Love in a Mist

by Patricia Grasso

  “The same to you,” Keely said. “Please, sir, can you tell me which way to the stables?”

  “At the end of that path on the left.”

  Keely nodded but lingered a moment longer. “Rub evening primrose oil on your ankle. Then mix feverfew herbs with cider and drink it. Your pain will vanish in no time at all, and your limp will disappear.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Meade said. “I shall try it.”

  Odo and Hew sat together outside the duke’s stables. Both men grinned with relief when they saw Keely and stood to greet her.

  “Are you feeling better?” Odo asked.

  “Yes, thank you. Much better. And you?”

  “Your father has himself an excellent cook,” Hew answered, patting his belly. “We’ve stuffed ourselves so full, we can hardly move.”

  “The duke sired me,” Keely corrected him. “He never fathered me.”

  “Now, little girl—” Odo began but clamped his lips shut when she frowned at his intended lecture.

  Hew scratched his head in puzzlement. “Ain’t a sire the same as a father?”

  “What are we going to do about that earl?” Odo asked, ignoring his brother. “He lives next door.”

  “There’s nothing to fear,” Keely told them, sounding more confident than she felt. “I cast a spell of forgetfulness upon him, and I do believe you’ll be safe so long as you remain on His Grace’s property. Where’s Merlin? I want to see her.”

  Odo and Hew led Keely inside the stable. In one of the stalls on the right stood Merlin, who nickered a greeting and nudged her mistress.

  “Have you been a good girl?” Keely crooned as she stroked the horse’s neck. The sight of the pretty mare that Rhys had given her filled Keely with a longing for home. “I wish to leave this place and return to Wales.”

  “Madoc is there,” Hew reminded her.

  “Rhys will defend me against him.”

  “Now, little girl, you can’t leave yet,” Odo argued. “You’ve just found your father.”

  “The duke is a stranger to me.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t belong here.”

  “Give him and yourself a chance,” Odo said. “You’ll settle in.”

  “Will you stay here with me?”

  “For as long as you want,” Odo agreed.

  “Forever,” Hew added, brushing a tear from her cheek. “The duke has some fine-looking oak trees in his garden.”

  “I must meet them,” Keely said, brightening. She hugged Merlin, kissed her cousins’ cheeks, and left the stables.

  Autumn painted vivid colors within the perfect setting of the duke’s garden. Besides nature’s orange-, gold-, and red-leafed trees, an army of gardeners had landscaped the grounds into a rainbow of seasonal shades. Chrysanthemums in a variety of hues adorned the manicured garden, along with white baby’s breath, purple flowering cabbage, pink sweet alyssum, marigold, snapdragon, and fairy primrose.

  Keely relished the glorious array. Autumn excited her because of Samhuinn, the beginning of the Druid cycle of life when the gates of the year opened upon the past and the future. The thin veil between this earthly world and the beyond lifted for exactly three days. This Samhuinn was especially important because Megan had promised to return to her then.

  After wandering around and touching each oak as a means of introducing herself to it, Keely sat down on a stone bench. The duke had accepted her for what she was. Why was she unable to accord him the same respect? Harboring a grudge was so unlike her. Since that horrible, long-ago day when she’d been only five years old, Keely had yearned for her true father. It seemed like only yesterday . . .

  Having finished weaving her very first oak-leaf wreath, Keely dashed across the courtyard toward her father. How proud he would be when she presented him with the wreath!

  “Papa!” Keely called, pushing through the crowd of Lloyd clansmen in the courtyard. “I’ve made you a gift!” She held the wreath out to him.

  “Never call me Papa,” Madoc growled, brushing past her. “You’re his bastard.”

  Hurt and confused, Keely hung her head. Tears spilled over her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. What had she done wrong this time? Why didn’t Papa love her?

  A long shadow fell across her path. Keely looked up and saw twelve-year-old Rhys. “Are you still my brother?”

  “Never mind him,” Rhys said, crouching down to be eye level with her. “I am and always will be your brother. May I wear your pretty wreath?”

