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The Flower And The Sword
The Flower And The Sword
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The Flower And The Sword

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In a moment, she changed again, shifting her posture and giving Lily an assessing glance. By her expression, she apparently found her subject wanting. “While they are here, Lily, I do not want you embarrassing us any further. You do not seem to be able to conduct yourself properly. I think it would be wise if you kept busy in your chamber, or in the solar with the other ladies, studying your needlework.”

Lily narrowed her eyes and jammed her fist on one hip. “You are not Mother, Catherine. She would never have spoken to us so. She was kind and gentle and would not have liked in the least the way you rule this castle with an iron fist. I will not have you mistreating Elspeth. And I will certainly not hide myself away simply because you dislike me.”

“We shall see,” she said in a brittle voice.

As Catherine turned to leave, Lily crossed her eyes and curled her top lip in an exaggerated sneer, causing Elspeth to clamp a hand over her mouth in order to stifle a gasp.

“And don’t think I do not know you are making faces at me,” Catherine called as she disappeared down the hall.

Collapsing onto her bed, Lily flung her head back. “Lord, she is a trial!”

Elspeth looked warily at the door, as if fearful Catherine would reappear. When she did not, she came to Lily’s side and took her sister’s hand.

“She frightens me.”

Lily turned her head and looked lovingly at the child. “You must not let her, Elspeth.”

Elspeth was still doubtful. “She has such a terrible temper. I fear what she will do now. Catherine hates to be thwarted.” Her gaze darted to the door and she swallowed convulsively. “Remember our rabbits?”

Lily covered her sister’s hand, not able to stifle a shudder herself. When they were children, they had each been given a rabbit for a pet for the feast of Christ’s Mass. Catherine’s had fallen ill and died within days. She had been furious, claiming it was unfair. The next day, the other two rabbits were found dead in their pens.

“Do not think on that,” Lily soothed. “It was never proved that she killed those poor creatures. It could have been anyone. And even if she did do such a thing, she must certainly regret it. She has done nothing else to threaten a soul.”

“Except the servants,” Elspeth shivered. “Dory told me she came upon her talking to Kenneth in the kitchens, and went into a terrible fit of temper.”

Lily cut her off with a calm, steady voice. “Catherine can be harsh, it is true, but there is a difference between anger and harm.”

The denial sounded hollow in her own ears and Elspeth seemed less than convinced. Lily added, “Father will insure all is well.”

“With the aid of our Lord,” Elspeth murmured.

Lily stretched the tension from her muscles. “Of course. I am going for a walk. The night is cool, and I need some air.”

“You cannot! Catherine would be furious.”

“She will not know,” Lily said as she scampered off the bed and flew to the door. “And besides, I refuse to be intimidated by her silly commands. Good night, sweet sister.”

“Lily!” Elspeth whispered urgently, but she was already gone.

“I wish we were camping outside with the rest of the men instead of in this wretched place,” Andrew complained. “I keep expecting Marshand to appear at any moment, screeching his pent-up fury and wielding an ax aimed for our heads!”

Rogan shrugged in studied nonchalance. “No sense sleeping out in the heat when we can enjoy the cool solace of the castle.”

“‘Cool solace’ my arse, you have got your eye on the girl! The little flower, Lily. I saw you staring during supper.”

Rogan looked back blankly. “The girl? Could you mean the very one you tried so hard to charm?”

“I was not trying to seduce her, damn it all. I was trying to be congenial.”

“Admit it, you were enjoying it.”

“Naturally. She is a lovely girl. Enchanting, actually. Are you going to deny that you would have traded places with me?”

A dark look came over Rogan’s handsome features. “I had duty to think of.”

“Is it always duty with you, Rogan?”

Rogan didn’t answer. A pensive silence fell.

“You were successful, I take it,” Andrew said after a space.

“Hmm?”

“I was referring to Catherine. You won her over. I thought by the end of the evening she was going to positively devour you.”

“Aye,” Rogan said with a hint of disgust, “she does have the look of a predator.”

“She terrifies me, I am not ashamed to say. Her beauty is cold. And her eyes…they burn cold. Had you not noticed? Positively chilling. The sooner we are away, the better.”

Rogan rubbed the back of his neck. “There are things to be settled here first.”

