The Lily Brand (35 page)
Surprised, Lillian raised her head. “For me?”
He nodded, intently watching the play of their fingers. “I went to France with a purpose.” Only then did he look at her. There was an odd expression in his eyes that Lillian could not interpret. “I will be right back.” His fingers slid from hers, and he left the bed.
Lillian huddled in the blankets, suddenly feeling bereft. Her gaze was drawn to his firm naked buttocks as he went around the room. To the graceful curve of his back, toned with muscles. And then there was that spot on his neck, just below the hairline, that small, vulnerable-looking spot. Her fingers twitched with the urge to stroke the skin there, to lay her hand over that stretch of flesh, to take him into her care.
Mine,
she thought.
Mine.
He rummaged in the top drawer of his chest and came back with a small velvet bag. Upon his approach, Lillian settled higher among the pillows against the headrest. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the side of the bed, his face somber.
Worried by his expression, Lillian reached out to touch his hand. At that, he smiled a little, yet when he looked at her, he grew serious again.
“You once gave me something,” he began. “A precious gift it was. But it took me some time to understand its full significance. At first it was just gold to pay my way to freedom. And that, of course, was precious for me. But I did not understand… how much more it was.” His gaze never left hers, and she saw how very blue his eyes were, that intense cornflower-blue that so easily touched her soul. She remembered that last smoldering look on a muddy lane in France and the sight of glinting gold flying through the rain. “Nanette… Nanette made me see its real worth.” He swallowed. “A gift of your heart. So much more precious than mere gold.”
Lillian blinked. A lump rose in her throat and rendered her powerless to speak.
“So I went to France to get it back. For you. To give you back that gift of the heart.” He reached out and tenderly wiped away the single tear rolling down her cheek. “A heart for a heart.” He opened the velvet bag and let its contents fall into his hand.
But Lillian did not look down. Her gaze remained locked with his, even as her eyes welled over, even as he slowly raised his hands and the cool metal settled on her skin. Carefully he fastened the chain and made sure that no hair would be caught in the tiny rings.
She did not need to look down to know what it was. She had worn the locket for so many years that the weight of it felt instantly familiar.
“It is a bit dented in one place,” Troy said huskily, “but the miniatures are still there. I give it back to you, my Lilly, and I thank you for the gift.” He leaned forward. “And I thank you for my life.”
A sob caught in Lillian’s throat.
“Twice, if I recall correctly.” A smile tugged at his mouth. His hands came up to frame her face. “I love you, my Lilly,” he murmured before he kissed her.
The tears now flowed freely over Lillian’s cheeks. Wet, hot tears, as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I love you, too,” she whispered shakily against his lips. “So very much.” His warmth surrounded her, and she let the heat of his body seep into her skin until it warmed her heart forever.
They had overcome the past, and now the future was theirs.
~ THE END ~
THANK YOU!
Thank you so much for reading
The Lily Brand
! I hope you’ve enjoyed Troy & Lillian’s story.
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Acknowledgments
For the most part, writing is a solitary business, yet this book wouldn’t have come about without the help of many lovely people:
First and foremost my thanks go to the wonderful ladies of the Ladies of Lallybroch Literary Forum: Thank you for teaching me how to fly! I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you!
Extra-special thanks to our own Lady LaLa, for being an inspiration for us all, but also for letting herself be bullied into proofreading the last few chapters of this novel.
A million thanks to my editor, Chris, for taking a chance on this bumbling new author. Many thanks to Teresa, for her enthusiasm and the cover quote; to Gaelen, for her friendship and advice; to Ulla, who knows why; to the members of La porte de pierre, who helped me with the French swear words; to Martin for Debrett’s; and to Dee, for giving me confidence when I needed it. Meeting you was like meeting my very own fairy godmother!
Furthermore, I’m deeply grateful to everybody who patted my hand during last-minute panic attacks: Jen, Trish, Ulla, the other Sandy, and the members of the Beau Monde.
Last but not least, I would like to thank my parents for always enabling me to pursue my dreams.
About the Author
Award-winning author Sandra Schwab started writing her first novel when she was seven years old. Thirty-odd years later, telling stories is still her greatest passion, even though by now she has exchanged her pink fountain pen of old for a black computer keyboard. Since the release of her debut novel in 2005, she has enchanted readers worldwide with her unusual historical romances.
She holds a PhD in English Literature and lives in Frankfurt am Main / Germany with a sketchbook, a sewing machine, and an ever-expanding library.
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Other Books by Sandra Schwab
Allan’s Miscellany (Victorian)
Eagle’s Honor (Ancient Rome)
Eagle’s Honor: Ravished (autumn 2015)
Eagle’s Honor: Vanquished (2016)