  Keely managed a faint smile, but her bottom lip quivered with the effort. As if she were crowning a king, Keely lifted the wreath and hung it around his neck.

  “Rhys, what’s a bastard?” she whispered.

  Before he could answer, another voice beside her said, “And I’m definitely your cousin.”

  Keely looked around and saw twelve-year-old Odo crouched beside her.

  “Me too,” ten-year-old Hew added.

  “You idiot,” Odo said, cuffing the side of his brother’s head‘ “If I’m her cousin, then you’re her cousin.”

  “Well, you didn‘t need to hit me. “

  “How else can I knock some sense into that head of yours?”

  “But you’re rattling my brain” Hew protested.

  “You ain’t got none,” Odo shot hack.

  Keely giggled, almost happy again. These overgrown cousins of hers acted silly, but she loved them all the more because of it.

  “Make me a wreath,” Odo begged.

  “Me too,” Hew added.

  “I’m first,” Odo said. “I’m older.”

  “But I’m handsomer,” Hew said.

  Keely looked at her brother. “Do you love me?” she asked, searching his eyes for the truth of the matter.

  “Yes, very much.” Rhys crushed her against his chest and hugged her tight.

  Keely nested her head against his shoulder and saw Madoc frowning at them across the courtyard. The name he’d called her echoed in her mind. Bastard . . .

  “Tears, my beauty?”

  Keely snapped her head up and stared into vivid emerald eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  Richard raised his brows at her impertinence “I live here. Remember?”

  “No, you live—”

  “Over there.” He gestured to the adjacent estate.

  “His Grace is inside,” she said.

  “His Grace?” Richard cocked a brow at her. “So formal a title for your own father?”

  Discouraging further conversation, Keely turned her head away and feigned disinterest, but her heart pounded within her breast. The earl presented a threat to her cousins, but she worried for her own peace of mind at the moment. His male beauty nearly blinded her. A woman could drown in his green eyes.

  “When we met at the tavern,” Richard asked, “why didn’t you tell me Ludlow was your father?”

  “I considered my father’s identity no business of yours,” Keely said without bothering to look at him. With luck, he’d go away.

  “My lord,” Richard said, lifting one booted foot and resting it beside her on the bench.

  “What?” Keely snapped her head around and nearly swooned at the incredible sight of his well-muscled leg and thigh perched so disconcertingly close to her.

  “You should have said, ‘’Twas no business of yours, my lord.’”

  “You may be a lord,” Keely told him, “but you aren’t my lord.”

  If she hadn’t been speaking so impertinently to him, Richard would have applauded her spirited wit. After all, few men at the Tudor court dared speak to the queen’s favorite in that rude manner.

  “I’ve brought you a welcoming gift,” he said, and offered her the single perfect orchid that he held in his hand.

  Keely gave him a bewildered smile and reached for it. When their fingers touched, an unfamiliar but wholly exciting sensation raced throughout her body. It was gone in an instant. Surprised by his kindness, Keely stared at the orchid. No man had ever given her such a wonderful gift as a pe
rfect flower. With the exception of her brother and cousins, no man had ever given her any gift. She’d never had a suitor. Madoc’s hatred of her served to discourage those who might be interested. No man would marry her without a dowry, and everyone knew her stepfather had no intention of offering one.

  “Please forgive my bad manners,” Keely apologized, feeling churlish. “Your sudden appearance startled me.”

  “Then you must forgive me,” Richard said, his voice a soft caress. “Never would I intentionally frighten or hurt you in any way.”

  His words did nothing to calm her fears. Keely couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from his. A thousand airy butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach, and her hands in her lap trembled.

  “I always thought only Englishmen and Madoc behaved rudely,” Keely said, unaware of the insult she’d leveled on him. “I see that I carry that flaw inside me.”

  “Who is Madoc?”

  “My stepfather.” Keely bit her bottom lip for a long moment. “Would you care to sit with me?”

