“And you did openly admit that you are Sabina’s mother?”
Lily stepped back from him, frustrated at his stubborn desire to try to continue their ruse. “Tristan, how could I do otherwise? I simply did not tell her anything about us.”
He raked a hand through his still-wet hair. “Of course you could not do otherwise. What is truly maddening is your ability to continue to have any uncertainty about what we were to each other. I am simply overcome by your complete and utter stubbornness.”
Lily glared at him. “I am not stubborn. You know what I believed and why.” She looked away. “That brief flash of memory that came to me only moments ago has changed that. It has further convinced me that you and I did indeed have deep feelings for one another.”
He took a step toward her. “And saying that, can you still tell me that you intend to leave?”
She rubbed a trembling hand over her troubled brow. “As long as there is any chance of salvaging my family’s future, I must. You think that I am too tightly bound to my parents and without just cause. This may indeed be so, but I owe them my loyalty for all the love they have shown me. I must marry Maxim even if it is only to secure my father’s position in the new court. If I had been a more dutiful daughter in the beginning, had not disobeyed them and got myself with child, none of this would have occurred.” She forced Tristan to meet her gaze. “Put yourself in my father’s place if you can for a moment. Imagine what it would be like if someone were to take Sabina away from you.”
He exploded in outrage. “It is not the same. I would not so attempt to control my daughter by deciding whom she could love.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Even if that man was someone such as…say, Maxim Harcourt?”
“She would never care for one such as he!”
Lily shrugged. “You are likely correct if all you say about him is true.” Warmth suffused her at the thought of Sabina. “The little one has a good sense of her own worth even now. Yet I do know that you would do what you must to protect her were it otherwise.”
Tristan did not deny this, and Lily went on. “Can you not see that I do this of my own will, Tristan? You say that I am controlled by my father and mother, yet you wish me to allow you to control me.”
“That is not true.”
She shook her head. “It is true.” She looked away. “There is one thing that I am grateful to you for. In bringing me here you have given me the opportunity to begin to think for myself. When I no longer had my parents to tell me what I was, while at the same time being forced to question all you said, I began to see who I really am.” She turned back to him, her gaze full of entreaty. “Can you not accept that I have made a decision that I feel is best for everyone? Even if it proves a mistake, it will be one that I have made.”
He raked a hand through his thick dark hair. “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself in the process?”
She answered simply, “Aye, if that is the price for making my own decisions.”
Tristan shook his head in obvious frustration.
Lily sighed, realizing that she was getting nowhere. “I have written the letter to my father. Would you have it sent for me?”
He put his hands on his lean hips, his jaw set. “So be it then, Lily, if that is what you desire. I will send a servant to collect and take it this very afternoon.”
He paused, then went on, his handsome face as hard as stone. “I also have something more to say. I am glad that Genevieve has determined the truth. I cared not for keeping it from those I love, but for your sake, I will attempt to keep others from knowing any more than they already do.”
Lily cringed inside. She had known that Tristan did not love her as Genevieve suggested; yet it hurt to have him say it, especially after what they had just done together. Even if the woman he did love was the one he was going to marry.
Genevieve had told her that she and Tristan were not in love, that his heart had been given. Obviously he had found it again, and for Genevieve’s sake Lily was glad.
This driving, overwhelming passion she and Tristan felt for one another was wrong and only a reflection of what they had obviously once shared. With her gone, Tristan would no longer be confused. He and Genevieve could make a future built on the love he bore her.
Lily held her head high. “I thank you for that. I understand your feelings about Genevieve—and about your brothers, having seen how close you are to them. I realize now that, with them, there is no point in keeping up the pretext that I am a servant. I would feel more the fool knowing they were aware that I played a part. I do not think I can continue to do so. I ask simply that we do not tell them who my family is. It can gain us nothing.”
He nodded. “I agree to keep your true identity secret, if that is your wish, though we will no longer hide the fact that you are Sabina’s mother from my family. Except, that is, from Sabina.”
Lily’s heart twisted. Of course, it made sense that they would continue to keep the truth from the child. Lily loved her enough to want to protect her from any hint of sorrow, and learning that Lily was her natural mother could do her naught but ill.
Allowing herself to think anything else would only bring grief to them all. But Lily could not form the words to say so around the aching lump in her throat. She could do no more than nod in acquiescence.
Tristan bowed briefly in formal thanks. Then he reached down and picked up her clothing from where he had tossed it beside the bed. Lily took it in a trembling hand. When he turned his back, she was grateful for his consideration, yet she drew the garments on with difficulty.
Though neither one of them said the words, the fact that there could be no more intimacy between them was clear. She was glad that he did not look around when she was done, and she left the room without speaking another word.
They had each made themselves clear. There was nothing more to be said.
* * *
Tristan watched Genevieve as she looked up from pouring drops of sweet oil into the vat of tallow that hung over the low fire. Several other women readied the wicks and other items that would be used in making candles. As was always the case when a meal was not in process or preparation, the rest of the kitchen was in fine order. The many cooking pots and utensils hung on their hooks along the wall. The counters were scrubbed clean, the linens put away. He knew Genevieve was responsible for this.
