Winter's Bride

by Catherine Archer

  Immediately Tristan shook his head in horror.

  He was bound to Genevieve.

  What had been between him and Lily was finished. Any attraction he felt for her now was brought on by the memory of the love they had shared. No matter what came, no matter how difficult it might be between them, he would not deny the truth of what they had had together. There was no shame in that, no betrayal of his intended bride.

  No one would be allowed to take the past from him. Not even Lily herself.

  * * *

  Lily wrapped her cloak more closely about herself and tried to ignore the chill that seeped beneath it. She had left Sabina playing not only with Genevieve, but with Marcel, who to Lily still seemed more attentive to the young woman than a mere brother by marriage. Yet as neither Genevieve nor any of the others appeared to take any note of his attention, Lily did her utmost to convince herself that it was not true. She need not suspect others of untoward behavior because her own had proved so wanton.

  “Good morrow.” A deep voice greeting her made her raise her head in surprise.

  Her surprise only deepened when she saw Benedict standing there. Other than at mealtimes she had not seen the man since the night she’d arrived at Brackenmoore. For the first time she realized that physically he was an older and even more broad-shouldered version of Tristan. Yet in him she sensed a cynicism that was not present in Tristan, who seemed to have a great thirst for life in spite of everything. She suddenly understood that of his brothers, Marcel was the most like the baron, watchful and reserved.

  Benedict’s assessing gaze made her wonder if this meeting was not one of chance, as she replied, “Good morrow, my lord.”

  His direct words confirmed that thought. “I have been looking for you.”

  Lily stiffened and Benedict frowned, his black eyebrows drawing together over compelling blue eyes and a straight nose. Lord, even in displeasure these Ainsworths were a handsome lot.

  He lost no time in coming to the point. “Do you know why my brother is staying away from Brackenmoore?”

  Her eyes widened. “I did not send him away, if that is what you imply. How could I do so? This is his home to command, not mine.”

  “You would not have to send him away with words, Lily.”

  She raised her chin, affronted at the censure in his voice. “I repeat, I did not send him away. It was my understanding that you had asked him to go on some errand of the estate.”

  He nodded reasonably enough. “I did, but he should not have been gone more than three days. It has been six.”

  He had no need to tell Lily how many days it had been. She had counted every moment of those six days in guilt, regret and—though she wished she could deny it—longing.

  He startled her from her preoccupation by adding, “Is there any reason for me to have undue worry about my brother?”

  Now Lily saw the anxiety in that blue gaze, and her stance softened. This man loved Tristan. His care was what made him broach this subject with her. Because of that and the fact that honesty was so much a part of her, Lily replied, “He was upset with me, upset that I had had what might have been a memory of the past, but was not willing to simply accept it as fact. But I do not believe he would go away and not come back because of me. What I think matters not that greatly to him.”

  Benedict grimaced, looking out over the curtain wall. “I think you underestimate how much you affect him.”

  She shook her head. “You do not know how things are between us.”

  His gaze raked her. “Do you?” Before she could form a reply, he went on. “The only thing that kept Tristan alive after the accident was the babe—your babe. I know you don’t believe you are the child’s mother—or that you ever loved my brother—but you are.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, and he waved her to silence. “You are free to think whatever you wish, no matter how ridiculous…”

  Lily would not accept this, even from the imposing Benedict Ainsworth. “My opinions may seem ridiculous to you, my lord, but I assure you they are not. And I will not allow you to disparage me so vilely. It is completely without warrant. Perhaps if you were to put yourself in my place, at the mercy of someone else’s version of what may or may not be fact, you would not be so ready to accept their truth.”

  Benedict’s brow rose and for the first time she saw amusement on his face. “Mayhap that is so.” He bowed. “Most humbly do I beg your pardon, lady.”