  Richard gave her an easy smile and sat down beside her, so close his thigh teased her gown. The lady was definitely attracted, Richard concluded, but nervous because of her cousins. Somehow, he’d have to get around the fact that those two blockheads robbed him in Shropshire.

  What the hell was he thinking? Richard frowned. He’d been the innocent victim, not the damn perpetrator of that crime.

  “Is something wrong?” Keely asked.

  Richard gave himself a mental shake, then took her hand in his and kissed its sensitive palm. “You look especially lovely today, my lady.”

  Keely blushed and cast him an ambiguous smile.

  Was she shy? Richard wondered. Or sly?

  His gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts above the bodice of the gown. When his eyes lifted to hers, she looked disgruntled. A man would have had to be blind to miss the displeasure stamped across her delicate features.

  Richard had the good grace to flush, though amusement lit his eyes and made them glitter like emeralds. Never had he met a woman with such modesty. Even the queen’s virginal maids-of-honor were less restrained than this beauty.

  “I was admiring your dragon pendant,” he lied. “A most unusual piece.”

  Her expression cleared. She touched the pendant. “ ’Tis my mother’s legacy to me.”

  Holding her gaze captive with his own, Richard pasted his best smoldering look on his face. He knew how effective that particular expression was with women.

  Keely felt a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. Within mere seconds the simmering heat became a raging boil, but her instinct for survival surfaced quickly.

  Keely tore her gaze from his and remarked, “How lovely the trees dress in autumn, especially the oaks. You know, they’re powerful huggers.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Richard couldn’t credit what he’d heard.

  “I was admiring His Grace’s garden,” Keely explained, realizing what she’d almost revealed about herself.

  “You have the most delightful accent,” Richard said.

  “You’re the one with the accent.” Keely gave him an unconsciously flirtatious smile.

  “We English have a phrase that best describes you Welsh,” Richard said, returning her smile. “Daffy taffy.”

  Keely lost her smile, and one perfectly arched ebony brow shot up in a perfect imitation of his irritating habit. “We Welsh have a term that best describes English halfwits—gifted.”

  Richard shouted with laughter, not only at what she’d said but at her irreverent lack of regard for his august rank. Imagine, insulting the queen’s favorite earl.

  Keely could only stare at him. His good humor in the face of what she considered a devastating insult surprised her.

  “I’m wounded,” Richard said, his eyes sparkling with unmistakable merriment. “Your tongue slices me to pieces.”

  “What a happy soul you are,” Keely said. “Finding humor in the most unlikely places.”

  “Dudley should hear this.”

  “Who?”

  “Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester.”

  Keely stared at him blankly. “I’ve never heard of the man.”

  Richard gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m beginning to like you more and more.”

  “I like you too,” Keely said, her lack of guile a refreshing change from the women at court. “Could we be friends?”

  Richard nodded. He wanted more than friendship from this beauty, but he was wise enough to keep that thought to himself. Richard knew with a predator’s instinct that unlike the other ladies of his acquaintance, Keely would fly away in fright if he moved too quickly. Besides, he needed time to investigate her part in her cousins’ crime against him.

  Feigning nonchalance, Richard stretched his legs out and drew a brandy-colored stone from his pocket. He rolled it around in the palm of his hand and glanced sidelong at her. “Unique, isn’t it?” he remarked, catching her wide-eyed stare.

  Keely nodded and looked away. “The carnelian stone protects its owner from harm. Where did you get it?”

  “I found it in Shropshire and keep it for luck,” Richard answered. “Your cousins—”

  Keely visibly jerked into alertness, and Richard realized she knew about the robbery. Before or after the fact?

  “Your cousins seem vaguely familiar,” he went on. “Yet I cannot place where I’ve seen them.”

  “My cousins rode with me from Wales,” Keely said. “I’m sure you never saw them before that night at the tavern.”

  Richard dropped the subject. He didn’t want her thinking that he recognized her cousins. “Since you’re newly arrived in England, please let me take you on a tour of London’s most interesting sights.”

  “That would be improper without a chaperon,” she said.

  Richard raised her hand to his lips and gazed into her violet eyes. “Your beauty does incite me to impropriety.”

