Missing Lily

by Annette K. Larsen

  I tried my best to hide my panicked breathing. “The arrangement for Lorraina is with Lord Fallon?” I knew it was, but I hoped that just maybe I was horribly mistaken.

  “It is.” He turned to me, looking triumphant. “Your sister will be married next year.”

  “Why did you not mention it after I met him?”

  “I could not share the news with you before we told Lorraina. Do you approve?”

  I could tell by the look on his face and the way he asked me that he expected me to be something akin to ecstatic about the arrangement. I looked down, trying to formulate a truthful response, but one that wouldn’t give away my devastation. “Lord Fallon is a most deserving gentleman. I can think of none better.”

  He looked away, his chest swelling with pride. “His father was a great friend. I miss him dearly.”

  I had to escape. “If you’ll excuse me, Father. I really don’t feel well.”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  I turned and nearly ran up to my chamber. I slammed my door behind me, pushing both hands into the wood, my arms straight, my feet braced against the floor, as if it needed to be held closed by force. My head hung limp between my stiff arms as I breathed heavily—out of breath from my flight up the stairs, short of breath because of the tumult rolling through my chest.

  The fact that Rhys was betrothed was not news. I had already known that. But to Lorraina? Lorraina?

  It made sense, with our fathers being so close, yet the reality of it, the reality of seeing Rhys with Lorraina...I choked on the thought, squeezing out several tears that fell straight to the floor.

  I forced myself to take a deep breath, to stand up straight. I had never deluded myself into thinking that I could have any sort of relationship with Rhys. No doubt this would be far more trying than if I had simply never seen him again, but the ending was the same. He would be married and I would be alone. Shoving my emotion down, I walked over to my writing table, snatched up the letter that had been sitting there for weeks, and tore it to shreds before casting the pieces to the floor. An explanatory letter was useless now. However, there was still need for thanks, so I sat down and penned my gratitude while leaving out the introduction. He would receive my thanks and that would be the end of it.

  I managed to finish the letter despite my shaking hands and refused to read it over, knowing I would throw it out if I gave myself the chance. Instead I folded it and laid it on my desk before summoning Missy. She brought me a plate of food that I picked at while she spent more time on my hair than usual. After changing into my formal attire, I dismissed her and retrieved the letter from my desk.

  Having no idea if I would ever see him alone, I decided to hide my letter beneath the wide sash around my waist. My body was straight, lacking in curves, and the sash helped to define my waist. I stood before my looking glass, smoothing my sash over the letter to be sure it would not be noticed.

  I took one quick fortifying breath and left my room. Walking down the grand staircase, my father’s voice floated up as Lorraina, Rhys, and my parents entered my view. They turned toward a private sitting room, used only to entertain the most intimate guests.

  Only Rhys looked up. His eyes met mine and his expression changed from polite interest to something much more real. The moment stretched as he held my gaze. He tried to smile, but his eyes were so sad that not even a speck of joy leaked through. I tried to give an encouraging smile in return but failed as well. He turned away and followed my father into the room.

  I stood still for only a second more before forcing my feet to continue down the stairs and cross the same threshold.

  My father looked up at my entrance and smiled. “Ah, Lylin. Are you feeling better, then?” My cheeks warmed and I hoped that Rhys would not guess that my discomfort was caused by him.

  “Yes, thank you, Father.”

  He offered me his arm and led me to a chair, which I happily sank into. I ended up situated nearest to my mother and farthest from Lord Fallon. Raina sat stiff and formal, the picture of calm. How could she be so calm?

  My eyes went to Rhys and I drank in the sight of him, my eyes skimming over his dark hair and stubbled chin. Only then did I realize how much I had missed him. How much I would always miss him.

  “Your visit will be a long one, correct?”

  My father’s question pulled me from my blatant perusal of our guest.

  Rhys hesitated. “That was my original plan, but—”

  “Excellent,” my father cut him off. “You must stay at least a month.”

  “It would be an honor.” Rhys’s words were more than polite, but they sounded forced.

  I tried to listen to the rest of the conversation, but I only caught pieces here and there through my distraction. I kept reminding myself to smile and managed to make it through the evening without crumbling to pieces.

  I left our little party first. The prospect of awkward goodnights was not at all appealing.

  I wandered out to the stables, seeking a distraction, and discovered that Rhys’s magnificent black stallion had made the trip with him. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face, feeling an unexplained fondness for the beast.

  “Princess, what brings you to the stables this evening?”

  Weston approach from the tack room, working a piece of leather in his hands.

  “I just came to say hello to the horses.”

  Weston’s brow rose. I had never before come to simply visit the horses, and he noted the oddity but did not comment. “Well, just take care around that stallion there.” He gestured to Rhys’s mount. “That fellow isn’t certain he’d like to stay.” I smiled as Weston bowed and then ambled away. I turned back to the stallion. The poor beast had probably just gotten used to being in the Fallon stables before being whisked off to stay here.

