Panting and snarling, wolves chased her through the rain and darkness. She could not push her screams from her chest. One beast crashed through the bushes at her feet! It bit her hands as she attempted to push it away.
She realized she was pushing against bedclothes. A dream, she thought as her heart ceased racing. She opened her eyes.
Jewel stood holding a tray, and gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I dropped the spoon. I’ll get another.”
“A spoon?”
“Doctor Hollis said to wake you if you hadn’t eaten by five o’clock. Mrs. Phelps brought over some mutton soup from the vicarage.”
“I’ve slept all day?”
“You were only brought here just before eleven o’clock.”
Loretta eased herself up onto her pillows and raised her hands so that Jewel could position the tray. Her hands were bandaged, leaving the fingers exposed. She touched her cheek and felt some sort of salve. Her wet clothes had been replaced by a nightgown. Warmth enveloped her, luxuriously dry warmth.
“Where is Philip?”
“He had to see about a baby he operated on.”
“The little girl with a cleft lip.” Was that only yesterday?
“I’ll fetch another spoon.”
“Will you send Becky up with it? I have to see for myself she’s all right.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But instead of leaving right away, Jewel leaned down to drop a kiss upon her forehead. “Thank you.”
It was out of the bounds of acceptable behavior for a servant. Loretta raised a bandaged hand to touch her cheek.
Philip eased Loretta’s door open. She lay against her pillow. He began closing it again when she opened her eyes and said, “I’m awake, Philip.”
He entered and felt her forehead, detecting no sign of fever. “How do you feel?”
“Safe.” She smiled. “Alive. How is the baby?”
“She’ll be fine. She has a loving family to help her mend.”
“It won’t stop children from teasing her when she’s older.”
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s so. But hopefully, knowing how much she’s loved will give her some armor.”
He looked over to the empty soup bowl upon the tray. “Good. You took some nourishment.”
“It was delicious. Is your mother here still? I’d like to thank her.”
“She and Father were here only briefly, to see about you. You’re the heroine of Gresham, by the way.”
“Heroine?” A dry laugh escaped her lips. “Now you’re teasing.”
“The woods were full of men searching for you. They’ve told their wives, because at least eight stopped me on my way to Doctor Rhodes’ to ask if you were all right.”
“Incredible.”
“Would you like something for pain?”
“No, not now.”
He picked up her hand, gently. “I must beg your forgiveness, Loretta.”
“Forgive you?” She shook her head. “Whatever for, Philip?”
He swallowed. “I could have looked for you earlier, if I hadn’t believed the worst.”
“You thought I left with Mr. Gibbs?”
He related Jewel’s sighting of the coach, the absent jewelry and purse.
“And then my disappearance seemed too great a coincidence,” she said. “I can’t fault you for that, Philip. But my jewelry’s in the back of your wardrobe.”
“Mine?”
She sent a self-conscious look toward the door and lowered her voice. “I was afraid Becky might . . . plunder.”
“You haven’t said if you’ll forgive me.”
She smiled up at him. “I do.”
Her fair hair had dried in a tangled mess that smelled of the woods. Jewel was heating water for a bath downstairs. The scratch across her cheek did not need stitches, but would leave a scar. Yet she had never looked more beautiful.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “while I would never wish to repeat last night, perhaps it was the best thing that could have happened. For two reasons.”
“And what are they?”
“Well, if it atoned for the scene I made in the shop, it was worth it. If I’m going to live here, I wouldn’t want everyone believing I’m a fallen woman.”
“And the second?”
“Becky was foremost in my mind, because I feared she was in danger. But through it all, I desperately wanted you to come for me.” She stared up into his eyes. “You said I should fill my mind with good things. You’re the best thing in my life, Philip. May we start over?”
All of his plans for caution flew out of the window. Throat thickening, he said, “Oh, Loretta . . . there is nothing I’d like more.”
“Ouch!” she said.
He loosened his grip upon her hand.
She laughed, and he smiled, once he was over the shock of having hurt her.
“I’ve treated your family shamefully,” she said. “I’ll love them as my own. You’ll see.”
“That will make me very happy. But we’ll have to love them over a distance. Visits back and forth. We need to be in London.”
“But your dream . . . you’re so happy here.”
“There are two of us in this marriage. I was happy there during those first good months. And I can be happy anywhere with your love.”
“You have it, Philip,” she said, pressing his hand to her cheek.
“Will I still have it when I inform your father I wish to go into private practice as a dispensary surgeon?”
She gaped at him. “Philip?”
His heart sank. If she intended, still, to be her papa’s little girl, their conversation had been for naught.
“You’ll have the best of both worlds.”
