Keeping Kinley

by Annette K. Larsen

  At least he didn’t make fun of me, so I told him about some of the dances and the number of people and the number of candles and the amount of food. As we neared the village, I pointed to the turn I wished him to take. “I need to stop by and see Suzannah for a moment.”

  He looked at me, his expression unreadable, then turned toward Suzannah’s house without a word. The roads were the same we’d traveled my entire life until we’d moved out to our little farm and orchard. I’d spend my childhood running around the village lanes, fetching water from the well and playing in the town square with the other children. We passed by the lane that would have led to our old home, close to the castle. I had wonderful memories of that home, but I was grateful we had the opportunity to live and work on the land we leased now. Or, at least, I had been able to—before.

  I shook off that melancholy thought as we pulled up outside Suzannah’s home. Fynn surprised me by jumping to the ground first and offering his hand to help me down. Usually he would have waited in the wagon, looking either bored or anxious to leave. I gave him a questioning look, but he leaned back against the wagon and directed his gaze to the ground.

  My puzzlement increased, but I chose to ignore his odd behavior and hurried to the front door. Suzannah answered my knock, still dusting flour from her hands. Her face lit up, and she threw her arms around me in a hug. “You came to see me!”

  I hugged her in return. “I can’t stay too long since Fynn needs to get home to do chores.”

  Her eyes glanced to Fynn for the briefest of moments before looking away. “Of course.” She gave her apron a firm swipe then shook her hair off her face. “How was your birthday?” she asked, though her enthusiasm was now forced.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, before whispering, “Ella and Gavin took me to a dance at the palace!”

  Her eyes widened, and her jaw went slack. After several moments of gaping, she grabbed my hand and towed me to the room that she shared with her younger sister. “Tell me everything.”

  “Rylan was there,” I blurted, and her eyes went even wider. I spilled out the entire story, as quickly as possible, and she interrupted only to ask hushed questions.

  In the end, she sat back in awe. “I can’t believe you disguised yourself and snuck into the palace.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” I said in my defense, though I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

  “It sounds terrifying.”

  “Maybe a little, but mostly it was . . . unbelievable.”

  “So really, none of the Mantocks recognized you?”

  Someone pounded on the door. “Suzannah, I need your help in the kitchen,” her mother called through the door.

  “Coming,” she called as she jumped up, then turned to me. “I’ll walk you out.”

  We left her room, and her mother seemed surprised to see me. “Oh. Kinley, dear. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I’m on my way out. Thank you for letting me visit with Suzannah. I didn’t mean to keep her from her work.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry over it.” Then, turning to Suzannah, she added, “Come help after you’ve seen Kinley out.”

  “Yes, Mama.” She looped her arm through mine and headed to the door. “I hate that I don’t get to see you much anymore.”

  I shrugged. “I know. But we do what we must.”

  As we approached the wagon, Fynn straightened from where he leaned against it, shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes were on Suzannah, but they looked unsure in a way I had never seen before. “Morning, Suze,” he said without a trace of cockiness or teasing.

  “Morning,” she said with barely a glance at him before turning her attention back to me. “Hopefully on your next day off there will be a dance in the square. I miss having you there with me.”

  “I miss being there,” I admitted, though my attention was diverted by the odd shift in Suzannah and Fynn’s behavior toward each other. Had Fynn actually taken my scolding seriously?

  “I’m happy to keep you company at the dances, Suzannah,” Fynn offered.

  The look she gave him was not dismissive, but it was certainly lacking warmth. “You’re not my brother, Fynn. You don’t have to look out for me.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he mumbled toward the ground.

  Suzannah ignored him. “Don’t let that awful housekeeper mistreat you.”

  “I can handle Mrs. Tate.” I hoped. In truth, I’d considered going to Bram several times but decided against it. Though she was strict, she had not been accusatory or threatening since he had reprimanded her. I tilted my head toward the door. “Your mother needs you. I’ll come again soon.”

  Her smile was doubtful. “So you say.”

  Fynn gave me a hand up into the wagon, then pinched the brim of his hat as he nodded to Suzannah.

  When he turned his back to her, Suzannah’s expression slipped from disinterest to sadness. I waved as we pulled away.

  I studied Fynn’s profile for several moments before asking, “What happened between you and Suzannah?”

  “It’s not your concern,” he said, though it didn’t sound defensive.

  I begged to differ, since she was my most cherished friend, but I let it go, not wanting to argue.

  The day spent with my family was the same as usual. It was a relief to be home and took tremendous effort to leave again. But I was determined to enjoy their company and then put in the effort required to—hopefully—appease Mrs. Tate.

  ✼ ✼ ✼

  The next week felt routine, almost as if I was getting used to this new version of my life. That is, until there was a knock at the door.

  I stepped into the hallway so that I could assist in taking coats and hats if it were a large party. The butler opened the door, and a single gentleman stepped inside.

  “Good day, sir,” the butler greeted, holding out his hand.

  “Good day,” the man replied as he swept off his hat.

  I stopped breathing, then turned away and disappeared around the corner. Why? Why, why, why was Rylan here? It couldn’t be to see me. That would be ludicrous, unheard of, and damaging to us both. He didn’t even know that I worked here. Or, at least, he shouldn’t.