  I approached him slowly, not at all sure he would recognize me, and even less sure that it would make a difference if he did. As I drew closer he snorted and pawed at the ground, but he seemed more impatient than aggressive. I reached toward him and he stuck his nose in my hand, anxious for attention. I petted him for several minutes before I felt someone behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see Weston. Instead Rhys stood there, looking at me, his jaw stiff, his eyes sad. Somehow his presence didn’t surprise me, but I could only return his gaze, having no clue what to say.

  The horse shook his head, trying to regain my attention. I broke eye contact with Rhys and continued stroking the stallion.

  The stallion whose name I still didn’t know.

  “Does he have a proper name yet?” My voice sounded almost normal.

  Rhys quietly cleared his throat. “I started teasingly calling him Joe, and now he won’t respond to anything else.”

  A very unladylike laugh sputtered past my lips and I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my hysterical giggles. I leaned against Joe’s neck, lamenting, “You poor animal. I’m sorry you ended up with such an unworthy name.”

  “You’re the one that started calling him that,” he defended, the strain gone from his voice.

  “You did not have to go along with my ridiculous suggestion. If you wanted me to call him something else, then you should have named him properly.” I realized too late that I was watching him and smiling in the familiar way that he and I had grown accustomed to during my stay. I looked away. Our familiarity was inappropriate. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and saw him sink inward as he no doubt came to the same realization. His body appeared broken, slumped to the side, with most of his weight on one foot. That lighthearted moment had allowed me to breathe, but now it was gone.

  I considered pulling out my letter, but decided to try to verbalize my thanks. I took a quick breath, stumbling into an explanation.

  “I never had a chance to properly thank you for everything you did for me.” He stood, his body slack and still as I tried not to admire his taut shoulders and sturdy physique. “I’m exceedingly grateful. And I w
anted to apologize for leaving so abruptly, for leaving without telling you. I didn’t want to make things more complicated. And since I had to leave I thought that…” I trailed off, suddenly unwilling to go on.

  He gave a weary sigh. “As I said before, Princess, it was an honor. You know very well, I cannot fault you for any of your decisions. I’m sure you did what you thought was best.”

  His words ripped through me. The tone of his words ripped through me. He spoke in civil niceties, but his words held an obvious bite. He was angry and I wished he would just say so. I wished he would speak his mind as he had when I’d resided under his roof. His biting civility made me want to lash out at him, but I knew it would accomplish nothing. He owed me nothing. I owed him nothing. There was nothing to say. We could not go back—no matter how much I may have wanted it—to the relationship we had when I was Lily.

  Because I was not Lily.

  I opened my mouth, trying and failing to speak several times before I succeeded. “Why are you angry?”

  He huffed. “I’m not.”

  “Really? And what have I done to make you not angry?” I looked directly at him while he avoided my gaze.

  He let silence settle for a moment before asking, “Why lie about your name? Why the deceit?” He was openly angry now and it made me step back. This man was the only one who knew everything that I had gone through. He had found me and taken care of me. He had seen me when I was broken. His accusation ruptured the dam holding me together.

  “I did not know what to do!” I hated the tears that leaked into my voice. “I had lost my escort, been chased into the night by a horseman, and wandered for an eternity before coming upon your home. I was scared out of my wits, doing all that I could to protect myself. I was not trying to be deceitful.”

  He pushed his fingers across his mouth in agitation, then shook his head, jaw clenched. “I know.” He sighed. “That’s the horrible part. I know.” His anger was still apparent, but it seemed directed at himself now. “I know I cannot blame you for this. I know it’s not your fault. I understand it all. Logically, I understand it all; I accept it all. Logically.” He seemed to be trying to say more than he could say, but I couldn’t make sense of it. When he spoke again, the fiery anger was gone, replaced by something much more fragile. “But I cared a great deal for Lily, for that little girl who I found huddled in my stables.” He looked at my face as we both remembered that moment. “And I’m finding it difficult to accept that she does not exist.”

  I took a shallow breath. “I’m the same person.”

  “No. You’re not.” His voice was flat.

  I tried to figure out what exactly he meant by that. Perhaps he didn’t like me now that he knew who I was. Perhaps he couldn’t forgive the lie. Perhaps my identity tainted the feelings he had for Lily and made them something painful. It didn’t really matter which he had meant, because none of them took away the sharp pain his statement had caused.

  Words failed me and I only wanted escape. My hands dug in the folds of my sash, pulling out the letter hidden there. I shoved it into his hands and left without a word or a backward glance.

  I went to my room and couldn’t help being pulled to my desk. Another letter took shape beneath my shaking hands.

  Rhys,

  You’re here. You’re here, in my home.

  And you are marrying my sister.

  I want it to be me. It should be me.

  Lylin

  I stared at the letter—the confession finally put to paper—my soul scrawled across the page. Then I picked it up and put the corner into the flame of the candle on my desk. I let it burn almost to my fingers before dropping it in the large bowl sitting beside a pitcher of water. When it had smoldered to nothing, I summoned Missy, had her help me out of my gown, and asked her to take the bowl away.

