Chapter 35
Eight weeks later
Lily watched the moon make its appearance over the half-frozen pond of her father’s estate and shivered. Not from cold, for with her hand encased in Hamish’s large warm one, and his arm about her shoulders, she’d never felt warmer.
It was like a glow that radiated outwards, enveloping every part of her in a mantle of safety and security. Not a feeling she was used to enjoying.
“The moon reminds me of Celeste,” she murmured, resting her head upon Hamish’s shoulder as he stroked her cheek. “Cold and beautiful. I feel so terrible about what happened to her.”
Hamish sighed. “Poor girl. The police never did learn who she was or where she came from. It could have been a place like this…” he made a sweeping motion of the acres of rolling pasture lands that belonged to Lord Lambton “…or the gutter. But she lived dangerously, and her efforts at garnishing her wages at Madame Chambon’s by selling secrets cost her her life.” He cleared his throat and drew her closer against him. “Or worse…they nearly cost you yours.”
“Poor Mr Renquist,” said Lily with a sigh. “If he’d not had red hair, he’d likely be sitting in front of his drawing fire right now.”
“With his harpy of a wife,” murmured Hamish, adding quickly, “though you’re right. Igor Novichov killed the wrong red-headed lover when he learned that Celeste was channelling his government’s sensitive information to the British Government.”
A family of ducks glided over the surface of the pond, bringing to mind the afternoon Hamish’s sister had stood by Lily’s side and tossed hunks of bread to the birdlife in Regent’s Park. Lucy had been Lily’s champion before Hamish had finally succumbed to the tension between them that Lily had felt so palpably before anything had actually happened.
“I’m so delighted your sister has found love, too,” she said, glad to change the subject to something happier.
“Oh, she’s been desperate to become Mrs Myers for years,” said Hamish. “That young man of hers just never earned enough to keep a wife. Well, not someone like my sister. Lucy would be miserable if she didn’t have a new bonnet or pair of gloves every two weeks.”
“So, you only said yes when he received a pay increase?”
“Did I not tell you, sweetheart?” Hamish looked into her eyes, his own creased with amusement. How different the composition of his features was these days. There was nothing repressed or button-up about her new husband in the six weeks since they’d said their vows at St Mary’s in a small, intimate ceremony.
Lord Lambton had given her away, and her new sister-in-law had wept buckets of tears, telling Lily at the reception that she, too, would soon enjoy her own happy day now that she’d received her brother’s blessing.
“No, you did not tell me, Hamish! Which makes me wonder what else you’ve neglected to mention.”
“I’ve neglected nothing important, I assure you, since my every waking thought has been devoted to mitigating the damage done by your cold and callous late husband.” He kissed her hand. “I was proud of you for refusing to don widow’s weeds and to agree to marry me before a twelvemonth was up.”
“Hamish! Did you think I wouldn’t?” she began before realising Hamish was teasing her. Hamish teased her often these days. Gone was the seriousness she’d thought was ingrained in his character. Gone, too, was the intensity and distrust she’d thought were ingrained in hers. Feeling lighthearted and looking forward to the day ahead was a thrilling novelty.
“No one expected you to,” Hamish said, sobering. “Not after the scandal broke when your husband launched his violent assault upon Teddy, and the truth about everything else came out.”
Neither Lily nor Hamish had known that Lily’s escape from the tavern in Dover had occurred just in time. For Sir Robert had arrived the morning afterwards, anticipating that by this time Teddy would have fixed the inconvenient problem that inadvertently made Sir Robert a bigamist.
Teddy had done Sir Robert’s bidding for years, dosing Lily with the potions that gave Robert the excuse to incarcerate her when her supposed madness became so public and extreme.
But when Mr Montpelier had kidnapped Lily, the Mother Superior at the maison in Brussels had, in terror for the reputation of the asylum, declared that Lily had died, and then provided false supporting documentation.
Lily’s arrival on the London spiritualist scene made it clear that the problem of Sir Robert’s wife had just assumed epic proportions now that Sir Robert had just married, and his new wife was expecting the child for which he so longed. Teddy had panicked when Sir Robert had threatened him, ordering him to fix the problem any way he chose.
“Poor Robert,” reflected Lily. “What a horrible way to die.”
“That’s remarkably charitable of you since you know that it was you who was supposed to be lying dead at the bottom of Dover’s lovely white cliffs.” There was no sympathy in Hamish’s tone when he added, “And if Teddy isn’t paying for the crimes he committed against you, at least he’s been locked up for a very long time for instigating the fight that led to the death of the terrible man whose bidding he did. A man who tried to destroy you. Then what would I have done?” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. “How would I have survived without you?” He sounded quite emotional, Lily was delighted to note. “You truly are my sun and my moon and my stars.”
“Oh Hamish, that’s so poetic.” She cupped his cheeks and kissed him on the mouth. “It sounds like something Mr Myers would say, if everything Lucy gushes about him is true.”
Hamish looked embarrassed as he straightened. “Actually, it is very similar to a line in a poem that Mr Myers has written for the magazine.”
