Lily stood then, struck silent as he stalked off. Even if she could risk creating a scene by calling him back, she would not have done so.
The degree of his fury showed that she had gone too far already. And all in aid of doing nothing more than protecting her own battered feelings from possible hurt by him.
Chapter Nine
Lily spent a long and sleepless night.
On one hand she did not care if she never saw Tristan again. On the other hand she knew that she was as much to blame as he for the things that had been said between them the previous day.
It was not surprising that Tristan had become so very angry over her accusing him of forcing his attention on her. Her insecurity had made her say such a thing. Tristan had done many things to enrage her, not the least of which was kidnap her, but he had never actually forced himself upon her.
She had been an all-too-willing participant in each incident. Perhaps for that very reason she should go from Brackenmoore. She kept telling herself that she was not yet ready, but was she perhaps only delaying the inevitable? And for what purpose?
All along she had thought she could somehow make sense of her feelings. She had gained nothing, felt further from understanding than she had ever been. The question was, could she bring herself to leave now, ignore the still-compelling need to stay?
Morning found her no closer to making a decision. She told herself that she was simply too tired.
After the meal she took Sabina out for a walk, but not for long. The child seemed listless, and there was a sharp chill in the air.
They spent the rest of the morning in her chambers, where Sabina played beside the hearth with her toys, though even they did not hold her attention as usual. Not long before the noon meal she curled up on Lily’s lap and fell asleep.
Not wanting to wake her when she seemed so tired, Lily did not go down to the hall as the appointed hour came. When Genevieve, as beautifully garbed as ever in rich satin, opened the chamber door a short time later, Lily looked up from stroking the child’s head and gave a hesitant nod. “My lady.”
Genevieve’s gaze was fixed on her hand as it stroked that dark head. There was an expression of resignation in her green eyes, tinged with something that Lily could only call sadness. Genevieve took in a deep breath as she looked up and met Lily’s gaze. “Is there aught the matter with Sabina?”
Lily shook her head, speaking softly. “I do not know. She just seems a bit tired this day. I did not wish to waken her until she had rested. I realize I should have sent someone to beg your leave to allow her to sleep through the meal.”
Genevieve shook her own head. When she spoke there was no hint in her voice that she held any resentment toward Lily for not gaining her permission. “Do not worry on that score. You are in charge of her care. I simply came to see if all was well. Tristan has gone away from Brackenmoore for the day or he would have come himself. He is ever the one to see to the child’s welfare. He has only been less occupied with her since your arrival. No doubt it is because he is very busy with completing the tower. I am certain you will have more direct contact with him when that is done.”
Lily felt herself cringe inside. She had no need to see more of Tristan. She replied in that vein. “I am content with things as they are, my lady. I but wish to care for the child in the best way I can.”
Genevieve simply looked at Lily and Sabina for a long moment. “You have the child’s best wishes at heart, of that I am certain.”
Again Lily was assaulted by guilt at the way she had betrayed this woman with Tristan. What would Genevieve say if she knew all that had happened between them? Lily could not imagine the degree of hurt she would feel if Tristan were her intended husband.
Lily looked directly into those searching green eyes. “I mean no harm to anyone here, my lady.”
Genevieve returned the look. “I know that, Lily. Things would be completely different were it otherwise, wouldn’t they?”
The woman’s directness shocked Lily into silence, and she glanced down to collect her thoughts. The statement seemed to imply that Genevieve knew Lily was here for some reason other than what had been stated, but that she understood Lily was only doing what she must.
Lily took a deep breath. Surely Tristan’s fiancée did not mean all that Lily had read into her words. She could not, else why would she allow Lily to remain at Brackenmoore?
Taking another breath to gather her courage, Lily raised her head. Genevieve was already gone.
Lily was not sure if her leaving without explaining herself further was a blessing or a curse. The questions boiling inside her had not been answered.
Yet perhaps they should not be.
Sabina continued to be listless throughout the day. Someone, obviously Genevieve, had had a tray sent to Sabina’s chambers not long after she had visited. It held more than enough for two, but neither Lily nor the child had eaten more than a few bites.
At the dinner hour there was no change in Sabina’s condition. Genevieve came to the room again and asked after the young one, who was this time awake, precluding any but polite conversation. When Sabina asked for her father she was told that Tristan had not yet returned to the castle, but that he was due home that very night.
When the child fretted about this Genevieve seemed to grow slightly more concerned, for it was unlike Sabina to do so. She held the little one for a time, but like Lily, she could find no clue as to the problem. In the end they decided that Sabina must just be overtired. She had stood for some time having her new gowns made the previous day.
That night Lily woke to the sound of deep ragged breathing coming from the child’s bed.
She ran over to check on her charge. The fire had died down in the grate and the room was only dimly lit, so Lily had to strain to make out Sabina’s face. She appeared flushed in the gloom. Even as Lily watched, the child tossed restlessly beneath the covers.
