The earl, who had left the room a half hour before, came back into it. Cordelia started. He held a letter in his hand and appeared almost ill.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” he said.
“Papa! What is it? What has happened?”
Seeming to come to his senses, the earl took in a deep breath and said, “Beatrice writes that Lily has come down with a croup. The poor little mite runs a high fever and Beatrice says the cough is quite terrible. They are all frightened out of their wits.”
Juliet jumped from her chair. “What are we waiting for? We must go to her at once!”
“Yes, yes, of course we must go. Now, I did think about it. Cordelia, you may stay here with Miss Mayton. I should not like to drag you away from your season.”
“No, Papa!” Cordelia cried. “Beatrice needs us all there. If something were to happen…”
None of them could bear to say what the something was that Cordelia referred to.
Their dear Lily might die. It would not be unusual, many children did die. It was just that it was their Lily. Nothing could happen to their little niece. None of them would be able to bear it. Beatrice could not bear it.
They were each up out of their chairs and running to find a valise. They must go in all haste.
Never in theirlives had the Benningtons set off on a journey as quickly and with as little fuss as they did that day.
The earl gave over all the arrangements to Tattleton, who moved heaven and earth to get them packed and rent an extra carriage and coachman. They were only to take what was needed; the rest could be sent on by their butler.
The rest that would be sent on had, necessarily, included Lord Darling. However, Tattleton swore he would take good care of him. He did not look enthusiastic over the prospect, but Cordelia knew he would be as good as his word.
As the butler issued orders this way and that, the earl fired off letters to Rosalind and Viola. Cordelia had no doubt the duke and Lord Baderston would escort her sisters home. Darden had been called back from his club.
They were off in two hours, speeding their way back to Somerset. Sandren had been given leave to make the journey as speedily as possible, changing horses at strategic stops. A basket had been packed in each carriage and there would be no stopping but for the horse changes.
The earl had been grim as he spoke to them before they set off. He’d said, “This trip must be different. We are on a serious errand and cannot dally for a moment.”
“Papa,” Juliet said, “if I leave my book behind somewhere, it is gone forever. If I wish to write an ode, then I will do so from what I see passing by a window. There will be no stopping at all—we must fly to Beatrice and Lily.”
The earl nodded approvingly. “And Van Doren too.”
He stared at his youngest daughter until she finally whispered, “Yes, and Van Doren too.”
It had all happened so fast that Cordelia had not had a moment to think of what she was leaving behind.
As the carriage raced along the road, leaving London in the distance, Cordelia’s thoughts bounced back and forth—where she was going and what she was leaving.
“You are thinking about Lord Harveston,” Juliet said as Miss Mayton snored next to her.
“I am thinking of Beatrice and Lily, and then Lord Harveston, and then Beatrice and Lily.”
“If he loves you, if it is meant to be, he will wait. He will be there, waiting for you, next season.”
Cordelia hoped so. She hoped Miss Bretherton did not get her fact-filled claws into him somehow.
“I know you imagined that you would be married by the end of this season,” Juliet said, “but it is perfectly fine that you are not. You will lead me into my own and we will have a jolly time together.”
Cordelia nodded. “As long as Lily comes through it.”
“Yes, as long as Lily comes through it, else I cannot see how we will ever be jolly again.”
*
Percival had donnedhis best new coat and set off to the Benningtons. This was it. He did not care how many people were crowding up her drawing room.