“What? He’s writing for Manners and Morals?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Yes, I was moving onto that before I got distracted by how lucky I am to have you by my side, against all odds. Anything other than telling how I intend to make you the happiest wife in England seems unimportant, these days.” With a twinkle in his eye, he lightly pinched her cheek. “Mr Myers is my newest staff member, now earning a salary sufficient to keep my sister in bonnets and gloves, which was, in my eyes, the prerequisite to my giving consent to their marriage.” He smiled at Lily’s delight, adding, “And provided I’ve not made a grave miscalculation with regard to the new direction I’ve taken the newspaper, Mr Myers will have ever more editorial responsibilities as he covers the pleasurable aspects of London life, while still keeping our loyal readers happy.”
“Like Mrs Moore’s and Mr Montpelier’s séances,” said Lily, raising one eyebrow.
Hamish shrugged. “It was you who didn’t press for a conviction,” he reminded her.
“That’s because, the way I look at it, Mr Montpelier saved my life,” said Lily. “And although what he did was terrible, he did provide me with a roof over my head and enough freedom to meet you.”
“And an entertainment that reunited you with your real father.” The memory of that final séance was so moving that both Lily and Hamish were silent as they paused to reflect.
Slowly, Hamish went on, “When Archie got that scoop and took those heartbreakingly tender photographs of you and Lord Lambton at Mrs Moore’s séance, which I published against father’s wishes, Manners & Morals was given a new lease of life. We never sold so many copies.” He tightened his grip on her hand, and they turned in the direction of the house, Hamish’s mood elated. “And our readers are clamouring for more. Why, my dearest, as long as you continue to write your columns, and answer their letters with your own good advice, sprinkled with snippets from your incredible experiences, Manners & Morals will continue to outsell its competition, and Father won’t offer a word of complaint. He is, after all, a businessman at heart.”
“He’d be a much happier businessman if he’d realised a long time ago that there’s as much money to be made covering the more joyous aspects of life than just ramming down people’s throats how important it is to be good.”
“And that’s where my competitive streak comes in.” Hamish tightened his grip on Lily’s hand as he guided her along the narrowing path as it skirted the river, towards the gracious, mellow building that Lily now called her second home.
“I always thought you were competitive and driven, Hamish,” said Lily. “With not a pleasure-loving bone in your body.”
Hamish shrugged. “You’ve been a good influence on me then, haven’t you?” he said, lightly. “And you haven’t asked what my latest competitive project is.”
“Tell me?” Happily, she gazed up at him as the path widened and, side by side, they strolled towards the lights spilling in welcome rays from the windows of the house.
“Well, not only am I going to prove to father that Morals & Manners can make more money by offering the public stories of hope, rather than dire warnings and moralising, I’m going to make the magazine an agent for change.”
“An agent for change? That’s a strange term.”
“But it sounds very serious, don’t you think? Yes, now, I’m not sure if the public is ready for it. I very much doubt my father is. But I’m going to feature one lost soul each month.”
Lily loved the way Hamish’s eyes lit up when he grew excited. It always made her feel he could achieve anything. “Go on,” she encouraged.
His smile broadened. “Archie is going to help find these people and photograph them. People whom society has written off. But by writing their story, and promoting a reader’s fund for them, I hope to do what society won’t—provide them with a means of achieving their dreams, whether that’s getting an apprenticeship or a fruit barrow if they’re from the gutter.” His excitement grew. “Or a milliner’s business, or…a fashion empire! Even if they’re one of Madame Chambon’s girls.”
“My goodness, Hamish! I had no idea! How did you come up with such ideas!”
“It was all because of you, my love!” He stopped, clasped her hands in his and brought them up to his lips. For a long time, he simply gazed at her as if she truly were the most wondrous creature to grace his world. “Your courage, your ability to survive, your strength and forgiveness through all that’s happened.”
“Why, Hamish, you’re making me blush,” Lily whispered, feeling the burn of emotion that echoed in her own heart every sentiment he was uttering.
“It’s true, my own sweet love.” He cleared his throat, and in the moonlight, Lily saw the moisture in his eyes, though his voice was firm and strong again as he went on, “You’ve made me realise that no matter where you come from, Lily McTavish…and no matter how far you fall, and however dire the future seems…a shining new life really is possible—”
He would have gone on only she gripped his hand to stop him, putting a forefinger to his lips so she could add, “If such a person is fortunate enough to meet someone who believes in them.”
Faintly, in the distance, the sound of the dinner gong echoed across the frozen lawn.
Hamish raised his face to look at the house. “We should hurry, my love,” he said. “We don’t want to keep your father waiting.” Gently, he rested his hand on her belly, adding, “And you must be starving if, as the doctor believes, you’re eating for two.”
THE END
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Grace Fortune trusts no one after she was betrayed by the man she once loved.
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Honour? Or her heart's desire?
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Revenge is sweet until it breaks your heart.
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Abandoned at the altar, Max, Lord Belvedere believes he’s evaded family obligation in favour of a life of adventuring in Africa. But his ailing Aunt Euphemia has other ideas.
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Reluctant courtesan, Charity, has found true love with Hugo, her first and only client.
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Loving Lily: Fair Cyprians of London: a Steamy Victorian Romantic Mystery Page 23
