Wild Bells to the Wild Sky

by Laurie McBain

  Lily slipped the ring on her finger. It fit snugly; it would fit perfectly on Dulcie's.

  " 'Tis a finely crafted ring," Romney Lee murmured close against Lily's ear. "An unusual design."

  Lily glanced up in surprise.

  "This, too, is for the little dark-haired one?" he asked curiously.

  "Yes, my sister," Lily replied with a defiant stare into his eyes, daring him to speak further about Dulcie.

  "I have often seen her with you," was all he said, his eyes wandering over her face and hair.

  "Otho! Come!" Ann Fordham called to her son, who, even after his mother and sister had completed their business and stepped away, had remained behind, ogling Lily Christian.

  "Better run along, Otho. There's a good lad," Romney Lee said dismissingly as he glanced at the awkward boy who'd been breathing down the back of his neck for the past few minutes.

  "Ah . . . ah . . . M-Mistress L-Lily, I-I . . ."

  "Otho! Come here at once!" the strident tones echoed across the room.

  Lily Christian took pity on the young man and smiled at him. With his mouth dropping open in surprise, Otho Fordham gulped, then doffing his hat, he backed away. First he tripped over a sack of beans, then tumbled over a barrel of flour, before finding his mother's big toe with the heel of his shoe as he bolted out the door.

  "You are too softhearted, Lily Francisca Christian," Romney Lee said with a rough laugh, jealous of the smile she had wasted on that beef-witted boy when she had not shared such a look with him.

  At her startled look, Romney Lee smiled. "You do not remember, but 'twas I who sold the big white to your father. I was very young then, uncertain of myself and how to bargain. But your father, he did not try to cheat me. He paid me a fair price for the horse. 'Twas my first sale. You came running out of the house while he was sitting on the white's back and you demanded to ride too. You were very persistent. I can remember you stomping your foot, your hands placed on your hips as you stared up at him. He laughed, saying he could never deny his Lily Francisca anything, and asked me to lift you up to him," Romney Lee said, a strange look entering his deep blue eyes as he remembered that day. "You reached out your arms to me and smiled. Such big green eyes. You were very sweet, Lily Francisca."

  Lily glanced away, made uncomfortable by his familiarity, for she had never spoken to him before. She had only seen Romney Lee from a distance, and her opinion of him had been formed from gossip she had overheard from the villagers and servants at Highcross Court.

  "I was very saddened to hear about your father's ship going down. He was a fine man. I remember your mother. Until recently, I have always thought her one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I also remembered that little girl who let me hold her, smiling at me as if I were no different from anyone else. I was very unhappy to think she would not be coming home."

  Curious, Lily glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief instant before she glanced away again. "Why would I have looked at you any differently?"

  Romney Lee shook his head. "that you do not know, even now, is the reason," he replied.

  "Reckon ye'll be leavin' fairly soon what with spring comin' on in a couple of months?" Benjamin Stubbles said as he began to wrap up the cloak and gown. "Was there not some trouble at the St. Frideswide's Fair last year? Ye were there, weren't ye Rom?"

  "Now, Ben, you know there is always a bit of high-spirited rowdiness around a fair. 'Twouldn't be worth goin' otherwise. Sometimes a man can even profit handsomely during such confusion," Romney Lee replied with the kind of smile that would have had old Ben Stubbles betting a fortune that Romney Lee and his friends had been behind most of that confusion. And Ben Stubbles knew that the knife Romney Lee kept concealed up his sleeve would have flashed more than once doing its master's bidding.

  "Perhaps ye won't be leavin' East Highford so soon this time, eh, Rom?" Jane asked with a sly glance between Romney and Lily Christian, pleased to see him looking a trifle disconcerted for once. "And Mistress Lily, ye'll be observin' the rites of St. Agnes's Eve? There must be a dozen young gentlemen who'll be hopin' ye'll be dreamin' of them this eve," she added with a wink at Romney Lee.

  "Perhaps there is just one man that Lily Francisca Christian dreams of?" Romney inquired, his dark eyes searching her face for the truth of her feelings. His curiosity was to remain unsatisfied. Except for a slight flush staining her cheeks, whatever secrets Lily's heart held remained hers to keep.

