Her softness against his hardness made his jaw tense. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sank into him. Why did this have to feel so bloody right?

  It wasn’t right. It was wrong. He broke away, hardly able to look at her. “We had better hurry. You have an orphanage to get to.”

  Chapter Nine

  Chandeliers shimmered and floors gleamed. The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of cigars, perfume, and warm bodies. Laughter and orchestral music seemed too loud, too jarring. Every time a woman’s cackle rang in her ears, Lilith winced.

  A gentleman grabbed her, elegant in his eveningwear. She didn’t recognize him. In fact, she recognized no one. Their faces were muddied, swirled into a mish mash of features that she could not see. The man whirled her around the ballroom before passing her onto another. Then another. Then another. Each man did a turn of the room until she was dizzy and nauseated. She tried to wriggle away, to free herself from their holds but none would release her.

  “Please,” she begged.

  A face came into focus, standing to the side, watching her.

  “Harry, please…help.” The words came weakly and never reached him.

  He remained in one spot, his arms folded, a pained expression on his face. Lilith’s vision grew dark and spotty and she collapsed to the floor, retching over the beautiful marble. Laughter and jeering grew deafening and when she looked up everyone was pointing at her. Everyone apart from Harry. He shook his head and pressed through the crowds.

  “Harry…”

  “Lil!” Someone nudged her from behind. She glanced up to see Catherine hovering over her. “Lil,” her friend repeated and jabbed her shoulder with a finger.

  Lilith frowned and rubbed the spot she had pressed.

  “Lil, come on.” She poked her again.

  The ballroom faded, and Lilith became aware of the pillow behind her and the hard press of the chaise longue arm against her legs. Another poke to her shoulder, and she opened her eyes to find Catherine peering down at her.

  “It’s not like you to sleep during the day.”

  Lilith grimaced and pushed herself up. “I struggled to sleep last night. I only meant to close my eyes for a few minutes.”

  “Is there something on your mind?” Catherine eyed her. “You have been odd lately. Are those silly newspapers still bothering you?”

  “No, no. I am fine, I promise. I was just…concerned for the orphans.”

  Which was true. In part. After her visit to the orphanage the other day, she had been pondering how to help. It was only a small orphanage but served many towns and villages in the area. They had more children than they could really cope with which was hard enough when the children were well but most of them had fallen foul to this sickness that was sweeping the area.

  What she could not tell Catherine was she could not stop thinking of Harry. Of how his body felt pressed against hers. Of how her stomach whirled when she thought of him or how her senses seemed to go on alert whenever he was around. How could she tell her? Catherine might be her closest and dearest friend but there was no chance she would understand.

  Not to mention, she was married to Lilith’s brother—
and more importantly Harry’s employer. She would not risk his job for anything.

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Thorne had Mr. Rowley send over some food. Hopefully with a good meal, the children will recover quickly.”

  “Oh, I shall have to thank him.”

  “Thank him later. We are late already.” Catherine flung a spencer jacket at Lilith.

  She fumbled to catch the jacket and frowned. “Late?”

  Catherine propped hands on hips. “To go to Julia’s, remember? We have more planning to do.”

  “Oh, yes. Planning. For the ball.”

  “Yes. Planning. For the ball,” Catherine repeated. “I swear, Lil, something is not right with you. Once upon a time all you could talk of was wretched balls and dances and handsome men.”

  “I suppose I have lost interest a little. You cannot blame me.”

  “I know your debut did not go as planned but this one will be perfect, I promise. Now put your jacket on, we need to leave.”

  Indecision pulled at her. It was not that she did not enjoy Catherine and her sisters’ company but they seemed to think that this ball was entirely for her—which it was not and had never been. But they were all determined to make up for the disaster which was her coming out ball. Lilith felt guilty to realize she did not care one jot for it. Even if it was not a disaster, the idea of mingling with people who had already cast their judgement over her made her stomach burn.

  “Would you…would you mind if I was a little late?”

  Catherine frowned. “Why?”

  “I must stop by the orphanage first. I cannot stop thinking of those sick children.”

  Catherine shook her head with a smile. “Are you sure you are not ill? We all know you have a soft heart, but I did not think anything could take the place of balls and parties.”

  “Then you must think me shallow indeed.”

  Her friend’s frown deepened. “Never. Goodness, Lil, I do not know what to do with you. You are the strangest bean I have ever met.”

  “I’m not trying to be,” Lilith protested. “And I’m not a bean.”

  Catherine laughed. “I am trying to tease you.” She waved a hand. “Go be with your sick children if you like. I shall make your excuses to my sisters. I understand that you do not want to spend time with your dearest, dearest friend.” She pouted with exaggeration.

  “You know I love you, Kitty.”

  “So you better had.” Catherine tossed a red curl over her shoulder. “Not only am I your very best friend, but I am your sister now, and the kindest, loveliest, wittiest person you could ever meet. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  Lilith giggled. “Oh yes, there’s no doubting there. You certainly are the kindest, loveliest…?” She paused. “What else was it?”

  “Wittiest.”

  “Wittiest person I could ever meet. I am lucky to have you in my life indeed.”

  Catherine grinned. “Excellent. Now I had better dash. Julia will be mad if I am late. I swear she only arranges these gatherings so early to spite me.”

  Lilith glanced at the clock. It was past lunchtime and working its way into the afternoon. Not late at all. But Catherine was notorious for preferring night hours. When she could, she would spend hours with Thorney, looking up at the stars from their new telescope or going out to view them from the gardens. Lilith liked the starts but she never quite understood Catherine’s fascination—or her brother’s new-found interest—with the night skies.

  “Toodle-loo,” Catherine chirped as she left.

