Genevieve spoke, drawing all eyes to her as she echoed Lily’s own sentiment back to her. “We have done nothing beyond what any decent folk would.” Her gaze held Lily’s. “You have done us no harm and have a right to be treated fairly. You have, in fact, earned our respect in your conscientious care of little Sabina.”
The child looked up upon hearing her name, and smiled around the piece of fresh white bread she was attempting to stuff into her mouth with a pudgy hand. Hearty laughter escaped the adults gathered at the table—all but Lily, though the others did not seem to note her failure to join in their mirth. She did her best to smile, while trying to still the throb of guilt she felt in her heart at Genevieve’s praise.
When the conversation resumed there was no more talk of thanks, though they did go on to discuss the accident at the tower. Lily found herself answering in a subdued voice the questions posed to her. Although Benedict had said that Tristan had already related the tale to him, Genevieve and Kendran were curious to hear the story from someone who had actually been there.
Not for the first time, Lily found herself surprised at the way they listened to her, a mere servant. Even Benedict asked her opinion of the events as if it mattered, as if she was accepted into their circle.
The sensation was oddly welcome. Her own parents would be far more apt to ask any of the servants at Lakeland for confirmation on any matter than Lily. They treated her as a young child, seeming to feel that because she had lost her memory she had also lost her ability to reason.
Immediate horror followed the thought. Her parents were simply overprotective. Never would they deliberately slight her.
Having her own loving family, she had no need to be accepted by those at Brackenmoore.
If the others noticed that she was more reticent about adding to the conversation, they gave no opinion on it. As quickly as she could do so, Lily helped Sabina to finish her meal, leaving nearly all her own untouched.
It was as Lily stood, preparing to lead the girl away, that Genevieve halted her by saying, “I mean to take charge of Sabina this morn. I wish to take the child to my own chambers to have new garments fitted, as her rapid growth requires. You are therefore free to do as you will during the morning hours, Lily.”
Lily bowed her head. “Yes, my lady.” Doing her best to keep from feeling that she had been left out in some way, she made her way from the hall. She told herself that Genevieve was simply attempting to be considerate and give her some time to herself, something she’d had precious little of since arriving at Brackenmoore.
When she returned to Sabina’s chambers, Lily realized that she did not wish to spend her free moments in the keep. Would it not suit her to be out on her own for a time, away from where she might have fear of meeting Tristan? Surely it might help to settle some of her constant confusion.
But where could she go? She knew no one. Walking anywhere about the castle grounds, Lily ran the risk of seeing Tristan even more than in the keep.
Perhaps she would take this opportunity to see how Jack, the master mason, was faring. She doubted that he would be well enough to see her himself, but she could at least ask after him. It would give her some purpose, and she was genuinely concerned for him, especially after spending time with his children.
Quickly Lily fetched her cloak and set off toward the village. She was approaching from a different direction than that of the previous day and thus must go through the town to get to Jack and Leena’s home.
Because of her common garb little attention was paid her as she walked through the narrow streets of the village, which varied greatly from her experience at Lakeland. All there knew her as their overlord’s daughter. There was something almost comforting in this new anonymity. At her home she had always felt lacking because of the fact that everyone knew she had lost her memory—that her mind was no longer whole.
Here Lily was able to look about freely as she passed neatly kept shops and residences. The folk she met along the way seemed content and prosperous, some of them nodding politely as she went by.
From the looks of things, Lily would imagine that Benedict was a kind and fair overlord. She could not help wondering what manner of overlord Tristan would be.
Lily had noted the way he had behaved yesterday. He had shown great care by seeing to the injured Jack himself, rather than delegating the responsibility to others. She felt he, too, would prove commendable in the position of master.
The man she married would have to conduct himself with just such wisdom and care. Lily was her father’s only child, his heir. That was why he had chosen Maxim, who he had assured Lily was strong and dependable, to oversee his own lands. Her father was sure Maxim would manage Lily’s inheritance well, with a competent hand.
Yet she felt that Maxim would also rule with a rigid grip. Her brief encounters with him had shown her that quality in the way he treated his retainers, seeming to prefer they adhere to a very strict code of behavior. She couldn’t imagine Maxim telling a group of village children that they had no need to stand on ceremony with him. Or even his own children, for that matter.
She knew his would be quite unlike Tristan’s more relaxed manner with Jack’s offspring, or his open warmth and affection toward Sabina.
Determinedly she quickened her step, now looking neither right nor left as she went on, since everything she noticed seemed to bring thoughts of the man she least wished to think about. It was with some surprise that she glanced up only a short time later to see that she had reached her destination.
Her resolve to get to the cottage was what gave her the courage to walk right up to the door without hesitation. Her soft knock was rewarded a moment later.
One of the children, the girl of fifteen whom she had met yesterday, opened the narrow wooden door. “Good morning, Kyla,” Lily said immediately.
The pretty blond girl was clearly surprised, but she smiled hesitantly. “Lily.”
Lily felt suddenly shy. “I do not mean to disturb you. I was simply wondering how your father is today. If you could just…?”
