Wild Bells to the Wild Sky (66 page)

"No, it was the only one that didn't perish. It's in the cart, in my trunk. No, Farley took it to entertain at that farm. He must still have it."

"Odd, isn't it, that your booth should born down? I would like to see this puppet. What was your puppet show about?" he asked out of idle curiosity.

"It was a fable about wild white horses. I used to tell it to Dulcie to get her to go to sleep when we were on the island.
Actually
, 'twas Basil who
-
-" Lily was beginning to say that it had been Basil who'd told the fable to them when there was a knock on the door before it slowly opened to reveal Dulcie and Tristram peeking in;
seeing
her awake, they both raced in, followed by Raphael and Cappie.

"Oh, Lily! You're alive!" Dulcie cried, climbing onto the bed and scrambling into Lily's arms. "I was afraid when you slept so long that you might have died. Uncle Valentine wouldn't let me come in to see you. He said I had to trust him."

Simon Whitelaw, who had followed Dulcie and Tristram into the room, now stood self-consciously near the door, a slightly puzzled frown on his face as he noticed his uncle sitting so close to Lily on the edge of the bed, and he could have sworn that Valentine had been holding one of Lily's hands.

"I told Dulcie you would be all right," Tristram said, neglecting to say that he had left most of his supper untouched.

"Tillie said you have a bump on your head as big as an apple," Dulcie said, eyeing her sister curiously.

"Not that big, Dulcie. More like a walnut, isn't it, Lily?" Tristram corrected his sister.

Lily managed a smile, even though Dulcie's jump onto the bed had left her head pounding sickeningly. "Thanks to you saving me from drowning, sweeting, I'm at least here to feel it, whatever size it is," Lily said, kissing Dulcie on her forehead. "That was very brave of you."

Dulcie snuggled closer. "I could swim, Lily, and Fairfax couldn't," she explained without taking any special credit for her act of heroism. "He looked so funny running along the bank. Kind of like a big chicken. I was afraid he was going to bump Tillie into the pool, and no one could have pulled her out."

"We will have to find some special way to reward you and Tristram," Valentine said, tickling her under the chin while she giggled.

"I wish I'd been there earlier," Tristram said from his perch on the foot of the bed. "I would have caught your attacker, Lily," he told her, thinking he hadn't done anything special in jumping in the pool to help Dulcie out, for he'd done that most of his life, especially when they'd been on the island.

"I understand we have you to thank, Simon, for
coming
in search of us in the first place," Lily said, noticing the tall thin figure standing near the door.

Simon Whitelaw smiled, stepping forward eagerly when she held out her hand to him. He sat down on the opposite side of the bed from his uncle and took her hand, pressing a gentlemanly kiss against it much to Valentine Whitelaw's astonishment.

"I think I aged a lifetime when we rode up and heard the screaming, then saw you and Dulcie disappearing in that black water," he said with a rueful look. "I hadn't thought I could be more frightened than when I visited Highcross and discovered you'd run away. I
very
nearly became the one to kill Hartwell Barclay that day," Simon admitted, and glancing over at Valentine, he was startled to see his uncle's
expression and
, rather belatedly, he realized he was still holding Lily's hand with both of his.

He flushed uncomfortably and stood up. "I know you must be tired, Lily. I'm so pleased to see you and know that you are going to be all right. I don't think I've slept in days worrying about you
-
-and Dulcie and Tristram, of course," he finished lamely.

"You probably
won’t
get any sleep tonight either," Tristram said. "We've got Cisco in our room."

Simon looked bewildered until he realized Tristram was referring to the parrot, and he laughed, for he wouldn't mind losing sleep to that parrot since he knew it meant Lily was sleeping peacefully in the next room. His gaze drifted to where she sat in the bed, her long hair cascading over her bare shoulders, and as Dulcie moved into a better position in Lily's arms, Simon's mouth opened and he gulped as he caught sight of the curve of a creamy breast.

"Where were the Odells when you left them?" Valentine asked Simon rather sharply, not having missed his nephew's admiring gaze.

"Down in the taproom. I've never seen anyone drink as many tankards of ale as that one."

"Fairfax?" Tristram said. "He holds the record in all of the shire," Tristram said proudly.

"No, the other one, the short one. Farley. Don't know where he's putting it," Simon puzzled, his eyes still lingering on Lily. Although she had pulled the blanket higher, he had never seen a more breathtaking sight than this woman with her hair flowing free over bare shoulders.

"Do you think Farley would remember where he put that puppet?" Valentine asked, rising from the bed and coming to stand by his nephew's side, effectively blocking Simon's view of Lily.

"I'm not certain he even remembers his name," Simon said, trying to glance around his uncle. He'd never before realized quite how wide Valentine's shoulders were, and irritatingly so, he thought.

"Why don't we go down and see if he does before the inn runs out of ale?" Valentine suggested. "I'm curious about that puppet."

"The one from our puppet show. The evil witch!" Dulcie squealed, sending Cappie beneath the pillows.

"Well, if he doesn't, I bet Tillie will know," Simon suggested. "All of the trunks and things from the cart are in the Odells' room."

"Where is Tillie? Lying down?" Valentine asked, for he'd never seen a woman so alarmingly pregnant.

"No, she hasn't left the table since we arrived, except to help Lily into bed. I've never seen a woman eat so much," Simon remarked, remembering the innkeeper's expression when the woman had asked for another meat pie after the two she'd put away practically by herself.

"Now that I know you are feeling better, Lily, I think I might go and get myself a couple of tarts before Tillie finishes that meat pie," Tristram said worriedly, feeling hungry now.

"Can I bring you something, Lily?" Simon inquired solicitously.

"Thank you, but Tillie is going to bring me something later."

