Susan Spencer Paul (22 page)

Lillis sighed wearily. “Very well. You have my promise.”

Barbara smiled with delight. “What I wished to tell you is this. You have more of a family than you think. The twins—Hugh and Hugo—as hard as this may be to believe, though it is quite true—the twins are your half brothers. I thought you should know. I’d want to know if I were you.”

Lillis stared at her, then said, slowly, shaking her head, “You’re mad. I really think I must call for Alexander—”

“No, it is quite, quite true, I assure you,” Barbara insisted. “There is a document to prove that it is so and I have seen it. I cannot tell you how it came to be, but I promise it is true. You mustn’t tell Hugh and Hugo, however, for I think they would be crushed to know that Jaward of Wellewyn was their father, especially now that he is dead. Don’t you agree?”

For the second time in her life Lillis felt like swooning. Everything that Barbara said had a distinctly amazing quality to it, and she was hard put to decide whether she should believe the girl or not. It could be true, but it was just as likely that it was not.

As if reading her mind, Barbara responded, “You must believe me! I realize that I ask a great deal of you, but you must trust me nonetheless. All of those things that I said and did to you, especially that time when I threatened to kill you, well—I can only hope you’ll understand how I felt at the time. It was horrible to be cast aside after so many years of thinking I would be Lady Gyer.” Barbara’s eyes grew wide and she nodded. “It was very hard on me, yes, it was.”

“You told the children I was a
witch,
” Lillis accused.

“Well, goodness,” Barbara returned, much offended, “I was only teasing. Am I not allowed to have any fun at all?”

“Why should I believe the things you tell me?” Lillis asked tightly. “You and your brother have lied to me time and again. And you’ve every reason to want to be rid of me so that you can have Alexander all to yourself again.”

Barbara shook her head. “No! I don’t love Cousin Alex. Not the way that I love—I mean—” she faltered “—not that way that I love someone else.”

Lillis eyed Barbara suspiciously. “Who?”

Barbara flushed and bowed her head. “Jason de Burgh,” she answered. “I’m in love with Jason de Burgh, and please don’t ask me how it happened, for I don’t have time to explain that to you, either.” She lifted her head and met Lillis’s steady gaze. “And I’m not doing all of this only out of the kindness of my heart. That much, I must admit. There is something I would ask in return.”

“What is it?

Barbara drew something else out from beneath her surcoat, a sealed missive, and set it upon Lillis’s knees. “This is for Jason,” Barbara whispered. “It is very important, but I’ve no way to get it to him without John discovering it.”

“John doesn’t know of your feelings for the Lord of Dunsted?” Lillis asked with a faint smile.

“Oh, no,” she answered quickly. “He would be most angry with me if he did know. He still hopes, you know, that Alex and I might somehow—someday—” She flushed.

“It’s all right, Barbara,” Lillis said gently, feeling a sudden pity for the girl. “I think I understand. John has taken care of you for many years, and had plans for you that were suddenly disrupted. From what I have known of him, and from what you now say, a great deal has become clear to me. In truth, I’m glad, for if you do not love Alexander, I do.”

Barbara gazed at her with luminous eyes. “It is not that I’ve never been fond of Cousin Alex, for I always have been, but I love Jason—oh, it’s so hard to explain how it is. I love him so much, yet it hurts so deeply.”

Lillis smiled. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Will you help me then, my lady? Will you send this missive to him when you are safely away from Gyer? Will you?”

“I will,” Lillis promised. “Don’t worry over the matter.”

Barbara was relieved. She released Lillis’s hand and said, “Thank you, Cousin. Perhaps, someday, when you’ve returned to Gyer, we will become friends. For now trusting must suffice. You must give me back your mother’s portrait.” She extended one delicate white hand to receive the requested item.

Lillis clutched the portrait tightly. “May I not keep it? I’ve never had anything of my mother’s before. Let me have it, I beg you.”

Barbara shook her head and insistently extended her hand. “When you are gone from here, and if I do not have the portrait in my possession, John will know I told you the truth, and I cannot take the chance of that. On that same someday when we may be able to become friends, perhaps we will be able to make a trade. My mother and yours exchanged their portraits on the day they were separated. Somewhere in Castle Wellewyn, if your father didn’t destroy it, there is a portrait like this one but of my mother. Try to find it for me, Lillis. I’ll return this to you even if you don’t, but it would mean the world to me to have a remembrance of my mother, much as this would mean to you.”

