Little White Lies

by Sara Ackerman

  He laughed and finished bridling Magnus. “But of course, my dear. How foolish of me to suggest it.”

  Amelia narrowed her eyes at his playful goading and plotted a tease of her own, one that was sure to prick his manly ego.

  She followed him into the next stall, where he was gathering her horse’s tack, and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. “Then when you run to me in a panic because you have found some gray streaking your temples, you want me to say it’s merely a trick of the light?”

  “I don’t have gray hair yet.” He dropped the saddle onto her horse’s back before bending over to peer at his reflection in the silver stirrups, running his fingers through the thick dark hair at his temples.

  “Of course not, dear,” she said, giggling. “What was I thinking?” As his indignant expression turned to mock outrage, she backed away, lifting her skirts and fleeing the stall for the relative safety of the former one and the solid protection of Magnus’s furry body.

  Tavis followed her in hot pursuit and soon had her cornered. He gathered her into his arms and growled, pretending to bite the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulders while his nimble fingers launched a frontal attack to the tender flesh of her ribs. Helpless against his ticklish assault, she squealed and struggled to get away, bumping into Magnus in the process. The horse huffed and stomped his hooves, irritated by the commotion in the stall. Tavis, taking pity on the poor beast, grabbed his reins and led him out of the stables.

  Once both horses were outside, Tavis made some adjustments to their stirrups and turned to her. “You see what I mean? Too much honesty can lead to as many hurt feelings as not enough.”

  “You wish for us to lie to each other?” she asked, still puzzled by his plea for dishonesty.

  “Nay, Amelia,” he smiled, lifting her onto her saddle. “Not lie to each other. Just recognize when a little lie is more appropriate than a harsh truth.” With an ease born of practice, he mounted and spurred his horse into motion. She flicked the reins, and Legacy’s Daughter walked also, following the comfortable, easy pace Tavis set.

  “I will always want to protect you, Amelia,” he said, reaching over to grab one of her hands, “and if I know I can prevent causing you pain, I will do whatever it takes to see you safe and happy.”

  “I think I understand what you mean,” she said at last. “When Jeremy threatened to kill you, I would have said or done anything to keep you from harm. I lied because I loved you.”

  Still, worry gnawed at her, and questions tumbled inside her head. She had lived too long with the burden of honesty and didn’t know how to proceed without its familiar constraints. What if she couldn’t change? How would their marriage survive without absolute honesty? Her brow furrowed, and she blurted, “But what if—”

  He squeezed her hand, silencing her concerns with a swift kiss. “What if I said you were my heart and soul and I will love you forever?” he asked, his sapphire eyes brimming with fathomless devotion. “Would you believe me?”

  “Yes,” she said, her anxiety melting with that one declaration. “With all my heart.”

  “If you can believe that, Amelia, that’s the only truth we need. The rest will come.”

  Then, spurring his horse to a gallop, he raced ahead, and Amelia, not wanting to be left behind, flew after him, her copper curls streaming in ribbons of liquid gold behind her.

  Epilogue

  Six weeks later

  “What are you reading?”

  Amelia started at the unexpected sound of her husband’s voice and turned to find him standing just over her shoulder.

  “A letter from Mother. She writes to say she arrived safely in London and has decided to move in with her widowed sister.” Amelia’s brows furrowed, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth as she reread the last lines of the letter.

  Tavis joined her at her perch in the window seat of the library. “That’s good news, so why do you look so worried?”

  She waved her hands in front of her to dismiss his concern. “It’s nothing.” She smiled while tucking the paper into the folds of her skirt.

  “Your curse may be broken, my heart, but you will never make a good liar.” He reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss on it, lessening the sting of his words.

  Amelia grimaced and then sighed. “Mother writes that Evie has gone to visit our uncle in Surrey.”

  “That’s certainly nothing to worry about.”

  “Except Evie hates our uncle in Surrey.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Plus she hates Surrey even more than she does our uncle.”

  “Is your mother concerned?”

  “No, but she was upset that Evie didn’t even inform her betrothed before leaving Town.” Nibbling on her thumb, Amelia wondered why Evie had decided to leave home.

  “I’m sure there is a perfectly good explanation for her sudden absence, Amelia, and it’s nothing to concern yourself about.” He removed her hand from her mouth and tucked it into his own.

  She smiled brightly and said, “You’re right, Tavis. I’m just being silly.” But her smile must not have reached all the way to her eyes, for he asked, “Was there more?”

  “Only that Beatrice has left Town and no one knows quite where she went. Do you think something might have happened to her?”

  “Wherever Beatrice is, I am sure she is capable of taking care of herself,” Tavis comforted. “Besides, wasn’t she the one who taught you how to defend yourself?” She nodded. “Bea will be fine. Stop worrying so much, my heart.” Taking the letter from her lap, he set it aside and looked curiously at a small, wrapped parcel lying beside her on the window seat.

  “Did she send you a package, as well?” Tavis questioned as he took the package in hand.