  His lips on her hand and his intimate words conspired against her. Keely was neatly caught by his disarming emerald gaze.

  Richard moved closer, a devastatingly lazy smile spreading across his features. Slowly, his mouth descended to claim her lips.

  Keely closed her eyes, and their lips touched in what would have been her very first kiss, but—

  Honk! Honk! Honk!

  Both Richard and Keely leaped away from each other. She whirled around and saw a fat white goose with an orange beak waddling across the lawn toward them. Around its neck hung a gold collar inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. Lady Dawn, accompanied by two young boys, walked several yards behind the goose.

  “Hello, Anthony,” Richard called, then whispered out of the side of his mouth, “The countess’s pet goose.”

  Keely stifled a giggle. “The goose is not for supper tonight?”

  “Eat Anthony?” Lady Dawn cried. “Swallow your tongue, child.” She turned to her pages. “Bart and Jasper, return Anthony to his room.”

  As the boys led Anthony away, Richard stood and offered his seat to the countess. He bowed over Keely’s hand, saying, “I look forward to our next meeting, my lady.” His gaze promised they’d begin exactly where they’d stopped.

  “Sup with us this evening,” Lady Dawn invited him.

  “Unfortunately, I’m obligated to attend the queen,” Richard refused. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

  “You’re always welcome at Talbot House.” Lady Dawn drew Keely to her feet. “The dressmaker is here to take your measurements, my dear. Tally is sparing no expense on your behalf.”

  “Enjoy your day.” Richard started across the lawn.

  “The earl gifted me with this orchid,” Keely told the countess.

  Lady Dawn smiled. “In the language of flowers, when a man gives a woman an orchid, he means to seduce her.”

  Keely crimsoned with offended embarrassment. Richard chose that moment to turn around, sweep them a deep bow, and wink at her. Then he disappeared down the walk that led to his own estate.
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  “Nicely done,” the countess complimented her. “Devereux will soon be eating from your hand. At least, asking for it in marriage.”

  “Marriage?” Keely echoed in a shocked whisper.

  “I do so love weddings,” Lady Dawn drawled, hooking her arm through Keely’s as they turned to the house. “I’ve been the bride three times already, but I will especially enjoy planning this one. The marriage of the decade, unless the queen decides to wed.”

  Holy stones. She’d only been at Talbot House for one confusing day. Already the earl had her bedded, and the countess had her wedded. How would she ever survive this land of eccentrics?

  One hour at a time, an inner voice whispered. Or else you’ll go mad within a week.

  Chapter 5

  Keely tossed and turned on the stormy seas of worry and awakened before dawn from the fitful sleep that had finally overtaken her. Autumn’s chill nipped the air inside her chamber, but she ignored it. Instead of stoking the embers in the hearth, she wrapped herself in her white ceremonial robe and padded on bare feet across the chamber.

  A steady rain drummed rhythmically against the window. Her head pounded in time with the beating of the rain. Worrying about Odo and Hew was making her sick. She couldn’t live indefinitely with this danger threatening her cousins.

  The earl knew he’d seen them somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he remembered the specifics.

  Honesty was the best policy. The earl had said he’d never intentionally hurt her. Hanging Odo and Hew at Tyburn Hill would cause her a great deal of pain. Should she confess to the earl and beg his mercy? What if he arrested her cousins? How could she live with that on her conscience? This was all her fault. If Odo and Hew hadn’t been concerned for her welfare, they would never have resorted to robbery or journeyed to England.

  Keely decided to ask the Great Mother Goddess for guidance. If she envisioned a suitable ending to her confession, she would speak without delay to the earl.

  Using her magic stones, Keely made a makeshift circle in the center of her chamber and left the western periphery open. She entered from the west and used her last stone to close the circle, saying, “All disturbing thoughts remain outside.”

  Keely fused the invisible periphery shut with her golden sickle and then turned in a clockwise circle three times until she faced the west again. She dropped to her knees, closed her eyes, focused her breathing, and touched her dragon pendant.