Reluctantly Lillis handed the portrait to Barbara, and Barbara dropped it back inside the leather pouch, drew and tied the strings together, then pushed it inside her surcoat.

W
ith one hand pressed against the small of her back and the other pushing against the snow-covered ground, Lillis slowly raised herself to a standing position. She was amazed at how such a simple thing as kneeling beside her parents’ graves for only a few minutes could make her body ache so much, but then her body seemed to ache continually these days. Sometimes she attributed it to the cold winter weather combined with living in the drafty ruins of Castle Wellewyn, at other times she wondered if perhaps the cause weren’t something altogether different.

She had come to visit her parents’ graves earlier than usual today. There was still a great deal to do before Alexander arrived to partake of the meal she’d invited him to, and Lillis wanted everything to be perfect.

Lost in thought, she stood there for a few minutes, contemplating the fresh flowers she had just placed on her parents’ graves. She remembered how the inner bailey had once looked, when she’d been a child. It had been wildly overgrown with weeds and so unwelcoming that she’d never dared brave it even to visit her mother’s grave. How very different it was now, all made over into a lovely, charming garden and strictly maintained by two gardeners. It had been Alexander’s gift to her, a surprise, set in motion during the days he’d been at Wellewyn, arranging for her father’s burial and searching for the one who’d murdered him and caring for the people of Wellewyn. He had hired the gardeners and instructed them to make this place beautiful, for her pleasure, and to keep it beautiful in every season. Lillis had never known such happiness as she did in this little garden, or such peace. Even in the cold winter weather she enjoyed it.

It was cold for November, colder than usual, though the snow, thankfully, had not fallen for the past two days. Lillis shivered and wrapped her cloak more tightly about herself.

“Hello, Lillis.”

The familiar voice both surprised and frightened her. She turned quickly.

“Alexander.” She took a couple of steps toward him, then stopped. “You came early.”

He looked thinner than she remembered, perhaps a bit tired. There were circles under his eyes and his face was pale, yet he had never looked more handsome. He was beautifully dressed in warm winter clothes made of a rich burgundy color that caused his dark hair and green eyes to stand out vividly. He had clearly dressed to honor her.

“Yes,” he said, gazing at her with something like a cautious frown. “I could wait no longer. Is it all right, Lillis?”

“Yes. I’m glad. I’ve missed you.” Slowly she moved closer, until she stood directly in front of him. He held himself perfectly still, and his eyes searched hers. “If I kiss you in greeting, Alexander,” she whispered, “you’ll not think me ready to return to Gyer, will you?”

He shook his head. “No,” he tried to say, his mouth forming the word though no sound came out.

Lillis moved into his arms with the greatest relief she’d ever known and, starved for the touch and taste of him, raised her mouth to meet his. Their hands, urgent and demanding, found their way beneath the warmth of each other’s cloaks to hold one another tightly. She reveled in the feeling of his strong, hard body against her own and beneath her seeking hands. To hold him now, to be held by him, felt wonderful and right. His mouth on hers was passionate yet gentle at the same time, and Lillis kissed him with all the longing and loneliness that the past month had wrought in her.

“I’ve missed you,” Alexander said when he could. “It has seemed more like ten years rather than one month. There were times when I thought I would lose my resolve and mount the nearest horse and come storming all the way to Wellewyn just to have a glimpse of you.” He pulled away a little and looked down at her. “I’ve been more lonely for you than I could ever put into words. Do you think—is there any chance that you might come home to me soon?”

“Let’s not speak of it tonight, Alexander,” she said. “I’ve been lonely for you, also, but I’m not yet ready to return to Gyer. If you can be patient for only a little while longer then I promise that when I do return I will never leave you again.”

He made a groaning sound but kissed her. “I’ll be patient for as long as you ask me to be. For now I can only thank God that I hold you in my arms again. Even this has been worth a month of misery.”

