The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  She laughed softly. “Did you not? You asked me the very same one!”

  “But is it not my privilege to shower you with gifts? That privilege is a gift, for I doubt you bestow it lightly.”

  Her right hand was nestled in the crook of his left arm, where she could feel the lithe muscles of his side against the back of her hand and the swell of his biceps beneath her fingers. He rested his right hand on her left for a moment, then turned to face her. He took both her hands in his and smiled at her, his cheeks still slightly pink.

  “Your acceptance of my suit is a gift, Lilybeth. Please do not ever feel that you need to give me anything other than your heart. I do hope to earn that, even if it takes some time.” He bowed over her hands and kissed them one at a time.

  Their two mothers discreetly changed their path to give them a semblance of privacy without actually being out of sight.

  “You are well on your way to owning that entirely,” she whispered, her cheeks heating.

  He straightened, delight dancing in his eyes, and murmured, “You give me great hope. How might I continue to make progress toward this worthy goal?”

  Lily looked down at his hands still holding hers. His fingers were long and narrow, almost delicate, but had a masculine strength to them entirely different than her own. They were as pale as alabaster, lighter even than her own, and dusted with a few stray freckles.

  “I think you should tell me about yourself,” she said thoughtfully. “I know you’re generous, cheerful, and kind. But I don’t know whether you are musical, whether you enjoy reading and what sorts of stories you enjoy, or whether you speak Arichtan or Rulothian or even some more exotic language. I don’t even know your favorite color.”

  He beamed at her, as bright and warm as the sunshine on her shoulders. “I am not particularly musical, but I do like dancing. I love reading, and the more swashbuckling the stories, the better. I speak both Arichtan and Rulothian quite badly. And my favorite color is the blue-grey of your eyes.”

  She couldn’t help chuckling. “Surely you had a favorite color before seeing my eyes, though. What was it?”

  He laughed. “Both blue and green. Green for growth and springtime and the richness of the created world, and blue for honor and for the immensity of the sky. It always seemed to me to be singing of possibilities.”

  When she still looked interested, he added, “When I was a boy, I used to go to the rose garden, lie on my back on the ground, and look at the sky. Every time I went, I saw a new shade of blue. The deep gray before dawn that’s hardly even blue at all, the cerulean of midmorning, the deep navy of twilight, and a thousand shades in between.”

  Lily’s eyes met his, and she smiled in delight. This was what she had hoped to learn about him, those quiet little memories that made a person unique and shaped their lives.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he murmured. He didn’t sound angry, but Lily hastened to explain.

  “No, not at all.” She shook her head. “I had hoped to learn what experiences have shaped you, what taught you to be generous, what made you who you are.”

  Theo’s eyes danced, and he said, “Your concern for my tender ego is commendable. But I confess I would not mind so much if you laughed at me, so long as it amused you. I love to see you laugh. I am pleased to find, though, that you are much too kind to mock me.”

  “How could I?” Lily bit her lip. “I would like to laugh with you, but I could never laugh at you. That would be cruel.”

  “Once again I am proven wise in my affection,” Theo said.

  Lily added, “I confess your ego does not seem so tender to me. You seem to be utterly impervious to Lord Willowvale’s insults.”

  Theo laughed softly. “It is easy to ignore an insult when you have no respect for the one who utters it. It is much harder when it comes from one you revere and love.”

  “Whom do you revere and love?” she asked impulsively.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Well…”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments! I want to know who shaped you.”

  “My parents,” he said quietly. “My father has a fascinating story, but it is his to tell when he is ready. It is one of steadfast courage and faith in a profoundly alien land. My mother’s story is one of creative application of one’s gifts on behalf of another, with selfless motives. It brought them together and provided a truly unique example for me, both as a child and now.”

  Lily looked up at him curiously, seeing the warmth and affection in his eyes. “May I ask them about it?”

  “Not yet.” His answer was soft. “Wait until after the wedding.”

  She wondered why he asked that, but did not ask.

  “Whom do you revere and love?” He returned the question.

  “My parents.” She smiled. “My father was knighted four years ago, for courage on the field when Aricht was at war. He was in one of the companies we sent in support against the Fair Folk. His commanding officer fell, and not only did he take up the banner, but he led the rest of the company to victory. He has always been brave, of course; certainly as a child I admired him. But I saw how difficult the transition was back to our quiet life in Haven-by-the-Sea, and how he fought his own memories to be able to smile at us again. My mother loved him so generously through the worst of his dreams and reminded him who he really was. He is a hero, but he is also a beloved father who taught his son how to be a good man and me what to look for when I was ready to think of young men.”

  She had not looked at him while she said this; it had the feel of a confidence that was not entirely meant to be shared. Her father’s nightmares were not truly hers to reveal to anyone. She carried on quickly, “So you see, I didn’t grow up in the privilege that you did. This life as a knight’s daughter, right at the edge of nobility, is new to me. We were merely landholders in a tiny town on the coast. We had enough to understand that we had an obligation to be generous to those less fortunate, but not enough for a few failed investments not to threaten the entire estate.” She flushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dwell on that. I only intended to let you know that my upbringing was not like yours in privilege and manners, and although I have tried to learn what a knight’s daughter ought to, I fear I will disappoint you in some way.”

