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“No, my lady. Should I ask the other staff if—”
“No.” The last thing Emily needed was the palace servants whispering about her. Pratt continued talking, but Emily nodded without hearing. Will was gone. He hadn’t even told her good-bye. She had known things would end, had even expected that they would end within days of their return to London, but she hadn’t thought he would be gone so quickly or without even a fare thee well.
But then what had she expected? He hadn’t made her any promises or professed his undying love for her. He hadn’t even told her he loved her when she confessed her feelings. Yes, he cared for her. He had feelings for her, but she must have attributed more weight to those feelings than she ought to have. And really, what did he owe her? She was not a virgin whose innocence he’d taken. She was a widow who had come to his bed knowing they could never have a future. He had his work and she had...
What did she have?
An image came to her mind of Lyme Regis—the battered sea cliffs, the cool ocean breeze, the cries of seagulls. She suddenly missed it terribly, suddenly wanted to go and visit. Perhaps she would even call on Miss Anning and ask to view any fossils she’d uncovered.
The maid entered a few moments later with the tea tray, and Emily looked out the window and imagined a view of the sea as Pratt poured the tea and tried to tempt Emily with a crumpet.
Then the physician came to see her, examined her wound, and said it was healing nicely. “But what you need, my lady, is rest. No more running hither and yon. A few days in bed, and your leg should heal nicely.”
Emily glanced away from the window. “What do you think of Lyme Regis, sir?”
The white-haired man tilted his head in question then glanced at Pratt who shrugged.
“What I mean to say is, do you think it might do me good to take in the sea air?”
“I don’t think it would hurt, my lady. You do look rather pale and thin.”
“Lyme Regis?” Pratt said. “Do you think the queen could spare you, my lady?”
“I shall have to ask,” Emily answered, her mind set now.
As the physician had directed Emily to stay in bed, another day and night passed before the visitor she had been expecting arrived. Emily was sitting up in bed when Pratt admitted the queen, followed by the Duchess of Charlemont and Lady Jocelyn. Lady Jocelyn had come to visit her that morning and informed her Victoria had asked after her. Emily was missed. A few weeks ago, Emily might have been gratified to know that she was missed or even noticed. Now it didn’t seem to matter. She’d still had no word from Will, and she was forcing herself to accept the fact that there would be no word.
Emily tried to rise when the queen entered, but she gestured for Emily to stay where she was. “We would prefer you to stay in bed, Lady Averley,” the queen said. “Our physician tells me he has prescribed rest.”
“I’m feeling much better, Your Majesty.”
“So Lady Jocelyn tells me.”
Emily glanced at Lady Jocelyn, who smiled, and then at the duchess, who was looking about her chamber and scowling. Pratt didn’t seem to know what to do and was standing in a corner wringing her hands.
“We have come to give you our thanks.”
“That’s not necessary, Your Majesty.”
“It’s very necessary. In fact, we feel as though we should bestow—”
“Please don’t.”
The queen raised her brows at Emily’s interruption, and Emily felt her cheeks heat. “I’m sorry. I only meant that I did what anyone would have done. I don’t need any special honors. I don’t want them.”
“I see.” The queen turned to her ladies-in-waiting. “Could you give us a few moments alone?”
“Of course,” Lady Jocelyn said. “Emily, I will come by later and bring cards or a book.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Emily would miss Lady Jocelyn. Not so much the duchess who always looked as though she’d just eaten something very sour.
When Pratt closed the door, leaving Emily alone with the queen, Victoria sat on the edge of the bed. She was dressed in a modest white day dress with a lace cap, her hair in a simple coil at the nape of her neck. She looked young and pretty. Far too young to have been so close to death.
“Emily.” Victoria took her hand. “If you won’t allow me to publicly thank you then I hope you will allow me to do so privately.”
“There’s really no need, Ma’am. I did what anyone would do.”
“I think it was a bit more than that. Mr. Galloway told me how instrumental you were in identifying the traitor in our midst. He seemed to think I might be dead or in danger still if not for you.”
