Chapter 20 THE GIFT OF FOREVER
Chapter 20
T HE G IFT OF F OREVER
Winchester, England
April 10, 1881
Spring term came to an end in April. Only one more before graduation in July. Miles was desperately eager to see Lillian, as in the four months since he’d last seen her, he’d only strengthened in his want to chase his own dreams, and she was very much a part of them. It was nearly agony to wonder if her feelings had grown as well during their time apart.
Even as the coachman drove Edward and him back to their home at Elmhurst, west of Winchester, Miles was devising ways to escape the clutches of his family.
“Dammit, it’s bumpy,” Edward said. He hit the ceiling of the carriage. “Marlowe, can’t you find a smoother path?”
“Sorry, sir. I’m doing my best.”
“You’re a coachman and can’t even run a carriage without nearly knocking the wheels off.”
Miles chuckled to himself. No boy had ever been more of a spit to his father than Edward. They barely spoke a word together on the drive.
As they drew closer, gunshots echoed across the estate. James stood next to another man near a visiting carriage. He had a special relationship with his guns and had been collecting them for longer than Miles had been alive. Surely, this was one of the firearms salesmen who frequented the estate.
The coach moved swiftly down the long drive, and the house in which Miles grew up came into view. Elmhurst had been in his family for generations. Spring had sprung, and an army of gardeners and landscapers were busy prepping the estate for a season of entertaining. Two men flanking each other pushed mowing machines across the lawn that had turned green since Miles had last seen it. Their estate was a revolving door for dignitaries, his father always angling to establish his place among the elite.
Elmhurst consisted of nine bedrooms upstairs and a series of living quarters for the servants down below. The stone building featured a tower in the center where Miles’s father kept his office. Miles and Edward stayed in two separate rooms on the opposite end of the house from their parents, who enjoyed an entire floor to themselves. Miles and Edward had not been on their parents’ floor since they’d stopped nursing as babies. James was a private man and did not want his boys messing about with his belongings.
The exception was with guns. Miles had never shown any interest and felt nothing when he saw his father holding a new gun. Edward, however, leaped from the coach to join the excitement. Miles followed well behind.
His father was dressed in hunting attire, had probably been out shooting grouse, and now inspected a gun that he would likely purchase. He’d once overheard one gun salesman say to another as they pulled away from the estate: “Pemberton is a sure bet if you know what he’s looking for.”
The back of the visiting carriage was open to reveal a multitude of gun cases, including the one at hand, which was propped open, revealing several shells and a cleaning kit. The gun salesman barely looked at the boys.
“Welcome home, sons!” James was a different man around others, the father Miles wished he was. He clapped Edward on the shoulder with his free hand and handed over the opulent rifle with joy—a look reserved only for guns or a Whig victory in Parliament.
“Take a look,” he said.
Edward took the rifle, examining with his own form of rare glee the elaborately etched metal and the exotic wood. Edward and Miles had spent years shooting with their father. “Walnut?” he asked.
“The finest walnut specimen in England,” the gun salesman replied.
“May I give it a go?”
“Why not?”
Miles could see the pride with which his father watched Edward cock the gun and shoot it into the air, and it grated against him.
“He’s got a keen eye for targets too. What do you say, Edward? Should we purchase it?”
Edward examined it again. “I think so, Father. I love the weight.”
“Indeed.”
Their mother came out the door, welcoming her boys back with kisses on the head. Even she could put on a jolly look around guests.
“How was the term?” she asked them both.
James brushed her question away. “Let’s save it for the meal, Cora.” He looked at the salesman with a shake of the head, as if they both could understand the impractical nature of women. “We’ll take the rifle.”
The first three days were busy with entertaining. His father invited wealthy families from around Hampshire and Wiltshire to dine with them. He’d drink his French wines and tell stories that made them laugh, and if they had a daughter of the appropriate age, he’d slyly suggest that their families should unite. Miles tried to be civil to the young women who would accompany their families, but he had no interest in any of them.
It was the most unbearable when the Thornhills visited with their daughter, Etta. She was his father’s first choice of a wife for Miles. He was polite without indicating any interest in a future with her, and though she seemed to get the message loud and clear, the fathers seemed oblivious. Or more truthfully, they simply did not care.