  Even as Lily doubted that this man had ever in his life done anything humbly, his expression changed again, this time to regret, as he said, “I blame myself in some ways. If I had made a more thorough effort to examine you that night…Yet the babe was crying and Tristan was bleeding from the wound to his head. There was so much blood. I simply did not see how you could be alive, and I felt no signs of life. You and Tristan would be married now, raising your daughter together as you should be. As it is, my brother is no longer a whole man.”

  Lily heard the pain in his voice. She understood his sorrow at having mistakenly left the woman he had not known, his regret at the consequences of that decision. With complete conviction she found herself saying, “If by the remotest chance you are both telling the truth, I can assure you with a whole heart that I do not blame you in the least. There is no doubt in my mind that you would not leave me or anyone else, be they friend or foe, to die alone on the road.”

  He stood silently for a long moment, taking her measure. “I find that I begin to see why my brother came to love you, Lily Gray. There is more good in you than I would have expected, considering.”

  What he meant by the ‘considering’ part she chose not to question. Some things were best left unsaid, especially if, as she suspected, he was referring to her parentage. She said instead, “And Tristan is a fortunate man to have you to champion him.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, surprising her no small amount. “Mark me well here, damsel. Tristan does not require me to champion him. He is well able to stand on his own merit. It was he who had the foresight to build the signal tower on the point not far from here. His efforts will make it safe for not only the Ainsworth ships, but others. I know he has other projects in mind. Our Tristan pores over those dusty old drawings and emerges with treasure.” He stepped closer, as if relating a great secret. “And that is because there is a great treasure in him, not just a brilliant mind, but something far more valuable—a loving and devoted heart. Should you never remember the past you once shared, I bid you recognize that in him.”

  Lily had no reply to such a directive. She said not a word as he swung around and strode away.

  How could she tell him that it did not matter what she recognized? Tristan had no wish for her to strengthen any bond between them. That he had kissed her she dismissed as anger and frustration. His abrupt change of mood and subsequent abandonment had made that obvious.

  Yet in spite of all that, Benedict’s words had moved her. To hear of Tristan’s grief from another made it all the more real and compelling. Somewhere inside her, where compassion dwelled in great abundance, Lily knew a sense of empathy for the pain he had suffered.

  She would attempt to remember from whence his vexation with her came and try to remain unmoved by it. That much she could do without compromising her need to hold her attraction to him in check.

  “My lord.”

  Tristan looked up from his work to see a serving woman standing nearby. “Yes, Maggie?”

  “The maid, Lily, has sent me to ask your assent to take Sabina for a ride.”

  Tristan grimaced. He had not seen Lily since his return to Brackenmoore late last eve, though he had sent for Sabina directly before breakfast. He knew that it was an obvious break in their routine, but he did not wish to answer questions about his extended absense in front of the woman who so plagued his every thought. The seven days had seemed an eternity, and in the end he had resolved nothing by staying away.

  Nor was he accomplishing anything by avoiding her now. If she wi
shed to leave, she would get word to him. He must learn to face her and his feelings. After a time he nodded thoughtfully. “You may tell the la—Lily—that she may make ready to go on this outing immediately if that is her desire.”

  The maid curtsied. “Yes, my lord.”

  He stopped her just as she was leaving. “You will come back and inform me of her plans.”

  “As you wish, Lord Tristan.”

  When Lily led Sabina out onto the steps of the keep, she spied the waiting horses with a frown of consternation. Yet it was not the fine mounts that caused her frown. Her displeasure was caused by the fact that it was Tristan Ainsworth himself, dressed for riding in a heavy cape of dark blue, who held their reins.

  The fleeting hope that he was simply standing there in preparation of going on some outing of his own disappeared quickly when he said with the utmost aplomb, “It’s a perfect day for a ride, is it not? I can scarce contain my anticipation.”

  Sabina pulled free from Lily’s hand to go to her father. “You are coming with us?” There was no mistaking her happiness.

  Tristan swung her up in the air. “I am coming with you. That is, if Lily doesn’t mind.” The poorly disguised uncertainty in his tone belied his confident manner.

