Chapter 13
The children seemed to be recovering. While still a little feverish, with coughs and sniffles, the rashes were disappearing and they all had started to complain of being bored.
Lucy had brought a few toys into the sickroom under the watchful gaze of the nurse, along with a couple of books. Nothing too strenuous and nothing too exciting. However, when Eleanor remained fractious and it was clear that Miss Fallon was becoming impatient with her, Lucy intervened and took the child down to the music room.
Lucy was not sure whether Miss Fallon had difficulty dealing with Eleanor’s deafness or if, perhaps, she did not like girls. She had been very patient when Ben had been fractious, and he was over a year younger than Eleanor and had been very difficult to soothe.
When they got to the music room, Eleanor’s face lit up. She pointed to the harp, but Lucy shook her head. “No. I am unable to play the harp. I shall play the pianoforte for you instead.”
Eleanor snuggled into Lucy’s neck and sighed. It was a contented little sound and Lucy’s heart melted. She ached for every time she had denied this child, every time she had looked into her eyes and seen her own eyes staring right back at her, every time she had wanted to see the word “mama” form on those silent little lips. And despite her illness appearing relatively mild, she had worried for her daughter more than the boys. Whether it was maternal instinct or because Eleanor was less sturdy than the boys since they oftentimes would not allow her to play their games. She was relieved to see that the little girl, while still a little flat and clingy, was definitely on the mend.
As Eleanor lay on the long piano stool, her head in Lucy’s lap and her hands under the piano, Lucy contemplated Lord Whitsnow. It had been a close shave the day he had suggested that Eleanor was her brother’s bastard, but she had been able to rebut that accusation honestly. He unsettled her tremendously, but she loved his kisses and caresses and longed for his touch again. Eddie had been but a boy and she now understood the difference between the fumblings of an eager youth and the ministrations of a man who had knowledge and experience.
A low cough brought her out of her musings. She was playing without even thinking. She did not need music for this Handel piece. She knew it by heart. She looked up to see Lord Whitsnow standing at the door, his eyes dark with desire.
“I am playing music for Eleanor.” She nodded in the general direction of her lap. From the door he would not be able to see the child. “Music soothes her even though she cannot hear. I do not understand it but since it works, I do not query it.”
Robert walked over to the piano and came around to the back of the stool, looking down upon her nightgown-clad charge. Eleanor was blissfully unaware of his presence.
“It will be the vibrations.”
“The vibrations?”
“Yes, Sound travels in waves through the air and vibrates our eardrums allowing us to hear. She will be soothed by the vibrations of wood on the piano. The vibrations will change with the higher and lower registers and with louder and softer playing.”
“Are you saying she hears the music?”
“Not hears, per se but she experiences it through her sense of touch.”
“How is it that you know so much about deafness?”
“It is not deafness. It is physics. We learned it at school and university.”
“Oh, I see. I have read a lot of books on things like agriculture but not many on science.”
“You like agriculture?”
“I do not particularly enjoy it but…” She sighed. “I have this dream of having a little plot of land for the children. Children should have animals; do you not think? I notice you do not have a dog.”
“There are dogs. They are in the stable.”
“But none as a pet.”
“We had one when I was a boy. He died while I was away at school one autumn. The year my father died. My mother died two years later. She died of a fever, but I am sure she had no will to live once he died. Which is rather unfortunate for Emily and me. It suggests her children were not enough of a reason to live.”
“Oh Robert, I am sure that is not so.” She stopped playing the piano and turned in her seat, dislodging Eleanor, who made a little whining noise of protest. Lucy scooped her up into a cradle hold and faced her towards Robert in order that she could see why her music had been so rudely interrupted. Eleanor’s expression was worth it. Her tired little features lit up at the stern-looking man. The little girl really did seem to like Robert.
She reached her arms up to the earl who looked to Lucy for permission. She nodded her head and he bent his head. Eleanor wrapped her little arms around his neck and, as he lifted her off her feet, she tried to wrap her legs around his waist, but her nightgown prevented her. He chuckled against her hair and Lucy watch the vibration of Eleanor’s back as she silently giggled. Robert tucked her legs under his arm then sat astride the piano stool, leaning Eleanor’s back against the wood of the instrument. He nestled her close, giving Lucy more room to play.
“Perhaps a waltz?”
“How very modern, My Lord.”
He chuckled. “It shall be quite some time before I ask you to dance a waltz, I am afraid. Dancing was never my thing. I hate it with a passion.”
“Why?” she asked as she started to play a lilting tune.
“I suppose it is because anytime I asked a young lady to dance, I saw her mama’s eyes light up with hope that I would wed her darling daughter. The pressure was immense. I so despise the marriage mart.”
“Hence this ridiculous idea to marry me.”
“It is not ridiculous. And I like you… very, very much.” His voice had deepened on that last bit and she felt a warmth in her belly that only he manage to create.