Miles wasn’t able to get away to Winchester for three days. But, finally, their guests were gone, and he said he was going fishing at a spot toward town. He rode his horse at a near gallop and arrived in Winchester before lunch one morning.
Lillian stood in full concentration in front of a stack of shillings, counting away. When she came to a pause, he said, “Hello there, Lillian.”
She gasped with surprise and emitted a luminous smile when she realized it was Miles. “I thought I might not see you again.”
Relief set him down gently as it became clear how much she missed him. “You said that last time.”
“It’s true. How many months was it this time?”
“Nearly four, which is four too long.” He didn’t care whether the patrons at the tables or at the bar knew his name or his desire to court her.
Lillian wasn’t able to get away, so Miles ate lunch there, a trout from the river with boiled beans and cabbage. He stole bits of conversation with her and her parents, and he conversed with her brother Arthur too. Miles was continually surprised by their kindness, despite their warnings to be careful. He left that day thinking that Lillian’s family wanted only her happiness.
Upon his departure, Lillian followed him out. “When will you return?”
“As soon as possible, I assure you. I have things I need to say to you.”
“Very well. But I want to know, exactly, when I will see you again.”
Miles smiled. He liked being wanted. “I’ll be at the cathedral for a christening on Sunday—ten o’clock. I can steal away afterward. My father will be traveling to Paris from there. Will you be here?”
“As always. So I can expect you directly afterward?”
“You seem uncharacteristically concerned with time.”
She shrugged. “I can’t stand around and wait on you all day every day now, can I?”
“Of course not. But ... I know you well enough by now. You have something up your sleeve.”
She revealed a devious look. “You’ll see what’s up my sleeve soon enough.”
How bold of her, he thought. Was she speaking in metaphors? He couldn’t have hidden his sinister thoughts for a thousand pounds. “I certainly hope so.”
She shied away.
“Was that a blush I see?”
“Not at all.” She turned back with those same devious eyes. “Not at all.”
Miles glanced at her rosy cheeks. “Then I must be color blind.”
“Clearly.”
He wanted to kiss her, but he sensed curious eyes from those in the inn, and he did not want to upset her family. Instead, he removed his hat and bowed. “Until then, Lillian.”
She gave him another smile that he tucked into his memory. As he walked away, he grew increasingly desperate to know what she had in store for Sunday.
“It isn’t fair, you plotting something without my knowledge,” he said, shortly after she’d joined him on High Street two days later. Church bells rang in every direction.
“It may not be fair,” she said, “but I thoroughly enjoy seeing your curiosity pique.”
He still wore his coat and tie from church. He’d told his mother the night before that he would take his own horse, as he and Quimby would be joining a game of rugby at the college sports fields. She’d been perfectly fine with it so long as he returned by dark.
Lillian was as striking as ever in a simple dress. Her comeliness outshone any of the young women who visited Elmhurst. Though her appearance was plain with regards to the standards of his own class, Miles could see that she’d put more effort than usual into her look today, as if whatever she had planned required it.
It became a guessing game for Miles as they meandered down the hill, walking as close as socially permitted. He barely considered the idea that someone who knew his family might come upon them.
“Is it a Sunday roast somewhere?” he guessed. “Or another church service? Or perhaps a concert? Or are we off to the theater?”
She laughed at his attempts. “You’re wasting your breath.”
Soon he realized they were walking toward her favorite spot along the river. Perhaps she’d planned a picnic of sorts. He took a few more guesses, which drew another round of giggles.
Once they were safely alone in the woodlands, Lillian stopped and turned. She rose onto her toes like a ballerina and kissed him.
“What was that for?” he whispered, wanting never again for her lips to stray from his.
She smiled and raked the hair from his eyes. “I love you, Miles Pemberton.” Her words were a song to his ears.
“You love me?”
“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Her eyes searched him, tugging at his heart.
“There is nothing wrong with that,” he said, allowing himself to fall fully into this intimate moment. “It’s only that ... that I’ve wanted to say the same to you since the moment I first saw you on the bridge.”
“It’s only my looks that you love?”