  In her haste to read news from home, she had forgotten all about the present accompanying her mother’s letter. “Yes, she mentioned it in her letter. I just haven’t opened it yet.”

  Untying the string, she peeled back the wrapping to reveal a beautifully woven shawl. Her heart pounded, and she felt the blood rush from her face, leaving her lightheaded and suddenly ill. With trembling hands, she reached out to touch the fabric, only to pull her hand back sharply in fear. Because despite her mother’s letter saying she’d recently purchased it for her, Amelia had seen this shawl before.

  “How pretty,” Tavis said as he grabbed a corner of the cloth and held it up to the side of her face. “Look. It’s the same color of green as your eyes. I have never seen anything like it before.”

  Still, Amelia remained motionless, eyeing the shawl with equal parts awe and fear. “I have,” she whispered, thinking of her meeting with Jane all those weeks ago. She hadn’t seen her since and had eventually convinced herself Jane was a figment of her overworked imagination. But this, this was proof of her existence because somehow—and she didn’t know how—her mother had purchased Jane’s shawl for her.

  Jane…Why didn’t I see the connection before? Amelia Jane.

  Was it possible? Was Jane Amelia’s future? She touched the smooth edge of the wrapper and felt a spark tingle up and down her arm. She snatched her fingers away.

  That certainly explains Jane’s uncanny knowledge of me and my husband. What it all meant she did not know nor, she was surprised to discover, did she care. Unlike her curse, which she had spent years trying to decipher, maybe this was one mystery best left unsolved.

  Gathering the shawl in his hands, Tavis rose. “Here, I’ll put it on you.” As he unfolded the layers of fabric, a small note floated to the ground. He bent to pick it up and read, “It will only work once. Use it wisely.”

  “That’s odd,” he said with a frown. “Whatever does it mean?”

  Amelia laughed and knew then her suspicions were correct. “Oh, nothing, I imagine. Someone’s idea of a joke, perhaps.” Taking the shawl and the note from his hand, she tossed them aside. “Besides, it’s much too warm today to wear a shawl.”

  Later, after she’d had the time to look at everythi
ng and examine what it all meant, she would find a special place to store the shawl so it would be ready in case her suspicions were correct. But not now. Now she needed to be here with her husband, not worrying about her sisters and not thinking about a distant future and a magical shawl.

  Wrapping her arms about Tavis’s neck, she asked, “Tell me, Husband, what brings you out of the stables on such a fine day as this?”

  His lingering confusion and worry about the mysterious note fled at her question, and he smiled, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Hyacinth is breeding!”

  “Oh, Tavis!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “How wonderful!”

  He had worked hard this last month and a half to prepare Ballywith Stables to be a national name amongst horse enthusiasts and racers. He had spent hours writing letters to contacts he held throughout England and Scotland, informing them of his venture. Within weeks, three interested parties had arrived at Ballywith, and he had secured much-needed funding from these backers. Now that their first horse was breeding, it would be only a matter of time before requests for Ballywith horses came pouring in from all over England and Scotland.

  Catching his lips with her own, Amelia kissed Tavis fiercely. “I’m so proud of you,” she said when she pulled back. “When will she foal, do you think? In nine months like me?”

  “By the beginning of next July.” He rubbed his hands together, missing the important news she shared. “Why do you ask? Do you want to help with the foaling?”

  She took his hand and pressed it to her stomach. “I ask because I was hoping to be the first female since your mother to have a baby at Ballywith, and it looks like I will be.”

  His eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned, and his mouth opened and closed, though no sound emerged. Eventually, he spluttered, “You mean… you’re going to…we’re going to…?”

  With tears of happiness filling her eyes, she nodded. “He or she should arrive early spring of next year.” Tavis slid from his seat and knelt before Amelia. Hugging her waist, he placed his head in her lap and held her. Then he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her barely rounded abdomen. When he looked up, his own eyes were wet and full of emotion.

  “I’m going to be a father!” he whispered. Jumping up, he pulled her into his arms and swung her around. “I’m going to be a father!” he shouted. Pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, he cradled her to him. “Thank you, Amelia. You have given me more than I ever dreamed possible. Every day I thank my lucky stars you agreed to run away with me even though you knew next to nothing about me, not even my real name.”

  “I should be the one thanking you,” she replied. “Before we met I was miserable, and it took a chance meeting with a stranger to show me the truth of what I had become. It was your words and actions that awakened within me a fierce desire to live my life on my terms and not at the mercy of my curse. That’s why I ran away with you, Tavis, and I have not once regretted my decision.”

  When he looked like he wanted to protest, Amelia placed her forefinger over his mouth to quiet his protestations. “I know it still bothers you that we started our relationship with a lie, Husband, but know it was that lie which showed me the truth. It was that lie which gave me wings to fly.”

  Twining her hands around his neck, she kissed her husband, sharing all the joy she had found since meeting him, knowing in her heart he was the only truth she ever needed.

  A word about the author…

  Sara Ackerman is an ESL teacher in Wisconsin. Little White Lies is her debut novel.

  Visit Sara at:

  http://seackerman.com

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.