The Fires of Spring

Chapter Six

"Madam, it is my duty to inform you that we are running very much behind schedule," said Peter, and would have sounded tense had his robotic mind not been capable of it.

"I know, Peter," said Lilith. She was standing on the landing pad next to the Farrars' larger hovercraft. Only she and Peter remained outside, for Peter was the only one of the twelve male androids - plus Mary - that was not inside and seated.

Even Thomas, Christopher's valet-android, was buckled into the correct seat and awaiting Lilith's orders to Simon to take off.

"Should I go fetch Mr. Farrar, madam?" asked Peter.

"I shouldn't think so. To save time, go buckle yourself in," she instructed. Peter inclined his head an obeyed, leaping into the hovercraft with a breathtaking elegance.

Lilith glanced at her watch and tightened her scarf around her neck. It was frigid outside, and Christopher was late, as usual. When she'd risen at six thirty, she'd woken him and he'd promised to hurry to the hovercraft so they could depart by seven thirty.

But there was no sign of him.

Lilith weighed her desire to be on the way to Bancroft inside a warm and spacious hovercraft as soon as possible against the fact that she did not want to demean herself and play the scolding, nagging mother to Christopher, shooing him out the door like some angry nanny.

Eventually, as a bitter wind set in, making her eyes water and her skin burn with cold.

Giving a sigh, she turned and went into the house, the computer automatically opening the door for her. The moment she was inside she was assailed with warmth and shuddered with pleasure. Lilith felt safe in removing her coat, scarf, and gloves, laying them on a nearby table as she went in search of her husband.

She did not find him in either the dining room or the parlour, which made her grit her teeth in irritation, as there was only one other place where he could be.

So, when she walked into the bedroom she shared with Christopher on nights when it was not occupied by one of his lovers to find her husband sprawled, fast asleep, still tucked into bed.

"Christopher," she snapped.

He did not stir.

"Christopher!" she said, louder this time. She poked his shoulder and he grunted, opening his eyes. He took one look at her and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in a pillow.

"Go away," he said, and put a pillow over his head. "I don't want to get up, Lilith."

Lilith rolled her eyes and simply crossed her arms, waiting.

"Lilith," he whined.

She refused to speak, knowing that her very presence would cause him to move, petulant creature that he was.

"Lilith, I don't want to go to some bloody country estate for a weekend," he moaned, throwing the pillow off him and sitting bolt upright in bed. Tousled, bleary-eyed, and with dark smudges under his eyes, Lilith nearly pitied him for how tired he looked.

But she was his wife and the manager of his household, not his mother.

"It was your idea," she pointed out, and crossed her arms.

He moaned and clawed his way out of bed, completely naked and utterly lazy. Lilith paid him no mind as he moped about the room trying to find something to wear.

"Thomas laid out your clothes," she said, and pointed to the neat pile she'd had the android assemble on the divan at the foot of the bed.

Christopher slouched over to the clothes and pulled them on, looking up at Lilith as he did so. "How late are we?" he asked.