“You’ve captured me with far more than your looks, Lillian Turner. I can’t quite put a word to it, though. It’s as if I’ve found a missing piece of myself.”
Her smile grew wider.
“And the more I’ve come to know you,” he continued, “the more I’ve grown to love you—if that’s possible.”
Lillian kissed Miles again and placed a finger against his lips. “That is why today is special. I wanted a way to mark this time we’re sharing, the days when we fell in love.”
“How might we do that?” His legs quivered in anticipation as his imagination overflowed with possibilities. Whatever it may be, he was certain it wasn’t another church service they’d be attending. In fact, God may need to avert his eyes.
She tugged his hand and led him around the bend of the trail. To Miles’s surprise, a man in a wool suit sat on a stump by the river, smoking a pipe, the smoke floating up over him. Miles at once felt guilty, as if he’d been caught. His family would certainly not approve of him strolling through the woods unchaperoned, especially with an innkeeper’s daughter.
But the man offered a kind smile as he pulled the pipe from his mouth. “Hello, Lillian.”
“Hi, Daniel. Thank you so much for being here.”
It took only a moment for Miles to interpret the situation. Next to the man stood a camera on a stand.
Lillian took Miles’s hand. “Daniel is a frequent guest of the inn and a particularly fine photographer. He’s very famous in London.”
Daniel stood and brushed off his trousers. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
The two men shook hands and formally introduced themselves.
“Daniel has been offering his services to our family for a while,” Lillian said, “and I finally found a reason to take him up on it.”
“It is quite nice out, isn’t it?” Daniel said, taking in their surroundings. “And I do like the light today. We got lucky with a few clouds.”
Miles looked at Lillian. First, Lillian had confessed her feelings for him and now this ... this extraordinary gift. “Somehow you caught me in my suit, though I’m not sure I’ll wear the tie.”
“Oh, you must,” she responded earnestly. “I think the tie makes you look terribly handsome.”
“It’s my father’s, though. From his days at the college.”
With no mind to Daniel, Lillian said, “Today it is your tie, and I’d like you to wear it.”
Miles glanced at Daniel. “The lady wins this one.”
As the sun moved through the sky, the photographer took his time setting them up in various poses and taking shots. Each one required that they stand motionless for a while, which proved to be difficult amid all the laughter.
Afterward, Daniel promised that he’d deliver his favorites within a few days. As he watched the man leave with the camera under his arm, Miles thought that she’d given him the perfect gift. He would cherish the photos and never let himself forget this day.
He stepped toward her and touched her hip. “That was special, Lillian. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He could see that she was so proud of what she’d done for him.
“That kiss earlier,” he said. “Are there any more of those on offer?”
“I suppose there might be.”
Where she was once perhaps suspicious of his motives, she seemed to have shed them now. She took his hand and raised it to her breast, and Miles fought not to lose his footing.
Though their clothes stayed on, Miles and Lillian explored each other’s bodies in ways Miles had never done before with another girl. He wanted to go further, but she’d rightly slowed him down.
Later, they lay together by the river in the grass. A kingfisher watched from its perch above. The sun occasionally broke free of the clouds, bathing them in a welcome warmth. Other than their voices, only the river and the birds made any sound.
“I’ve decided not to go to Oxford,” Miles said, stating what had been on his mind for months. “And I’m not quite sure I can leave you that long anyway. You have me, Lillian, all of me.”
Worry creased her forehead. “You must go to Oxford.”
“And why is that? Do you not feel the same way as I?”
“Yes, of course I do, Miles, but what do we do? Your father will disown you. I don’t want to derail your life.” Her worry for him was evident in her tone.
“Lillian, if you didn’t want to derail my life, you’d best not have been crossing the river that night. You’d best not have drawn my attention or said a word to me when I entered the pub. There’s no turning back now. Tell me ... am I wrong?”
She closed her eyes and seemed to go away for a moment. In the silence, he could feel her being pulled in two directions. “No, you’re not wrong. I love you, Miles. But I don’t want you to suffer.”
“The only way I would suffer is a life without you.” He sat up. “Let my father disown me. He certainly will. I will find my own way. Only because it will behoove me to call myself a graduate of Winchester College, I will get through the last term and then tell him of my plans.”