There was a sweet compassion in her expression when she saw Tristan, which surprised and awed him, knowing as he did that she was aware of Lily being Sabina’s mother. He felt his heart twist with sadness.
Why could he not have loved this woman? She was everything that a man could want in a wife.
But she could not be the one thing he seemed unable to do without: Lily.
He was called back to reality by Genevieve’s voice. “Tristan, you wished to see me?”
He replied in as easy a manner as was possible considering the circumstances, considering the fact that he had just come from making love to Lily. “Yes, if you are not too busy.”
She shook her head. “I am never too busy to speak to you.” She handed the tiny flask of fragrant oil to one of the other women.
She smiled again as she came toward him. “Shall I have one of the servants fetch my cloak? We can go for a walk. I would love to get some fresh air.”
Tristan nodded. “Yes, that would be fine.”
Only a short time later they were walking along the battlements of the castle wall.
As soon as they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, Genevieve turned to him. “Am I presuming too much to think that you wish to talk to me about Lily?”
Tristan halted. “Genevieve—”
She interrupted him. “I am all right, Tristan. There is no need to make long explanations and apologies.”
“But I want—need—to ask your forgiveness.”
She looked at him with sympathy in her lovely green eyes. “For what? I knew that Lily was Sabina’s mother from that first day. I told you then that you had no ne
ed to reveal all to me.”
“But you do not understand why and how it happened that she came here.”
“That is true. Seeing her at Brackenmoore did surprise me no small amount, I can assure you. Before that I had simply assumed that the babe’s mother had died, as you had told us all. I was forced to realize that she was indeed very much alive and therefore had been at some other location. That made me think that the two of you must have had some kind of falling out. I further assumed that Lily’s circumstances had changed, that she had need of a home and you had offered one to her. She spoke of a fire…”
He scowled. “That is not entirely the case. It is true that Lily and I had not seen one another for some time. But it was not because we had a falling out, nor was there a fire.” He paused before going on. “I truly thought that Lily was dead, as I had told you all.”
Genevieve’s gaze became disbelieving and incredulous for the first time. “But how could that be, Tristan?”
Quickly he told her of the accident and Benedict’s rescue of himself and Sabina, his belief that Lily was dead. Tristan ended by adding, “I did not reveal her identity, as I did not wish for her family to learn of the babe’s survival, and attempt to take her from me.” He could feel the tension in himself at the very thought.
Genevieve’s horror mirrored his own. “Would they do such a thing? And why did she not come to you when she recovered from the accident, which she obviously has done?”
Tristan took a deep breath. “Lily awoke with no memory of what happened before the accident. She did not know me nor remember that she had a child.”
“But her family, how could they keep such a thing from her? Who are they, Tristan?”
He shook his head. “Lily has asked that I not reveal their identity, and I have said that I would not. At any rate, I am forced to agree that she is right to keep it secret.” He could hear the pain in his own voice and was not pleased.
Obviously, Genevieve had heard it, too. “I do not understand the need to keep this hidden, but I will try to do so. Yet there is another matter that I cannot ignore.” She held his gaze, her own searching. “Your relationship with Lily has not run its course. You still have feelings for her?”
Tristan looked away, but he would not lie to her. There had been far too much of that already. “Nothing that cannot be conquered.”
“I see.”
He faced her then, directly. “You must believe me, Genevieve. What was between us is done. Lily must return to her own home, her own…” He straightened. “There are those whom she does not want to know that she has ever been to Brackenmoore.”
Genevieve took a deep breath. “Is it possible for her to hide it?”
Tristan took her icy hands in his. “It is not only possible, it is imperative. Lily is the daughter of a nobleman, Genevieve.”
“Lily, a noblewoman.” She shook her head thoughtfully. “I should not be surprised by this news. She has such delicacy and refinement about her. I allowed myself to believe that she was very likely the daughter of some lesser knight or some such thing. You said yourself that she was gently reared. Then when Leena told Maeve that Lily had nearly said as much to her, I simply accepted it as truth.” She looked at him. “I see now that this was only wistfulness on my part.”
Her eyes opened wider then. “How can you let her go, knowing this? She is the mother of your child.”
He refused to acknowledge the hurt he felt at his next admission. “It is her own wish. Her father has arranged a marriage for her, and she is determined to go through with it in some misguided notion that she must do so in order to save her family from possible retribution from the crown.”
“But how?”
“Her father was an open supporter of King Henry. The man her father has chosen for her managed to keep his own support of Henry secret from Richard. He did this by way of acting the spy for Richard, thus having his own political position assured. The marriage is meant to show King Edward that her father’s loyalties have now changed.”
“How can she wish to marry this man? He sounds far too like Maxim Harcourt for my taste.” Her expression was openly disgusted.
Tristan’s lips tightened as he replied, “Does he not?”
