BaronAndEnchantress_PGolden-eBooks

by Golden, Paullett

  Most of her thoughts were of regrets. She never should have flirted with him. From the beginning, she had known he was an impossibility. Now, he would be nothing but a sore topic of conversation for her and her family. She should set out for Allshire immediately. The return was already overdue; now, it was imperative. Lizbeth’s family would not want her here, not after finding out the truth. And how much more embarrassing that the truth had gone untold for an entire month, as though she had hidden it intentionally.

  Oh, what must he think of her?

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the onset of a migraine.

  “You can’t avoid him forever, you know,” Lizbeth said.

  Lilith squeezed her eyes closed, willing away the dull ache behind her forehead.

  “What am I to do, Lizbeth? I’ve made a right mess of everything. All I had to do was ignore his advances, tell him from the beginning I wasn’t interested. What am I to do?”

  “Go to him, accept his proposal, and live happily ever after.”

  Lilith choked a cynical laugh. What absurdity.

  “He’ll never look at me again now that he knows what I am,” Lilith protested.

  Lizbeth tutted. “Give him more credit than that. I’m sure he was taken aback at first, but he is the kindest of gentlemen. If he’s developed a tendre for you, and we both know he has, he’ll let nothing stand in his way, not even an inconvenient fact.”

  “Hardly inconvenient! It’d be the worst of scandals. You can’t deny that.”

  Liz smiled warmly. “I can. And I will. You are Sebastian’s sister, and that’s all anyone needs to know. Hang the gossipmongers. They would never dare question the Earl of Roddam’s claim to you as his sister.”

  “And what of my aunt? Or the Reverend Sands? Oh, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be part of that world. I have my own life, a life I treasure. I’m respected in Allshire. The women and children of the parish need me. There’s nothing for me in that world except heartache. What would I do all day? Sit around in drawing rooms dressed like a trussed peacock, making conversation about the weather? Pah! There’s nothing I want in that world.”

  “Not even Walter?” Liz asked.

  Lilith bit her upper lip.

  “He needs you,” Liz said when Lilith did not answer. “For three years, he’s been lost. Ever since my uncle died. I believe he was lost before then, but it was a different kind of lost. He was a tad wild, gave his parents no end of grief with his reckless ways, curricle races, practical jokes, noisome parties, carousing, nothing at all respectable. He’s close friends with your cousin, if that tells you anything. But then my uncle died. He’s been listless and searching for meaning ever since. He needs you.”

  “I don’t see what I have to do with anything. I can’t help him find meaning.”

  “Ah, but you already have. I’ve seen such a visible change in him since you arrived. We all have. For the first time in his life, he’s motivated. He has a direction and a passion. Has he not talked nonstop to you about the orphanage he wants to build? He’s been searching for a purpose, a legacy, a family of his own to love. And here you are, his driving force.”

  “I’m flattered to have inspired, but I’m not a purpose. If he’s taking responsibility for his life that’s grand, but he doesn’t need me to do it.”

  It was at that moment Freya chose to fuss. Liz hoisted Freya against her chest, tucking the baby’s head between her shoulder and neck. With coos and humming and a caressing hand on Freya’s back, Liz settled the babe again.

  “Do you feel anything at all for him?” Liz asked. “Are you withdrawing because of your parentage or because you don’t care for him?”

  Lilith thought for a long while how to respond. She did care for Walter. She did not love him, not exactly. She had not known him long enough to love him, but she most certainly was attracted to him. She was, truth be told, a little in love with him. Had life been different, and had she been the Lady Lilith her brother believed her to be, she would rush headlong in love with Walter without question or consequence. Alas, life was cruel. Against her better judgment, she had allowed herself too many liberties. Whatever feelings she had for him needed to be torn asunder. Quickly. Irrevocably. The sooner the better.

  “It’s hopeless, Liz. My feelings matter naught.”

  “I beg to differ. Love will find a way if you let it.”