She sits up, too, and wraps her arms around her legs. “And what are these plans? Is this the one in London, where you are an actor?”
“You doubt me?”
She exhaled a long breath and took her time answering, as if she was coming to peace with their trajectory. A firm determination suddenly flickered in her eyes. “Not for a minute.”
His heart shot up into the sky. “Yes, the one in London where I am an actor, and you are my bride. I’m certainly not naive to the fact that I don’t have much experience, and what little I do is more reading than performing. Nevertheless, I believe that I can be good with the proper training.”
Even if he could not make it as an actor in London, he could be happy carving out a simple existence where he could have a family so different from the one he currently had. He might be perfectly happy as a blacksmith or a baker, so long as he woke to her every morning.
“I believe that you’re capable of anything, Miles Pemberton.”
He offered a close-lipped smile. “And I, you.”
“What will your family say to that?” she asked, reaching for his hand. They clasped fingers.
“I don’t need their permission.”
“Are you sure?”
He looked deep into her eyes, losing himself in the blue, diving deep into her soul, seeing the future of the two of them. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” He kissed her again, and this time she pulled him in for a long hug. Breathing in the scent of her hair, like lilies in the spring, he never wanted to leave this place, never wanted to return to his old life.
“Have you ever thought about leaving Winchester,” he asked, as he let her go, “and going to London?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s go.”
She considered the question, the excitement of his proposal lighting her face. “It’s quite a proposal.”
“I know it would be hard to leave your family, to leave your work.”
“It would. But my parents have always said they wanted more for me.”
“What an extraordinary family you have.” Miles felt a rush of exhilaration. “And what would you do in London? Would you like it there?”
She lifted her gaze to the sky. “Of course. Perhaps I could eventually own my own inn.”
“I wouldn’t want you to work for long,” he said. “As soon as I can find a way to make a living on the stage, you’ll be set free.”
“But I have no qualms with working. I quite enjoy my duties at the inn. It would be nice to run my own place in London.”
“By all means. I’m simply saying that you wouldn’t have to, that I can take care of you. That is why I must finish the school year. A diploma from Winchester College will no doubt give me a leg up. I turn eighteen in May. The last day of school is the first of July. Then we will go start a life together. You give me the courage, Lillian, to seize my life. And I thank you for that.”
She nestled closer to him, her delicate smell dizzying him. “I enjoy seeing the fire that I stoke within you. How could I not follow you to London and see what we are capable of together?”
“And this is one of the infinite reasons I love you, Lillian. What other girl would be spontaneous enough to join a man she’s only just met on an adventure to the city?”
She kissed him and left her lips to linger on his cheek. “If you weren’t so devilishly handsome, I might not be so spontaneous.”
They were a pair, indeed. “I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother, if you’d allow it.”
“Really?”
“She says she’d love to meet you.”
“She would? It makes me rather nervous.”
“Oh, no, not at all. You’ll see. She’s the exact opposite of the rest of my family. In fact, she’s my only hope for turning out right, and I pray nightly that her blood is strong in mine. Would you come with me to have lunch with her before I return to school?”
“I suppose so. If you’re sure.”
Miles felt a glimmer of excitement. “Someone in my family must get a chance to see what I see. Besides, I think she might have some wise words to share regarding our plight.”
Lillian sat up. “Our plight?”
“Yes,” he said. “The one where the whole world is against us. Except the whole world isn’t enough to keep me from loving you.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “You know exactly what to say, don’t you?”
“Lillian, my darling, all I have is the truth.”
Miles would have loved to usher Lillian to his grandmother’s estate with grand affair, but he couldn’t take the risk. So three days later, they rode alongside each other on horseback toward Granny’s estate in Twyford.
Lillian rode sidesaddle in her dress. He could see by the way she handled her horse that she’d likely been riding all her life.
“Are you still nervous?” he asked her.
“To meet Lady Twyne? Yes, I am.”
“She’ll love you.”
He’d stayed with Granny the night before, and she’d offered her wisdom. “It is quite a decision to abandon Oxford for young love and a small chance in the West End,” Granny had said. “But you are indeed gifted in the dramatic arts, and I certainly can’t blame you for eschewing a life at Elmhurst with your father. I do look forward to meeting Miss Turner. She must be quite special.”