Lily reached out to smooth the hair back from the little one’s brow and realized that her face felt unusually hot. Whatever malady had been lingering in her the whole day had finally come to the fore.
Now what was she to do? Lily had no experience with illness in children. She was not sure what action to take. She had no notion how serious this illness might be, thus making the idea of waiting until morning unthinkable.
Yet whom should she call for aid? Not Genevieve—not after what she had said that morning. It would be too difficult to face her alone with the intimacy of night pressing around them.
Sabina tossed restlessly, murmuring, “Da.”
Lily knew what she had to do. The child wanted her father. No matter how difficult it might be to face him, Lily had to fetch Tristan. He would know what to do, of that she was certain.
Though she had never been there, Lily knew that Tristan’s chamber was at the far end of the hall. Sabina had pointed it out to her nearly every time they passed by.
Without giving herself time to consider her actions, Lily went to the chest and pulled on her cape over the sheer nightdress she had worn the night Tristan abducted her. She had no other bed robe. Quickly she lit a candle and hurried from the bedchamber.
The candle cast little illumination in the darkened hallway, but Lily knew where she was going. She had found herself more aware of the door to Tristan’s chamber than any other in the castle.
Yet when she arrived before that well-known oaken panel, Lily hesitated. Should she knock upon it? Should she simply go in?
She scowled in indecision.
She glanced about the hall, as if doing so would somehow help her solve her dilemma. The castle was still as a midnight sky.
Surely if she knocked loudly enough to wake a sleeping man, Lily risked waking not only Tristan but the whole household. She could not face the thought of what she would see in Genevieve’s eyes if she were discovered standing here outside the door to Tristan’s chamber in the dead of night.
It would be especially uncomfortable after their strange exchange of the
morning. The fact that her presence could quickly and reasonably be explained would not prevent those initial moments from being too incredibly painful for them both.
With the thought of that impossible scenario riding hard on her heels, Lily turned the handle and held her breath as the door swung open. Quickly she stepped inside and closed it after herself.
She hesitated, her heart pounding as she pressed her back against the solid surface of the door. The room was very dark, the furnishings no more than hulking shadows in the gloom, as the coals had nearly died out in the hearth. The thought of waking Tristan made her swallow around the dryness in her throat.
That was why she had come here and that was what she had to do. Keeping in mind the fact that Sabina needed him, Lily moved toward the bed. The candlelight fell in a golden circle around her, shedding its glow upon first the edge of a thick carpet, then a table piled with books and scrolls, then an open chest. And finally a bed. It was a huge piece of furniture, with heavy hangings pulled shut against the chill of night.
Taking a deep breath, Lily moved forward and put her hand upon the heavy brocade hanging. Taking another deep breath, she closed her fingers around the edge and jerked it back before her courage could completely fail her.
Before she could even say a word, Tristan rolled toward her, his blue eyes alert in the darkness.
Lily dared not even attempt to read the array of emotions that raced across his expressive face as he saw her there. Quickly she blurted, “It is Sabina. She has fallen ill.”
“Sabina!” Shock showed in both his face and tone. He had thrown back the covers and reached for his clothing from the chest at the foot of the bed before she could say another word.
Lily did all she could to ignore the way the light of the candle shone on the smooth skin of his lean flanks as he pulled on his leggings. She wanted to turn away when he reached up to drag his tunic over his head and the light danced on the hard muscles of his chest and arms.
When he swung around to face her, fully dressed, it was some seconds before Lily was able to find her tongue. It was Tristan who spoke. “Have you sent for Genevieve?”
She shook her head to clear it of the images that made her breath quicken, as well as in denial. “I have not. Sabina asked for you and it was to you I came. I did not know what else to do.”
He strode toward the door, forcing her to run after him. “We must go to her.”
She hurried along behind him. Tristan appeared not to need the light from the candle to find his way. His path was lit by worry and love for his daughter.
When they reached Sabina’s chambers, Tristan went to the bed and bent over her, his eyes shadowed with concern. Lily moved to stand beside him, watching as he smoothed her brow in the same manner that she had done earlier. His large hands were so strong yet gentle.
As he touched her, Sabina opened her eyes. “Da.”
He leaned over her, kissing her forehead. “Sweetness.”
She looked around them, saying petulantly, “Why are you here in the night?” Obviously she had been only partially aroused from her sleep earlier and remembered nothing of asking for him.
He smiled tenderly. “I am here because Lily came to tell me that you are not well. You do feel warm to the touch, love. Do you have any pain?”
Sabina looked to where Lily stood beside her father. “My throat feels bad and my nose is closed.” She rubbed a chubby hand over her throat.
Tristan reached out and lifted her into his arms. He then went to the chair where Lily had sat with her earlier in the day. “Nothing else, sweeting? You are sure there is no other pain?”
She shook her head. “No. I not hurt anywhere else.” From where she leaned against her father’s chest, she looked over at Lily. “You and Lily not worry.”