  ***

  I opened my eyes the next morning and for one moment, or probably only a portion of a moment, I was at peace.

  And then I remembered.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my circumstances to go away for just a few moments more. But it was useless. I would dress for the day and walk downstairs and I would watch as Lorraina became better acquainted with Rhys. Lord Fallon.

  I stood outside the breakfast room door for quite a while, forcing myself to breathe and smoothing my skirts for the hundredth time before finally walking in.

  It was worse than I had anticipated. Instead of encountering Lord Fallon and my sister having a cozy breakfast, I encountered Lord Fallon. By himself.

  “Forgive me,” I said, stuttering to a halt when he hastily rose to his feet. “I was looking for my mother.” A blatant lie.

  “Your sister had need of her. I believe they are upstairs.”

  “Ah.” I was about to turn and go, but he spoke first.

  “You haven’t eaten yet. Come, sit down.”

  It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t exactly a request either. I had no excuse to leave and no wish to be rude, so I pulled my feet from the floor and moved to sit across from him. A steward assisted me with my chair, and Rhys remained standing until I had been seated. For all his claims of not being a socialite, his manners were impeccable.

  My meal was placed before me and as I picked up a spoon, I realized my hand was shaking. I put it down and moved my hand to my lap, hoping to hide my disquiet. Unfortunately, without eating, I had no choice but to speak with Rhys.

  I said the first polite thing that came to mind. “You slept well, I hope.” I managed to look at him as I asked and saw him suppress a smile before he answered.

  “Very well, thank you.”

  I tried to keep eye contact but couldn’t, so I reached for my spoon again.

  “I fear I owe you an apology.”

  His assertion caught me off guard, stopping my hand before it obtained its objective. “For what?”

  “I believe I offended you last evening.”

  My gaze dropped. He had offended me.

  “I do understand that you had your reasons for not identifying yourself. I saw, first hand, how frightened you were when you came to me. I certainly can’t blame you for protecting yourself in whatever way you felt was necessary.”

  I stared at him, my lips pressed together, my right thumb kneading the palm of my left hand. I was warmed by his understanding, but didn’t know how to respond to it.

  “Last night, I was...surprised. And I’m afraid my shock made my manners lacking. I implied that I did not respect you as Lylin in the same way I respected you as Lily, and for that, I most heartily apologize.”

  I cleared the emotion from my throat before saying quietly, “Apology accepted.”

  He smiled with his mouth, but not with his eyes, and thanked me. I tried to cast about for some safe topic to broach, but was spared that necessity when my mother and Lorraina entered. Rhys stood, bowing to my mother and then to Lorraina as they sank gracefully into their seats.

  I nodded at each in turn and finally picked up my spoon with a steady hand. He was horribly polite throughout the meal. He said everything he should have, smiled at all the right moments, and offered a gallant arm to Lorraina to escort her from the room when they were all finished.

  I was left alone at the table and looked down to find my food untouched. Dropping my spoon, I pushed away from the table, not bothering to wait for a steward to assist me, and fled to my room.

  Dear Rhys,

  I want to scream at you sometimes. I want to demand that you stop being so nice to me, beg you to ignore me. Don’t you know that your kindness makes everything worse?

  It breaks my heart every time you smile at her, but it hurts almost as much when you smile at me.

  So I guess the only thing I could really ask of you would be: Go home—away from Lorraina—away from me. Go home.

  Lylin

  Over the next several days, I suffered a slow torture every time I found myself in Rhys’s presence—my heart and soul being meticulously picked apart with every look he gave me, every
breath he took.

  I had prepared myself to forget about him, to have him forget me as we both went about our lives. Instead he was always there, hauntingly close, but entirely out of reach. I was the intimate witness of his courting my sister—slow, steady torture.

  I managed to maintain my sanity by keeping up a steady stream of letters to Rhys, all of which ended up at the bottom of the box that sat on my desk. I confessed everything in those letters, holding nothing back, while in his presence I maintained the appearance of calm—for the most part. Some days were harder than others.

  An outing was scheduled for all of us—Mother, Father, Lorraina, Rhys and myself. We were to go horseback riding, and I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.

  When something came up that detained my parents, I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that I might be able to escape the outing altogether.

  My relief was short-lived.

  “Couldn’t we still go?” Lorraina asked, obviously disappointed.

  “Well,” my mother considered, “I suppose there is no reason for you not to go.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “In fact, you young people will probably enjoy yourselves more without us.” Mother smiled, her eyes gleaming, and I just stood frozen, trying not to look as horrified as I felt. “Martin,” she summoned a footman. “Please inform the guard of our change in plans.” The footman left with a click of his heels. “Now that that’s decided, why don’t you girls get ready. You should depart within the hour.”

  Lorraina turned to do just that and my mother went about her business while I stood, stuck, for several moments before I could move.

  I changed into my riding clothes with numb fingers, not even noticing when Missy came in to help me. As I descended the stairs, Rhys stood waiting in the entry. His eyes lit up when he saw me and I had to look away. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I was forced to meet his eyes as we greeted one another.