The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  Lily blushed, and said, “I feel the fortunate one. I do believe I owe you thanks for your kind introduction.”

  Lord Selby’s eyebrows rose, and he smiled wryly. “I cannot say I was entirely glad to do it at the time, but I am glad to have seen my ill-tempered service to my friend result in such a happy union. I am delighted for you both.”

  “Thank you, Lord Selby.”

  When the music ended, Lord Selby looked around. “I do not see your husband, my lady. I should be honored to escort you for another dance, if it please you, but perhaps you would prefer a little refreshment?” He cast his gaze over the scattered crowd again.

  Was it her imagination, or did he look concerned?

  “I would like to sit down a moment, I think,” she said.

  He escorted her to one of many chairs set around in little groups and stood at her side, still looking for Theo.

  Where was he?

  “Have you by any chance seen Lord Willowvale, Mrs. Overton?” he said at last.

  “Not in some time,” she replied.

  His lips pressed together.

  “Ah, there is Oliver. Just one moment, my lady.” He stepped forward to get Oliver’s attention. “I should like to bring Mrs. Overton a glass of wine. Would you attend her until I return?”

  Lily smiled at Lord Selby’s overly proper courtesy. It was hardly upsetting to be left to sit alone for a few moments in a chair in the Overtons’ garden, but it was not entirely polite to leave a lady unattended at any time during a party, much less a bride sitting alone on her wedding day.

  Where was Theo?

  She looked around but did not see him.

  Oliver said, “Lord Selby asked me to attend you, little sister.” A hint of suppressed laughter made his voice warm. “I believe he’s off in search of wine for you. Where is Theo? He’s normally so attentive. I can’t think what he would be doing now.”

  “Neither can I,” murmured Lily. She wasn’t upset, exactly. Certainly she wasn’t angry or insulted. It was more a growing sense of concern that Lord Willowvale had not been entirely wrong when he said Theo was hiding something.

  If he were right about Theo, what was her husband hiding? Who was the young man who had so intrigued Lord Willowvale?

  As if her thoughts had drawn him, the fairy approached her. With a nod to Oliver, he addressed her directly. “Did you see that young man clearly?” he said without preamble. He did not mention the other gentleman.

  “Not really.” She stood, feeling that replying to him from a seated position while he stood over her, tall and imposing, was both intimidating and discourteous.

  He gazed at her, his expression thoughtful. For a moment, there was no bitterness or anger in his face, just a sense of quick, dangerous intelligence, and she thought how handsome he might be if he added kindness to the mix.

  At last, he said, “Did you see that he wore a glamour?” His eyes were fixed on her face.

  She blinked. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “There was perhaps a hint of a glamour, but I cannot be sure. If there was one, it was very strong.”

  “It was fairy-made. Why would your husband have a fairy on the grounds of his estate?” said Lord Willowvale softly.

  “I have no idea,” said Lily honestly. “Why do you think it has anything to do with Theo?”

  Lord Willowvale smiled. “I have no reason to yet. I doubt your idiot husband has any idea that the boy is a fairy at all, or even that he exists.”

  “Are you sure he wasn’t sent by your king?” said Lily.

  “My king has entrusted the mission to me.” Lord Willowvale smiled coolly. “I realize you do not like me, and I don’t care. Nevertheless, my king knows me to be competent. Rather frustratingly, he required that I swear to cause no unnecessary harm in your court and among human kind as I pursue my mission.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Lily gazed at him, feeling as though this news shed new light on the Fair Court in general and on Lord Willowvale in particular. “You can still cause necessary harm, though,” she said with a question in her voice.

  “Indeed.” He smiled icily. “Judgment of what is necessary has been left to me.” He looked across the crowd, then back at her. “I wonder if the Rose would bother to rescue an adult human.”

  She swallowed. “Is that a threat?” she said quietly.

  Oliver spoke for the first time. “I really don’t see what you hope to gain by trying to ruin my sister’s wedding reception.”

  The fairy glanced at him. “How amusing, that you think this has anything to do with your sister at all.” He raked his eyes up and down Oliver. “I wonder what the Valestrian throne wants with Arichtan children,” he mused.

  “What?” said Lily.

  “Well, the children stolen from the Fair Lands must go somewhere.” Lord Willowvale sat in the nearest chair and leaned forward confidentially. “The Fair ambassador in Idosa has informed me that scarcely a third of them are ever returned to Aricht.”

  “I’m sure they’re well-treated,” said Lily.

  “Do you know that? How?” Lord Willowvale smiled.

  “I… I mean, I’m sure the Valestrian throne would not mistreat innocent victims of fairy mischief.” Lily felt herself fumbling.

  “Have you seen them? What if the king, or the prince, uses them for their own nefarious purposes?” Lord Willowvale pressed. “How can you know they are well-treated, when they are never seen again?”