“You mean the girl.”

“What girl?”

“Lily, of course. Don’t be so dense.”

Rogan lifted a casual brow. “She seemed pleasant enough. I admit that she did not escape my notice. But you can hardly think that I would be so foolish as to allow a distraction such as her.”

“Why not? Do you never think of what you want? Family obligation can be taken too seriously, you know.”

“Calm yourself, Andrew. You will age before your time,” Rogan said lightly. “It is hardly my habit to sniff around after virgins.”

“You could not keep from staring at her all during dinner.”

“Good God, brother, I am a man, and not a blind one at that. And I am not constrained to chastity as you are. I was merely appreciating the lass, for as I told you, she impressed me favorably.” Rogan sighed. “Yes, it is true. She is tempting.”

“And tempted. You were all she wanted to talk about.” Andrew was not dissuaded by Rogan’s impatient wave of his hand. “And not a half hour ago I saw her duck into the gardens. No doubt she walks among the scented roses—” Andrew’s voice lifted in an overly dramatic way reminiscent of a bard “—dreaming of true love.”

“She’d make a fine companion for Alex,” Rogan muttered. Then he raised his head. “In the garden, you say? How long ago?”

“Not even an hour.”

Rogan stared at his brother for a long time. Then he stood up and stretched. “I fancy myself a stroll in the garden. I have always enjoyed the outdoors just before retiring.” He hesitated, not sure in which direction the gardens lay.

He looked expectantly at Andrew, who held up a pointed finger. “That way,” he said.

Chapter Three (#ulink_69f34d45-fc34-5b44-9ad5-b25b75962d97)

The orchard was cool, washed in the light of a generous moon. Lily breathed in heavily of the scented air. A soft breeze stirred the branches into a crisp chorus of whispers, and the sound soothed her.

She slipped off her shoes and hiked up her skirt, then sat on the edge of the wading pool and dangled her feet into the water. Speculatively she studied the night-shrouded statue in its center. Hermes. Muscular and poised, with winged sandals and crown, he who was the messenger of the pagan gods reigned over the starless night. As a girl, Lily used to stare dreamily at the figure, making up stories in her head with him as her hero, rescuing her as he had Perseus, Odysseus and Aries but with a more romantic turn. Yet tonight, the displaced idol was only carved stone. Another stole her thoughts.

She kicked a bit to feel the water swirl around her bare legs. The pool water felt like a wonderful caress, cold against her skin yet somehow sensuous. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. A wisp of a smile curved her lips. Just thinking of Rogan St. Cyr set her to trembling inside. A small part of her cautioned—nagging in a voice suspiciously like Catherine’s—that she should stop this foolishness at once. But it felt too wonderful, and besides, she didn’t want to.

As if conjured by her thoughts, a voice, very close, said softly in her ear, “Good eve, demoiselle.”

Without thinking, she jerked upright, her feet hitting the slick bottom of the shallow pool. Immediately, she felt them sliding out from under her, and just as she was about to fall, a strong arm encircled her, pulling her back up against a solid chest

“My lady,” the rich voice rumbled, “take care.”

Lily caught a breath of his scent, musky and clean and completely masculine. Snapping her head around, she found herself staring up into his face, only inches from her own. His eyes, a curious shade of gray, looked down at her with a mixture of humor and concern. “Shall I help you?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered, remembering herself. She pulled herself aright, slipped again, and in the end had to cling to him as she stepped out of the pool. Her gown was drenched from the knees down, making it a cumbersome weight. Standing there, soaked and embarrassed, at a terrible loss as to how to redeem herself, Lily felt perilously close to tears. “If you will excuse me,” she said, making to brush past him to enter the castle. She was prevented from a graceful exit by the noisy flapping of her wet skirts. After stumbling clumsily for a few steps, she paused. Oh, Lord, she groaned silently, I must look the utter fool.

“Why are you leaving?” Rogan asked.

“I must go, I…” Why couldn’t she think straight?

“You cannot go anywhere with your dress soaked as it is. It would be impossible to negotiate the stairs,” he said reasonably. “Why do you not sit here and let the air dry it a bit before going inside? I think it will be much safer.”

