6. Chapter 6-Lily
Lily slept in the following morning and ate a hearty breakfast brought up by the inn’s cook, who was far more solicitous than her mistress.
Someone—Claire, most likely—had sent a trunk of items along with Abeer and the maid.
It was a good thing, too. Other than a wet gown and a pair of even wetter boots, Lily had arrived at the Cask and Crowne with nothing.
Her maid carefully dressed her in a lovely emerald-green travelling ensemble with buttery-soft heeled boots that were only slightly too big, but easily remedied by adding a pair of warm socks.
Lily teared up when she saw herself in the mirror.
It shocked her the difference that a bath, a capable maid wielding curling tongs, and a fine dress could make.
In the next instant, she named herself vain and silly—surely she didn’t look that different. Though perhaps she did, for the innkeeper’s wife goggled at her when she came down the stairs.
Abeer waited for her at the front door, a large wicker hamper clasped in his hand. He wore all the elements of a traditional English gentleman’s suit—jacket, trousers, vest, and shirt—but there was something loose and flowing about the outfit that made Lily think he missed his native country.
“How are you this morning, Miss Hughes?” His words were melodic, each one a note struck upon some foreign instrument Lily felt she could listen to endlessly.
His eyes twinkled at the moniker, but Lily didn’t get the impression that the man was mocking her in the least. Instead, he struck her as a kind fellow who’d asked after her with all sincerity, and not with the passing, shallow interest of dictated politeness.
“Very well, thank you,” she said.
“I made sure that they sent you beef stew for supper last night. It is incredible how restorative beef stew can be,” Abeer murmured conspiratorially. Lily’s eyebrows rose, and he chuckled. “Does that shock you?”
She was embarrassed he’d picked up on her flicker of surprise.”Forgive me, it’s just that I wasn’t aware that Indians ate beef.”
“Many don’t. It’s largely dependent upon religion.
As my parents are both Catholic, I feel no such qualms about enjoying a delicious stew.
In fact, it’s quickly become my favorite dish in England.
Stew is one of the only things that can warm a person in this frigid climate.
That and tea—no wonder there’s such a demand for the stuff.
” He offered her his elbow held well from his body, as if he wondered whether she’d deign to take it. “Shall we?”
Though William had been gone for several years, he’d always been fiercely protective of his younger sisters. Lily knew that if he’d sent Abeer to fetch her under such delicate circumstances, the man must be exceptionally trustworthy.
So Lily readily slipped her hand into the crook of Abeer’s arm and smiled up at him. “If it’s your favorite, then let us hope there’s beef stew somewhere along our journey.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile as he carefully hefted the basket he held.
“Oh, there is. The innkeeper’s wife packed us a large crock of it, tied with cloth and twine, as well as hearty sandwiches, scones, and an array of sweet biscuits.
As I told William, I have no qualms with long carriage trips, provided I’m well fed along the way. ”
Lily laughed and allowed herself to be guided outside to the waiting carriage.
It was a handsome black conveyance with plush padded seats and plenty of room—both on the bench seats and between them.
This was a far cry from the public post-chaise—Lily doubted she’d so much as brush a knee against another occupant, let alone be half-pummeled by stray limbs by the time she arrived.
Abeer carefully set the basket to one side and helped Lily up the steps, then turned to help her lady’s maid ascend.
It was moments before the three of them were settled within the compartment.
With barely a jostle, the matching team of horses quickly carried them from the town center to the same country road Lily had slogged only hours prior.
The night before, that last stretch had seemed endless. Now, the carriage skimmed over the road, the greenery flashing alongside them like one of those clever flip books that Rebecca favored.
Lily’s heart clenched within her at the thought of the little girl.
She’d certainly woken by now. Though it was still early morning, Rebecca rose with the sun.
Lily felt deep regret that Rebecca was undoubtedly already missing her.
The feeling was reciprocated—it was difficult for Lily to accept that she would probably never see the girl again.
Even if she did, they’d no longer share the closeness that had come from Lily being her governess.
Rebecca wasn’t the only one Lily would miss.
She’d met every servant on the grand estate in her term there, and grown fond of several.
Mrs. Clark was a capable housekeeper. Though she and Lily had never discussed personal matters—it would have been a stretch to call her a friend—they had a camaraderie based upon wanting the very best for Rebecca and the household at large.
Being a governess was a strange sort of in-between.
One was a servant and yet, not quite. Every maid and footman knew that Lily answered to Lord Hayes.
They certainly knew she had his ear—their nightly dinners weren’t a secret.