  It must be something else. I peeked back around the corner in time to see Lady Mantock approach him. “Mr. Baylor, how good to see you again.”

  “And you, Lady Mantock.” He bowed.

  She waved toward the stairs with a smile that was a bit too eager. “Aveline will be down shortly.”

  Aveline? He was here to see Aveline? But . . .

  “She was so pleased to receive your invitation, and the weather is simply perfect for taking a drive.”

  “Indeed, my lady.”

  They both turned toward the stairs, where I assume Aveline had appeared. Her voice carried to me, breathless with excitement. “Oh, Mr. Baylor. It is good to see you!” She came into view at the bottom of the stairs and sank into a curtsy, her frothy, lace-trimmed dress floating about her.

  She was the picture of young innocence and enthusiasm. She was lovely.

  “And you, miss,” he replied with a bow before gesturing to the front door. “Shall we be on our way?”

  “Oh, yes!” she enthused.

  Then they were gone, and I was dumbfounded.

  I shut my eyes against the pain that lanced through me, the knowledge of being cast aside and unwanted crushing my chest. Then the anger came. I had defended him! When Gavin told me he couldn’t be trusted, I had insisted there was an explanation for his behavior. When Aveline gossiped about his attention to other girls, I had thought she was exaggerating. When he had shown up at a royal ball with a woman on his arm, I had been stupid enough to believe his excuse that he had done it at his father’s request.

  I had doubted him, yes. But I had still hoped—desperately hoped—that he would prove himself to be better than he seemed. And now he came to the house where I was a lowly, invisible servant and whisked Aveline off for a country drive. Ye
s, I was angry.

  I used that anger to propel me into action. Angry cleaning made me extraordinarily efficient as I tidied and dusted, organized and scrubbed. I ran out of my own duties and was about to go down to the kitchens to offer my assistance there when I heard the clatter of hooves across the drive. I was in the front parlor, frozen with indecision. Part of me wanted to go over to the window and watch their return. Another part of me realized that that would be unnecessary torture.

  I went to the window. It was inevitable.

  Rylan pulled his two horses to a stop. Aveline’s hands wrapped around his arm, holding him in place for several moments as she continued to speak. When she released him, he jumped down and circled around the carriage, giving each of his horses a pat as he passed, then reached up to help Aveline down. She was windblown and ethereal, her face rosy from wind or exhilaration or just from being in Rylan’s charming presence. Either way, they made a picturesque image as she leaned toward him, placing her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her down. She didn’t step away but put a hand up to hold her hat in place and tipped her head back to smile at him.

  He said something to make her laugh, and I cringed. Then they both turned toward the front door, ambling side by side, seeming in no hurry to end their time together.

  I dropped the curtain and hurried out of the parlor, down the corridor, and into the kitchen at the back of the house. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore.

  ✼ ✼ ✼

  I was quiet on the drive home, and for once, Fynn let me be. We made the entire drive without saying more than a few sentences to each other. When he pulled the cart to a stop, I jumped down on my own and went inside to greet my parents and fill up on my mother’s cooking.

  After eating, I went out to the orchard. I’m not certain why. I had wandered through it on each of my days at home, and it always looked the same, but I was pulled there anyway, needing the reassurance it always gave me.

  I caught sight of a fluttering piece of paper and narrowed my eyes at the note shoved in a crevice of a tree. I stomped over to it, plucked it from its hiding spot, and glared at it. I didn’t want to read it, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, either. Back in my room, I pulled the box from under my bed—the one with the seashell, the wax carvings, and his other missives—and dropped the note in, unopened. Perhaps I would read it another time, but right now, I couldn’t. No doubt his words would be sweet and encouraging and give me all sorts of hope. But I didn’t know if I could afford to have hope in Rylan. My heart desperately wanted to trust him, but my head told me that would be utterly foolish, considering the things I’d seen and heard. I didn’t want to judge him too quickly, but I also didn’t want to be naive.

  What claim do I really have on him? He had promised me nothing. Still, I hadn’t imagined the feelings between us. The laughter had been real. The kisses had been sweet. The understanding had been profound.

  Hadn’t they?

  I shut the box, sliding it under the bed where I could pretend it didn’t exist.

  Fynn knocked on my open door, jutting his chin toward the box now tucked beneath my bed. “What’s that?”

  “Not your concern,” I answered, still kneeling in front of my bed.

  He huffed. “Fine then. Suzannah wanted me to tell you that there is a dance tonight. She told me that I have to make certain you go. I’m not going to have to drag you, am I?”

  “No, of course not. I told her I would go if they had one tonight.” Though honestly I didn’t want to go, which was depressing. I had never not wanted to go to a village dance before.

  “Good.” He left as abruptly as he had appeared.

  I should have just stood up and gone about my day, but having Rylan’s letter hidden away and unopened . . .

  I couldn’t do it. I pulled the box out and retrieved the letter, opening it with frustrated, jerky movements.