He was smiling slightly, his mouth curving in a way that made her lose what little equanimity she had left. He was not bothering to hide his amusement, but to her relief, Lily saw he was not mocking her. She sank down nervously on the carved stone bench. He sat down beside her.

“I suppose you think me rather hoydenish after such a display,” she apologized.

“Nonsense,” he assured her. “I found it most refreshing. After all, we all let our guard down when we are in private, which is what you thought you were.”

“Well, Catherine would be furious if she knew. Not that there is ever any pleasing Catherine, but if she knew that you had seen me thus…”

Rogan’s face split into a broad smile. “I assure you, my lady, your secret is safe with me.”

Lily liked his smile, was a bit dazzled by it, and then looked away, uncomfortable. “Bloody embarrassing,” she muttered. She had a habit of doing that, saying aloud things she was thinking before she realized it.

“What did you say?”

Immediately Lily realized her transgression. Horrified, she stammered, “I-I simply said that this is quite embarrassing—almost falling into the pool and being so wet.”

But he had heard. She could see he was trying to keep from laughing and doing a poor job of it. What must he think of her, soggy and swearing like a soldier? And why did it so desperately matter what he thought of her?

“I really should go,” Lily said quickly.

“Please stay. I should enjoy the company.”

“I—” She should refuse, she had sense enough left to know that much. Yet she did not move.

Her pride still smarted from her humiliating gaffes. She must find some way to compose herself. She decided to try acting like a proper hostess, as she had been taught.

“H-how do you like Charolais?” she asked politely. “Did you see the tapestries in the hall? They depict the famous battles of the Marshands. I could tell you the stories if you like.”

“Perhaps some other time.”

No good. Some other pleasantry, then. “Did you have an enjoyable journey? What do you think of our moors?”

Rogan apparently decided to play along and allow her to lead the conversation. “We did, though this is desolate land. It has a certain rugged beauty one would come to appreciate.”

Grateful that he had settled upon a neutral topic, Lily replied, “’Tis true that the beauty of Cornwall is beloved by its natives and misunderstood by everyone else.”

“It seems harsh. I wonder if it makes the people so?”

Lily did not know how to answer that. “I suppose the coast makes for a rugged life. We are closely wedded to the sea out here.”

“Ah, aye, the sea. Do you love the water?”

“I love to look at it.”

“Do you also love to sail? I have always enjoyed being out in the vast ocean, with blue all around.”

“Heavens, no.” Why did every conversation lead to questions about her? “I am afraid I was brought up quite strictly. I was never allowed to do anything like that. Much too dangerous, Father says.”

“Would you like to, someday?”

Caught off guard, Lily couldn’t keep the smile from her face at the prospect of such an adventure. “Oh, very much.”

“Maybe you will,” Rogan said, then paused. “It must be such a burden to you.”

“What?”

“Always being so correct. You seem to like simpler sport. Dangling your feet in the water and the like.”

Lily flushed. “You do tease me meanly by reminding me of my misbehavior.”

“If that is true, I offer my sincere apology,” he said. “It is just that I also find obligations tiresome. Powerful alliances and titled marriages—your family seems to be impressed with these. But not you, I’d wager.”

Lily was stunned. How was it he knew her so well?

“I myself have never cared for the formality that surrounds titles,” Rogan continued. “I saw what it did to my brother. All the demands made him sullen and difficult. I suppose his recent marriage is his grand rebellion against all of it. It is better than going the way some go—becoming depraved and jaded. Privilege seems to have a corrupting influence, robbing one of the ability to appreciate something of the basic joys. And some of us, by nature, cannot abide that.”

Lily nodded, allowing herself to be drawn in. “Sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to live without all of the rules and demands and just feel…”

“Free?” he supplied.

“Aye,” she breathed. “It seems odd, does it not, that for all of my family’s wealth, I have less to my name than my servants.”

“And what freedoms do you envy your servants?”

“They work hard, indeed, my sister insures they do, for she is strict and exacting in her management. Yet, despite their burdens and lack of finery, they seem to possess a certain spontaneity, the ability to view things very clearly and without complication. Catherine says they are simple, but I wonder if they do not possess some perspective worth knowing. She says they are lawless and lusty. But they have a contentment I have never witnessed among the noble folk.”

Rogan raised a brow. “Really? That’s fascinating. Lawless and lusty, you say?”