"Leave it. As you said, Phoebe can tend to it in the morning."
"But, sir, Aunt Amelia will not be pleased if I left without first soaking up the water from her prize pine floors."
With a guiding hand in the middle of her back, he steered her to the door. "Do not fret—" The irritation was back in his voice. "—I can promise you that if it will ease your mind, and get you out of my room, I will gladly go down on my knees and do the cleaning myself."
"But—"
Julian pushed Lavender out the door and closed it behind her. Lavender almost laughed aloud. He had not been suspicious of her at all. In fact, he had been so impatient to be rid of her tiresome presence, he had offered to scrub the floor himself. Laughter bubbled up inside her as she tried to imagine His Grace on his knees. Even in jest, this was most probably the first time in Julian's life he had offered to go down on his knees for any reason.
Her heart was light as she made her way to her bedroom. For whatever the reason, he had come back! She paused on the landing, reflecting on the danger to herself and others if her identity became known to him. It did not appear that Julian Westfield connected her with the girl he had been with at Cornwallis's gala. Still, she would have to take every precaution to make him believe she was the prim, dispirited maiden who was afraid of her own shadow. A smile lit her blue eyes, and she wondered how much longer she could go about knocking over water buckets just to make him believe she was clumsy.
The curtains stirred restlessly at the window, and a soft breeze touched Julian's face as his weary body relaxed into the soft feather mattress. He was dreaming that he walked in a moonlit garden where something exciting was about to happen that sent joy throbbing through his blood. He could feel a soft hand clasp his, and he looked down at the lovely face that smiled up at him.
"I have been searching everywhere for you," he said in a meaningful voice. "Why did you run away from me that night in the garden?"
Her beautiful eyes widened and she shook her head. "You must know I cannot stay with you."
"But I want you to. 1 want you to be with me always."
"I cannot."
Julian pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to him. "Why can you not be with me, my dearest love?" His heart was pounding so hard he could scarcely catch his breath. Lowering his head, he covered her soft lips with his own. His head was spinning wildly, and he felt as if his heart would burst with happiness. When she jerked away from him, he reached out to her.
"Do not leave me again. I have been in torment wondering what had happened to you," he pleaded.
"I must go. Do you not know why?"
"Nothing in this world matters to me but the love I feel for you."
Mocking laughter rolled off her sweet lips, distorting her angelic face. "I cannot stay with you because I am your enemy, the Swallow. Have you forgotten that I am responsible for the death of your brother? You are supposed to hate me—not love me."
"No." His voice was uneven. "How can I hate where I love?”
"But I do not love you," she taunted. "I will use you as I have all the others who have helped me obtain what I want."
Julian's head rolled from side to side against his pillow. Even with his dead brother standing between them, he reached out to her. "I love you."
"Be warned, you must not love me or I shall destroy you as I did your brother!"
The love he felt for her suddenly turned to a hatred so strong it threatened to choke him. He reached for her with anger in his heart. "No matter where you go, I will follow. No matter where you hide, I will find you. Soon you will be in my power, and I shall destroy you. Never will you escape me, Swallow."
He watched her slowly fade until she was nothing more than a fine mist riding on the wind. He fought against the ache that tightened his heart—the yearning to hold her in his arms, the need to call her back.
Sitting up, he came full awake. His body was soaked with perspiration, and he got out of bed to stand before the window. "Damn you to hell, Swallow, I will make you pay twice over for my brother's life." Even as he spoke, he did not know if he wanted to punish her for his brother's sake, or because she had made a fool out of him!
Morning sunshine deepened into afternoon shadows, and the stillness was broken by the trill of a mockingbird. The garden door was open and the fresh lilac-scented breeze beckoned to Lavender as she sat on a footstool, winding a ball of wool for her aunt. Amelia Daymond was bent over her ornate mahogany desk, going over her household accounts.
Lavender watched Dimitri slither through the open doorway and scamper beneath the stool she was sitting upon. She glanced up to see if her aunt had noticed the cat's entry, and knowing she would disapprove, Lavender carefully scooped up the tiny animal and slipped him into the pocket of her striped apron.