  Lilith strained a half-smile. She could already feel herself slipping back into the familiar, the safe and understood familiar of her parish life. Despite the protests of her heart, she knew her decision.

  By early afternoon, Lilith had resigned herself to seek out Walter.

  It seemed silly to hide from him when they were not even courting. They were merely house guests who had exchanged light flirtation, and he likely had not spared her a second thought since her declaration at dinner.

  He was not difficult to find. With Sebastian and Mr. Trethow off to the coal mine, and Hazel and Liz taking tea with Freya in the parlor, Lilith suspected he would be in the conservatory. Indeed, he was.

  The door to the conservatory stood open. As she walked the hall of the ground floor, she spied him lounging in one of the chairs, one leg crossed over the other, one elbow resting against the arm of the chair, half turned to face the sea, only his profile visible from the hall. Though it was only his profile, her heartbeat quickened. His features were soft, but his nose and chin strong. She could almost make out his long eyelashes in the afternoon light.

  The double doors were all open to the outside, giving way to a cool breeze and the sound of the gulls and waves.

  Lilith steeled herself before stepping into the room and announcing her presence. Would he prove himself the sort of heartless blueblood she had expected all aristocrats to be? Would he claim he did not care, confess undying love, and try to convince her to elope? Would he do what she expected an arrogant toff to do and invite her to become his mistress, enabling him to keep her in some capacity since he could not marry her?

  The consolation was she had their kiss to cherish. No matter how he acted in the next few moments, she resolved to remember him how he had been at the curtain wall, his eyes pools of open admiration, his lips reddened with desire. If she had to, she would separate in her mind that man from this man so as not to tarnish her memory, the memory of her first and only kiss.

  Spine straight, lips pursed, chin up, she stepped into the conservatory.

  He must have heard her steps, for he turned to face her before she made it halfway across the room. Though his eyes swept over her, taking in the simply braided hair and the old dress she had chosen to wear, his expression revealed nothing but a polite smile. But then, the polite smile seemed to reveal everything. He was not going to cut her, but neither was he going to rush to her in an awkward embrace with declarations. Was she disappointed?

  Grimacing a polite smile of her own, she approached as he stood, turning fully to her, a breathtaking specimen of manhood. Gosh, when had she become so sentimental?

  With her own sweep of a gaze, she spotted a book in his hands. Unusual sight for a man who did little reading. She took the seat diagonal from him and indicated for him to return to his seat.

  Resuming his casual posture, the book tucked into the side of his chair next to his thigh, he spoke first. “Did you ever finish reading that book Roddam recommended?”

  Well, at least it was not a comment about the weather, she supposed.

  “What book?”

  “Evelina. I caught you reading it one day, if you recall.” The polite smile had not faltered.

  The title sounded vaguely familiar. If memory served, she had not gotten past the first page, either distracted or bored, maybe both. She was not a fan of sentimental novels and had been confused why her brother would recommend it. Her eyes flitted to the book wedged next to his thigh.

  “Unless I misr
emember, it failed to hold my attention,” she said.

  “Shame. You should read it.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Pray tell, why?”

  “I’ve not finished it, and I don’t want to spoil the best parts for you, but I think you’ll find it entertaining. You see, it’s about a young woman introduced to Society. She has some misadventures because she’s, shall we say, a tad rustic, but she catches the attention of an aristocrat.”

  Lilith narrowed her eyes. “And this would interest me why?”

  “Because she’s illegitimate.”

  Oh.

  Lilith’s breath caught in her throat. That was certainly one way to broach the subject. She knew not how to respond, so she remained silent.

  He said, “Well, the thing of it is, she’s not really illegitimate, but she thinks she is. I won’t spoil the plot for you. Instead, I think you should read it for yourself.”

  Exhaling, she said, “I hardly see the point. I have no intentions of being introduced to Society, so whatever parallels you are implying are a wasted effort.”

  Walter’s polite smile deepened into a genuine smile. “Do you ever dream, Lilith?”