This drove a small but invisible wedge between Lily and the rest of the staff, a distinction that kept her from being fully included amongst the other young ladies of the house.
Lily blinked. Truth be told, the closest thing she’d had to a friend was the very man who’d chased her from the manor.
Lord Hayes was the only one who’d cared enough to inquire about Lily’s preferences in music, literature, and art; the only one who’d regularly shared conversations not strictly about work.
She might have missed him along with the rest if he hadn’t chased her out like a common thief. If Rebecca and Mrs. Clark had done the same, Lily might have been free of this echoing melancholy altogether. Lily watched the landscape roll by and banished Lord Hayes from her mind.
Perhaps it was shallow of her, but it wasn’t just the people of Ballam Hall she’d miss.
Lily had felt a strange sense of pride when she’d first viewed the great stone manor; she thought it was just as a large house should be.
Its only ornamentation were the large banks of rectangle windows and the two massive pillars that flanked the alcove of the front steps and door.
It was unapologetically solid, a handsome fixture standing with a sense of grand permanence amongst the practical gardens of the estate.
How different her arrival had been from her leaving! Lord Hayes was still looking for her, she knew. With any luck, he’d call it not worth his effort by noon and her tenure as governess would soon be forgotten.
“Mr. Abeer, does a carriage this size usually take six horses?” she asked, mainly to distract herself from the instinctive fear of heading back toward Ballam Hall, even if it was only for a short distance.
“Please, call me Abeer.” He smiled. “And you’re right—four horses would more than suffice. It’s a new design, meant to be light and lively.”
“It’s very nice.” She patted the plush seat next to her.
“I confess I feared the carriage maker had taken William in for the price, but the trip here has convinced me it was money well spent. It’s much more comfortable over the inevitable bumps than the old style.
Your brother is so proud of it he intends to have the family crest painted on the side as soon as we return to London. ”
“If it only requires four, why do we have six?”
“Your brother thought speed and endurance of utmost importance. Besides, these are his horses, and he doesn’t want them changed out along the way. We’ll rest them well at luncheon, but we’ll be a good distance down the road by then.”
Lily glanced down and resisted the nervous urge to tug her gloves more firmly into place. Such fidgeting would only give her emotions away.
“I suppose you wish to know what happened,” she finally said to Abeer, her eyes flicking quickly to the maid and back.
Lily had always suspected that the staff of any great house spoke about the residents, but she’d never known quite how much until she became a governess.
She could only imagine what rumors were spreading through Ballam Hall this very morning.
Why, the whispers in the kitchen probably rivaled the hissing steam from Cook’s pots!
“Not necessarily. I don’t require any explanation unless you wish to give it,” Abeer said kindly.
He nodded toward her lady’s maid, Mabel.
“However, William specifically chose us to accompany you. Miss King and I are both loyal to your brother, so you may say anything to either of us without fear of it being repeated.”
Lily blinked at Mabel curiously, but she didn’t know how to ask the question without being rude.
Mabel smiled. “My father is a sailor on one of Lord Cavendish’s ships, my lady.
I never dreamed I’d be offered a position in such a grand house amongst such kind people.
It’s a great honor. I won’t repeat a word of anything you say to me or in front of me.
I promise, I’m very loyal–firstly to you, then to Lord Cavendish. ”
Lily believed her—the way she spoke the last was as solemn as a vow.
“Even so,” Abeer said, “we can speak about anything you’d like. Your sisters, perhaps, or your brother’s plans for you ladies?”
Suddenly, talking about her time at Ballam Hall was the last thing Lily wanted to do.
How was she to put to words what it had meant to her when she didn’t fully understand it herself?
And though she had slept like the dead the night before, there was a residual exhaustion in her bones that had her leaning back against the padded seat in relief.
Truth be told, she’d been tired ever since the first bill collector had pounded on the front door back in London.
“Please tell me news of my sisters. How are they all?”
Abeer grinned and launched into a detailed report that soon had Lily laughing. By the end, she was fully convinced of her seven sisters’ well-being.
“And when are we to leave for Paris?” she asked.
“As soon as we arrive in London,” he said. “Your sisters are eager to see you.”
Lily nodded and looked back out the window. Why, they’d already reached the main crossroads from Bedlington. Last night, she had scrambled out of the farmland and onto the lane somewhere nearby. Lily leaned forward and craned her neck, trying to decipher precisely where it had been.
All at once, she gasped and yanked the curtain across the glass.
Charging up the embankment were four barking dogs, followed closely by a man on a horse. It was Lord Hayes, and his grim eyes were already pointing toward Blyth.