The Apothecary's Daughter (41 page)

At the sound of her name, Charlie bounded outside. “I hope so.”

Ankles crossed, Mr. Shuttleworth leaned on his walking stick and
looked over at Francis. “Graves, and now Marlow as well. I cannot
say I like our odds, Mr. Baylor.”

“Nor I,” Francis said. “What say you we invite another lady to improve our ratio? Miss Robbins would no doubt appreciate a little
variety of society.”

“Excellent idea, my boy,” Mr. Shuttleworth agreed.

Francis gave Lilly a meaningful look. “And an invitation from
Miss Haswell would no doubt come as quite an unexpected pleasure.
Unless is there some reason you would prefer she not come?”

Lilly felt trapped. Indignant. “What reason could I possibly have?
Of course she may j oin us.” Francis knew Lilly was now being courted
by Dr. Graves. Why should she be surprised he had returned his
attentions to Miss Robbins?

Francis nodded his approval, then clapped Charlie on the back.
“Come on, Charlie. Come and join the lads.”

“Aww. ‘Em lads don’t let me play,” Charlie said.

“They do now.”

Francis crooked his arm around Charlie’s shoulder and led him
to the green.

Lilly watched them go with a warmed heart, ready to forgive
Francis his irritating habit of foisting unwanted creatures on her. Ali
well … she could understand why Francis admired Miss Robbins.
She was undeniably a lovely, accomplished girl.

“My, our little party is growing by the minute,” Mary said, rising
from the bench. “I had better bake another cake.”

If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all.

QUEEN ELIZABETH I

I I n Sunday morning, Lilly greeted the vicar outside the church
doors after the service.

“Good morning, Mr. Baisley.”

“Miss Haswell. How fares your father?”

“A little better, I thank you.”

Mr. Baisley nodded and cleared his throat. “You no doubt noticed
my blunder this morning.” He leaned closer. “I believe it startled you
awake.”

Lilly felt her neck grow warm. “Forgive me. It was only a slight
misquotation. I happen to have learned that Scripture as a girl.”

He shook his head in wonder. “What it must be like to remember
everything you have ever seen or heard or read …”

Lilly fidgeted. “Not everything, really. Only what I truly attend
to.’ I

“If I had such a gift, what I would store away.” He thumped a broad finger against his temple. “Scripture, hymns, my wife’s
birthday …”

She acknowledged his joke with a polite smile.

He studied her closely. “And what do you store away in that pretty
head of yours, Miss Haswell?”

She shrugged dismissively, her discomfort increasing. “Whatever
comes my way, I suppose.”

A perplexed frown flickered across the kind man’s features.
“But whatever you take in or, as you say, attend to, it stays with you
forever?”

“It seems so.”

He shook his head solemnly. “Then, my dear, I hope you will be
most careful what you allow in.”

Lilly swallowed and attempted another smile, one she feared was
quite stiff. Well, she bolstered herself, what is church without a dose
of conviction?

At the appointed hour, Lilly, Mary, Charlie, and Francis were
waiting before the coffeehouse when Miss Robbins arrived from
neighboring Honeystreet in a lovely white-and-pink gown, French
bonnet of tulle, and a parasol. Lilly bit her lip. That parasol would
not withstand a half minute atop the wind-whipped pitch. She and
Mary had settled for simple bonnets tied securely under their chins
and long-sleeved spencers for even on a summer day, the windy hills
of Wiltshire could prove chilly.

The ladies exchanged polite greetings, and Lilly warmed to Miss
Robbins when she saw how nervous the girl was.

A man on horseback rode up, and Lilly was surprised to recognize
Mr. Marlow. Had he not said he would bring a carriage? It would be
a long walk. And what of Mary’s hamper?

Beside her, Miss Robbins sucked in her breath and squeaked, “Mr.
Marlow!” She turned to Lilly, face stricken, and whispered tersely,
“No one told me he was coming.”

Was everyone afraid of this man?

Marlow dismounted. Seeing the girl, he hesitated, clearly surprised. “Miss Robbins?”

“I … I did not know you were coming,” she said defensively.

“Nor I you.” He paused, then seemed to recover. “But that doesn’t
mean it cannot be a pleasant surprise, does it?”

Her mouth hung loosely. “Oh. No…”

Francis stepped beside Miss Robbins and assumed a protective,
proprietary posture, shoulders back, hands fisted at his sides. For a
moment, Marlow regarded the younger man with cynical amusement,
then turned at the sound of a carriage approaching.

Lilly heard Francis whisper to the girl, “Do not be uneasy. You
shan’t be alone.”

Her attention was pulled away as a landau, driven by Marlow’s
coachman and with a footman in the rear, pulled up and halted in the
street. The young footman hopped down and jogged over to open the
door and lower the step.

But Lilly’s eyes were fastened on the landau’s sole occupant.

Beside her, Charlie breathed, “Miss Powell …” And from the
corner of her eye, she glimpsed Francis elbowing him lightly in the
ribs.

Lady Marlow was like a print from a ladies’ magazine in a promenade dress with ribboned sleeves and a long green vest laced across
her ample bosom. A hat of satin straw trimmed with feathers sat at
a smart angle upon her head, showing a wealth of red ringlets at one
temple.

Francis leaned close and whispered in Lilly’s ear. “Now who is
gaping?”

Mr. Shuttleworth drove up in his curricle, Dr. Graves beside him.
At their arrival, Mr. Marlow made the introductions with practiced
ease, as though he had socialized with them all many times before.
“Well, now that we are all acquainted…”

As if on cue, Cecil Briggs drove up in the low four-wheel gill,
hampers stacked in back.