  Theo’s answering smile assuaged any lingering doubts. “Difficult as it might be to believe, I have had opportunity to pursue young ladies before and have refrained. I was waiting for someone irresistible. What I saw of your character was more attractive than any pretty manners or expensive clothing.”

  Lily’s cheeks heated. “That’s a high compliment. I will endeavor to deserve it.”

  “Father, what shall I give Theo as a wedding gift?” Lily asked desperately.

  Her father looked at her over the rim of his tea cup. They were sitting at the breakfast table, and Lily had asked the same question at least once a week for the last five weeks.

  “I thought you were embroidering a handkerchief,” he said mildly.

  “I did. But it’s not remotely enough.” She didn’t voice what they all knew about the Overton wealth and Theo’s generosity, but the fact hung in the air all the same. One hand-embroidered handkerchief did indeed seem rather pathetic in comparison.

  Lily said, “He likes riding. He and Lord Selby, and several others, go out frequently. Maybe something related to that? But what?”

  Oliver frowned. “He’s particular about his tack. I wouldn’t dare choose something as a gift without knowing exactly what he wanted.”

  Lady Hathaway said, “Something personal would preferable, I would think. Perhaps a cravat?”

  “What about a nice pen set? He said he is involved in his father’s business. I am sure he would like to be reminded of you as he does the accounts,” said her father.

  Oliver nodded. “That is a good idea.”

  Accordingly, Oliver escorted Lily out to the nicest pen and stationery shop in Ardmond. Lily’s eyes widened at the prices neatly noted beneath
each beautiful pen and pen stand. The display was overwhelming, with hundreds of pens of many different types of wood and barrel shapes, several hundred varieties of nibs, and an equal number of inks.

  After a moment, a thin, serious man emerged from the back of the shop. “May I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a gift,” Lily said with a nervous smile.

  “For whom?”

  “My husband-to-be.”

  The man’s gaze raked her up and down. “And what is his name, Miss?”

  “Theo Overton.”

  The man’s eyes lit up. “Miss Hathaway? Is this a wedding gift, I presume?”

  She blinked. He knew her name? “Yes,” she said.

  “I’m Reginald Mather, and I will be delighted to help you choose something for Mr. Overton.” The man’s thin, cool face was transformed by his smile. It seemed everyone loved Theo, although in this case Lily imagined his wealth was a contributing factor, in addition to his charm.

  “He prefers a slimmer barrel, like these.” Mr. Mather indicated one to her left. “And he prefers medium to thin nibs. He considered this one when he was here last.”

  “What wood does he like?” Lily asked.

  “If I were choosing a gift for him myself, I would probably choose a rosewood. It has risen in popularity in recent months, you understand, and he has not purchased a rosewood barrel from me, at least. It is likely he does not have one yet.”

  After some discussion, Lily selected a dark rosewood and a deep burgundy ink. Oliver suggested a pen stand of rosewood inlaid with maple, holly, cherry, and other woods in a floral motif that included a spray of the now popular roses, along with a lily. “It really is perfect, considering your middle name,” he murmured into her ear.

  Mr. Mather seemed deeply satisfied by their selections, and Lily understood why when he totaled the purchase. The amount made her flinch. The proprietor said gently, “I am happy to extend credit, if you would prefer.”

  Lily shook her head, internally wincing at the awkwardness. “No, thank you.” She glanced Oliver, who had been carrying the money from their father for the gift. Oliver paid with a smile, thanking Mr. Mather for his assistance.

  On the way home, Oliver said, “It was a good choice, Lily.”

  “I hope he likes it.”

  “He is so delighted to be marrying you that I really don’t think the gift matters much. It is a good gift, though.” Her brother smiled at her affectionately as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of their house. When they entered, they found a vase of white lilies and snowy jasmine, with a deep blue and white iris, and blue and white hyacinths.

  Oliver asked her about the different meanings and she had to look up the flowers, not yet having memorized them all.

  “The white lilies are for purity and virginity, the white jasmine is for sweet love and amiability, the iris is for faith, trust, wisdom, hope, or valor, the white hyacinths are for loveliness, and the blue ones are for constancy.” Lily blushed pink as she closed the book.

  “Do you think he knows all the meanings by heart, or does he look them up?” Oliver asked with interest.

  “I imagine he knows them.” Lady Hathaway spoke with confidence. “That young man knows exactly what he’s doing and what message he’s conveying. He’s as bright as anyone I’ve ever met. We’re lucky he’s devoted his intellect to being charming, I think.”

  Lily gazed at her mother in surprise but said nothing.

  Chapter 19

  The Most Beautiful Wedding of the Season

  The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, as beautiful an early autumn day as any bride could have wished.

  The ceremony was scheduled for early afternoon. Lily and her family ate a quick, early lunch before heading to the chapel with plenty of time. The Overtons were already there, but Theo stayed properly in his room while Lily was ushered in so that he would not see her.

  The chapel was exquisite, and there had been little additional decoration required. Lily stood at the back and looked forward to where she would stand in a few hours and pledge her life to Theo. The light through the stained glass above her gilded the pews and the edges of the altar.

