Chapter Fifteen
Three weeks after being in London, a few truths made themselves evident to Lily. Despite her modest background and connections, she had somehow become scandalous. Her newfound notoriety had seen a drastic increase in her business, so much so she had hired two additional seamstresses. It was not only to the patronage of the Duchess of Basil and Lady Wimbledon, or to Oliver’s sound financial advice, that Lily attributed her success. She also credited the tidbit that had featured her in a scandal sheet.
Lord A, who is believed to be seeking a bride, has been seen recently with the fashionable Madam L taking a turn in Hyde Park, and at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. Society wonders at their connection.
“If I should believe you, Lily, the very morning after this was printed, you got fifty new patrons?” Her sister demanded with incredulity, dropping the newspaper atop the stone counter in the kitchen of their parents’ cottage.
Her sister was her dearest friend, and Lily hid nothing from her, so Mary Rose was quite aware of Lily’s relationship with the marquess.
“Yes,” Lily replied laughing. “London thrives on gossip.”
“I cannot credit all you are saying,” Mary Rose said with a gasping laugh. “You, declared as fashionable. Mamma and Papa will question where you got money from if you start giving it away.” Mary Rose folded the bank draft of five hundred pounds Lily had given her and stuffed it into her apron pocket. “David won’t know what to do with this fortune you’re gifting us.”
“He will be able to use some for his clinic and apothecary,” Lily said. “And the children could get new boots and winter coats this year. And should you wish it, you can rent your own cottage.”
Her sister’s eyes glistened with tears.
“What is it, Mary?” Lily asked, putting down the potato she had been peeling.
“I’m with child again.”
Equal pain and joy burst inside Lily. She wiped her hand on her apron and hurried to her sister and enfolded her in a warm hug. “I am very happy for you and David. Lizzie and Katie will be so happy.”
“We are hoping for a boy,” Mary said with a smile that wobbled. “Oh, Lily, how I wish you would find a similar happiness.”
Lily stepped away and went back over to the stone counter to pick up the knife and potatoes. “Mamma is expecting this stew to be ready soon.”
She could feel her sister’s stare, but Lily couldn’t bear looking at her, desperate to hide the pain that still lingered in her soul.
“David told me he informed you that it may still be possible,” Mary said softly.
The knife clattered onto the table, and Lily gripped the counter edges, steadying herself at the emotions that tore through her. “He did.”
“Then why not remarry and—”
“I consulted with David when I failed to conceive with Robert after a year of marriage. Though David’s words gave me some hope, it still did not happen.”
“David said the frequency of how—”
“Mary Rose,” Lily whispered. “I am not having this conversation with you!”
“Why not? I’m a married woman. I know full well what it takes to become with child,” she snapped, blushing. “I am weary of avoiding the matter, and I hate that I feel so wretched that David and I have been blessed three times and you are alone.”
Alone… An awful sensation took hold in Lily’s stomach. When Oliver finally selected a wife, they would probably have children soon after. “I will never be alone,” Lily said, facing her sister. “I have you and the children, and Mamma and Papa. I also have my shop. I am happy, Mary.” Her assurances sounded hollow to her ears.
“Have you considered that you may get with child now that you and the marquess are lovers?”
She stared at her sister, unable to explain the pain that had driven her from London. Lily had woken four days ago in her lover’s arms, her stomach cramping sharply, signaling her courses were near. “Lord Ambrose hardly leaves my bed, and I am still not with child,” she finally answered, swallowing against the sudden tightness in her throat.
“My husband is the best doctor in Derbyshire. If he says there is a chance, there is,” Mary said with a proud lift of her chin. “It took David and me four months after our wedding night before I got with child. How long have you been lovers with the marquess? A month? I daresay it is still possible, and you should turn your thoughts to what you would do if it happens. The resulting scandal would not be kind to you, or to our family, for a man of his station will not marry you.”
Watching her sister as she moved about the kitchen, Lily felt an intense surge of love for her. Their mother entered the cottage, thankfully putting a stop to a conversation Lily would prefer to never have. She had indeed consulted with David a few years ago when her hunger for a child had left her restless many nights. He had even impressed upon her that less stress and more frequent coupling with the vicar would see the job done. He had even recommended a few vile tonics she had consumed to aid the process, and nothing had happened. Everything had felt hopeless then because frequent coupling was not something the vicar had wanted with his harlot wife. But since Oliver had entered her life, he had taken her every night, and in the days, too. Yet she was still empty. Not that she could be too disappointed. Lily couldn’t imagine what she would do if somehow she ended up breeding. Her child would be a bastard.
Their mother withdrew the pie from the oven and set it on the cooling rack, then she checked on the stew.
“Vicar Smith and his lovely wife will be coming to dinner,” she said, smiling. Light brown eyes, a perfect replica of her daughter’s, twinkled. “I picked up a roast to add to the table.” Mamma touched Lily’s hand lightly. “I wore my new redingote, and it was so admired, my dear. I’ve been boasting about your shop in London. We’re all so very proud of you.”
Lily smiled, wondering what her mother would think if she knew it was the marquess that had made it possible.