Persuasion (24 page)

rested against the ruffled and messy sheets.

Panting breaths were her only form of in- and exhalation and when Janie

hovered over the bed and glared down at her, she groaned weakly.

Instinctively knowing that a barrage of questions was about to come her

way.

“Did you eat oysters yesterday?” Janie asked suspiciously, peering at her as

though were she to answer yes, then Lily had just committed one of the

most grave crimes imaginable.

Lily lifted a hand and grabbed some of the bed sheet. She scrubbed it along

her sweaty forehead and grimaced as Janie knocked her hand away and

replace the damp sheet with a cold cloth.

She groaned with pleasure at the refreshing sensation and then switched her

thoughts to Janie's suspicious query. "Oh yes, for this just has to be my

fault, Janie, doesn't it!” Lily would not deny that her voice was sulky. “And

no, of course I didn't eat oysters. How old must you think I am?”

“Ten! If only you were, then I could smack your bottom again! For you've

done something to cause this . . . this . . . whatever it is. ”

Despite herself, she grinned. “You just try, Janie!” She sighed. “And why

must I have done something wrong?”

“Because young and healthy girls such as yourself do not suddenly start

casting up their accounts unless there is a very good reason.” Janie sighed

roughly. "If you tell me you ate oysters, I won't be angry. I promise, Miss

Lily,” she conceded in a tone of voice that managed to impart the fact that

she was being most generous.

This is what came of having a nursery maid as your lady's maid, Lily thought

with pursed lips and rolled her eyes at the thought. It meant that a woman

who had almost reached the age of spinsterhood, was still treated as though

she were naught but a child!

“I haven't eaten oysters!” It was her turn to snap. Her eyes popped open

and she glared at Janie.

The maid clicked her tongue and then tutted before returning her glare with

equanimity. “What did you eat then? The last time you were as ill as this,

you'd just eaten a tray of oysters and I had to clean up both yours and

Devlin's mess. You two were right terrors.” Janie pursed her lips and shook

her head at the memory. “It hasn't rained, so you can't have caught a chill.

Although, it has been rather gusty . . . .” Janie turned to look out of the

window. The sun was tepid but still there. “I've kept you wrapped tight as a

bug in a rug though, so it can't be that either.”

Janie tapped her fingers against her mouth and Lily took a moment to look

guilty. Janie might have done her best to keep her warm but had she not

been prancing around London with naught but a traveling cloak and

undergarments on as soon as darkness overcame the capital city?

“Well, I haven't eaten anything that could cause this kind of reaction! I am

quite sure that I would know if I had!” Lily hissed to hide her sudden guilt.

She shuddered at the memory Janie had inadvertently raised. To a point,

her maid was correct. To put her and Devlin together was to create two

monsters of the highest degree. Indeed, had they not chased away three

governesses very early on in their lives?

But in this case, she was not only embarrassed, but the thought of how ill

she had been after this particular escapade had her stomach churning once

again. Six years ago, they had stolen a tray of oysters from the pantry.

Oysters that had been earmarked for a rather grand crowd at a dinner party

their parents had been hosting. She and Devlin had gorged themselves on

the disgusting molluscs until they had both been queasy and had set about

settling their stomachs by dousing their livers in brandy. A remedy Devlin

had suggested and which, afterward, he had quite rightly regretted.

The urge to vomit rushed through her at the reminder. Janie had had to

force her to expel the contents of her stomach due to the sheer amount of

alcohol she had consumed and thereafter Devlin had had his allowance

withdrawn for three months as punishment.

The oysters hadn't agreed with her system and neither had the brandy.

She'd never touched the liqueur since and the only other time she had even

touched the shell of the mollusc, her skin had grown inflamed with small,

itchy sores.

“You must have eaten something, my girl! What is it?”

“Nothing!” she cried, exasperated. Yesterday after having received the letter

from her blackmailer, her appetite had been nil. Even when the cook had

sent up a small tray of chocolate and toast, Lily hadn't been able to manage

it. “I ate very little yesterday.”

“Your aunt asked me to watch over you this morning, Miss Lily, said you had

a head cold.” This was said with further suspicion.

What Janie imagined was happening within the confines of this bedroom, Lily

did not know. Indeed, she was quite certain that Janie's tone of voice could

have been used during the Spanish Inquisition!

“Yes. I did. Perhaps this is an ongoing symptom,” she remarked carefully,

ducking her head to stare down at the embroidered duvet that covered the

bottom half of her body and lay rumpled around the rest of her.

Tiredly, she pulled the cover over her a little more. To do so, she had to curl

upwards and reach for it, but it was apparently a move that her system

could not withstand. A sudden shiver rushed through her and before Janie

could continue to chide her, she quickly beckoned for the patterned bowl

once again and emptied her stomach for the third time that morning.

Groaning, she released the bowl into Janie's care and raised her knees so as

to allow her to press her face between the knobby bones. It was hardly a

comfortable position, but she knew that were she to lie down, it would cause

her naught but further suffering. To stretch her torso was to invite further

stomach pains.

Blindly waving her maid away, Lily breathed slowly and deeply in an attempt

to urge her body into serenity.

It worked, slightly. The gesture was enough to have her curling on to her

side thankfully and within seconds, Janie was tucking her into the blankets.

“You shall have to tell aunt that I'm not up to dealing with any visitors

today, Janie. Could you bring me some peppermint candies?" she asked, her

voice hoarse from her throat's mistreatment as she continued. "Ask Rodgers

to buy me some if we have none in the house, please, Janie. It might settle

my stomach and my mouth tastes absolutely revolting.”