Miles held on to her encouragement with a tight grasp as he rode.
When they stopped to let their horses take a drink from a brook, Lillian pulled something from her bag. “I brought you a gift.” She handed him a photograph protected by a frame. “This one was my favorite. What do you think?”
He’d been a part of several photographs with his own family, but he was still mesmerized by the invention, seeing their faces captured with such detail. What pleased him more was the joy that seemed to rise out of the photograph, and he felt it like never before.
Miles caressed Lillian’s face and kissed her. There was new confirmation of their love in every touch. “I adore it more than you could know.”
His grandmother waited at the door after they’d tied up the horses. “Miss Turner,” she said warmly. “It’s such a pleasure.”
“For me as well, madam,” Lillian replied, accepting Granny’s hand with trembling fingers.
Over a cup of tea, they took their time reaching any serious discussion. Granny could talk about the birds for an hour if you let her. Miles steered the conversation toward the future he hoped for with Lillian. “We’ll take any jobs we can find and sleep wherever we can until I have a successful audition. And if it doesn’t work out, then I’ll find other work.”
Granny set her cup down. “Perhaps I could lend you some money so that the two of you could at least sleep in a decent place until you establish your footing.”
“I would pay every pound back,” Miles replied.
“I’ve no doubt. And you, Lillian ... you’re equally enthusiastic in such a pursuit?” Miles loved how receptive his granny was to the idea.
“Would you believe I’ve never been to London?” Lillian said, appearing more comfortable by the moment in Granny’s welcoming company. “For me, it’s as far away as Paris and Rome—or even New York. So, yes, London does sound appealing—especially with your grandson.”
Granny looked over at him fondly. “He is quite the young man.”
“And I intend on contributing money as well,” Lillian continued. “My father taught me to save when I was young, and I have enough to feed us for a while.”
As their conversation continued, Miles was so proud listening to Lillian speak. She carried herself well despite her nerves, and he had a feeling his grandmother saw exactly what he saw in Lillian.
“Granny, I mentioned the wonderful gift Lillian gave me. Having the photographer meet us. Would you like to see his work?”
“Yes, please,” she said enthusiastically.
Miles retrieved the photograph from his satchel and handed it to his grandmother. “I thought you might keep it if you don’t mind. You know what could happen if I kept it at Elmhurst.”
Granny sat back with a smile, as though the photo reminded her of when she’d first fallen in love. “Look at you both, a perfect couple if I’ve ever seen one.”
Miles beamed. The two women he loved and respected most in the world sat there with him in the same room. What an honor to know them both.
Eventually there arose the topic of dancing. Granny was speaking of her own wedding and of the dance, and that was when Lillian said, “I’ve never learned.”
“You don’t know how to dance?” Granny had said it a little harshly and backed off. “Of course you don’t know. Let me tell you that I don’t always love the life that I was born into, but I do love a good ball. It would be my great pleasure to teach you, if you’d like. I think you’d enjoy the waltz.”
Miles had seen lovely smiles rise on the surface of Lillian’s porcelain face, but none like the one she showed then. He felt even more proud to see how his grandmother did not let their social divide hamper their connection. In fact, she seemed undaunted by any obstacles, rules, or regulations.
Granny took Lillian’s hand and showed her the first steps. “Arms up. Shoulders straight. That’s it. Eyes on mine.” It took a few moments, but Lillian finally got it. Miles let out a joyous grin and clapped as his grandmother and Lillian spun around the room in delight.
“I wish I had a violinist,” Granny said. “Perhaps I’ll arrange one for next time. Miles, your turn.”
Miles sprang up. He’d never been quite as fond of dancing as his grandmother, but he welcomed the opportunity now. He took Lillian’s hand and swept his eyes over her face, the joy so evident it could have made him cry. He was so caught up in it that he couldn’t quite remember his steps and nearly tripped over himself.
“Oh, dear, my grandson might be the one who needs the lesson,” Granny said.
“She causes me to feel dizzy, Granny.”
“I do say!”
Miles wished everyone would see Lillian the way Granny did, but he knew better than that.