She took Alexander’s hand. “I know it’s cold, my lord, but will you walk in the garden with me? You must see the wonderful present you’ve given me. Indeed, I’ve never had a present so fine. It’s much smaller than your own gardens at Gyer, but it is very beautiful, and I do love it so.”

Alexander tucked her hand warmly through his arm, covering it with his. They began to walk together, slowly and comfortably, the snow crunching beneath their feet. “Any garden you’re in is the best place in the world to me, Lillis,” Alexander said. “Better than heaven, even. I’m glad if it has given you pleasure.”

“Oh, it has, my lord. Such pleasure. I think of you when I’m here. When I’m lonely, I feel closer to you. Is it not beautiful?” she asked. “Even with the snow?”

“Not half as beautiful as its mistress,” he said.

She laughed. “I wish the children could see it. The twins spend a great deal of time having snow wars here. Sometimes Willem and I have to run for our lives.”

Alexander tried to share her smile, but he wondered, in spite of himself, whether she ever walked through this garden with Willem as she now walked with him.

“Speaking of my wicked brothers, where are they? And where is Willem? I must admit I did expect something more of a welcome than the one I received when I arrived at the castle doors. The poor woman who opened them took one look at me and nearly swooned. I had to direct two of my men to carry her to a chair and try to revive her.”

“Oh, dear,” said Lillis rather guiltily. “I’m sorry, Alexander. That must have been Tildy. She’s the new cook who took Agnes’s place when she broke her arm last week. I would have met you at the door myself, but I expected you’d arrive later, though I am so glad you came when you did. As to Willem and the twins—well—I asked them if they wouldn’t mind taking themselves off for the day.” She blushed deeply. “I wanted you all to myself, my lord, and now you know the truth of me—I am exceedingly selfish, I fear.”

Alexander didn’t respond for a minute. He caressed her fingers with his own, playing with them in the same, unthinking manner she’d seen him do with Barbara. “I’m glad,” he finally stated, slowly and quietly. “It will be good to have you all to myself after missing you for such a long time. And,” he added, looking at her, “we do have much to discuss.”

“Yes,” Lillis agreed, swallowing, her whole body tingling from the warm, lazy tone of his voice.

“Where did Willem and the boys take themselves off to?”

“Willem went to Winslow to see about finding an artisan who can make new grindstones for the miller. One of the old ones is cracked and does a very poor job of grinding. He should be back on the morrow.” She fell silent after this.

“And the twins?” Alexander prompted.

“The twins? Well, the twins have...the twins have—” She stopped walking and turned to him. “I cannot lie to you, Alexander, much as I wish I could. The twins have taken advantage of your absence at Gyer to go there and steal some of their birds and bring them back to Wellewyn. I’m so sorry. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Alexander gazed into his wife’s beautiful, chagrined face and tried very hard not to laugh. She was such an innocent, and obviously didn’t have the least knowledge that Hugh and Hugo had been making several regular early-morning raids on Gyer since the day they’d left a month before. Where did she think all of that good wine had come from? And all of those wax candles and heavy woolen blankets and imported spices? But he knew she would be unhappy to know the truth, and so he kept the secret. Besides, the twins were doing him a great favor—their thievery provided for Lillis as Alexander, himself, wanted to do and would have done, if Lillis had only allowed it.

He leaned down and lightly kissed her nose, then her mouth, and said, “That sounds like something Hugh and Hugo would do. But it’s all right. You shouldn’t feel guilty for them. The birds are theirs, and they should be able to have them if they wish. I know your father’s mews are empty and have been for some time. Indeed, I shall be glad to know that Hugh and Hugo will be able to bring home a great deal of game with those birds and thus fill your larder. I would have sent you some birds myself save I feared you might be angry and send them back.”

She looked unhappy in spite of his efforts. “You’ve already done so much, my lord,” she said. “You have lost a fortune and more on Wellewyn, and it is all my father’s fault. Can you not understand how deep my regret is? I could never add to that.”

Alexander framed her face with his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “You are my wife,” he whispered, and gently kissed one side of her mouth. “I love you.” He turned her face and kissed the other side. “It is my honor to care for you. For you, for your happiness, I would spend every groat and half groat that I possess.” He kissed her fully then, and gave in to the passion that had simmered in him for so many lonely days. He knew he was crushing her, hoped he was not hurting her, and would have laid her right down onto the snow if some small leftover sense of reason hadn’t told him that it would be too uncomfortable for her.

