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He hesitated. "But I can see that you have a great deal on your shoulders, and on your mind, at present. I will not press you." He cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose I had better go and unpack. I will be lodging in one of Dr. Foster's spare rooms until things are a settled between us."
"Us" meaning he and Foster, or a ? She felt her palms grow damp at the thought.
When Dr. Graves had taken his leave, promising to return soon, Lilly knocked on the surgery door and warily let herself in.
"Father, how do you feel? "
He groaned and raised himself to a sitting position on the cot. "Like a lump of bread dough that Maude has kneaded while vexed."
"Thank you for seeing him."
"And to what do I owe such an honor? He said he made your acquaintance in London. Am Ito understand he is here to court you?"
She shrugged. "He did once speak to Uncle on my account. But-"
"I thought as much." He chuckled. "I noticed your handprints on his coat."
Face burning, she hurried to change the subject. "I am not here to talk about me, rather you. Dr. Graves would not divulge a thing."
"I should hope not."
"Father, please."
"There isn't a great deal to tell. He spent most of his time diagnosing what it is not. Not brain fever, nor typhus, nor several other fates worse than death. He doesn't believe it is anything contagious, although he has not ruled that out completely. So you still need to keep your distance."
Is that why he's been so aloof? she wondered. "What does he think it might be?"
"Perhaps a compound of two fevers lung fever and glandular."
She sucked in a breath. "Not lung sickness? "
"He does not think it the consumption, no.,, "I am relieved to hear it."
"Don't go planning my sixtieth birthday party yet, my dear. Lung fever itself can be can be quite serious. But yes, there is reason to hope." He looked at her shrewdly. "And here I feared your London season in vain. A physician, ey? Ali well, as long as he is nothing like Foster."
A tincture of sage will give old men the spirit and the advantages of youth.
DR. HILL, THE OLD MAN'S GUIDE TO HEALTH AND LONGER LIFE, 1764
CHAPTER 27.
n Thursday morning, before beginning her jaunt up Grey's Hill, Lilly stopped in at the coffeehouse to tell Mary the surprising news about Dr. Graves coming as prospective partner to Dr. Foster. She knew Mary was not fond of Dr. Foster, either, but whether out of loyalty to Mr. Haswell or for reasons of her own, Lilly could not say.
"Are you certain it's Foster he's come to partner with?" Mary asked, suggestively raising a brow in a manner that brought Christina Price-Winters to mind.
Lilly made no attempt to hide her bemus.e.m.e.nt. "I am not at all certain. I had thought things ended between us in London." Promising to tell Mary more later, Lilly continued on her way.
She reached the top of Grey's Hill and stood catching her breath, looking down at the village below. The church bells rang. She could see several fine carriages in front of the church, the first of which began to pull away. This was the morning Sir Henry and Miss Powell were to be married, she knew. Few had been invited to attend the wedding breakfast, which she supposed was not surprising. Considering Sir Henry's advanced years, a private affair was more dignified.
"Miss Haswell."
Lilly started and turned. "Mr. Marlow! I did not see you there."
He rose and dusted off his breeches. "Seems I am quite invisible these days."
"Is the wedding finished already? "
"It is finished. My role in any case, which was to appear publicly in full support of my father and his new bride. They shall now return home for the wedding breakfast, but I find I cannot stomach it."
"I did wonder how you must be feeling."
"Did you? Well, then you are the only one considering my feelings these days."
She took a tentative step closer. "You a did hope to marry her, then?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps." He added acrimoniously, "I certainly did not hope she would marry my father. Devilish humiliating."
"I am sorry."
"Never fear, Miss Haswell. I will forget by and by."
"Will you?" she asked, studying his dull expression.
"Yes, with concerted effort and time, I shall."
"Perhaps you might teach me that trick."
She had only been jesting, but he looked at her quite earnestly.
"It can be learned. I am quite the master of forgetting unpleasant things. When the memory raises its head, you force it down. It rises again, you supplant it with new and more vibrant memories. It tries once more, you intoxicate the mind, drown it out. You do not allow such thoughts to revisit themselves upon you."
"But then, do we never learn from our past mistakes? Is that not one reason G.o.d gave us memory?"
"I do hope not. Pleasant memories are well and good, but I prefer to banish the others. With practice and constant diligence, one may train a memory to remain cowering in the dark reaches of the mind, where it can no longer p.r.i.c.k one's conscience. It may not be quite the same as truly forgetting, I grant you, but a near enough imitation."
"You sound as if you have had long practice. What is it you strive so hard to forget, I wonder?" She nodded toward the church below. "Besides recent events."
He hesitated, and a shadow of remorse flickered and quickly disappeared, replaced by a cavalier grin. "I am sure there must be something, Miss Haswell, but I do not remember."