  "Of course, 'tis no secret whom Tillie is dreamin' of," Jane said, glancing at the young maid standing behind Lily. "Wasn't I seein' Farley Odell enterin' the Oaks not more than ten minutes past?" she said, eyeing with interest the surge of red that now came into Tillie's thin cheeks when one of the footmen from Highcross was mentioned. "Of course, there's been many who've tried to get one of them Odell brothers to wed them. I hope ye've been careful with the likes of that dark-haired one. He might be the least handsome of the two, but he's the wiliest and has often had a maid walkin' with him in the greenwood before the thought has even entered Fairfax's head."

  "Remembering my last encounter with the big fair-haired one, I would say that having brains would just be a hindrance to his natural instincts," Romney said, recalling the ham-fist that had swung his way.

  "They're both good lads, even if they are always a step ahead of trouble. Always were the mischievous ones, ever since their mother ran off with that tinker. Though she claimed they were both Tom Odell's sons, I'd swear Fairfax is the spittin' image of the Reverend John Henderson. Ye remember, Jane, he was a big, fair-haired man. When he was parson, 'twas the only time I can remember Leticia Odell goin' to church. Heartbroken, she was, when he signed on with Geoffrey Christian. Ah, well. Now, Mistress Lily, ye be pleased then with the ring?"

  "Yes, you did a splendid job. I feel my mother would be very pleased that Dulcie will be wearing it. How much do I owe you, Master Stubbles?" Lily asked.

  "Ah, that be fine. Thank you, mistress," he said, quickly counting the generous amount Lily had placed on the counter. Handing the package to Tillie, he said, "I thought I saw the lad, young Master Tristram, running by a few minutes ago. Hope he don't break his neck on them slick cobbles. I was hopin' he'd be comin' in to sample some of Jane's gingerbread."

  "Made a fresh batch this morning', I did. Figured the lad would be comin' in to town with ye," she explained. "Never knew a lad who likes sweets quite like young Master Tristram. Such a pretty boy, too," she added, and Lily was thankful Tristram hadn't been in the shop to hear such aspersions cast against his masculinity.

  "Farley let him drive the cart into town. I told him not to wander off. I suppose he tired of waiting, especially if Farley left him there to go to the Oaks."

  "I s'pose he's gettin' too old to enjoy gingerbread. Be losin' him to the Oaks soon enough, too, I reckon," Ben Stubbles said with a sigh.

  "I think there may still be some time left, Master Stubbles, so I'll take a couple of pieces. I am certain he will complain of hunger before we reach Highcross," Lily said, placing enough coins on the counter for half a dozen pieces when she saw Tillie lick her lips, and, after all, Jane Stubbles did make the best gingerbread in the county and it was a long ride back to Highcross.

  "Now, Mistress Lily," he said, pushing back the coins. "Jane made those pieces especially for the lad. No payin' fer them."

  "Just these extra ones, then," Lily said, pushing back most of the coins.

  "She's a stubborn lass, Ben Stubbles," Romney murmured. "I don't s'pose your heart is big enough, Mistress Lily, to share something sweet with a poor gypsy lad?" Romney Lee's dark blue eyes were full of entreaty.

  "Beware, Mistress Lily. This is when Romney Lee is his most dangerous. Loves t'have the maids feelin' sorry fer him. Charm the devil, and steal yer first kiss and more, he will, if he don't watch out," Jane warned Lily, despite Romney's scowling face as he watched a suspicious look come into those green eyes.

  Taking the package of gingerbread, Lily pushed a giggling Til
lie toward the door. Lily bid the Stubbleses a good afternoon, while a grinning Romney Lee received a polite nod.

  "And what can we be doin' fer ye, Rom?" Ben Stubbles asked.

  But Romney Lee was already halfway to the door and called back over his should, "I just came in to get out of the rain, Ben," Then he was gone.

  The rain had stopped, but the wind continued to swirl along High Street as Lily hurried along the slippery cobblestones toward the stables where she had left the cart and her horse.