“If the gentlemen would be so kind as to ride in the gill,” Marlow said with a sweep of his arm, “the ladies may enjoy the comfort of fine
springs and leather seats.”

Francis and Charlie climbed in the back of the low wagon, but Mr.
Shuttleworth said he and Dr. Graves would take his curricle.

Marlow nodded, then offered his hand to Lilly. “Miss
Haswell.”

Self-conscious at being singled out first, Lilly stole a sideways
glance at the other two ladies. Mary looked as though she’d just sold
a Rich Bride Cake Miss Robbins as though she had a goosegog
stuck in her throat.

As he helped her up into the landau, Marlow said quietly to Lilly,
“What a diverting outing this is proving to be.”

They quickly left the village behind, passing nearby Alton as well.
The wild roses were all gone from the hedgerows, Lilly noticed, and
the elderberry blossoms had given way to clusters of ripening fruit,
which they would pick come October.

A few miles to the north, the carriages halted along the roadside
at the foot of Walker’s Hill. Mr. Marlow rode back to speak to his servants while the other men alighted. Dr. Graves offered Lilly his hand.
Francis, she noticed, hurried over to help Miss Robbins down. She did
not miss his reassuring smile nor the lingering press of hands.

Marlow directed the coachman to stay with his horse, the landau,
and Mr. Shuttleworth’s curricle. Cecil Briggs and the young footman
would drive the wagon up the hill as far as they could, then haul the
hampers and picnic blankets to the top from there.

While Mr. Shuttleworth transferred his telescope to the gill, the
others stood clustered about, staring up at the summit.

” ‘At’s a gurt big hill,” Charlie breathed.

Lilly shielded her eyes with a gloved hand. “A fair pitch
indeed.”

Miss Robbins eyed the wagon with longing.

“You may ride up if you like, Miss Robbins,” Lilly offered
kindly.

“All of you mean to walk? ” she asked timidly, her parasol already
wavering in the breeze.

Lilly nodded. “I believe so.”

“Walk?” Francis said as though scandalized. He turned to Mr.
Marlow. “What say you, Marlow. Shall we peg it? Have a friendly
race?”

“Race?” Marlow’s lip curled distastefully.

“What afraid you’ll muss your cravat?”

Lilly winced. Careful, Francis.

But Marlow retaliated only with words. “No, afraid you will foul
the air.”

Francis said easily, “I do not plan on perspiring. Do you?”

Mr. Marlow held his gaze and loosened his cravat.

Francis turned to his employer. “What about you, Mr. Shuttleworth. Are you in?”

“Good heavens.” He rubbed his palms together. “Sitting about
the surgery all day as I do, I haven’t a chance. But why not? I shall be
a buck about it.” He smiled shamelessly at Mary. “Am I not a jolly
buck, Miss Mary?”

She smiled indulgently. “Indeed you are, Mr. Shuttleworth.”

He took off his fine coat, folded it, and laid it neatly atop the hamper. Cecil Briggs clicked the horse into action and the gill pulled away.
Miss Robbins watched it go with regret.

“If I am very lucky,” Mr. Shuttleworth said, “I shall swoon at the
top and have four lovely ladies falling to their knees beside me, waving
their fans over me and I know not what.”

“What a schemer you are, Mr. Shuttleworth,” Mary teased.

Stuffing his cravat into his pocket, Marlow challenged, “What
about you, Graves?”

Dr. Graves shook his head. “You may count me out. I shall escort
the ladies.”

“I for one look forward to the climb,” Lady Marlow said. “I
believe exercise is beneficial for the female figure. Do you not agree,
Dr. Graves?”

Dr. Graves cleared his throat.

Lady Marlow surveyed the hill once more. “Pity my husband
could not join us. Sir Henry is meeting with his solicitor today, or I
know he would have enjoyed this.”

Lilly would not have guessed Sir Henry equal to the climb. His
health must be greatly improved. Evidently marriage suited him.

Lionel Shuttleworth rolled up his sleeves. “Come on, Graves,
don’t be a fribble. Give me someone to beat at least.”

“I shall walk up and so you shall handily beat me,” Graves said.

“Indeed I shall,” Shuttleworth agreed with boyish earnestness.

“And I as well, Dr. Graves,” Charlie said, adopting an awkward
runner’s crouch. “I own I’m hudgy, but even I can beat a fellow on a
wander.”

Lilly bit her lip. She hoped her brother was right.

Mr. Shuttleworth urged, “Start us off, Miss Mary.”

“Very well. Ready?” She held up her handkerchief, then sliced
the air with a flourish. “Let the race begin!”

The men scrambled forward, Marlow nearly losing his footing on
the loose rock at the bottom of the hill. Francis shot forward into an
early lead. Shuttleworth ran with an upright, rooster-like stance that
threatened to topple him as the pitch steepened. Marlow’s long loping
strides quickly overtook him. Charlie ran behind, arms windmilling,
gait awkward.

“Careful, Charlie! ” Lilly called after him. “Mind you don’t fall
and wrick your ankle!”

The three other women accompanied by Dr. Graves began a
leisurely pace up the circuitous path, which climbed the hill more
gradually.

Watching them stroll languidly away, Lilly thought, Fiddle! She
hiked up her hems and ran straight up after the men. She caught up
with Charlie easily and had nearly reached Mr. Shuttleworth when
she heard Charlie stumble and let out an “Oomph” behind her. She
stopped and helped him up, keeping a hold of his hand, thinking
to jog the rest of the way side by side. But Charlie pulled away and
started off once more, on his own. It stung Lilly, though she knew it
should not have.

Reaching the summit first, Francis called down, “Come on, you
lollopers!”

“Go, Charlie, go!” Mary shouted her encouragement from the
path below.