  Dear Kinley,

  I must apologize for my inattentiveness since your orchard burned. My father has kept me so occupied with matters of the estate that I found it impossible to get away and check on you for a full three weeks. Since then I have come several times, but you are never to be found. Seeing you at the palace was a relief. I was able to see that despite the heartbreak you have suffered, you are resilient, as I knew you would be.

  You mentioned in that first note that you had other endeavors that keep you occupied, but you forgot to tell me where you would be or what you would be doing. And I, being the dolt I am, forgot to ask you when we danced the other evening. Perhaps I can assist you as I did with your orchard. I am at your disposal, whatever you need. My father’s demands on my time are still heavy, but I will always find time if you need me.

  Yours,

  Rylan

  I threw the letter back in the box and slammed the lid shut. It had been everything I knew it would be. Sweet, encouraging, his words cast like a net to capture my heart. No doubt it would have succeeded had he not chosen to pursue Aveline. An unfortunate decision on his part if he hoped to keep up the charade with me.

  My mind whirled with possibilities, trying to conjure excuses and justification for his action, but I wouldn’t allow it. I had ignored the rumors, squashed every doubt, but now I had seen with my own eyes the truth of his actions, and I refused to be deceived further.

  I cleaned my room more thoroughly than ever before, working out my angry energy until I was finally able to set aside my hurt enough to join my family. The day passed too quickly, and we left for the dance as soon as dinner was cleaned up. My parents decided to stay at home instead of attending the dance. So it was only Fynn and me jostling along in the wagon. When we passed by the road that would have led to the square, I turned to him. “Where are you going?”

  “To pick up Suzannah.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize she wanted to ride with us.” It was odd since she lived close enough to easily walk. We had often walked home with her over the years, but that was due to the late hour that the dances always ended.

  He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I asked if I could escort her to the dance tonight.”

  I kept my mouth from smiling, but the rest of my face insisted on displaying my pleasure. “Did you now?”

  His eyes cut over to look at me. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

  “I deserve to be inordinately pleased with myself.” Responsibility for this miracle rested entirely with me after all.

  He heaved a long-suffering sigh, but I could see the way his mouth pulled up at the corners.

  My mood improved drastically, and I suddenly looked forward to the evening instead of dreading it. We stopped in front of Suzannah’s home, and I bit my lip and resisted the urge to bounce in my seat as Fynn hopped down. He fussed with his shirt and straightened his cap before approaching the door. Suzannah opened it and stepped out with a shyness that was unusual for her. Her father followed behind, giving Fynn a stern nod. Fynn shook his hand, though I could practically see the nerves coming off him.

  Suzannah slipped her hand around Fynn’s elbow, clutching her shawl together with the other hand.

  I had positioned myself far to one side of the seat, forcing Suzannah to sit in the middle. Fynn helped her up and she gave me a hug and then a smile filled with nervous excitement.

  We headed back toward the square, and I was glad Fynn and Suzannah had no trouble filling the silence with easy banter. We left the wagon by the blacksmith, and after jumping down, I hurried ahead, leaving the two of them to meander to the square on their own.

  I looked around for Janie but didn’t see her. There was a good chance that she wouldn’t be here, so I started looking for other friends instead. Zander was over by the fountain, and I started toward him, then realized he was standing close to Midge. They were deep in conversation, which was odd. Zander wasn’t much for conversation in general. I watched them a bit more and suspected there was a budding romance between them. I smiled, glad when I didn’t feel the least bit jealous.
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  I wandered through the crowd, joining the group of women beginning to gather on one side of the square. I spotted Lessi and Sophie and joined them. They were sisters—friends that I had grown up with. They greeted me and asked about my work with the Mantocks. They both worked for another noble family, so we exchanged bits of gossip we’d heard from our employers, giggling at the ridiculousness of the more obvious exaggerations. Midge and Suzannah joined our little gathering as the band was coaxing the first notes from their instruments. Midge looked at me with worry, probably because Zander had had eyes for me a couple of months ago. I gave her a big grin and nudged her elbow with mine. “Zander seems smitten with you.”

  Her body sank in relief. “He’s so lovely to talk with.”

  Suzannah pulled me close to her and whispered in my ear, “Did I hear that right? Midge and Brawn?”

  I laughed at the nickname but only had time to nod before the dance started.

  The five of us ran forward as one, holding hands to circle together before spinning away, joining with different partners or groups. Fynn swept Suzannah away as soon as he found her, and it wasn’t long before Lessi was twirling around the floor with a lad. Sophie, Midge, and I combined with another group, circling together as the women swished their skirts and the men slapped a rhythm on their thighs. Sophie and I hooked elbows and spun around after Midge found Zander. Then even Sophie disappeared, claimed by Thaddeus, so I danced my way over to a group who had all put their right hands together in the middle and were circling like the spokes of a wheel.

  When it ended, I breathed deep, loving the beautiful chaos of the first dance. The next song started, and I moved to the edge of the square, recognizing it as a dance for couples.

  Lessi joined me, and we watched the dancers, speculating on how long it might take for Zander and Midge to become engaged.

  “I was surprised when I saw Fynn and Suzannah looking so cozy,” she remarked with a look of curiosity.

  “It’s new, and I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “You don’t mind your brother courting your best friend?”