“That would be terrifying,” he murmured.
“It was.”
He seemed surprised that I had responded to his comment. Perhaps he’d just been musing to himself. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
He cocked his head to the side. “And how old are you now?”
I smiled. “That’s quite a bold question.”
He cleared his throat. “My apologies, I meant no—”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. I’m eighteen.”
We walked in silence for a moment and I was once again distracted by the sky when he wondered aloud, “You’re not going to turn the question on me?”
“Pardon?”
“My age. You’re not curious?”
“I know how old you are.”
“And how is that?” He sounded genuinely baffled.
“Rosamond said your parents had passed away five years ago, and I asked how old you were at the time.” His attention dropped to the ground in front of him when I mentioned his parents. “That would be a lot to take on at twenty years old.”
“Yes. I hope you’re never burdened with such a load.”
I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t exactly mention that the chance of my becoming queen had gone up significantly each time one of my sisters had married. It wasn’t a prospect I liked to dwell on. Growing up, I had never given the possibility a second thought, but with no brothers, and five of my six sisters married, each to a man who could not or would not be king, the possibility was now very real.
I forced my mind back to our conversation. “Did you have anyone you could turn to for advice, for help?”
“Oh yes,” he said bitterly. “My uncle was more than happy to give me all the guidance I asked for. And his guidance always suggested that I step aside and hand the title over to him. I think he would have preferred if my parents had died a few years earlier, before I could take the title.”
“That’s awful.” He smiled at my blunt assessment. “Is the estate really falling to ruin?” The question was past my lips before I made the conscious decision to ask. His hand had been reaching for the latch on the stable door, but it froze. “My apologies, Lord Fallon. I have no right to ask that.”
He shook his head. “I’m the one that mentioned it at our first meeting. And no, it isn’t falling to ruin. Not the way I implied. There is just so much to manage, so much to learn, mostly by trial and mistakes. It never really feels in my control.”
“You haven’t seemed overly busy today,” I mentioned, trying to look on the bright side.
“I’ve been taking a break today.”
“Because of the storm?”
“Because of my guest.” He pulled the stable door open, distracting me from his last comment. The stables were filled with sunlight and the sounds of congenial work, far different from the night before. A couple of horses stuck their heads out of their stalls, ears twitching as they regarded the newcomers.
Two stablemen appeared to be working their way down the line, caring for the stalls’ tenants. My perusal was interrupted when Rhys called, “Miss Lily,” and I realized he was halfway down the row. I walked to him and he held his arm at my back, not touching me, but guiding me nonetheless. He made a clucking sound in the side of his cheek and a massive black stallion stuck his head over the stall. I leaned back instinctively, but Rhys’s hand kept me from stepping back.
“Well, you’re a large fellow, aren’t you?”
Rhys ducked his head, trying to hide his smile.
I made myself reach out with my good arm and rub my knuckles on the velvet of the horse’s nose. The best way for me to overcome intimidating situations was to jump in straightaway. “I’d need a very large ladder in order to mount you.”
Rhys made an odd humming noise before saying, “I would never allow you to ride this horse.”
I pulled back, my brow furrowed. I had been making idle chitchat with an animal. Actually trying to ride such a beast had never entered my head, but Rhys’s comment made me curious. “And why is that?”
“You’re far too small.”
I turned to him, indignant. “I’m not small.”
He gave me a meaningful raise of his eyebrows.
“Fine, I’m admittedly shorter than you, but what does that have to do with riding a horse?”
“A great deal, as I’m sure you know.”
Actually, my mounts had always been chosen for me. I hadn’t given much thought to the reason behind it, but looking at the hulking beast before me, I realized it would likely be very difficult to handle such a large animal. However, that was no longer the point. “I’m not that small,” I said a bit defensively.
“Whatever you say, little one.”
Rhys smirked. I didn’t like hearing him call me that and tried to stand a little taller as I turned my attention back to the horse’s pitch black eyes. “So, what is his name?”
“He doesn’t have a name yet. I only acquired him last week, and he hasn’t let me know what his name is. What do you think it should be?”
“Hm.” I thought for a moment, then couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Joe,” I suggested, giving him an innocent look.
His lips pinched together as he tried not to smile, then said calmly, “Joe it is.”
I laughed. “You cannot name this magnificent creature Joe.”
He gave a breathy laugh. “Well, it’s as good a name as any until I can find a more fitting one.”
I just shook my head, chuckling.
Rhys and I were now on opposite sides of the stallion. Rhys stroked his neck; I continued to rub his nose, and the unnamed horse basked in the attention. For a moment neither of us spoke, simply appreciating the quiet. “We’d better move on before this boy becomes spoiled.” Rhys gave the horse one more pat and then gestured toward the stable doors at the opposite end from where we had entered.
“Would you like to see the garden?”
“Actually,” I did want to, but, “I think I need to go inside. My—”
“Of course.” He gave an awkward, formal bow. “I beg your pardon, I should not be keeping you on your feet.” He took my good arm and hooked it around his own, walking me toward the house.
