Loving Lily (Fair Cyprians of London 6)

“To punish you? To begin with, they are inanimate. They are drawings. You must try to calm yourself.”

He felt helpless. Nothing he said was getting through to her. Her sobbing had grown louder, and she was now lying in a heap, her hair a tangled mess after she’d torn at it in her attempts to ward off whatever it was that was threatening her.

“And no one is going to punish you. You’re a good, honest woman who has never done any harm to anyone.” He had to reassure her where he could.

“I’m not, I’m not!” she wailed. “And now he’s sent the flowers to kill me! I knew he’d find me. I knew he’d never let me be happy!” The pain of her distress was equally painful to Hamish, he was sure. This was the woman he realised only recently that he loved, though he’d been drawn to her for much longer. He crouched down beside her, indicating with a nod to Grace to move slowly to her other side so that she could help him.

The hand he put on her arm was reassuring and soothing. He didn’t want to use force if he could help it. Surely his words would get through to her.

“No one is out to kill you, Lily. I won’t let them. And I’m here now, to protect you. Who is it you’re afraid of?”

“My husband! He wants to kill me! He wants me dead, and now he’s sent his soldiers!”

Hamish put his mouth to her ear as he snaked an arm about her, trying to get the leverage to draw her up sufficiently so he could carry her to her bed, if he had to.

“Who is your husband, Lily?” he whispered.

“Robert! Sir Robert! He has always been angry with me. Especially when I became sick. He hates me, and now he’s sent his soldier flowers to kill me!”

“Sir Robert Bradden? That’s your husband, isn’t it, Lily dearest?” Hamish asked softly and she tensed, staring at him with eyes burning with fear.

“You know him?” she asked. “You know my husband? Has he sent you to kill me?”

With another shriek, she hurled herself out of his arms, heedless of the broken glass beneath the windowsill, picking up the lamp that sat upon a l

ow table, blood dripping from a cut she’d just sustained to her hand.

Before hurling the lamp with full force across the room—at his head.

Hamish ducked, just in time, the lamp shattering just as there was a loud banging on the doorway.

“Lily!” Hamish cried more urgently as he made another attempt to comfort her. “I’m here. It’s all right, my love.” It didn’t matter what she’d just done. She hadn’t tried to injure him out of malice. All Hamish wanted was to help her.

“Sir! The doctor’s ’ere, praise the lord!”

Then Hamish was being edged aside as a young man crouched beside Lily, opening his leather bag and selecting a vial of powder. “Grace. Fetch water!” he demanded, with barely a look at Hamish. “We need to get this into your mistress before she does herself any more harm.”

Helplessly, Hamish gave the doctor room so he could tend to his patient. “Will she be all right?” His throat felt thick with fear.

The young man glanced up at him, raking him with a considering look. He was in his shirtsleeves and looked as if he’d been summoned from a sporting match, for his light blonde hair was slicked back, and there were sweat marks on his shirt. “I was playing tennis, but I came as quickly as I could,” he explained, following Hamish’s gaze. “As to how the patient will fare, depends.” He weighed up his words. “If she’s kept sedated, she will be unlikely to harm herself or others.” He nodded at Grace. “You’ll do everything that needs to be done, won’t you, Grace? You’re a good girl.”

“Yes, Dr Swithins. ‘Fank yer, Dr Swithins,” she whispered.

Turning back to Hamish, the doctor shook his head. “Sometimes patients in her situation enjoy a year or two of relative stability. But when the insanity is upon them once more, there’s no telling if they’ll ever recover.”

Hamish glanced from the doctor to Gracie, who sent him a stricken look. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

The doctor looked up again from administering a draught of medicine to his patient.

“The kindest thing you can do, sir, is to leave the patient to sleep out her torments in a darkened room,” he replied. “If you think that the sight of you might be in the slightest bit agitating to her—even if you think she’ll be pleased to see you—I strongly urge that you keep away for the next forty-eight hours. Grace will keep you informed, won’t you, my girl?”

Chapter 28

Lily came out of the dark sludge, crawling on her hands and knees through the tunnel as she strove to reach the light. But at each turn, the light disappeared, and darkness descended once again.

Until, with a gasp, she opened her eyes and…

Found herself in her bed, staring up into the frightened face of Grace.