  Lily could only be glad that none of the other servants were present to hear him asking her permission this way. She forced away her irritation at the request and reminded herself of her decision to try to show him more compassion.

  She smiled with studied politeness and went down the steps toward him. “Good morrow, my lord.” Tristan seemed slightly taken aback at her civility, as well he might be after their last meeting, but Lily did not give him the satisfaction of reacting as he expected.

  Obviously relieved at her pleasant demeanor, he handed her the reins of the mare with a wide smile of his own.

  In a matter of moments they were mounted and off, Sabina seated before her father on his stallion. Once outside the castle wall he set a fairly brisk pace, and Lily was grateful, for it discouraged conversation.

  The snow of the previous week had melted, and though the air was cool, the sky was a deep shade of blue. The same shade as Tristan Ainsworth’s eyes, came the unbidden thought.

  Lily sighed heavily. Was she to have no peace from such thoughts? Was her own traitorous mind to always play the betrayer without pity or surcease?

  Lily spurred her mare on, galloping across the field. The wind of her passage whipped the ribbon from the end of her braid, spreading her long straight hair behind her in an ebony tangle.

  It was only as she came to the edge of the wood beyond the wide cleared area around the castle that she slowed, then stopped. She would not endanger the mare by racing her through the woods. Breathing deeply, she slid to the ground and turned to watch as Tristan and Sabina continued toward her. Lily could hear the child’s excited chatter as they approached.

  Tristan drew to a halt, and Sabina babbled happily, “Lily won, Lily won.” Clearly she had thought they were having a race.

  “But Lily didn’t tell us there was a race, dear heart. If she was racing, that means she was cheating,” Tristan said, studying Lily closely.

  Briefly she stiffened, not caring for his remark. But being accused of cheating was preferable to his knowing she had ridden off in a huff over her own thoughts. She cast them what she hoped was an easy smile. “Your father is right, poppet, I cheated. It isn’t winning unless both people know there is a race on. I should have declared my intentions first. I was simply overzealous. Next time I will state my challenge.”

  Sabina began to fidget. “Can we get down, too?”

  “If you like.” Tristan slid to the ground and set his daughter on her feet.

  She pranced about. “May I get a present for Lily?” When he nodded, the child ran in among the trees and began to pick up cones.

  Lily looked after her with genuine affection. “She is such a delight.”

  Tristan’s reply made her turn back to him. “I knew you would see that.” She could not mistake the satisfaction in his tone.

  Lily felt herself stiffen. “Anyone would think the same.”

  “Of course,” he replied evenly, but she was not deaf to the underlying smugness in his manner as he moved to stand closer to her. Yet he seemed almost oblivious to her as his long, lean fingers toyed with the reins.

  In spite of her resolve, she found that she could not look away from his hands, hands that had touched her own flesh so knowingly—so very adeptly. Wrenching her gaze away, Lily found it now focusing on the powerful breadth of his shoulders, mere inches from her own. She closed her eyes. She seemed to have no command of herself, at least not with him so close and large and male.

  Acting on a need to put distance between herself and the man, Lily walked into the woods, leading her horse behind her. She moved to stand close to Sabina, who was now sitting beneath a tree, her cones scattered in her lap as her chubby fingers attempted to arrange them into a circle. Her voice sounding overbright, Lily said. “May I help you?”

  Sabina beamed up at her. “Yes, you may help me.”

  Lily bent and fiddled with the cones, chagrined to see that her hands were shaking. Glancing over to where Tristan had been standing, Lily saw that he was still there. Thankfully he had not come after her, seemed in fact to be gazing off into the distance.