Her aunt laid her quill aside and glanced up at Lavender. "It seems strange to me that Mr. West has been back for two days, and has yet to take a meal with us. One wonders what he does with his time."
Lavender finished one ball of wool, dropped it in a basket, and started on another. "I am sure I don't know, Aunt Amelia."
"Well, I can tell you what you want to know," a cheery voice spoke up from the garden door. Elizabeth, looking lovely in a light yellow dress, smiled at both ladies in turn. "My father has often seen your Mr. West going about town, sketching. On occasion he has been seen dining at Chowning's Tavern."
"Why ever would he throw away good money by eating tavern food, when he has already paid for the privilege of eating here?" Amelia wanted to know.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I am sure I don't know, Miss Daymond. It does seem a mystery to me." Her eyes moved to Lavender. "I have come to see if you would like to go to the shoemaker with me. I am having a pair of riding boots made up, and they need to measure my feet."
Lavender could feel Dimitri wriggling in her pocket and she thought it best to leave before the cat popped his head out and got them both in trouble with her aunt. "I would love to go with you, Elizabeth. Will you be needing me for the next hour, Aunt Amelia?"
"Go, go," the elder woman said, waving her hand impatiently. "However, I feel I should point out to you, Elizabeth, that I find it very frivolous to order boots for nothing better than riding a horse. I always found sensible shoes perform as well as a pair of worthless boots. Boots for young ladies are strictly worn for vanity's sake and nothing more."
Elizabeth was accustomed to Amelia Daymond's miserliness and preaching, so she was not in the least offended by her. "Mama always says I am a most vain creature, Miss Daymond. What can I do but admit to this one failing?"
Amelia nodded. "One would hope it is a trait you will outgrow." Her eyes fell on her niece. "The one good point that I admire in Lavender is her healthy attitude toward her looks. She knows she is no beauty, and does not advertise the fact by calling attention to her wardrobe. She is sensible enough to make use of my worn clothing. I always have them cut down to fit her and they have served her well for years."
At this point Elizabeth became most offended for her friend's sake. She ached to tell Amelia Daymond that beneath the plain clothing Lavender wore, there was a lovely young girl, if she would but take the pains to look closely at her. But when she saw the laughter in Lavender's eyes, she clamped her mouth together and wisely kept her unsolicited comment to herself.
"Shall we go?" Lavender asked, moving quickly out the door because already Dimitri was wriggling free of her pocket and now dropped to the ground. "I will not be gone long, Aunt Amelia," she said over her shoulder.
* * *
It was late afternoon as Lavender and Elizabeth walked in the garden, sipping sweet strawberry drinks Phoebe had made for them. "Can I ask you something, Lavender?" Elizabeth asked reflectively.
"Not if you are going to lecture me on how I dress," she answered, smiling.
"No, it has nothing to do with that. Although I would like to see you change the way you dress. I realized for the first time today that your aunt would n
ever allow you to spend money on new attire, even if you wanted to."
Lavender paused at the wooden table and benches beneath the shade of the grape arbor and sat down. "The way I choose to dress has nothing to do with my Aunt Amelia. Now, what did you want to ask me, Lizzy?"
"I was wondering how well you know Mr. West? I think he is so dashing and handsome—and so do all of our friends. They are all madly in love with him, and so envious of you because you are living in the same house with him."
Lavender ran her fingers down the side of her frosty glass. "I know very little about him personally." She could have said that she herself was madly in love with him, but she did not dare. Elizabeth was far too observant as it was.
"I know he comes from Georgia, Lavender, and he is an artist, but do you know nothing else about him?"
"Not much."
"Tell me everything you do know," Elizabeth eagerly urged.
Lavender's laughter rippled. "Well, let me see if I can sum him up for you," she said speculatively. "I know for a fact that he tops six feet, has broad shoulders, and obviously he is very presentable. His hair is black and his eyes are dark, he can be aloof and arrogant. .. and ... he is handsome of face. What else do you want to know about him?"
