The Apothecary's Daughter Part 2

He lifted his head. "I've had a letter."

Lilly regarded the fine piece of stationery upon his desk. "So I see." She swallowed. "From a Mother?"

The look he gave her held equal measures of surprise, incredulity, and pain. "No."

She bit her lip and waited.

He sighed. "It is from Mr. Jonathan and Ruth Elliott."

"Elliott?" None of their acquaintances bore that name.

"Your aunt and uncle Elliott. Your mother's brother."

She almost blurted, Have they seen her? but thought the better of it. She did not want to conjure that look upon her father's face again.

Instead she said, "I do not remember an aunt and uncle Elliott."

"How could you? You have never laid eyes on them. But you shall. They are coming all the way from London to pay a call this Friday whether I like it or not."

"Why should you not like it? They are family, are they not?"

He looked away, toward the surgery window. "I suppose that depends upon your definition of the term."

"But you have met them? "

"Yes, many years ago." He frowned. "It was not a happy occasion.

"Do they know a ?" There was no need to spell out the painful subject her father habitually avoided.

"Yes. I wrote to them some time afterward."

"What do you think they want?"

Her father's features were pinched. "I shudder to think."

Seeing his distress, she laid a rea.s.suring hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps they merely wish to reestablish bonds with us."

He looked up at her, his blue eyes glinting in the late afternoon sun slanting through the window. "I admire your hopeful outlook, my dear. But I would caution you against it. Mark my words, Lilly. We will rue this visit for years to come."

When [Jane's brother] Edward was 16, the Knights adopted him as their heir. It was not uncommon for wealthy relatives to take in a child from a less fortunate branch of the family.

JANE AUSTEN SOCIETY OF NORTH AMERICA.

CHAPTER 2.

illy watched from an upstairs window as a post chaise pulled by a"J two matched bays came to a halt before the shop. When the postillion clambered down from his mount and opened the carriage door, a tall, portly man in hat and greatcoat stepped out. He then turned and a.s.sisted a dainty woman in fur-trimmed cloak and hat. Lilly hurried down the stairs and peeked through the door of the laboratory-kitchen as Father opened the shop door.

"Elliott. Ruth," he said. "Welcome."

The man took her father's measure. "Haswell. You are looking fit, I must say."

"Benefit of the profession, I suppose. Do come in." He took their coats and gestured them inside.

Taking in her surroundings, Ruth Elliott asked tentatively, "You live here, in your shop?"

"Why, yes behind and above it."

"Is that common with men of your trade?" she asked.

"Yes. I believe it is common with men of most professions. Now, please, come into the sitting room."

Taking her cue, Lilly hurried to precede them up the stairs. Straightening her mother's miniature portrait on the end table, she stood nervously behind the settee as her father escorted their guests inside.

"Here we are. Do be seated anywhere you like. Oh, there you are, my dear. May I introduce my daughter, Lilly. Lilly, this is your aunt and uncle Elliott."

Lilly curtsied. "How do you do. I am pleased to meet you both."

"Lilly?" Ruth Elliott repeated skeptically, arranging herself in an armchair.

"Yes," Lilly said. "Short for Lillian."

"Ali, yes, after Mother," Jonathan Elliott said, taking a seat. "That is, your grandmother."

Lilly smiled. She had not known. "But almost n.o.body calls me that."

"Lillian, a young lady ought to use her given name," her aunt said. "You are too old for pet names, do you not think?"

Lilly felt her smile waver. "Well, you must be tired and hungry from your journey. Will you have tea?" She gestured toward the tea service and tray of a.s.sorted tarts, scones, and biscuits.

"You employ a cook, then?" Aunt Elliott asked.

Lilly nodded. "Mrs. Fowler cooks and cleans, but these were provided by a kindly neighbor. An old friend of Mother's, actually. Here, let me pour the tea." Lilly began to serve, hoping to put into practice all that her mother had taught her long ago. She had even rehea.r.s.ed yesterday, heeding Mrs. Mimpurse's gentle admonitions, but still her hands shook now.

She felt her aunt's gaze upon her every move as she handed her the first cup.

"And where is the boy?" Uncle Elliott asked. "A young Charles, I believe, you mentioned in your letter?"

"Yes," her father answered, accepting a cup from Lilly. "I expect him any moment."

"And young Charles is what age now?" Jonathan Elliott asked. "Thirteen? Fourteen?"

When Father hesitated, Lilly supplied, "Fifteen."

"Fifteen," Uncle Elliott repeated. "And do you plan for him to take over your shop one day?"

Charles Haswell studied his teacup. "I had hoped, but now I am not certain."

The Elliotts glanced at one another, and Jonathan Elliott smiled. "Well, that is good to hear."

Her father frowned. "Why on earth would it be?"

"Well, Haswell. We need to meet the boy first, of course, see how we three get on, but I can say that it has occurred to Mrs. Elliott and myself that it might be time to adopt an heir. Providence has not blessed us with a child of our own, and I at least" he smiled at his wife "am getting up in years. One must think of the future."