“We aren’t going to worry, moppet. You just rest here and Lily and I will make you feel better, all right?”
Sabina nodded.
Tristan looked at Lily and found her eyes round and silver as twin moons in the candlelight. Comprehending how distressed she was, he spoke evenly and gently. “It seems the child has caught a chill. I do not believe there is any real threat. We need only nurse her through it.”
She rubbed her hand over the edge of her cape nervously. “What shall we do then?”
He indicated the candle she still held in her hand. “You may light more candles.” She moved to do so even as he added, “Then I would like for you to get a clean cloth and a bowl of water.”
She turned from lighting the candles. “Should I awaken someone else?”
Tristan shook his head. “There is no point at the moment. They can do no more than we two.”
Lily nodded determinedly. Now that he had given her something to do she seemed less frightened, and moved of her own accord to put more wood on the fire.
Tristan had not requested this, and he was grateful to see it. It meant that Lily was beginning to think more clearly again. The child must certainly be kept warm.
He smiled, albeit stiffly due to his concern for Sabina. Together they would do very well here.
Tristan continued to watch Lily as she scurried to fulfill his other requests. He realized that she must have had little experience with childhood illnesses. The last three years had taught him much about such things. Seeing Sabina and talking with her had allayed much of his own fear, although he was willing to admit that his apprehension was not completely gone. He realized that children simply fell prey to these sorts of ailments and could as quickly recover from them with no lasting harm.
In deference to the fact that Lily very likely did not know this, he said, “Sabina has had such illnesses before and recovered quite well, sometimes by the next morn. It is thus with children.”
She turned to him, smiling hopefully, and he felt his heart swell with reaction to her vulnerability and anxiety for his—their child. “Truly?”
Inexplicably, he felt an overwhelming desire to reach out and comfort her, but Sabina’s soft weight in his lap reminded him that this would be a mistake. Had he not already risked his daughter’s future enough because he could not keep his hands from Lily?
All the day long her words had haunted him. He had thought of nothing else as he had ridden out to help repair the wagon that was bringing the polished metal shield for the signal tower. He had thought of nothing else as he sweated to help lift the wagon for its new wheel. He had thought of nothing else as they made the journey to Brackenmoore, even though the arrival of the shield meant that the project he had worked so diligently to complete would soon be finished.
All that mattered was that he had told Lily he wished he could send her away. In the deepest, darkest part of his soul, Tristan knew that this could not be further from the truth.
He told himself it was because he was certain she was close to the truth, that it was only her own fear that kept her from remembering all now. Kept her from recovering her past and thus herself. He suspected that she had accused him of force because she was as upset at the thought of hurting Genevieve as he was.
But to tell her he knew what she was going through would serve neither of them. The fact that their physical reaction to one another kept getting in the way of any true understanding between them was all too obvious.
Instead Tristan pulled his scattered emotions about him. He spoke with what he hoped was assurance as he watched her pour water from the pitcher on the table into the washing bowl. “Aye, truly, Lily. I know what must be done. Bring the cloth and the water, and you shall see how quickly she is made better.”
Lily brought the items promptly. “The water is cool as you asked.”
While she stood before him in that quietly elegant way she had, Tristan recalled how very surprised he had been to find her bent over his bed not so very many minutes gone by. He could not admit to the anticipation and gladness seeing her there had awakened in him. That those feelings had immediately been replaced by his fear and concern for Sabina did not completely erase them from his mind.<
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What would he have done had Lily been there for the reasons he had first supposed? Would he have found the courage to deny them both?
That was a question Tristan could not answer. He hoped not to find himself in a situation where he must do so.
He reached out and took the cloth from her hand, making sure not to touch her. It was no small irritation to him when he saw that his hand was trembling.
He concentrated on Sabina, dipping the cloth into the bowl, then wringing most of the water from it. He could feel Lily’s close attention as he smoothed the cloth over Sabina’s heated brow. The child sighed as if the coolness was comforting to her.
All the while, Tristan’s attention was on Lily and the length of scantily clad leg exposed by the cape, which had become parted during her activities. Tristan felt sweat break out on his upper lip and wished that he could wipe it away with the cloth.
He could not, not without giving away far more than he wanted to.
Irritation with himself made his voice unexpectedly rough as he said, “Fetch the table over here to set the bowl upon. There is no need for you to stand there and hold it.”
He felt her stiffen, but she said nothing as she went to get the table. When she returned he could still feel the rigidity in her body and knew that he could not blame her for reacting thus. She had done nothing to cause his frustration—other than be Lily.
Pausing, he looked up at her and said, “Forgive me. I did not mean to speak so harshly.”
She looked at him closely, her eyes becoming soft with sympathy. “You are forgiven. I understand that you are worried. The matter is already forgotten.”
His gaze shied from hers. What she said erred too kindly in his favor. Yet he could not admit the truth of his thoughts about her. He reminded himself that it would serve neither of them to do so.
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