  Frowning, she said, “Dream? As in, when I sleep? I suppose everyone does, though I’ve not given such thought much consequence.”

  “No, not at night. Do you dream? Do you ever imagine the ridiculous—being able to fly, being able to breathe underwater, being able to sing in the opera? What about things you might want to do, places you’d want to travel? Dream a life that isn’t yours but could be?”

  She laughed. She could not help herself. What absurdity!

  “Those are the thoughts of children, not of adults. I see no point in dreaming of what can never happen. I deal with the here and now, the practical,” she said.

  “But nothing is achieved without first dreaming it.” He cocked his head to one side, studying her.

  “And yet, if it’s not achievable, then there is still no point in dreaming.”

  “Tell that to men of science, Lilith. They invent the impossible, all because they dreamed of the impossible. I believe that achievement begins with a dream, no matter how ridiculous, and if you want it enough, you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

  Lilith smoothed the invisible creases in her dress. What a perfectly absurd conversation. If she had known he would talk in riddles, she might not have sought him out.

  “Be sensible, Walter. Poverty stricken laborers cannot dream themselves into riches or happiness. Unwed mothers cannot dream themselves into a legitimate marriage or with an accepting family. Ravished women cannot dream themselves back to innocence. You’ve lived in a fairy tale life and have no awareness of what the real world is like. I live in the real world.”

  Though he still smiled, a crease had formed between his brows. It was not pity in his eyes, but a sad curiosity.

  “I can’t dream my father back to life or dream back the time I could have spent with him but didn’t. What I can do is live my life to honor his memory, to make him proud of the man I’ve become. That begins with a dream, a dream of what such a life would look like. Without the dream, I would remain a listless son, forever regretting my father’s death. I refuse to live in a shadow. If we get too stuck in the muck of our present situations, we can never see the potential of the future. There are always ways to achieve our goals if only we focus, plan, and dream. I never said it would be easy, but it is possible.”

  She sat in stunned silence. However foolish his words should sound to her, she felt more the fool. And yet, what would she dream?

  Neither spoke for a long stretch. They both stared at each other, Lilith frowning, Walter assessing.

  “A puppy,” she said at last.

  He coughed a laugh. “A puppy?”

  “I always dreamed of having a puppy. My father wouldn’t allow it, but I dreamed it all the same. A childhood dream, I know, but I’ve thought often as an adult that there’s not much stopping me from fulfilling the dream now. Only, I never have. It’s never seemed practical. I spend my time at the orphanage and making house calls. When would I have time for a puppy?”

  Why in the world was she making such absurd confessions to him? A puppy indeed!

  “What of the hospital we visited?” he asked. “What of opening a training facility for midwives?”

  “Oh, Walter. None of that is practical. I’d end up disappointed and depressed if I spent all my time dreaming of what could never be.”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Before he distracted her again, she said what she came here to say, “I’m returning to Allshire. I’ve accomplished what I came here to do. Freya and Lizbeth are healthy, and we’ve narrowed the possible nurses to three, so Lizbeth can make the final choice. I’m ready to return to my own life.”

  “You mean you’re ready to hide from life,” he muttered.

  “I do beg your pardon.” She straightened her spine and clasped her hands. “I am not hiding from anything. I like my life.”

  He shook his head. “You have it in your power to create any life you could dream. You could live anywhere. Why not be with family? Why not stay here at Dunstanburgh? Or go to Roddam Hall and reclaim your roots? The possibilities are endless, Lilith. Don’t hide because you’re afraid.”

  “How absurd. I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “No?” He arched a brow. “Prove it. Let me court you.”

  Lilith stuttered a laugh. Staring at her hands, she said, “You don’t mean that. You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough. Lilith, I do not say this with loose words. I want to court you. I beg you to give me a chance, a proper chance. I don’t care who your mother was—is that what you need me to say? I mean, I do care, because she was your mother, and I understand fully the consequences, but let’s take one step at a time, shall we? Starting with a proper courtship.”