Lilly nearly spilled her tea. "But Charlie has a family," she said quickly. "Us."

"Of course he has, my dear," Aunt Elliott soothed. "And that would not change."

"It is done, you know," Uncle Elliott said. "Legal adoption for inheritance purposes. Quite common."

Lilly murmured, "I had not realized."

"It is not as if we would take him from you completely," Aunt Elliott a.s.sured her, then shifted her gaze to her brother-in-law. "Between us, we could determine a visiting arrangement that suits us all. a.s.suming you and young Charles are amenable, of course."

"Have you no other close relatives?" Lilly asked, feeling panic begin to rise.

Uncle Elliott shifted uncomfortably on the saggy settee. "I do have one young cousin who might suit if he were not such a despicable character. But a nephew would be my first choice. And, well, Charles is my sister's son." He beamed at them both, as if this would dissolve their disbelief and despair.

As Lilly looked at the smiling face of Jonathan Elliott, she thought how odd it was that this portly man of middle years was her own mother's brother. He appeared years older, for Rosamond Haswell had always been so youthful, slender and pretty. Beyond the man's dark hair and brown eyes, she could find no resemblance to the portrait nor her memory of her mother.

The thought of Charlie leaving them, visits home not withstanding, filled Lilly with dread. Her little brother living in London without their father? Without Mary or Mrs. Mimpurse? Without her?

She looked to her father for help, expecting at any moment for him to refuse the Elliotts in no uncertain terms. Hoping he would. But then another line of thought presented itself. Might this be the opportunity she had prayed about for Charlie? With her aunt and uncle's resources, could they not find a specially equipped school, although Father insisted none existed for boys like Charlie? Or even a learned tutor who might help Charlie grasp new ideas, adapt to his limitations, and, well a grow up?

Lilly stood. "Father, might you help me downstairs a moment? "

"Hmm? Oh, of course." He rose. "Excuse us a moment."

He followed her down to the laboratory-kitchen.

"I know what you are thinking, Lilly," he began, speaking in low tones.

"Do you? I am thinking this might be a wonderful opportunity for Charlie."

He looked at her askance.

"Yes, I know," she continued. "My first instinct was to refuse them and keep dear Charlie here with us. But that would be selfish, would it not? Should we not give Charlie every opportunity to learn, to improve himself? Mr. Marsh did little for him. You and I try, but in London there might be new schools, new tutors, or methods that will take decades to reach us here in Bedsley Priors. Please do not reject their offer for the sake of revenge."

He snorted. "Another man might seek revenge for his wife being cut off from her family simply for marrying him." His voice began to rise. "Followed by nearly twenty years of cold silence, only to have them show up now and ask for one of his most treasured-" He broke off, ran a hand through his thinning reddish-brown hair, and forced his voice back down to a whisper. "But if I truly thought they would do Charlie good a"

"Father, I know you will worry, but-"

He grasped her arms. "Lilly. I do not worry about Charlie. Not in the way you mean. I do not worry about him leaving us, for he never shall. Rather, I worry about his hopes being raised and his feelings crushed."

"But-"

"Lilly. The Elliotts will never adopt him as heir. Not once they realize "

"Hallo, Father! " Charlie bounded through the garden door, dirt on his sleeves and a smile on his face. "Mrs. M. said I was to hurry home. I was at Mr. Fowler's. He has a litter of puppies. Are *em very nice?"

Lilly bit her lip and smiled gently at her brother. "They are very nice. Now do wash your face and hands and put on a clean shirt. All right?"

Her father moved to the door. "Then join us in the sitting room."

"And Charlie?" Lilly added. "Do your best to remain calm and speak slowly. Let them see how sweet and polite young Charles Haswell is."

Her brother wrinkled up his face. "Who's he?"

"Here we are." Lilly brought in another plate of tarts and currant scones, though no one had touched the first. "May I pour more tea for anyone?"

"None for me." Aunt Elliott touched a linen cloth to her thin lips.

Uncle Elliott held out his cup. "Thank you. I know it must be quite a shock Rosamond's family showing up after all this time. If it is any consolation, we both regret having remained distant so long."

Father, taking his seat again, nodded. "I will say I was surprised to receive your letter, especially when I had written to let you know that Rosamond was a no longer with us."

"Yesa." Uncle Elliott looked down at his hands, and his wife studied her own as well, leaving Lilly to wonder if they knew something about her mother or had been in contact with her.

Father cleared his throat. "I believe your intentions toward Charlie are sincere and honorable, but I must tell you, I do not think an arrangement likely."

"But why?" Aunt Elliott raised her eyes, clearly stunned. "Surely you realize what you are denying your son?"

"I deny him nothing. You see, my son is the dearest, sweetestnatured boy you will likely ever meet, but "

The sitting room door banged open and Charlie strode in, looking quite presentable in a clean white shirt tucked into his breeches and a wide smile on his boyish, handsome face. He had even combed his coppery-blond hair.

Her father rose. "And this is my son, Charlie. Charlie, say h.e.l.lo to your aunt and uncle Elliott."