Before she could say another word, Leena appeared beside her daughter. “Lily, how good you are to visit. Please, come in.” She pulled the door open wider in welcome as she said, “Lord Tristan is come as well.”
Lily froze as her gaze swung to Tristan, who sat on a chair next to the wooden table. Shock rippled through her in a wave that was equal parts apprehension and unexpected yearning. She had not thought to see him here, and her defenses were down.
Lily fought an overwhelming urge to run away from him and her own reactions to him. What would he think if she did that?
Besides, both Leena and her daughter were standing there beaming at her. Which, in other circumstances, might actually have been very gratifying. They thought of her as nothing more than a castle servant, who had rendered them a slight service the day before. In spite of her consternation at seeing Tristan, she could not help being moved by such a welcome.
Even as these thoughts passed through her mind, Tristan got to his feet. “Good morrow, Lily.” His voice betrayed nothing of his own feelings.
Lily nodded stiffly. “Good morrow, my lord.”
Leena urged, “Please, come in. You are most welcome in our home.”
There was nothing Lily could do but enter. As she did so she could feel the intensity of Tristan’s gaze upon her.
Glancing about—anything was preferable to meeting Tristan Ainsworth’s compelling blue eyes—Lily saw that the interior was as tidy as the outside of the home. The main chamber contained the fire and the eating area. Numerous chests and benches rimmed the outer wall. Lily knew these had been built for the family to store their belongings, as well as for seating.
A curtain at the far end of the room had been drawn back to reveal a bed. Lily could see Jack lying beneath the coverlet. He seemed quiet enough, and she sent up a quick prayer of thanks that he was not suffering too greatly.
With barely suppressed energy Leena moved toward the table
, drawing Lily’s attention as she said, “I have warm mead if you have thirst, my…” She laughed as she halted herself in the act of speaking. “I nearly called you ‘my lady.’ Is that not whimsical?” She shrugged. “You just seem so ladylike for a maid, Lily.”
Of its own accord, Lily’s gaze flew to Tristan. He spoke easily, even as he glanced at Lily with silent warning. “Lily spent some of her childhood in a noble household.”
Leena seemed to accept this without question. “That would explain it.” She turned to Lily, holding up an earthenware jug. “The mead?”
Lily nodded as she moved to the table. She needed something to do with her trembling hands. She had thought herself so adept at playing her part. Was their ruse so transparent that this woman could notice so quickly that something was amiss? Lily did not know what she would do if they were found out. The more people who knew, the more likely that Maxim would eventually learn that she had been here. Casting a surreptitious glance toward Tristan, she saw that he was seated again and looking very relaxed and sure of himself.
In that moment Lily resented him for being so cool, especially when she was the precise opposite.
“A cup, please, daughter,” Leena directed, and Kyla hurried to the shelf. She quickly brought a cup, which her mother filled and put on the table across from Tristan. Lily perched on the edge of the bench and placed her hands around the cup. Its warmth did little to relieve the chill in her icy fingers.
Leena seemed not to notice her unease as she spoke. “The doctor has come and gone this morn. He gave Jack something to help him to sleep.” Lily could sense the concern for her husband behind the woman’s hospitable demeanor. “He said it would be best that he sleep as much as possible until the worst of the pain has passed.”
That explained why he appeared so quiet. Lily asked softly, “Has he been in a great deal of pain?”
Leena nodded, her face growing solemn. “He was in a bad state last night after the setting of that leg. If the doctor hadn’t left some of that sleeping potion I don’t know what I would have done. I sent the other children off to my brother this morning so it would be quiet in the cottage. I kept only Kyla at home in case I had need to send for…someone.” She stopped abruptly, obviously not liking the implication of what having to send for someone might mean.
Leena looked up at Tristan then, smiling too brightly. “I never expected Lord Tristan to turn up again after all his kindness of yesterday. And the news he’s brought! What a relief to know we need have no worry about the future.” She blinked back grateful tears as she gazed at Tristan.
Kyla put a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder. “His lordship has brought Mother the deed to a small farm near the village. The doctor says Father will not lose his leg, but he will not be able to walk again. With land of our own to grow a crop we will do very well.”
Lily turned to study Tristan, surprised to see just how uncomfortable he appeared at their praise. He practically squirmed in his seat.
Lily realized that Tristan had acted quickly indeed if he had already been to his brother and arranged to have this done. Again, though she did not wish for it to happen, she felt a warm softness in her breast at his kindness.
But she did not want him to know this. She looked at Leena. “I am very happy for you all.”
Leena was still smiling at Tristan. “The Ainsworths have ever been ones to act with fairness toward the village folk. My lord Tristan, and Lord Benedict, of course, have continued in that order.”
Tristan spoke up. “There is no need to be so grateful, Leena. The accident was no fault of Jack’s. How could I do other than feel responsible for his wellbeing? As overlord, Benedict was in complete agreement with my suggestion. He also agreed that we must try to prevent such a thing from occurring in future.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “The ground was very slippery and may continue to be a problem at the signal tower, especially when the weather worsens.”