Lillis finally tore her mouth away, though she didn’t push from him. Instead she pressed her face against his shoulder and held him somewhat more tightly. Alexander felt her breath hot on his neck and as rapid and uncontrolled as his own.

“Lillis,” he said hoarsely, “I’ll not be able to keep my hands off you. Perhaps I should go away.”

She shook her head against him. “No. I don’t want you to leave and I don’t want you to feel as if you must keep from touching me. I am your wife, Alexander, and that is what I want to be. Not your prisoner and not your chattel and not your toy.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “I didn’t leave you because of the way that you loved me, but because of the way you treated me.” There were tears in her eyes, which she wiped away quickly. She smiled weakly and took hold of his hand. “But come, my lord, let us not speak of these things now. Come inside and I shall set you before the fire and bring you some wine. I want to hear about everyone at Gyer, especially Edyth and Aunt Leta and the children.”

Alexander didn’t resist as she tugged him toward the castle. In a very short while he found himself seated in a somewhat feeble chair in front of the only working fireplace in the hall of Castle Wellewyn. Lillis disappeared behind a screen to fetch wine, and Alexander looked around the shabby chamber with a feeling of faint disgust.

He’d been at Castle Wellewyn enough times to be familiar with it, yet he never ceased to be amazed at the fact that people actually lived here. The stables at Gyer were more livable than Castle Wellewyn, which could not actually be called a castle by true definition. It was better named a keep, or even a manor house; Alexander could have easily fit ten or more Castle Wellewyns inside Castle Gyer.

He was gratified with the reconstruction work that had been done by the men he’d sent. He could see what areas had been repaired and rebuilt, such as the roof and the corner of one wall that he remembered as falling down. All of the window shutters had been replaced to keep the wind from whistling inside; Castle Wellewyn had no glass windows as Castle Gyer did. His men had done a good job thus far; at least the castle was safe from the snow and wind and rain. If they could only get the other two fireplaces in the room working, the place might actually be warm.

There was something else new about Castle Wellewyn. It was, for the first time in Alexander’s memory, spotlessly clean. Lillis had been responsible for that, he knew, and he wished again that she would let him send servants to help her. The cleaning of the place must have been a laborious task. There were fresh rushes on the floor, the cobwebs and dirt had been washed from the walls, the black soot that had once covered the fireplace was gone, and even the screen partitions looked like they’d been scrubbed. Lillis had hung some of her beautiful needleworks on the walls, and on the one table that sat in the middle of the room there was a beautiful vase.

“Here I am, my lord,” Lillis said brightly as she came around the screen bearing two plain pewter goblets in one hand and a mismatched wine decanter in the other. A horde of cats followed in her wake, meowing loudly and running around her swinging skirts. “I took a moment to check on your men and make certain that Tildy’s keeping them comfortable in the kitchen. You must have thought I’d run away.” She smiled and handed him the goblets.

Alexander held them out for her to fill.

“No, I didn’t think that,” he said, watching as she carefully poured the red wine that he knew had come from his own cellars. “I was admiring the many changes you’ve made here. It is a different dwelling, I vow, and most comfortable.”

Lillis’s cheeks flushed with pleasure, and Alexander’s heart responded to this added beauty in her with a typical rapid thumping.

“Do you think so, my lord?” she asked hopefully.

Alexander swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

She put the decanter down and looked at him with shining eyes, unwittingly causing Alexander’s heart to pump even more erratically. “I’m glad to hear you say so,” she admitted. “I had hoped you would notice. Of course, most of the improvement is due to the work your men have done.”

Lillis sat in the chair next to his, and Alexander handed her one of the goblets. He thought that this was heaven having Lillis beside him, at ease with him once more. “That is less than true, my love, but I’m glad if they’ve contributed some small part.”

“They’ve done no less than make the dwelling habitable, sir, and you know that very well. I had forgotten in what disrepair my father kept it, but now it is quite worthy. One day, perhaps,” she added with sudden shyness, “you will see fit to make one of our sons lord here, and he will be grateful, indeed, to have had his home so well kept for him.”