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“You’d really do that for me, Teddy?” She put her hand over his and tried to move closer. “Even though you know what will happen to me?” Convulsing just at the thought, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Now that the madness has returned? But…you do remember how it was last time, don’t you?” Panicked, she went on, “It wasn’t immediate. It was slow and…only sometimes. You remember?”
“I remember, my love,” he said softly. “We still have a long time to go before we need to worry. A long time. And there are new medicines to try. I’ll look after you. I promise.”
Relief washed over her. Teddy was going to look after her. How she wished it was Hamish, but Hamish didn’t understand how thoroughly she would ruin his life.
Despite everything, Teddy still loved her. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into, yet he still wanted to help her.
She struggled up and pushed back the covers. “I’ll pack some things.”
He looked surprised. “You want to go now?”
“Yes. Now. And I don’t want anyone to know. I think that’s best.”
If Robert came to the house looking for her, he’d think she was coming back and not pursue her.
Nor would Mr Montpelier or the Russian pose such an immediate threat, either.
For the first time, Lily felt safe. And without a conscience, for she was putting no one in harm’s way who didn’t know the risks.
Yes, she was going to be with Teddy. He would protect her.
Later, she would send a message to Grace.
Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-nine
Feeling numb and disoriented, Hamish took a hackney to Oxford Circus. He had some shopping to do which he’d been putting off for some days. A pair of shoes for himself. He’d also long planned to buy Lily some gloves. It had been quite poignant to observe the transformation of her hands into those of a lady and he’d intended to surprise her with a pair of the finest lavender kid gloves.
But he couldn’t shop. Couldn’t keep his mind on anything.
Of course, he’d accepted that life with Lily was never going to be easy. She was not free to marry. Old McTavish senior would probably deny him the financial compensation he was due.
But Hamish had fallen in love, and nothing was going to stand in the way of that.
Seeing her today had been heartbreaking.
He’d been so helpless.
But what about the future?
Really, he had no idea what course her illness would take.
He just knew he wanted to be with her.
Instead of treading the pavements of Oxford Street, he decided to go to his club.
With a newspaper and a whisky to occupy himself, he settled himself in a corner of White’s, and went over everything that had happened during the past couple of hours.
When he lowered the newspaper to take a sip of his drink, he was accosted by a friend who invited himself to join Hamish, ordering a whisky from the waiter.
“Everyone is talking of the Ned Kelly Gang in the colonies,” remarked his companion, Freddy Styles, glancing at the headlines. “No doubt I shall read something about it in your own sermonising periodical that reminds us lesser mortals that only the righteous shall prosper.” The corners of his mouth turned up, but Hamish didn’t respond, and he went on, “I was speaking to Sir Lionel over there. Told me you’d interviewed him for an upcoming piece. Apparently, Sir Lionel was a bit of a brigand in his day—though not in the fashion of Mr Kelly. I look forward to reading it. When will it be published?”
Hamish rose at his words, glad of the excuse and distraction. “Over there, you say? Then I must catch him as there are some finer details I need to clarify with him before it goes to print. Excuse me.”
He’d intended this as a ruse to avoid Styles but, in fact, as Hamish crossed the room, Sir Lionel looked up and hailed him.
Hamish had no choice but to go over to him.