Lilly found herself wondering if she ought to attempt the same method with her own memories that brought such disquiet. Of coming home and finding her mother gone, her father pacing and desperately pretending all would be well, that she would return in a few days. Charlie sitting behind the draperies in Mother's bedchamber, running his small fingers over the roses in the pattern, mumbling the same numbers over and over again-" Seventy four, five, six, seven a ty four, five, sixa "
"In any event," Mr. Marlow continued, "I am certain there is a woman out there who will not throw me over for a man twice my age."
"I have no doubt there are many." She had only meant to console him, but a sudden gleam in his eye sent warning bells ringing in her mind.
He reached out and touched a tendril of hair against her neck. "You are a balm, Miss Haswell. A sweet balm."
She backed away. "I had better go." She turned and made her way down the hill at a rapid clip.
He jogged beside her. "May I walk with you?"
"I am on my way to visit a family recovering from the ague. I do not think you-"
"How n.o.ble you are." He captured her hand and tucked it beneath his arm.
Once they reached the village, she pulled away gently, putting a proper distance between them. As they pa.s.sed the churchyard, now deserted, he suddenly veered through its gate, pulling her in his wake to stand behind the tall privet hedge. He pulled her close, one arm draped diagonally from her shoulder to waist, his jaw to her temple.
He was tall and strong and wounded, and for one brief moment she allowed herself to enjoy the warm strength of his arm around her, before pulling away once more. With his free hand, he tried to capture her chin, to angle her face toward his, but she turned away. "Mr. Marlow, please!"
"You are right. Forgive me."
"I realize you feel betrayed. But do you really think toying with a subst.i.tute will remedy your pain?"
"It would dull it, at least."
"For how long? And at what cost to me? If someone had seen us, just then-"
"Your brother, for example?"
She had been thinking of Dr. Graves. "Actually, I meant-"
"For there he sits."
She turned and stared, and there was Charlie reclining against Grady Milton's headstone. "Hallo, Lilly. Hallo, Mr. Marlow."
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Charlie shrugged casually. "Countin' dead men."
Lilly sighed and thought, It's the live ones I have to worry about.
Still, she was relieved to see her brother there. Something told her Roderick Marlow would not have been as easily dissuaded had he not been.
True to his word, Dr. Graves returned late that afternoon to check on her father, promising to stop in regularly and oversee her father's progress. In fact, he seemed to relish the prospect. She supposed if Dr. Graves had come to Bedsley Priors to continue courting her, he could not have invented a more plausible excuse to see her so often. In any event, she was exceedingly grateful to him for taking over her father's care.
Charlie came in from the garden, and Lilly introduced her brother to the new doctor.
"Graves, is it?" Charlie repeated, confused. "I like graves. Queer name for a doctor though, innum?"
She was relieved when Dr. Graves took no offense.
Afterward, Dr. Graves asked her to recommend a hostelry where he might dine. She immediately suggested the coffeehouse, explaining the proprietress was a dear family friend.
He hesitated at the door. "Perhaps you would be so good as to show me the way? "
She bit back a smile. "Happily, sir."
Even taking the time to tie on her bonnet and retrieve her shawl, she stepped out onto the High Street as he held the door for her. He walked beside her across the narrow mews and progressed several steps before realizing she had already stopped at the next establishment.
"Here it is."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. There were those dimples she remembered so fondly and the blue, blue eyes brightened by the afternoon sun.
She led him inside and introduced him to Mrs. Mimpurse and Mary her friend studying the doctor with more than customary interest.
Mr. Shuttleworth was enjoying an early supper, and Lilly introduced Dr. Foster's new partner to him as well.
"Dr. Foster speaks highly of you, sir," Graves said to him.
"I am much obliged." Mr. Shuttleworth smiled. "He honors me with his trust."
Francis walked in, hat in hand. He drew up short at seeing the well-dressed man beside her.
"Mr. Baylor, will you join me? " Mr. Shuttleworth enthused. "You come here far too rarely."
"Many thanks, Mr. Shuttleworth, but I am only here to give you a message. Mr. Robbins asks you to call when you can. One of his workers injured his leg. May have broken it."
"I shall go directly." Mr. Shuttleworth rose, shook hands with Dr. Graves, and turned toward Francis. "Have you met Mr. Baylor here, my young right hand?"
Francis greeted the newcomer politely, but Lilly did not miss the speculative concern in his eyes as he looked from the good-looking stranger to her.
GOWLAND'S LOTION Eruptive humours fly before its power, Pimples and freckles die within an hour.
ACKERMANN'S REPOSITORY ADVERTIs.e.m.e.nT, 1809