Tristram glanced back, his expression conveying doubt that there would be anything left in the kitchens. "I'll save you a tart, Lily," he offered generously.

"I hope when we return to London-
-
and after everything has been settled at Highcross-
-
that you and Dulcie and Tristram will come to visit me at Whiteswood, Lily," Simon said shyly. "Mother and Sir William have Riverhurst now, so
.
.
.
well, I'd like to show you around the house and the lands. I know you'd love it."

"Can we really, Lily? When?" Tristram demanded, winning looks of appreciation and irritation from the respective younger and elder Whitelaws.

"We'll look forward to that, Simon," Lily responded.

"Shall we go, Simon?" Valentine requested, his hand closing around his
nephew’s bony
elbow to speed him to the door.

"Good night, Lily," Simon managed to call over his shoulder, catching one last glance before being hustled from the room.

"I'll have the innkeeper prepare you something light," Valentine said before he followed Simon's lanky figure from the room.

"I won't forget the tart, Lily," Tristram promised, hurrying out as Valentine remained holding the door, a less than patient look on his face.

"Lily? Will you tell me a story?"

"What do you want to hear?" Lily asked.

"I want to hear about the dancing stars. Then, I want to hear about the wild white horses," she requested, settling herself more comfortably, while Raphael took the opportunity to jump up on the foot of the bed, his soulful glance begging not to be sent from the comfort of the soft mattress and blankets; after all, he'd loyally followed his mistress far from home.

"Very well," Lily said, resting her chin on top of Dulcie's head. "Once there was a twinkling star that loved to dance and there was this little girl who was born under it, and she loved to dance, too
.
.
."

Valentine Whitelaw wasn't gone more than fifteen minutes. He had managed to leave the others downstairs, slipping away unnoticed while Simon had been trying to engage a bleary-eyed Farley Odell in conversation, and had returned with a light repast for Lily. He now stood just inside the door and listened to her soft voice telling the mythical tale. Lily hadn't heard
him
enter and was continuing
uninterrupted
with the story of the wild white horses led by Prince Basil and Sweet rose. Valentine Whitelaw's heart missed a beat when Lily described the witch's treachery in abandoning Prince Basil on the island in the
Indies
and of the plot to assassinate the queen.

Dulcie was sound asleep, her dark head resting against Lily's should, when Lily finished the tale. Lily had just rested her head against the pillows when she became aware of Valentine's presence near the door. She glanced over her eyes widening in surprise.

"You startled me. I did not hear you enter."

"I didn't want to disturb you."

"I see you found the puppet," Lily commented, spying the ugly creature's face tucked beneath his arm.

"Yes, I found him," Valentine said, his arm tightening around the puppet's neck. "I wanted to hear the end of your tale. Where did you learn that story, Lily?" he asked in a conversational tone.

"It was one that Basil told us while on the island."

Valentine Whitelaw placed the tray and the puppet down on the bedside table and stood staring down at Lily, his turquoise eyes glowing with excitement. "You don't realize that truth yet, do you? My god, I wish I could have seen Valchamp's face when he heard the tale. He must have been stunned watching your not-so-innocent little puppet show revealing all of his secrets for the whole world to hear. I'll wager 'twas he who burned down your booth so no one else would learn the truth."

"Learn what? It is just a fable Basil told to amuse us. I've heard it since I was seven."

"That is why you never understood. You always thought it just a fable, a story Basil made up, but don't you see, Lily? Were it anyone else but Basil who told you this tale, I would think it mere fantasy. But Basil never did anything, Lily, without a reason. He knew exactly what he was doing when he told you that tale.
He was giving you some very important information, but he was also protecting you, or so he thought, by the manner in which he told you. The story parallels what happened to all of you on that island and explains why you were on that island, Lily.
By having the jinni unmasked as the witch, and by having that witch resemble Sir Raymond Valchamps, Basil was sending the warning that Sir Raymond is a traitor. He is plotting to assassinate the queen. I've always suspected that Basil was aboard your father's ship because he'd been sent by Lord Burghley and Walsingham. I am certain he must have been gathering information for them about Santo Domingo and whatever else he could learn on this journey. Somehow Basil discovered Sir Raymond's involvement in a plot to assassinate Elizabeth. I wonder now if Sir Raymond was not in reality trying to murder Her Majesty the day he claimed he was trying to save her life," Valentine speculated, still disbelieving the enormity of the plot he'd just uncovered. "Basil knew the truth, Lily. He suspected he would never live to reveal it to Lord Burghley and warn the queen of the danger she was in. So he told you an innocent fable, hoping that one day you might be rescued and the tale would be heard.

"Sir Raymond himself has convinced me that it is more than a fable. Why else, unless this story of yours is the truth, would Sir Raymond concern himself with it? He has now tried to kill you twice."

"Twice? The only time I've been attacked by hi was at the pool," Lily said, beginning to remember more about Basil's tale than even Valentine suspected.

"He killed the wrong girl at the fair, Lily. This gypsy girl who was murdered by a strange man in the mob that attacked the camp. I think it was supposed to be you. But you were away, waiting for me," Valentine reminded her.

"My gown! Navarre had stolen it and was wearing it."

"Yes, and Mustafa saw Sir Raymond at the camp that night paying off two men. Damn!" Valentine said. "If only we had proof. Even though I know it must be true, no one else will believe a fable."

"I saw Sir Raymond when he attacked me," she reminded him. "I can swear to that."

"Your word against his. I fear, my dear, that his word would carry more credence than yours. Basil is the only one who could prove Sir Raymond's guilt," Valentine said, "and he is dead. I wish we had that journal."

"The journal?" Lily asked, glancing up quickly, a strange look crossing her face.