As we came into the entryway, he asked, “Would you like to rest in your room or would you prefer to sit with some company?”
“I think I just need to sit down.” I turned toward the workroom where I had spent the morning with Rosamond, but Rhys’s guiding arm pulled me in the other direction. He led me into an elegant sitting room, filled with bright light and lavish furniture. It set me at ease. I knew how to behave in this environment.
Rhys led me to a chair and I eased into it with perfect posture, my hands folded in my lap. “Thank you, sir.” He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. I hadn’t called him ‘sir’ all morning, but it came naturally in this setting.
“I’ll speak to Rosamond about some tea.” He bowed himself out of the room and I relaxed my posture. Though it came naturally in this setting, it did not come easily with my injuries. I huffed in annoyance and gave myself permission to break with etiquette. Grabbing a couple of nearby cushions, I placed one behind my back and another against my left side so that my arm rested on it. I was practically an invalid; it wouldn’t hurt to act like one.
When Rhys came back, I gave him a timid smile. Laying my usual bearing aside left me feeling vulnerable. He grinned before composing his face. “Giving up, are you?”
“It hurts more than I anticipated.”
“Speaking of which.” He pulled a stool over and sat down directly in front of me. My eyes widened in surprise, but I said nothing.
“Rosamond informed me that this cut on your forehead needs some attention.”
“Is she coming to look at it?” I was still baffled by his nearness.
He grinned. “She’s busy making tea and said I’d have to take care of it.”
I blinked several times, wondering if he would even know what to do.
>
“Do you mind?” he asked, holding up a vial and a cloth.
“No.” I found it very strange, the idea of this lord sitting before me, ready to tend to my injury. But he seemed eager to do it, and I would not offend him by refusing his help when he so willingly gave it. He appeared to enjoy having someone to look after almost as much as Rosamond did. I wondered why he did not have a wife.
My hair was already pulled off my face, so he simply poured a bit of whatever was in the vial onto the cloth and scooted closer. He squirmed around a bit, trying to figure out the best way to go about his task when it required such close proximity. He finally settled with his left hand resting on the arm of my chair, while he pressed the cloth to my eyebrow with the right. I suppressed a smile. “You’re not used to playing the nursemaid.”
He smiled, but kept his attention on his task. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
His smile broadened. “You’re not one for flattery, are you?”
“Would you like me to be?” I felt a good deal of disdain for flattery in general and was in no way inclined to use it.
He paused in his dabbing efforts and looked at me. “Truthfully, I can’t imagine you being a flatterer.”
“Good,” I said and his gaze returned to my brow. I observed him in silence as he finished. The task was unfamiliar, yet his hands were steady.
He looked up, then gave me a crinkle-eyed smile before glancing over my shoulder. “Are you planning to come in, Rosamond?”
I turned to see Rosamond bustle in with her tea-laden tray. “I didn’t want to startle you and risk our guest losing an eye.”
“No chance of that, I’m all done.” He got to his feet, dismounting the stool as he would a horse, putting the stopper in the vial as he did so.
Rosamond set down her tray and turned toward me, bending so that our eyes were at the same level. She inspected Rhys’s handiwork then nodded in satisfaction and excused herself.
I watched her go, and said, mostly to myself, “I’ve never seen a relationship like yours.”
“You disapprove?”
“I’m fascinated by it.” I turned to look at him. “I almost envy it.”
He sat back casually in his chair, feet crossed and propped up on a footstool, leaning to the side so that his temple rested on his fist. “Not many people get to see it. She’s quite adept at putting on a show for most guests. She’s protective of me and wants to be sure everyone knows that I’m respected by my staff.” I considered his words. Despite their familiarity, I had never thought she lacked respect for His Lordship. “I don’t know if you took her by surprise, or if she finds it as difficult to hold to pretense around you as I do.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The thought of someone not being able to hold to pretense around me seemed extraordinarily funny at that moment. Everyone held to pretense around me. I was a member of the royal family; pretension followed in my wake.
When my laughter caused my eyes to water, Rhys handed me a handkerchief and I desperately tried to smother my laughter. Not only was it unbecoming, but it was also making my side hurt. I covered my whole face, embarrassed by my outburst, and tried to take deep breaths. “I apologize,” I said from behind my hands. I lowered the handkerchief enough that I could see over it. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees, a furrowed brow and a suppressed smile. I shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, then cleared my throat, moving the handkerchief away from my mouth. “That was uncalled for.”
“I’m glad I could amuse you.” His eyes were curious but still laughing.
I dropped my hands to my lap, striving for composure. “I don’t know why it struck me as so funny. I guess I’m just used to a great deal of pretension.”
“Why is that?”
I couldn’t tell him it was because I was royalty. And besides, I often wondered why people felt it necessary to put on a show for us. “I don’t know,” was my mostly truthful answer.
As the silence grew awkward, I reached for the tea tray, seeking something to hold and stir.
Rhys sat up. “I should do that for you.”