  She and her mother found the room where she would dress. Mrs. Collingwood had delivered her dress and the matching slippers earlier that morning, and they were neatly hanging as promised.

  A vase of orange blossoms, white and pink roses, and ivy stood on a table near the window, along with a letter and a little wooden box.

  My dearest,

  I pray that you are as filled with joy this morning as I am. I hope you like the necklace. Don’t feel obligated to wear it today if you have already chosen something else.

  Yours always,

  Theo

  Lily set the letter aside and picked up the box. The top was carved in a finely detailed rose pattern.

  “It’s beautiful,” her mother said softly. “From young Mr. Overton, I presume.”

  Lily nodded. She opened the box and gasped. She carefully lifted the necklace out and set the box on the table.

  A delicate trio of diamonds nestled like roses between marquise cut emeralds and gold leaves. The gold chain was so delicate as to nearly disappear.

  Lily placed it back in the box. “I’ll put it on after my hair is done.”

  She took a deep breath and looked at her mother, feeling suddenly nervous. The wedding was really here. She was getting married in an hour.

  “Sit down,” her mother said.

  Lady Hathaway brushed Lily’s hair gently, watching her daughter smile to herself in the mirror.

  “You look lovely, my sweet daughter,” she said softly.

  Lily’s gaze met her mother’s. “I didn’t expect this when we came to Ardmond for the season, Mother.”

  Lady Hathaway chuckled softly. “Neither did any of us. We certainly hoped you would find someone you liked, but this was a surprise.”

  “Is it proper for me to be so excited, Mother?” Lily flushed. “I mean, in the most ladylike way, of course.”

  Her mother laughed aloud. “Darling, it is not only proper but right. You are meant to find delight in your beloved. It is only before marriage that these ideas of propriety ought to stand between a man and a woman. Afterwards, you belong to each other in every way, and that should give you both joy.”

  Lily’s blush deepened as she thought of Theo’s tall, elegant form. She imagined how he would smile at her with his warm eyes full of sparkling delight. For an instant, she imagined the touch of his hands, then put the thought away to savor later, when it would be right and proper.

  Her mother braided her hair in the new style, then artfully arranged the braids at the nape of her neck, pulling out strands to frame her face. She tucked a petite violet into the arrangement as Lily had requested, indicating modesty, faithfulness, and devotion, and a white rose bud beside it, indicating virtue and chastity.

  She helped Lily change into her dress. The soft green set off Lily’s rich brown hair, and she hoped Theo liked the style she had chosen. Mrs. Collingwood’s design was both the height of current fashion, setting off her waist, and unique in its intricate embroidery. Roses picked out in silver and white thread cascaded from her waist to tumble in beautiful symmetry around her feet. More petite roses lined the elegant neckline and followed the line of her sleeves.

  “Turn around.” Her mother stepped behind her to lace up the back. The boning pressed tight, and she sucked in a breath. Her mother slipped the necklace around her neck and clasped it in the back.

  “You are so beautiful, Lily.” Lady Hathaway kissed Lily’s cheek and brushed at her own eyes.

  “Don’t cry, Mother!” Lily spun to wrap her arms around her mother.

  “They’re happy tears,” sniffed Lady Hathaway. “I am so proud of you, of your heart. I have prayed for so long that you would find not only happiness but true, enduring love with a good man, and I think my prayers have been answered.”

  Lily brushed dampness across he
r own cheeks. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Her mother’s dress was a similar but darker green, with less extravagant embroidery. Roses of golden thread lined the hem, neckline, and sleeves.

  The guests had begun to arrive, and Lady Hathaway stepped out to ensure that everything was properly ready. Lily applied powder to her cheeks and then stood barefoot, rereading Theo’s short letter. She looked up to admire the flowers. Orange flowers for bridal festivities, purity, and chastity, pink and white roses for grace, perfect happiness, and charm, and ivy for fidelity, love in marriage, affection, and friendship.

  Lady Hathaway said from the doorway, “It’s time.”

  Lily slipped on her shoes, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

  Her family waited beside the open double doors at the back of the chapel. The organist began a quiet, happy tune, and Oliver escorted Lady Hathaway to the front row, where they sat. Some of the hired attendants closed the doors again to allow Lily and her father to get into position.

  Lily’s heart thudded raggedly. She wondered wildly whether he would smile, whether he would like her dress, whether he would have second thoughts.

  Her father offered her his arm, and she placed her hand upon it. His solid strength beside her steadied her heart.

  He looked down at her and said, “You’re so beautiful, Lily. You’ve made your mother and me proud in so many ways.”

  “Thank you, Father.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  She smiled at his warmth and the unshed tears in his voice.

  He added, “Theo adores you. But if ever he doesn’t, I’ll straighten him out for you.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  When the music changed, she raised her head. The next breath she took trembled with anticipation and hope.

  The attendants opened the doors, and she looked up the aisle to meet Theo’s gaze.

  The smile that lit his face was bright with transcendent joy. His eyes held hers, and his hands trembled at his sides, as if he ached to hold her in his arms already.