  "I hope Farley has returned. I'd rather not linger in the village now that the rains have stopped. We might be able to reach Highcross before another downpour," Lily said worriedly, increasing her pace as she heard a distant rumble of thunder.

  "Ye want me to call in at the Oaks, Mistress Lily?" Tillie offered as she scampered along beside, her arms full of packages and her mind full of dreams of Farley Odell. Unable to see where she placed her feet, she slipped and would have fallen except for a quick hand that reached out and steadied her.

  The packages, however, did not fare so well and lay scattered across the muddied lane. "You haven't hurt yourself, have you, Tillie?" Lily asked out of habit, for the young maid was always stumbling into something, bumping her shin, or stubbing her toe. In fact, Tillie was a menace to be around, Lily thought as she bent down to gather the packages up before they were ruined, but Romney Lee was faster and soon had them held firmly in his grasp.

  "Oh, I'm fine, mistress, thanks to him," Tillie said breathlessly, risking a quick glance at the man who'd save her from taking a spill. She'd never been so close to him before. She could scarcely believe he was even more handsome than she'd thought. He was certainly tall, she realized as she stared up into these dark blue eyes. And had the softest-looking chestnut curls. And when he grinned, as he was doing now, his teeth gleamed against the darkness of his skin and beard. He had the longest, thickest lashes, and he even wore a sparkling jewel in one ear. Tillie sighed as she tested her ankle for a sprain. Somehow she couldn't quite see Farley wearing a ruby in one ear.

  "Good as new. Won't stop me scrubbin' the hall tomorrow," she said with a grin.

  "Why don't you go warn Farley Odell that Mistress Lily is wanting to leave now?" Romney advised, his smile leaving Tillie breathless and wondering who Farley Odell was. "I'll see your mistress safely to the stables."

  "Thank you, but that is not necessary," Lily began, but Tillie had already taken off down the lane, unmindful of her steps again as she hurried to the Oaks. "Please, I can take the packages now," Lily protested, holding out her hand.

  Romney Lee smiled as he placed his hand beneath her arm and led her along High Street. But when he became aware of the curious stares following their progress, he dropped her arm and said, "I will leave you."

  Lily glanced at him in surprise, wondering at suck fickleness. Seeing her puzzlement, Romney laughed harshly. "I would walk by your side forever, Mistress Lily, but, alas, I am not considered a proper escort for a young woman of good reputation," he explained, boldly returning a woman's rude stare until, affronted, she looked away. "I would not wish to cause you any trouble."

  Lily surprised him with her laughter. "As far as Mistress Fordham is concerned, I have little reputation to preserve. And I fear her tongue has already destroyed that. She has never cared for me or for my brother and sister. I wonder if she has ever liked any of my family. I truly do not understand her hatred of us. We have never wished her or anyone in this village ill, and yet many persist in being suspicious of us."

  "It is because you are different from them, Lily Christian. They are frightened of things they do not understand. The superstitions of old fill their minds and they forget all that they have learned and know to be the truth. We gypsies get blamed for drought, famine, flood, and many a theft that we had nothing to do with," he said with a bitter smile as he doffed his hat to a woman walking by, the gesture more mocking than gentlemanly.

  "Why do you allow them to treat you like that? You are only part gypsy. You speak in a refined manner and do not look like--" Lily began, then paused uncertainly. "I am sorry. I should have not said that."

  "I do not look that much like a gypsy, and so I could pretend to be a gentleman? You have not offended me," he said. "But Mistress Fordham was right about one thing. You cannot change what you are, even if you wished to. I am proud, Lily Francisca. And so are you. Would you change the way you act just because of the disapproval of some narrow-minded, mean-thinking woman? Would you conceal that beautiful red hair of yours merely because someone else thought it unseemly? No, I do not think so," Romney Lee said, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Out of defiance you would braid bright ribbons in your hair just to make it all the more noticeable and all the prettier."

  Lily met his gaze openly. He was so different from what she had thought he would be like. She had been mistaken about him, she realized, ashamed. She had been guilty of being just like the villagers who'd condemned her and her family so unfairly.