“I think we should have some in the servants' quarters, miss.” Lily heard the

sound of footsteps and felt her hair being pushed away gently from her

perspiring forehead. “Why, you really are poorly, aren't you, my lamb?”

Miserably, Lily's lower lip stuck out in a pout and she nodded. “I feel awful,

Janie. And my stomach hurts.”

Janie hushed her and began to stroke her hair just as she had, when Lily

had been a little girl. “There, there. You rest well and I'll go and get you

those candies. If we don't have any, I'll have one of the gardeners cut me

some mint and we'll have a nice infusion of tea. That should ease your

stomach,” the maid whispered softly. “Just close your eyes and rest easy

until I return, my poor little lamb.”

Lily gulped but nodded and watched as Janie walked out of her rooms and

left her by herself. She wished her mother was here to kiss her cheek and

make her feel better, but she wasn't. Mama was in stasis at the estate and

not even an ill daughter could break her out of it.

She sighed and wondered if anxiety were causing this attack of nausea. It

could very well be. Stress and fear had more than likely combined to

produce this hideous physiological reminder of what she was mentally going

through! It was hardly perfect timing. As though it weren't enough to feel

stress and fear but to have her body physically reacting to it?

From it, she felt thoroughly exhausted.

Her lack of sleep merely exacerbated the sensation. She had slept naught

but three hours before she had awoken after a nightmare. Then she had

fallen asleep again, but awoken and this time with a bang. Scrambling out of

her sheets, Lily had almost fallen out of bed in her haste to seek an available

orifice in which she could cast up her accounts!

Janie had rushed in two minutes after she had rung for her and had taken

the priceless Ming vase that contained the nasty present of her illness and

returned with a porcelain bowl more fit for this kind of situation.

Over the last two hours, she had dazedly rolled around on the bed, unsure of

what to do to ease the feelings of sickness that roiled through her, which

combined with her fatigue, had her feeling as though death were at her

door!

Perhaps that was a slight exaggeration, but then, she was ill after all. Surely

that allowed her to slightly embroider the truth!

Indeed, she was quite sure that no other debutante in London was going

through the same hell as she was!

That was for damned certain!

She groaned as her stomach began to waltz again and rolled on to her back

as discomfort flooded her system. Just thinking of her predicament

confirmed that it was the root cause of her nausea.

Hearing the door open, her closed eyes flickered open and she peered

upwards to see Janie come forward bearing a tray. Groaning again as she

curled upwards and rested her back against a wall of pillows, she sighed as

Janie placed the tray over her knees.

There was a steaming pot of tea that looked as appetizing as mud, a paper

packet of peppermint sweets and then a plate of dry toast.

“The cook said the toast would ease and soothe your belly,” Janie remarked

as Lily picked up the bread as though it were a piece of card paper.

She wrinkled her nose but nodded and reached for the tea. The stench of

fresh greens overcame her, but she grimaced and quickly gulped at the hot

concoction. Swiftly, she stuffed a boiled sweet into her mouth and sighed as

the mint combated the nausea.

“Whose candies were they?” she asked quietly.

“Jessica, the parlor maid's, Miss Lily.”

“Would you give her a shilling to buy some more, please Janie?”

“A shilling? That's far too much!”

Lily waved a hand. “My gratitude is such that I would give her a sovereign if

I believed that you'd give it to her at all! I know you, Janie. You'll tell me

you gave this Jessica the coin and then leave it in my purse rather than

thank the girl for her generosity!”

Janie snorted. “A sovereign, indeed! I shall give the girl sixpence!”

“Do as you will! You do anyway!” she snapped.

Janie grinned and then lifted the plate of toast, which Lily had left

untouched. "You have another letter, Miss Lily.”

Any amusement Lily had felt at her maid's recalcitrant nature instantly

disappeared. She picked up the missive and turned it over. A blank seal.

Strangely, her nausea vanished as her nerves overwhelmed her. When a

cold sweat coursed over her flesh, Lily broke the wax joint and swallowed as

she read its contents.

A short, but definitely not sweet:

Tonight. 12 o'clock.

Nodding slightly, she inhaled roughly and stared at Janie as she bustled

about the room, tidying things that did not need to be tidied at all.

Sighing, she rubbed her belly and lied. “I still feel ill, Janie.”

Janie tutted. “I told your aunt that you were still poorly, but she wanted me

to see whether or not you'd be fit for the Coldridge's ball. I don't think you

will be, do you, miss?”

“Definitely not,” she replied briskly and popped another boiled sweet into her

mouth. "What time is it, Janie?” she asked, sucking at her candy as she

spoke around its cumbersome form in her mouth.

“Almost four in the afternoon, lamb.”

Eight hours until she would see Dorian again.

“I think I shall rest. I have the headache now,” she whispered, nodding

slightly to herself.

“I'll close the shades then and leave you in peace,” she whispered, her voice

distinctly quieter.

Lily watched as the maid did just that and with the tray in her arms,

departed the bedroom with nary another glance. Leaving Lily to stare

upwards at the four poster's ceiling and ponder why the realization that she

would soon be with Dorian had instantly taken the nerves, which had swiftly

followed her nausea, away.

****

Absentmindedly, he pondered how she could gain entrance to his house and

at will, but he soon discarded the thought, preferring to concentrate on the

delights that lay in store for them both this night.

There was a hesitant pause. "Why, of course, Dorian,” she murmured

eventually.

She was probably surprised that he knew it was her. But how could Dorian

explain that as soon as she walked through the door, his body reacted as

though a fire had been started right next to him! As though a knife were

being pressed to his throat . . . . .

He could only liken it to an atavistic need that coursed through him,

whenever her light and floral scent permeated the air.

Ridiculous, perhaps, but the truth nonetheless.