  Lilith gave her friend and vague wave and snatched up her spencer before thrusting her arms determinedly into the jacket. Memories of that odd dream rang in her mind. She knew there would be no place better to forget it all than the orphanage and if she could only do some good there, she would feel much better about those poor children.

  Setting off at a determined pace, she reached the building within half an hour of leaving. The orphanage was a red brick affair that had once been a school building but had fallen out of use once another school had opened closer to the village. Tucked away on a back road that led to the village and surrounded by grass, it was ideal for housing those children without families.

  Mrs. Hartledge opened the door. With steely gray hair, wire framed glasses that were slightly crooked and a long nose, the woman gave across an air of no nonsense. Her brows rose when she saw Lilith. She had a thick Somerset accent, despite the fact she had lived in Hampshire for many years after her husband died.

  “Lady Lilith, I did not expect to see you today. Why, we only just had a visit from you.”

  Lilith twined her hands together. “I know but I thought…well, that is, I thought I might be of some help. I know you are struggling to look after the sick children. I…I have some experience with children.”

  “Well, I do not see what harm you could do but I would not want Lord Thornefield blaming us for making you ill.”

  “He will not, I promise. I have a strong constitution anyway. I am rarely sick.”

  Mrs. Hartledge gave a shrug. “Be it on your head. This sickness is beating everyone. Even Mr. Fletcher came down with it last week. He is still on his sickbed which means we are having to take on his duties too.”

  Lilith grimaced. Without the caretaker, the ladies of the orphanage had to be overwhelmed with work. Lilith could not do all of Mr. Rowley’s work, but she would certainly help where she could.

  She peeled off her jacket and hung it on the hook in the doorway. The scent of lemon and a sickly odor hung about the place. Normally it was scented with lavender and soap but no doubt without the caretaker to clean the building, the women were struggling to keep on top of it all.

  “You get back to work, Mrs. Hartledge,” Lilith told the woman. She undid her bonnet and hung it up with her jacket. “I will see what I can do to help.”

  Mrs. Hartledge pushed her ill-fitting glasses up her nose. “As you will, my lady. Far be it for me to turn down a helping hand.”

  Lilith made her way across the courtyard to the sick room. Normally there were only a handful of children in there at a time, but it was crowded with extra beds. The children ranged in ages from tiny babies to those who would be off looking for work before long. The older ones mostly slept off their illness, but the younger ones suffered particularly, and several were crying with fever.

  The two women nursing the children accepted her help with gratitude. Ruby and Mary-Jane both showed signs of fatigue with dark rings under their eyes and hair sticking out from under their caps at all angles. Lilith was tempted to shoo them outside for some fresh air and a cup of tea but even she did not think she could manage all these sick children on her own.

  Hours passed, and Lilith damped down brows, cuddled crying children, changed bedding, and spoon fed those who were too weak to eat. She cradled a little boy to her chest and sung a soft lullaby to him. He stuffed a thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes while she rocked him. Her heart stretched at the trust he placed in her as he drifted off to sleep, sucking furiously on his thumb.

  “My lady?” Mary-Jane said softly. “It is getting late. I would not have you walk home in the dark.”

  Lilith peered out of the window to see the sun had begun to drop. Her stomach gave a growl as if to remind her of the time and how close to supper it was. She eased the little boy from her chest and tucked him in.

  “I did not realize it was so late,” Lilith whispered back.

  “You had better make haste, my lady. It’s not safe for you to be out late.”

  “Yes, I’d better had.” Lilith stood and glanced around at the children. “I shall call again tomorrow if you do not mind.”

  “Mind?” laughed Mary-Jane. “Why should we mind? You have been a wonderful help today.”

  “Oh good. I was worried I might get in the way, but I hated feeling so useless when I knew there were all these sick children.”

  “I actually had a chance to sit and have a cup of tea, my lady. I think that was my fir
st in three days.”

  “Well, hopefully you shall have another chance tomorrow.” Lilith gathered her jacket and bonnet. Fatigue made her mouth dry and she had only just realized her feet were sore but she could not help smile. For the first time in her life, she had felt useful and really, truly wanted.

  Chapter Ten

  “Shhh.” Iris pressed a finger to her lips and indicated into the bedroom as Harry opened the door to the house.

  He closed it gingerly, wincing when the weight of it made a thud. Maisie liked to wait up for him to come home most nights but if she was asleep, he would not wake her for the world.

  “She’s had a busy day,” his sister said. “I think she’s back to full health.”

  “And back to full energy no doubt,” he replied with a grin.

  Iris nodded. “I’m not sure where she gets it from. I’m certain neither your or I were that energetic as children.”

  “You are forgetting when you used to run off into the moors. I was always sent to find you, remember?”

  Iris chuckled and adopted an innocent expression. “I do not recall that at all. I think you’re making that up.” She laid out a plate and cutlery for him on the large table in the center of the kitchen. “You know, she will not stop speaking of Lady Lilith. She has carted that book around with her everywhere today.”

  Harry suppressed a sigh. It was not that he didn’t appreciate Lilith’s generosity, but he could not let Maisie get too attached. If Lilith found some rich, titled gentleman at the ball in a month’s time, she’d be married before long and following her husband wherever he went.

  A fine reason for him to forget her too.

  Iris placed a bowl of hot vegetable soup in front of him and sawed off a slice of bread and put it on the plate. His stomach grumbled in appreciation. His sister watched while he devoured the food, shaking her head in dismay when it vanished in an instant.

  “I take it you did not eat today?”

  He shrugged. “No time.” He dabbed his mouth with the napkin she’d laid out for him. “And you cannot blame me. You always were a fantastic cook.”

 

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