  "My father might have been an Englishman, but I am still a gypsy. I cannot deny what I am. Neither could my mother, although she tried to be what my father wanted in a wife. He was a well-educated man, a gentleman some might have said. He was a schoolmaster. We lived in a small house in Rye. My mother tried very hard to become like the other women of the village, but they never accepted her. She was too different from them. She could not change what she was. Gradually she began to lose her spirit. She grew thin and sad. I remember her weeping all of the time. I think even my father knew she would die if she did not go back to her family and her old way of life. We stayed with my father. I never saw her again.

  "I sometimes think my mother was the fortunate one. My sister and I were raised in a village, and yet we are gypsies. My father saw that we learned to read and write; but my mother spoke to us of many strange and wondrous things. We were also taught good manners so we might be accepted in polite society. My father had hopes that I would become a schoolmaster, but he forgot that others would not wish to have their children taught by a man whose mother was a gypsy. Besides, I would never have had the patience," he said with a mocking grin. "But I found that I possessed certain skills others did not, and I could put my mixed heritage to far more profitable pursuits. One day I am a gentleman . . . well, almost. And the very next day I am a gypsy, almost. I can move between villager and vagabond without causing too much suspicion for either. Strange that I should indeed have become a man of some importance and worth."

  As if divining her thoughts and her changing opinion about him, he raised a cautioning finger. "I am still a rogue, Lily Francisca Christian. Never think otherwise," he told her, and although he smiled, Lily knew it was meant as a warning.

  "How is the big white?" he asked suddenly. "I heard that he threw Hartwell Barclay many a time, until finally the new master of Highcross gave up trying to ride him. Rides a mule now, does he?"

  The corners of Lily's lips twitched ever so slightly, but Romney caught the movement. "I always thought the white was a smart horse, if a bit high-spirited. "Romney chuckled. "What did your father name him?"

  "Merry Andrew," she said, laughing at his surprised look. "My mother told me that my father always said that he thought the horse was laughing at him, and his efforts to ride him. He threw my father more than a few times too. But my father would never give up on him. He swore that no horse, especially one that was part buffoon, was going to get the best of him. They finally came to an agreement, although I am not certain Father would have called himself the victor. Merry would allow Father to ride him, but he had to be prepared to play Merry's game. Merry likes to bite. Mother said that my father was always rubbing his arm or should where Merry had nipped him. Merry may have gotten a little older, but unless you are very careful, he'll take a piece of you, then bare his teeth and laugh. But he only bites once; then he seems satisfied."

  Romney Lee stared at Lily in dismay. "I had no idea he was such a foul-dispositioned horse. I'm surprised your father didn't have me r
un out of the village for cheating him."

  "I think my father would have thanked you rather than cursed you. He liked the challenge of trying to ride Merry. Every time he rode him it was an adventure."

  "No wonder Hartwell Barclay never had a chance of succeeding. Why the devil hasn't he had the horse destroyed? I wouldn't think 'twas out of fondness that he hasn't," Romney said.

  Almost sadly, Lily smiled. "My father was a very unusual man. He left a provision in his will for the protection of Merry. He's to have a home at Highcross until his dying day. Then he's to be given a decent burial under the old oak in the west meadow. The solicitor must have thought my father crazed."

  Romney Lee's laughter drew the attention of several people standing in conversation nearby. "I would have given anything to have seen Hartwell Barclay's face when he heard that. But tell me, I have seen you riding the white. How is it that you have succeeded where others have failed?" he asked curiously.

  Lily shook her head in denial. "I haven't succeeded. Merry has gotten fat and lazy and just tolerates me," she disclaimed modestly. "I've my share of scars. 'Tis Cappie and Cisco he likes."

  Romney's frown of confusion wasn't unexpected and she continued. "The first time I approached him in the meadow, I had Cappie and Cisco with me. He was fascinated by them, and by me because I was with them. He was never thrown me. He will even let Cappie ride around on his back"

  "Ah, the monkey and parrot," Romney said with a smile of comprehension. He understood better now why the villagers were suspicious of Lily Christian.

  They had almost reached the stables when they heard a commotion coming from within. Recognizing one of the voices raised in anger, Lily hurried inside, but she was stopped short by the scene that met her horrified gaze.