by Carla Kelly
‘How can I forget it when I can’t escape it?’
‘You could if you truly wanted to, but instead you’ve hidden yourself away here, imagining your troubles to be much greater than they really are.’
‘How dare you.’ She marched off around the corner of the house and out of view of the upper windows.
Gregor followed, quickly closing the distance between them before he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. She landed against his chest, clutching his upper arms to steady herself. Her breath caressing his neck above his cravat nearly startled the words from him, but they didn’t abandon him completely. They were driven out of him by the anger welling up from deep inside him, fuelled by France, his parents and his own failings. ‘You think you know suffering, but you don’t. It isn’t rumours or people staring, it a field full of shattered men bleeding and dying, your friends alive one moment, then ripped from your side by a cannonball the next. It’s lying in an abandoned barn for three days with your leg bleeding, passing in and out of consciousness, your tongue swollen with thirst while you watch the sun set, wondering if it will be the last time you see daylight.’
He shifted closer, his chest brushing against her as she listened. The care he’d craved from her only half an hour before filled her eyes and tore at him the way the musket ball had torn through his leg.
‘I’m sorry, Gregor, I didn’t know,’ she whispered, reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead.
Tears for him glittered in the corners of her eyes, but with the cries of his men and the cannon fire echoing in his ears, he couldn’t accept her sympathy. ‘How could you? You talk of my faults, but what of yours? You hide here, afraid to be embarrassed by me, your family, yourself, looking for the worst in others because of how it might reflect on you.’
This time she didn’t object to his words, but lowered her head and sagged a touch in his arms. He’d humbled her as much as France and his father had once humbled him, and he hated himself for it.
Sliding a finger beneath her chin, he raised her face to his. ‘You were brave once, approaching me when you thought I needed a friend, despite my family name and rank. Be that brave woman again, Lily, and you’ll stun yourself and everyone.’
* * *
Lily stared into Gregor’s green eyes. He was right. She’d lived for so long in fear of being embarrassed she hadn’t really lived at all. Yes, the ball four years ago was unfortunate and he’d made a mistake, but the time afterwards was her mistake, not his. He’d learned to battle on in spite of the heartlessness of his family and in the face of his horrors in France. Instead of picking herself up and carrying on with the fortitude of a Rutherford, she’d hidden herself away, more ashamed than proud of her family and herself. While she’d imagined herself wronged, Gregor had suffered real tragedies, ones she couldn’t fathom. Then, when he’d come to her for understanding, she’d scorned him, too blinded by her own slight troubles to see his.
She wasn’t worthy of his friendship. She deserved to be alone.
She let go of his arms and stepped back. He didn’t cling to her, but opened his fingers and let her go. Whatever had passed between them last night was gone now. She’d killed it with her fears and accusations. It was as terrible a misstep as the one she’d made with him at the wedding ball.
Snow crunched beneath her boots as she fled off towards the garden, rounding the house to make for the greenhouse standing alone at the end of the flower beds. She slipped inside, the moist heat stifling after the dry cold. She wasn’t ready to return to the house to humour Aunt Alice or be pestered by Daisy or the twins, or, heaven forbid, Petunia.
She paced the length of floor, avoiding the small puddles sitting in the narrow spaces between the stones. Neither the blooming plants nor their scent brought her any pleasure. All she could focus on were the red poinsettias and the image of Gregor standing across the bright leaves from her, trying and failing to tell her of France and to apologise. He’d been so open and honest with her, and this time it was she who’d refused to acknowledge him. In her grudge, she’d failed to see the wonderful man he’d become and had thrown away any chance they might ever be real friends, or possibly more.
The door swung open and Laurus entered with a cold draught. ‘What are you doing in here? Father is looking for you. He needs you to oversee the decorations for the ball.’
She moved one poinsettia so its pot was in line with the one beside it. ‘I needed some time away from all the noise, a chance to be alone before all our guests arrive.’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘What makes you think there’s anything wrong?’ Lily straightened her shoulders, trying to conjure up an air of indifference and failing.
‘Because you were lit up like the Yule log last night with Marbrook and today you look as dour as if it were Ash Wednesday.’
Lily shifted on her feet, trying to think of some flippant response to send him away, but instead she sank down on to the bench beneath the window and buried her face in her hands. ‘I’ve made a mess of things with Gregor.’
‘Gregor?’
She looked up as her brother approached with one eyebrow arched with interest.
‘I mean Lord Marbrook,’ Lily nervously corrected. ‘Do you know the real reason he wanted to come here for Christmas?’
‘I do.’ Laurus sat down beside her. ‘He told me when he asked if he could join us.’
‘Then you knew he’d come here to apologise to me?’
‘I did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let him come. He might be my friend, but I remember what happened. It’s why I haven’t brought him around before.’ He gently pressed against her with humour. ‘Some of us in this family do have a regard for your feelings.’
She wished she had as much regard for the feelings of others, especially Gregor. ‘Did he tell you what happened to him in France?’
Laurus shrugged. ‘He said he was shot and spent some time in the hospital there, but nothing more.’