No bath had ever felt so good, even though the water stung her scratches. She sat at her dressing table in her nightgown, hair bundled in a towel and fresh bandages upon her hands. Surprisingly, the scratch across her cheek was not as devastating as she would have thought. A night lost in the woods could put things in perspective.
Soft knocks sounded.
“Come in.”
In the mirror she watched Philip enter.
“Jewel said she’ll comb your hair after she puts Becky to bed.”
“Will you do it?”
“Why, yes.”
As he crossed the rug, she studied him again in the mirror and was struck with the change in him. She wheeled around on the bench. “Your beard!”
He rubbed his smooth-shaven cheek. “I wasn’t so keen on it anyway. I only kept it out of stubbornness. There’s a bit of willful child in me, too.”
She smiled and handed him the comb, and unwound the towel from her head. “Begin at the ends or you’ll pluck me bald. I’m afraid it’s going to take a long time to get the snarls out.”
“I have all night.”
A few minutes later, Jewel, also wearing wrapper over her nightclothes, brought in a pot of cocoa with two cups, along with an envelope.
“This was on the table.”
“Thank you,” Philip said. “I forgot it was there. My parents brought it over with the soup.”
“Will there be anything else?” Jewel asked in a tone that begged refusal.
Loretta laughed. She had forgotten the previous night had been long for others, as well. “Yes, Jewel. Go to bed.”
“Straightaway, ma’am.”
“It’s from my father,” Loretta said, staring at the envelope. She rather wished he had not seen it, for even though she had admitted planning to borrow money to lend to Mr. Gibbs, the reminder could drive the pleasantness out of the room. While Philip poured the cocoa, Loretta took out the page.
“Dearest Loretta,
“That you would demand so outrageous a sum with no explanation convinces me of the notion that struck my mind after you left London; I have undermined your marriage by showering you with things not yet attainable by your husband. I have sold the horses and carriage and found another position for Tom. Most of London takes public transport. A brisk stroll down to the hansom stand will be tonic for your health.”
The willful child in her rose up to say, “Mother and Father have a landau and coach.”
Philip set her cup and saucer upon the dressing table before her. “They can afford them.”
She took a sip of warm cocoa, then another, and made a face in the mirror. “We should give back the house, too. Move into some dismal little rooms in Whitechapel. That would show them.”
“The house was our wedding gift. They’ll be hurt if we give it back.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Besides . . . it’s a fine house.”
She set cup onto saucer, twisted around to smile up at him. “It’s not too late to fill it with good memories, Philip.”
He smiled down at her. “It’s not too late.”
“That’s a hint to kiss me.”
His eyes shone. Had she never noticed their rich blueness before? With a tender hand between her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her, sweetly, with a restrained passion she had not realized how much she missed.
“M-m-m. Cocoa,” he said.
She touched the scratch upon her cheek. “I’m glad you shaved the beard.”
He was starting to stand when she caught his head with her bandaged hands and whispered, “This place could use a good memory or two.”
He raised back far enough to give her a stunned look. “No. Absolutely not.”
“You no longer find me attractive?” she teased, knowing from the look in his eyes that was not the case.
“You’re beautiful. But your ordeal . . .”
“I’m fine, Philip.”
“Jewel and Becky . . .”
She tugged on his earlobe. “They’re not above your room.”
“Loretta and I would like to make an announcement,” Philip said in the vicarage dining room three days later.
“You’re returning to London,” Aleda said flatly.
“Within the week. We can’t thank you enough for lending us your cottage. And we plan to visit here once a month. At the very least, take an early train on a Saturday.”
“Now remember . . . you’ve just come from church,” Jonathan teased.
Elizabeth touched her husband’s hand. “That would be very thoughtful, Philip and Loretta.”
“Thoughtfulness has nothing to do with it.” Philip smiled at his father and mother. “We need you. All of you.”
He laid out his plan to set up a private practice attached to Saint George’s Hospital. “I’ll help Doctor Rhodes find someone to take my place here. But already he has letters from some very qualified doctors.”
Throughout his speech he tried to read his parents’ faces. Sadness? Resignation? Relief?
“May I also make an announcement?” Loretta asked.
“But of course,” Elizabeth said.
She stood, looked at the faces around the table. “My husband has forgotten to mention that we hope you will visit us often, as well, and stay in our home.”
Mother finally spoke. “Thank you, Loretta.”
Loretta stared across at her with sheepish smile. “And the next time, we will treat you . . .” She cleared her throat. “I will treat you as honored guests, for I behaved very badly the last time you visited.”
“Not so,” Father said charitably.
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken by laughter when Loretta wrinkled her nose at him and said, “Now remember, Vicar, you’ve just come from church.”