Elizabeth's head peeped around the latticework, and she waved Lavender to be silent. "Shh, I think someone is coming .. . Yes, there is. Oh, no—it is Mr. West! He must have stabled his horse and is coming this way!"
Lavender picked up the pewter pitcher that was filled with the frothy strawberry drink. "If it is your wish, Lizzy, I will invite him to have a drink with us, and you can meet him. Would you like that?"
Elizabeth blushed prettily, while her eyes sparkled. "No. .. yes, yes, I would like that very much. Shh, here he is now," she whispered.
Making sure her spectacles were in place and her hair was completely covered, Lavender stood up and walked to the path. As always when she saw Julian, her heart raced furiously. Acting the part of the strait-laced little mouse, she stammered when she spoke to him. "G—ood afternoon, Mr. West, I wonder if you would like to join my friend and . . . myself in a glass of strawberry cooler?"
Julian looked at Lavender with bored indifference. "No, I do not think so—" His eyes suddenly rested on the lovely creature who stood under the grape arbor, and he quickly reconsidered. "Well, perhaps I will join you for a short while if you will present me to your friend."
Lavender knew that he would never have consented to pass the time of day with her alone. She had so carefully cultivated the image of the little mouse, it was her fate to accept his cold indifference and contempt toward herself. She followed him under the shade of the arbor and presented him to her friend.
"Mr. West may I present Elizabeth Eldridge. Lizzy, this is Mr. West."
Julian looked deeply into the eyes of the young girl. As always, when he met a female in Williamsburg, he searched for anything that would tell him if she might be the woman he sought. However, it was immediately obvious to him that this girl was not the Swallow. She was shorter, her eyes and her hair were the wrong color, and while she was pretty, she was not beautiful like the Swallow.
He bowed politely and smiled at her. "1 am charmed, Miss Eldridge."
Her soft blue eyes sparkled, and a pretty blush tinged her cheeks. Now that she stood in the presence of Julian West, she was speechless. His dark eyes hinted at a sophistication and worldliness that she could only guess at. He was so far above the men of her acquaintances that she felt like a foolish young schoolgirl. He was by far the most handsome man she had ever met and, somehow, the most frightening.
Lavender handed Julian his drink. He thanked her with a curt nod and waited for both ladies to be seated before he sat down himself.
"It is a warm day, is it not, Miss Eldridge?" he said, taking a sip of the strawberry drink.
"Indeed it is, sir. Papa believes we will have a long summer this year. Of course we will all be glad of that, since our soldiers will not have to suffer the long winter, as they have in the past."
"Of course, that would be ideal," he readily agreed.
"I am told that you are an artist, Mr. West."
"I like to think of myself in that light, although 1 am still unrecognized for my skills."
Even though his words were polite, Lizzy felt he was stiff and withdrawn. She also noticed that his eyes often seemed to stray unwillingly to Lavender. "I would like very much to see your paintings sometime, although I admit that I know little about art, Mr. West."
He inclined his head. "I will be more than happy to show you my paintings the next time you call on Miss Daymond."
Lizzy smiled prettily. "I will look forward to that day, sir."
"I don't believe I have ever seen you, Miss Eldridge. If you have called on Miss Daymond, I must have been away at the time."
"I often come here, Mr. West. You see, Lavender is my best friend."
Julian glanced at Lavender, trying to see a quality in her that would make her compatible with the pretty Miss Eldridge. As usual, Lavender's eyes fluttered, and she would not meet his gaze. Her hands were demurely clasped in her lap, and her spectacles had slipped down on her nose, making her a pathetic-looking creature. No, it did not seem possible that the two girls could have much in common. While something about Lavender irritated him, she also struck a note of pity in his heart.
"This is a delicious drink, Miss Daymond," he said, thinking to draw her into the conversation.
"T—hank you, Mr. W—est," Lavender stammered purposely, causing Elizabeth to stare at her in puzzlement.