I smiled. “I like doing everyday things for myself.” I was waited on so often—especially now that most of my sisters had gone—that I found myself taking every opportunity to do things for myself.
I sat back in my chair and took a sip. “Will you tell me about your parents?”
His eyes softened. “I miss them.”
“Were they sick for a long time?”
“No. The onset was sudden. They declined rapidly.” He spoke mechanically, relaying facts. “It only took a month.”
The far off look in his eyes made my heart ache. “I’m so sorry.”
He gazed out the window and I turned my attention to the liquid swirling in my cup before posing another question. “You mentioned an uncle?”
He brought his focus back to me. “Dear Uncle Myren.”
“Is he still living?”
“Oh yes. And I still see him more often than I would wish. Of course, seeing him at all is more than I would wish.”
By the time my cup was empty, my eyes felt heavy. I excused myself, but before I made it to the door, I was startled by Rhys lifting me into his arms.
“Oh, I can walk.” It hurt, but I could certainly handle the short distance to my room.
“I know,” was all he said before carrying me silently up to my room and setting me down before my closed door. “Rest well.”
He left before I could form a response. I fixed my eyes on the closed door as something inside of me reached after him. He was unlike any other man I had encountered. He wasn’t intimidated by me. He wasn’t flattering, bowing and scraping; but he also wasn’t arrogant.
I pulled myself back to the present and contemplated whether or not I should bother trying to get out of my dress. I was about to lie down fully clothed when Rosamond knocked. Rhys had sent her to help, and it was just one more aspect of Rhys’s personality that left me curious.
Chapter 3
I RESTED FOR several hours, surprised by how worn I still felt. I woke slowly, but my pain had lessened and I was more alert. Rhys had delayed lunch, waiting for me.
We sat together in the dining room as Rosamond and Juliann served us; Rosamond acting as though it were a rare treat to do so.
“Well,” Rhys commented after Rosamond bustled from the room. “You’ve certainly won her approval.”
“Is it hard to come by?”
“It usually takes quite some time. I’m still not certain she entirely approves of me.”
His humility stunned me. I had never met someone who craved the approval of their lessers. “I can assure you, she does.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Been gossiping behind my back?”
“No.” I answered with a laugh. “But her affection for you is obvious.”
He smiled and gestured toward the bowl of creamy soup in front of me. As I ate, I was struck by the oddity of my situation. Sitting alone with a gentleman, eating, was only one in a long line of situations that I found myself experiencing for the first time. It was exhilarating.
As lunch concluded, I couldn’t help but ask, “How long do you suppose it will be before I can return home?”
“You won’t be able to leave today. Likely not even tomorrow.”
I tried to breathe evenly and push down my worry, forcing myself to swallow before asking, “Is there any chance I could look at the roads myself?” Me and my inability to accept the opinion of others.
“I’m happy to check again if that’s what you’d like.”
“I want to go,” I insisted, looking at my hands. “I need to see it, otherwise I won’t believe you.”
There was a smile in his voice as he asked, “I’m that untrustworthy, am I?”
“I’m that stubborn.”
He sat back, studying me in silence for a moment as I held his gaze without blinking. “There is a pond not far from the house. The horses should be a
ble to take us close enough to see just how far the water has risen. That should give us a good idea of what the river level might be.” Rosamond entered to clear some dishes as Rhys studied me silently. “Do you think you can ride a horse?”
I assessed my discomfort level. There was still a burning at my hip when I moved, but it was bearable. “You said it’s not far?”
“Very close, in fact.”
I nodded quickly. “I’d like to go.”
“Very well.” Rhys stood up and circled the table, offering both hands to help me up, and then draped my shawl over my shoulders. He turned to Rosamond. “See that she gets into some suitable riding clothes. I’ll be in the stables.”
Rosamond easily located an old riding habit from among Lady Fallon’s attire. The skirt was full, so it would easily drape over me as well as the horse’s hindquarters. The riding boots were too big, but would suffice. Once I was all set to go, Rosamond looked at me as though determined to see the truth as she asked, “And how are you feeling this afternoon? Are you aching much?”
“I’m doing well,” I answered without thought.
She raised her eyebrows and gave me a disapproving look. I let out a breath. “It hurts quite a bit, but sitting still for too long just makes me stiff. I’d rather be moving.” She squinted her eyes and then nodded.
I reached the stables and watched Rhys work for a few moments before anyone noticed my arrival. One groom worked alongside him as he secured the saddle on his new stallion. There was a mare standing ready with a traditional saddle sitting on her back. I was about to step inside when a conversation coming from my left distracted me.
“You think he’ll return soon?”
I peered through the door to the tack room, where two grooms were organizing equipment.
“Undoubtedly,” the second groom answered.
“He makes everything so much harder.”
“The young master has always been difficult to deal with, most especially when he is in one of his moods.”
My brow furrowed. Rhys was difficult for the servants to work with? I turned to observe him. He appeared to be having a congenial conversation with the groom working at his side. What moods could they be referring to?
Missing Lily Page 3