‘He told me what happened and it was awful.’ So was the way she’d treated him today. Just as she’d sensed his suffering four years ago, she should have guessed it yesterday and let it and not her own fears guide her.
‘I think it’s good Marbrook trusted you with such a thing.’
Lily shook her head. ‘He didn’t tell me out of trust but anger. He flung it at me as if it was the greatest insult he could imagine and it was because of how I’d insulted him.’
She explained to her brother the aspersions she’d cast on Gregor. ‘He came here to make amends and I made a muddle of it. It would have been better if you’d refused his request to come.’
‘I’m glad I didn’t, dear sister, because I can see he has as deep a regard for you as you do for him.’
‘We hardly know one another.’ And what she’d learned of him she’d tossed aside because of her own fears.
‘Look at Mother and Father. They barely knew one another before they married, yet two people couldn’t be more perfectly matched.’
It was true, but at the present, Lily wasn’t as trusting in providence as her parents. ‘Petunia doesn’t think Lord Marbrook and I are suited.’
‘Petunia thinks too much of herself, while Rose thinks too well of everyone. Daisy doesn’t act as she should, Mother and Father are too involved in their plants to check her. I take nothing seriously while you take everything much too seriously. It’s part of your charm.’ He cuffed her under the chin and she knocked his hand away.
‘Try to be serious, Laurus. What am I going to do? He surely hates me now.’
‘There you go, imagining the worst again.’ Laurus knelt down in front of her. ‘After coming all this way to see you, after four years of thinking about you when he might have easily forgotten you, I don’t think he’ll be so easily put off by this misunderstanding.’
�
��I’m not so sure.’ She wanted to believe him, but whatever image of her Gregor had held on to in France, she’d surely shattered it with her aspersions today.
‘Then it might be time to swallow your pride and find out. Apologise to him like he did to you.’
It couldn’t be so simple. ‘I don’t think it will make a difference.’
‘There’s only one way to find out. Now come inside and get ready for the ball.’ He rose, taking her hand and pulling her up with him, something of the Lord of Misrule coming into his face. ‘You’ll see there’s Christmas magic to be worked yet.’
Chapter Five
A multitude of guests crowded the ballroom, their jewels and bright silks glittering with the many candles set in nearly every candlestick and candelabrum the Rutherfords owned. A small group of musicians from the village sat at the far end of the long room, their violins and flutes playing a lively tune to accompany the dancers going up and down in rows in the centre. Every family in the county was here, for there were very few who wanted to miss the Rutherford Christmas ball. Green garlands were draped in arches along the walls, rising to grace the tops of the windows before dropping back down between them. The last one had been hung by the servants under Lily’s direction less than an hour ago. Through the windows, the falling snowflakes caught the light and began to pile up in the corners of the sills. To the pleasure of all, it hadn’t started snowing until almost every guest had arrived.
A magnificent selection of treats was spread out on the table at the opposite end of the room from the musicians. The older people stood around them, enjoying Sir Timothy’s hearty rum punch while the dowagers and aged wives nibbled at the delicate mincemeat pies. The younger people had no interest in the sweets or drinks, but only the endless reels sending the gentlemen in black coats and breeches and the ladies in deep green or red dresses up and down the dance floor in time to the clapping of their fellow dancers.
Lily didn’t dance tonight, or share in the festivities. She stood near the refreshment table, at the back of a crowd of older folks, forgotten by both them and everyone enjoying the merriment. Across the dance floor, near the wall on the opposite side of the room, Lord Marbrook stood just as removed from the merry society as her. The many preparations for the ball had kept Lily occupied through the entire afternoon, leaving no time for her to seek Gregor out or to speak to him about this morning, though Lily wasn’t sure if she should regret the lack of opportunity or be glad for it.
On the dance floor, Laurus made a sweeping turn with Sir Walter’s granddaughter, catching Lily’s attention as he moved. With a jerk of his head in the direction of Gregor, he silently encouraged her to cross the divide, but she couldn’t. It was one thing to risk his rejection in the privacy of the house, amongst family. It was quite another to do so in public where more than one person was regarding both of them with curiosity, making it clear they hadn’t forgotten the wedding ball any more than either Lily or Gregor.
Lily cursed her lack of resolve, realising Lord Marbrook was right about her. She wasn’t the brave girl he remembered, just a self-absorbed spinster determined to hang on to the past. She loathed to think of him leaving Helkirk Place with such a low impression of her, but she didn’t know how to begin to rectify her mistakes.
The dancers parted, opening up a space between Lily and Gregor. He stared at her, more sadness than distaste in his hooded eyes. Then at once something he’d said at dinner last night came rushing back.
I don’t know where else to start. I’ve regretted what I did from the moment my father escorted me from the ball.
He hadn’t known where to begin with his apology any more than she did, but at least he’d possessed the courage to make it. The couples came back together with the music, blocking him from her view.
‘Miss Rutherford, what are you doing hiding here, you should be on the dance floor impressing us with your accomplished dancing skills,’ Sir Walter called out as he came down the refreshment table towards her, his breeches making his sticklike legs even leaner. ‘I’m sure Lord Marbrook would love to see your graceful steps again.’