Julian placed his glass on the table and leaned back in the chair. Lavender was very aware his eyes were on her, and she dared not look up. "Miss Daymond, since you sometimes work at the Public Hospital, I have been meaning to ask you a question."
She pretended nervousness and twisted her apron in a knot. "I will answer if I can."
It vexed him that she would not look at him when he was speaking to her. "I was wondering if there were any other young ladies working there?"
A warning bell sounded in her mind, as it always did when anyone questioned her about her work at the hospital. She bit her bottom lip, still playing her part. "I. . . know of no other my age. Of course there is a large staff there, and I do not know them all."
"Lavender," Elizabeth said, drawing her attention. "Nicodemus is coming down the path and he appears to be in a hurry about something."
Lavender was grateful for the diversion, and quickly came to her feet. "I wonder if the two of you would excuse me for a moment. My aunt may need me. I will not be long."
Politely, Julian rose to his feet. While he and Elizabeth watched Lavender hurry away, neither of them missed seeing her trip on the brick walkway and almost fall. Julian thought she was being her usual clumsy self, while Lizzy wondered why Lavender was behaving so unlike herself.
"Can Miss Daymond really be a friend of yours?" Julian asked, all pretense of politeness gone from his voice.
Loyalty burned in Elizabeth's heart. "As I said, she is my best friend."
"If that is so, they why don't you try to help her? She is wasting away under her aunt's manipulation."
"Do you think I have not seen that for myself? However, I am surprised that you have noticed what her aunt is doing to her. Few people know the real Lavender, because she does not allow many people to get close to her. She is kind and truthful, a friend that one can always depend on."
Julian did not see Lavender Daymond in the same glowing terms. To him she appeared to be a bitter and pious young woman, who would grow to be a more bitter and more pious older woman. He knew she had been snooping in his room the night he had come upon her unexpectedly, and he did not admire that in her. Still, something about her tugged at his conscience. He decided to suggest to Miss Eldridge that she might be able to save her friend from Amelia Daymond.
"I have had this plan in the back of my mind, Mr. West," Lizzy said, boldly deciding to share her confidence with this man sh
e hardly knew. Lavender had acted so strangely in the presence of this man, it could be that she was smitten with him. She wanted to help her friend, and perhaps if Mr. West got to know the real Lavender, he would see her worth and catch a glimpse of the loveliness Lavender tried so hard to disguise.
Julian's eyes danced with humor, and Lizzy felt herself blush again. "What is your plan?" he wanted to know.
"My mother is holding a gala next week, and I wonder if you could persuade Lavender's aunt to allow her to come. It is my belief that if Lavender were to be exposed to merriment and fun, she might break out of her shell."
"What makes you think I can convince her aunt to allow her to attend your party?"
Elizabeth smiled up at him prettily. "I believe if you were to ask to escort Lavender to the gala, her aunt might consent. 1 believe she respects you a great deal."
"Are you issuing me an invitation to your gala, or pairing me up with your friend?"
Elizabeth's skin tingled when he looked at her through half-closed lashes. Yes, she thought to herself, this was the man for Lavender. "Both, Mr. West."
Julian balked at the idea of spending a whole evening with Lavender Daymond. But it seemed he had laid the groundwork, and there was no way to decline since it was he who had urged Miss Eldridge to help her friend. "I will do my best to persuade her aunt to let her go, but I believe I should point out that getting her to attend a dance will not straightaway change her life. Perhaps nothing can."
"Perhaps, but one has to start somewhere. I am going to do my best to get her out of that black gown."
Julian stood up. "I will attend your gala, but only if you agree to save me a dance, Miss Eldridge."
A shiver of delight moved down her spine as she looked into his dark eyes. "Of course, Mr. West. Are we not fellow conspirators?"
Lavender and Nicodemus met in the middle of the garden. She realized something was amiss the moment she saw the worried frown on his face. "Sarah sent word that you are needed," he said in a lowered voice.
Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Page 13