  She sighed, her eyes still trained on her clenched hands. “It would be better if you forgot you met me. I’ll ensure our paths do not cross again. Go home, Walter. During the Season, you’ll find a lady of your station, and I’ll be but a memory. I’ll return to my life and be content, and one day, perhaps, I’ll meet someone of my station who doesn’t mind I’m long in the tooth. Or perhaps I won’t. Either way, we’ll be far better off to forget about this month.”

  She would never forget, but he would.

  “You can’t even look at me when you say it, so I know you don’t mean it.” He reached over, brave soul, and covered her hands with his. “All I’m asking is for you to agree to a courtship. If we decide we don’t suit, then so be it. And if we do, we’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. For now, let’s dream the impossible. Go back to Allshire. I’ll follow you there in however many weeks you need in which to be alone first. I’ll then court you on your terms. I’ll court you as Miss Chambers, parish midwife and teacher. Please say yes.”

  Chapter 12

  In a deep and intoxicating inhalation, Lilith breathed the sweet, honey-scented aroma of nirrhe, a late summer bloomer, and admired its white blossoms. She waved to Mr. Turnbow, the owner of the best garden in Allshire. Though he was knee-deep in soil, planting crocus and tulip bulbs that would overwinter for vibrant blooms next year, he waved back with enthusiasm. His garden offered an abundance of grape hyacinths, daffodils, brush bush, and other delights, a rainbow of nearly year-round color and heady scents.

  They took tea once a week to talk gardens and sometimes exchange clippings, though their gardening tastes and purposes differed, she being an herbalist and he a gardener. She had seen his wife through six successful births, their most recent having the audacity to arrive during a winter snowstorm earlier in the year. The Turnbow family was among the many acquaintances she had in the parish.

  Slowing her pace, she took in all the day had to offer. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, th
e day warm, much warmer than it had been on the coast without the cool sea breeze or temperamental weather.

  It felt good to be home. All was familiar.

  Her daily schedule resumed. She had never been one to sit idly or waste a day. Each hour of each day was carefully planned with teaching at the orphanage, calling on patients, fussing in the garden to weed or harvest herbs, and other comforting and predictable activities.

  It had only been a fortnight since she had returned to her little world, but already time at the castle dimmed to a distant memory. She embraced the simplicity of life in the parish, life in her one-room cottage.

  Though several people in the parish asked about her visit, none pried. Lilith suspected they all wondered why she did not move to the castle. They knew of her brother given the parade of nobility last year, her family having marched into Allshire searching for her, catching the attention of all and sundry since people of such consequence had never come to the parish. A countess, an earl, a duchess, and a duke had all come in search of her.

  Since no one would go to such lengths to find an illegitimate sibling, all in the parish assumed her the legitimate sister. The curiosity of it all was that she had not gone with her family, but rather had insisted she retain the name given to her at the orphanage, and had returned to her life as though nothing had happened; none the actions of a legitimate sister.

  They all wondered, yet none were brave enough to ask.

  Until last year, life had been simple, and everyone knew where the lines were drawn. She was an orphan and treated accordingly. Respect was earned by being one of them and contributing to the community. Over time, she came into her own as a skilled midwife and trusted teacher of the youth.

  The visit from the Earl of Roddam had blurred the lines.

  No one knew where the lines were now. A few saw her as they always had. Others became nearly obsequious, believing her to be my lady rather than Miss Chambers. Some were unsure so avoided her altogether. Strangely, the views of the local gentry had not changed, for she had always been and always would be an orphan. Unless the earl publicly acknowledged her as his legitimate sister, Lilith remained, in their eyes, rubbish. It would serve them right, she thought at times with cynicism and spite, if he did acknowledge her and they were suddenly to court her favor, all for her to give them the cut direct. But such was spiteful, and Lilith was not a spiteful person, neither was she someone who wanted or needed acknowledgment.