Lily frowned, his words making her think of something that hadn’t occurred to her yesterday because of her distress over the accident. Hesitantly, not knowing how her opinion would be taken, she said, “I do not wish to offer aid where none is needed or welcome, but I just recalled something.”
There was no hint of censure in Tristan’s tone as he replied, “Feel free to speak your mind, Lily.”
She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with offering her suggestion in spite of his invitation. When his blue eyes seemed to do nothing but encourage her, she knew she must go on. “I was thinking that at home in my father’s gardens, the walkways can be very slippery when it is quite cold. But the ones made from small pebbles do not seem to become so as quickly. I was wondering, would it be possible to cover the ground at the base of the signal tower with pebbles?” She halted abruptly, feeling no less unsure of herself now that the words were said.
As she spoke, a pensive frown had creased Tristan’s brow, and now he said, “Very interesting.” He fell into a thoughtful silence.
Lily continued to feel unsure of herself as she studied him. Finally he nodded. “That might very well help, Lily. The stones that are left over from the actual building of the signal tower could be broken up into smaller pieces and spread around the area. Even if they settled into the ground after a time they would help.” He smiled at her then. “What a fine idea you have had.”
Lily could not stop the rush of satisfaction and happiness his praise brought. She looked down at her hands to hide the heat of exhilaration that rose in her cheeks.
Something, some inner sense, made her look up into the eyes of Leena. The woman was studying her with no small amount of interest.
Hurriedly, Lily tried to think of what she might have done to bring about such inquisitiveness. Could it be her reaction to Tristan’s praise? She thought not, for the woman was not looking at him. Lily reconsidered all she had said, and as she did so knew a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
She had spoken of gardens—her father’s gardens. It was unlikely that the father of a servant, as Lily professed to be, would refer to the gardens as his own. Lily realized that she had made a terrible error in speaking that way. Yet she was saved from having to think of how to explain the slip when a soft moan came from the direction of the bed.
Immediately Leena rose and went to her husband’s aid. Tristan followed her.
Lily took the opportunity to stand and say, “I really must be getting back to the keep now.” All she wanted was to be away. Even though she knew it was not meant in malice, she could not escape the presence of all-hearing ears and all-seeing eyes, even here.
Kyla stood, too. “You need not go.”
Lily did not meet that artless gaze. “Oh, really, I must. Your mother is very occupied with your father and I am expected back at the castle,” she assured Kyla earnestly.
Kyla nodded. “You have our thanks for coming.”
“And you mine for your hospitality,” Lily answered. She held her breath as she followed Kyla to the door and made her exit.
Lily was nearly to the roadway when she heard Tristan call her name. She paused, biting her lip, not wanting to talk to him, to see him, to feel the way she did when he looked into her eyes.
Yet as she listened to his approach, Lily knew she could not remain standing here with her back to him. What would he think of such a thing? Slowly she swung around, focusing her attention on the silver chain that fastened his dark blue, fur-lined cloak. “My lord.”
He replied with gentle admonition. “There is no need to stand on ceremony, Lily. We are alone.”
She glanced at his face and away, but not before she saw the uncertainty in those handsome features. She wondered at it even as she answered, “I do not wish to forget again, my lord Tristan. It is best to remember my professed position at all times. You heard what just happened inside. Leena will be wondering about me now. I would think that you would not want to draw attention to us—me—especially after what happened yesterday.”
For a mo
ment there seemed a hint of bitterness in his tone as he said, “I do not believe you will ever allow yourself to forget your assumed position here, Lily. And as far as what happened yesterday, what has it to do with anything?”
She could hardly believe her ears. “What has it to do with anything? Why, you were caught attempting to force yourself upon me by your very own intended bride.”
His eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Force myself upon you, Lily? Both of us know that was not what happened. Not once have I had to force myself upon you. You have come to me each and every time by your own will. And if you permit me to say it, quite enthusiastically.”
He caught the blow she aimed at him before it landed, his large fist engulfing hers. Her eyes burned with outrage, which was even hotter at the knowledge that he spoke the truth. Yet she could not admit that. “It was not I who laid hands upon you. It is only because of her own generous nature that Genevieve does not guess at the extent of what she saw.”
Tristan dropped her hand and his gaze. “Dear God, you speak truly of Genevieve.” He looked at her then, his eyes dark with sadness. “You must realize that I intended no wrong. I but wished to speak of my gratitude for what you did for Jack.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before adding, “Why can we not find a moment of peace between us, Lily?”
She looked at him for a long heartbeat, her own chest aching at the painful reality of their circumstances. “Perhaps our…association would have turned out this way in the end anyway, Tristan. Perhaps fate stepped in to favor us in tearing us apart.”
The degree of shock that registered on his strong features rocked her to the very core. When he spoke she had to strain to hear the words. “You may tell yourself that, Lily. The fact that you would even utter such a lie is proof to me of how greatly you have changed.” His gaze burned into her, scorching her. “Yet neither you nor anyone else will rob me of the love that we once shared. That you do not remember it is a thought so indescribably shattering to me that I ache with pity for you. My hope of your eventually recalling even the memory of it, for your own sake, is all that keeps me from sending you away.”
Winter's Bride Page 14