“My Lord…”
“Not My Lord again. Lucy, we were over this. Please, Robert.”
“We are not alone.”
“Eleanor is sleeping.”
She looked down and sure enough, her darling daughter’s mouth was open, and her red eyelashes brushed her cheeks in slumber. She wrinkled her nose and moved a little restlessly in Robert’s arms, but he adjusted his hold and she settled again. Lucy could not help but think that he would make a wonderful father.
Her fingers lingered on the keys as she looked down at her daughter, asleep in the arms of the man she was rapidly developing feelings for. This was not good. Not good at all. Her crazy mind was beginning to want what she could not have. The man, the family, and Eleanor as part of that family—a normal child being brought up in a normal way as though she had not been the product of sin and stupidity.
“Do you ride, Lucy?”
“Horses?”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “No elephants. Of course, horses.”
She pursed her lips. “I am a gently bred young lady, My Lord. Of course, I ride.”
“Have you been riding since you came to stay?”
“Once.”
“Then we have a saddle that fits.”
“Yes. Emily’s saddle.”
“Good. Would you like to ride out to the waterfall, have a picnic with me and go swimming this afternoon? The weather is really rather pleasant.”
“Swimming?”
“Yes. One immerses oneself in the water and…”
“I understand the concept, My Lord. We cannot go swimming. It is not proper.”
“You are, of course correct. It is not proper. That is half the fun of it. However, everyone else shall think we are going for a picnic. Bring an extra shift to swim in and I shall bring a pair of cotton breeches. We shall take my valet and his sweetheart who is one of the downstairs maids. She can ride with him. They shall picnic farther up the river, but only they and we shall know that.”
“Will they be swimming too.”
“I doubt that very much. I suspect Maxwell has much more fun things to do with Jess than swim with her.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “They shall…”
“Yes, they shall. I am terribly jealous.”
“You like Jess?”
Robert gave a heavy sigh. “No, Lucy. I like you. I am jealous of the act. Not jealous he is doing it with Jess. I don’t dally with the staff.”
“But you have been in Cumberland a long time. You have not been in London since the summer before last.”
“What has that to do with anything?”
She frowned and then she understood. “You have a lover here? A widow or…”
“No. I have no lover.”
“You cannot have been without… it… for all this time, surely.”
“I can, and I have. Honestly, Lucy. We gentlemen are not the ravenous beasts some ladies would paint us. We do not constantly think with our pricks. Until you came here I did not think about intercourse much.”
“You had a friend here during the winter.”
He frowned.
“And?”
“You and him? Are you mollies?”
“No!” He barked out the word along with a laugh. “And what the devil do you know about mollies?”
“I am not ignorant, My Lord. I have a brother who has warned me to steer clear of such men.”
“Your brother is an ass. A molly would have no interest in you, my darling. If he wants to bed other men, why would he want to bed you? You have two embellishments too many and three too few.”
She bit her lip and considered his words. “But what they do is… well it is illegal, and it is against the word of God.”
“Mayhap, but the word of God also tells us not to eat pork and ham, it warns us against some farming practices that are becoming common place and you do not take two young pigeons to the church to be sacrificed at the end of your courses, do you?”
“My c-c-courses?”
“Yes, it is one of the laws in the bible. On the eighth day of your menstrual cycle you must take two…”
“Fine! You have made your point.”
He grinned.
“Come, Miss Butterworth, I never took you for a young lady who shrunk from discussing natural body functions.”
“My Lord, you know this is wholly inappropriate and in front of my… charge.”
Good god, she had nearly said her daughter.
“Your charge is both asleep and deaf.”
“If she were awake, she could lip read.”
“She knows about courses?”
“Of course not. I shall explain when she is older.”
“Then she would be none the wiser.”
“It is still not proper.”
“Not much about our interactions is proper, Lucy. But I like it that way. Now, are you coming for the swim and picnic or not?”
Lucy looked out of the window. It was a beautiful day. The sun burned hot through the glass, birds chirped, and the sky was a light blue with only a few wispy white tendrils of cloud to occasionally mar its perfection.
“Miss Davis did say she had a full schedule of lessons for the children. She seems to have taken to this life quite well. Mr Crossman, the school teacher is retiring soon. I wonder if you would consider suggesting her for the position of school teacher when he retires. She is doing wonderfully with the children.”
“I shall sit in on a couple of her classes and judge for myself. So, about this picnic…”
His voice was low. She glanced from the window to the piano bench where he still sat with Eleanor clutched to him. She was entering dangerous waters with Lord Whitsnow. She knew it but somehow, she was unable to steer herself away from the turbulent waters that were sure to break her heart in two.
“A picnic sounds lovely.”
“Bring a dry chemise. I shall take Eleanor back up to the nursery.”
She nodded and left. She needed time to steel her resolve. She would not let him close. Would not allow him to touch her or to tempt her. This would just be a picnic and a swim. Nothing like yesterday. Definitely nothing like yesterday.