  Following the direction of his gaze, she saw that a rider was approaching. Lily stood and watched as he came closer. Something about him—the almost arrogant set of his gray head, the square angle of his shoulders—made her frown thoughtfully. Indeed, she had seen him only once, had not spoken more than a few words to him, but…

  Lily took two steps forward, squinting even as he continued toward them on the horse. She was aware the moment when Tristan’s body tautened. Casting one anxious glance back over his shoulder to where Lily and Sabina had entered the shelter of the trees, he strode out to meet the new arrival.

  Lily looked toward the rider again. A frown marred her brow as she became more certain as to whom the newcomer might be.

  She felt a strange sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Without giving herself time to think, Lily swung around and lifted Sabina into her arms. Dragging the mare behind them, she smiled reassuring down into the child’s inquisitive face. “Shh now. We must be quiet for a bit. We will have a quiet game.”

  Sabina whispered back, her voice filled with barely suppressed excitement, “Will we hide from da?”

  Lily nodded. “Aye, we are going to hide from your da, while he talks to someone. Do you think you can be so very quiet that they will not know where we are?”

  The child clamped her lips shut, but her eyes were gleeful. Moving quietly, Lily took Sabina farther into the forest and set her on her feet. Then, with shaking fingers, she tied the mare to a branch.

  She bent over and whispered, “Will you wait here, and I will go back and see if he is behind us?”

  Sabina nodded, totally caught up in the adventure, her gray eyes wide.

  With even more care to remain silent, Lily crept back to the edge of the wood. Peeking out through the leaves, she saw what she had expected: it was none other than Maxim Harcourt. For the first time she noted the sharp haughtiness of his features as he looked down at Tristan.

  “Why have you taken it upon yourself to trespass upon my brother’s land?” Tristan asked coolly.

  Maxim’s brow rose. “That is a poor greeting indeed, Ainsworth. But I should expect no more from one of your family.”

  Tristan smiled, but it was a smile without humor. “Again I ask you, Harcourt, what has brought you here?”

  Maxim leaned forward on his pommel, obviously deciding to get to the point, since his insult had scored no response. As he began, Lily shivered at the ice in his tone. “It has come to me, Ainsworth, that someone of this keep might have some notion of where my bride is. One of my men caught a glimpse of the man who launched a message from her over my castle walls on the head of an arrow. He had the dist
inct impression that the man might be wearing your brother’s colors.”

  Tristan laughed as if he found this highly amusing, though Lily thought she sensed a hint of unease in it. “Is that so?” When he went on, she realized she must have been mistaken, for his tone was completely assured. “We had heard that you seemed to have misplaced your intended. I would wonder why you seem to have a difficult time keeping a woman by you.”

  Lily had the distinct impression that he was referring not only to herself but also to Genevieve. Maxim was not deaf to this and replied bitterly, “You may have fallen for that whelp Genevieve’s lies, but that is your concern. I but tried to look after her. You may be sure that I do not begrudge you the task of keeping that damsel in line. Even at fourteen she was a deceitful and disobedient girl. My bride is another matter entirely.”

  Tristan’s gaze narrowed, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword. “Nothing that was yours has been taken by me or anyone else at Brackenmoore. Now I suggest you go.”

  Maxim looked down at him for another long moment. Then he smiled and, as with Tristan earlier, there was no humor in it. “Mark me well, Ainsworth, should I learn that you have lied to me, I will make you pay.” He pulled back on the reins of his horse, making him rear in the air, then galloped away.

  Lily watched until he was well out of hearing, then sagged against the trunk of the tree. For a long time she just stood there in the shelter of the woods, her heart pounding as she realized just what she had done. Maxim, her own fiancé had been not more than twenty feet from her, obviously concerned for her safety, and she had deliberately hidden herself from him.

  Dear God, had she completely lost her mind? Where was her sense of loyalty?

  Gripped by a panic and confusion that terrified her, Lily ran back to where Sabina waited. The little one looked up expectantly from her newfound pile of cones. “Are we still hiding from da?”

  Lily strove desperately to keep her feelings from being revealed in her tone. “No, now it is time for you to go out and surprise him. Can you do that?”