Lily braced herself as the old man’s white hair bobbed around his ears as he laughed, quite pleased with himself and his tiresome joke.
‘Oh, be quiet, Sir Walter, no one wants to hear that rusty old barb any more,’ Aunt Alice said sharply, wiping the smile from his face as she came to stand beside Lily.
Sir Walter set down his punch on the table, indignantly fluffed the lace of his stained cravat, then shuffled away.
‘Thank you, Aunt Alice, for putting an end to his ribbing.’
‘It’s about time someone in this family did.’ She held Toddy in one hand against her ample side and restrained Pygmalion on a leash with the other. The dog strained at the length of ribbon, eager to get away and do who knew what damage. ‘Now, girl, what are you doing here instead of dancing with your young man?’
‘He isn’t my young man,’ Lily corrected, trying to keep her voice steady so as not to reveal any of the turmoil plaguing her. ‘He’s Laurus’s friend.’
‘And I’m the Queen of France. Don’t think I didn’t see you two last night plucking the last berry from the mistletoe.’ Lily gaped at her aunt, who remained unruffled. ‘Now you two are standing across the room as if you don’t know each other. Come and I’ll reintroduce you and get things off on the right foot again.’
‘No, I don’t need any assistance with Lord Marbrook.’ She caught her aunt’s arm before she could set off. ‘Besides, even if I did approach him, he isn’t likely to take too kindly to me tonight.’
‘You won’t know unless you speak to him. Believe me when I say, my dear, you must take a risk or two if you don’t want to find yourself one day with nothing but your wealth and a pack of dogs who don’t even appreciate you.’
She jerked Pygmalion’s leash and pulled him back to her side.
‘I appreciate you, Aunt Alice.’ Lily dropped a kiss on her aunt’s wrinkled cheek. ‘I appreciate all of my family.’
It was then Lily noticed the other Rutherfords watching her from different places around the room. Rose and Edgar, Petunia and Charles stood in a group near the large fireplace, casting more than one concerned glance her way. Even Mother and Father, gathered with their botanist friends, kept turning to take her in as did Laurus, despite his being cornered by one country girl after another. Gregor was right; they loved her. Despite their faults and silly ways, she loved them. They were her family and they cared about her. She’d been wrong to think they didn’t.
Aunt Alice patted Lily’s hand. ‘But you need a family and a house of your own, dear.’
‘Such a thing isn’t likely to happen with Lord Marbrook.’
‘It won’t if you keep lingering here like some wallflower. Be brave, girl, and go to him. He looks like the devil and needs a little Christmas cheer. After all, what are you afraid of? Tripping and falling in front of him again?’ Aunt Alice elbowed her in the side.
‘Your tact is extraordinary,’ Lily chided, more amused than upset.
Aunt Alice rubbed Toddy’s back, unaware of the dog fur clinging to her black glove. ‘You’ll find, dear, when you reach my age, you care little for what people think.’
Lily stared at Lord Marbrook, a new determination welling inside her. It was time to face him and her past and conquer them both.
She wrapped her arms around her aunt’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘I think I’ve reached such a realisation much sooner.’
‘Good, then be off with you, otherwise I might never get Pygmalion back.’ Aunt Alice gave her a wink and a playful push in Gregor’s direction.
Lily strode off, following the perimeter of the dance floor, her heart pounding in her chest like the feet of the dancers against the floor. She was about to take another chance with Lord Marbrook, not in the late-night darkness of the hall,
but here in the ballroom for all to see. Whatever happened next, it would be discussed for ages amongst everyone who saw it. Whether the results were good or bad, it didn’t matter. Lily was tired of worrying about their opinions, of not living her life because she was afraid of what others might say or think. Tonight she would be brave and take a chance.
Rounding the floor, she made for the wall some distance from him, sliding up to him so he didn’t notice her until at last she stepped in front of him.
‘Good evening, Gregor.’
His attention snapped to her, his eyes widening with surprise before settling into the reserved aloofness which had marked them all evening.
All around them the conversation stilled as people began to watch while trying to appear as though they weren’t. Let them see her, she no longer cared about their opinions, only Gregor’s.
‘Miss Rutherford.’ He bowed to her, his formal greeting nearly scaring away her confidence. He’d used her formal name, not her given one. Maybe he wasn’t waiting here for her to come to him, but hoping she wouldn’t, eager for the night and his visit to be over so he could hurry home and forget this folly and the friendship he’d once wanted.
Whispers began to wick through the crowd around her like the silk dresses of the young ladies twirling on the dance floor. Lily moved one foot behind her, ready to flee before she pulled it back and fixed it beside the other one, then stood up straight. ‘I’m sorry for this morning and the things I said. I treated poorly someone who deserved my kindness.’
His eyebrow rose a touch as he recognised his own words repeated back to him. He said nothing, lacing his fingers behind his back as he continued to regard her with a lack of expression meant to conceal from her whatever he thought of this exchange.
Lily wavered on her feet, worry rising like the applause from the dancers as the music drew to an end. ‘I don’t know if my apology is sufficient to make amends for my mistake, but I don’t know what else to do.’