At that moment Genevieve’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “Harcourt! Benedict said that he has been scouring the countryside searching for his bride. Dear God, Lily is that bride. She is to marry Maxim Harcourt?”
He nodded grimly at her too perceptive conclusion. What could he do now but ask her to keep this knowledge to herself? “I beg you, Genevieve, do not discuss this with anyone. I have given my pledge.”
Her eyes and voice were filled with anxiety as she answered, “I will not tell, but it is so wrong. Though she appears strong, Lily is also kind and gentle. Marriage to that man will likely destroy her.”
There was nothing he could say except, “It is by her own choice, Genevieve. She will not heed me in this. She would be married to him now if I had not seen her in an inn that night on my way to Molson. I…” He halted, but made himself go on, to tell the truth of what he had done no matter how difficult. “I saw her there with his men. Thinking that she had betrayed me not only by not telling me she lived but also by marrying another man, I went to her room that night and took her by force with me to Molson. When I realized that she did not in truth know me, that she had been told nothing but lies about her past, I realized that she had been robbed of all that had mattered to her. I knew it was wrong, but I told her she could come here, see if being with Sabina would help her to remember.”
His brow knit. “She has remembered precious little, though even that small amount has convinced her that I speak the truth. Yet it has changed nothing. She is willing to give up all to help her family, to whom she believes she owes a great debt for their care of her when she was ill. She somehow thinks that she was not a proper daughter to them before or she would never have disobeyed them to be with me.” He had to stop for a moment as emotion rose up to block his throat. When he went on, he heard the tightness in his voice, the note of despair. “She feels that she must help them in order to make up for all the trouble she has wrought in seeing me against their will. Even if it means marrying Maxim Harcourt, whom she has managed to convince herself is merely misunderstood.”
Tristan faced Genevieve, knowing he had given away more than he had ever meant to. Even hearing all this, it was clear that she was attempting to give him the benefit of the doubt when she said, “Dear heaven, Tristan, you must have been beside yourself all this time, keeping so much inside.”
He could stand it no more, knowing that there was so much more that he had not said. “How can you be so kind? Have you no anger, no resentment for what I have done to you?”
She looked at him directly. “How can I judge you? You are as my brother. Your pain in this matter is so real it can almost be touched. I know you did not want to hurt me. You loved Lily before I asked you to wed me.” She glanced away, then took a deep breath before meeting his gaze once more, her green eyes filled with determination. “When I asked you to marry me, I did not believe that our union would cost either of us. Now I know that it would.”
He stared at her, aghast, her words seeming to suggest something that he did not want them to. “You cannot mean that you wish to release me from my promise. Have you not heard me? Lily is going away. I do not wish for this situation, my own foolish mistakes to destroy your life.”
She smiled. “You have not destroyed my life. I am making a choice for my own sake. I could accept a man who loved a dead woman. I do not wish to take second place to one who is very much alive and loved no matter how unavailable.”
Tristan felt as if he had been hit in the chest. Not only had he devastated his own life, he knew in spite of what she said to reassure him that he had ruined her plans for the future.
Yet on another level, he was aware that she was right about one thing. He now realized, after talking to Genevieve like this, that his feelings for Lily
went far deeper than he had even imagined. He could no longer deny it. He loved her with an intensity that was frightening. The thought of not seeing her, not hearing her voice, knowing that Sabina would never know her, left him empty and cold. He held out his hands in supplication. “Forgive me. I never meant to cause anyone hurt, least of all you, Genevieve.”
She took his hands in hers. “Tristan, you have not hurt me. You have more likely helped me to find my senses. You owe me nothing, and I need not settle for one who cannot love me truly.”
She paused, then went on. “There is just one thing I would ask of you, Tristan.”
He shrugged. “Anything that is within my power to grant. I owe you that.”
She shook her head, but said only, “I would ask that you do not tell anyone of our canceled engagement until Lily has left Brackenmoore. She is a good woman, Tristan, has tried only to find herself in all of this. I would not have her take all the guilt of our parting with her as well as the other pain she will carry.”
Again, Tristan found himself wishing he could love Genevieve. She was too generous, even now. He spoke harshly, disgusted with himself. “I will keep my own counsel on this until you give me leave to do otherwise. And should you change your mind, I will marry you and gladly.”
She smiled sadly. “I will not change my mind.”
Tristan nodded. “So be it then. I will never again ask for your forgiveness in any of this, Genevieve, for I do not deserve it.”
She squeezed his hands. “In time, Tristan…”
He wrenched his hands from hers and strode away from her sympathy. There was no repairing what he had done.
Madly, foolishly, unthinkingly, he had allowed himself to love Lily—all over again. And not just for the girl she had been, but for the honorable, brave woman she was now, the woman who would toss away her own life to care for others.
Later that afternoon Lily took Sabina out into the courtyard to play, even though the child had wanted to venture farther afield. There was a very sharp chill in the air, and Lily had not forgotten the little one’s recent illness.
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