  “I have seen them! They’re… well, they’re healthy, and…” Lily stumbled over her words, suddenly aware of all the things she ought not say.

  “They’re…” Oliver’s words were cut off by the return of Lord Selby.

  “Lord Willowvale, I am surprised at you,” said Lord Selby mildly. “It is monstrously bad form to try to pump a newly married lady for information on your own failed task while her beloved is busy ensuring that his guests are lavishly wined and dined. At her wedding reception, no less!”

  Lord Selby handed Lily a glass of sparkling wine and handed Lord Willowvale the other. He added confidentially, “Mr. Overton has been kind enough to provide the musicians with the music for a Fair song, in an effort to lighten your customarily sour mood. Pray don’t repay him by using this lovely occasion for your own unconscionable ends.”

  Lord Willowvale accepted the glass of wine with a bemused air. For a moment, Lily almost thought he might soften enough to let a genuine smile light his face, but instead he said quietly, “It is difficult indeed to let even the best of human hospitality bring joy to a heart burning with terror for one’s own much superior people.”

  Lily began to say, “What do you—” when Theo swept into their midst, eyes shining, with the sunlight gleaming on his bright auburn hair.

  “My beloved, come away with me and dance. I would be grieved indeed if your memories of our wedding day were to consist more of Lord Willowvale than of my devotion.” In a moment he had whisked her onto the dance floor and into the next dance.

  He beamed at her, all delighted adoration. How handsome he was, with the light of love in his warm eyes!

  So why did she feel that sense of betrayal?

  She pushed it aside for the moment and enjoyed the feel of Theo’s hand on her waist.

  He leaned down to murmur in her ear, “My love for you grows by the moment, dear Lily. How may I best please you the rest of the afternoon?”

  “I should very much like to spend every moment in your arms,” she said almost inaudibly, her cheeks heating.

  His answering smile made her knees suddenly weak. “I cannot think of anything that would delight me more.”

  When the dance ended, her father requested a dance, and of course she had to accept. Then she danced with Sir Theodore, then Sir Michael Radclyffe, then Lord Radclyffe. Once she saw Lord Selby speaking in Theo’s ear, and her husband nodding, his eyes on her, full of love and warmth.

  All the time, in the back of her mind, she wondered whether Lord Willowvale was not entirely wrong after all. He
had made himself detestable, and she could not excuse any cruelty to children, no matter how justifiable the Fair cause.

  Yet, her tender heart had responded to that one moment when it seemed that he had shown vulnerability. If he truly cared about his people and his land, of course he would be tempted to ignore the social niceties of a foreign land while striving to save his own.

  At last, the guests began to depart. The musicians continued playing even after the last of the guests left. Anselm let them know they could rest and begin packing their instruments.

  Sir Jacob and Lady Hathaway bid their generous hosts goodbye, then found Lily and Theo sitting in contented exhaustion near the dance floor. Theo had cajoled Lily into sitting by his side on a chaise lounge and had wrapped his arm around her. She leaned back against him, relaxed and suddenly sleepy in the aftermath of so much excitement. The thrill of that chaste touch, the length of her back against his well-knit side, fought for primacy over the lassitude that had seized her mind. She could feel him breathing, feel the warmth of his body against hers. She leaned her head back against his shoulder; he sighed happily and relaxed further.

  Sir Jacob said, “My most sincere congratulations, Theo. I am proud to have you as a son.”

  Theo began to carefully extricate himself from Lily to bid his father-in-law farewell, but Lily stood with him.

  “Thank you, Sir Jacob. I am most honored by your regard and your trust.” Theo bowed with exquisite courtesy, and his eyes shone with delight.

  “Thank you, Father.” Lily threw her arms around her father, who patted her on the back.

  “I love you, Lilybeth Rose, heart of my heart,” he murmured into her hair.

  “I love you, Father.” She gave him a last squeeze and turned to her mother.

  “I love you, Mother.” Her mother’s embrace brought tears to her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “Thank you for everything.” Her mother murmured her love into Lily’s ear, and Lily tightened her embrace.

  Oliver bowed to Theo and said, “Congratulations.”

  Theo returned the courtesy, murmuring his thanks.

  Oliver hugged his little sister. Then the Hathaways departed back through the garden.

  The birds sang over the leaves rustling in the warm breeze. Both elder and younger Overtons relaxed in the long-awaited tranquility.

  Theo said softly, “How can I best please you now, my love?” He took both her hands in his.

  Lily smiled up at him, drinking in the warmth of his eyes and the light of love in his smile.

  Then Anselm came at run. “Theo!”

  Theo turned, his shoulders stiff.

  The servant shot a cautious look at Lily, then whispered into Theo’s ear.

  Theo’s jaw tensed. He bowed over her hand and kissed it, then pulled her into his arms. “I must go, Lily. I will tell you everything when I return.” He kissed her cheek, her lips, and her hand again, then tore himself away and sprinted toward the stable.

  Lady Overton watched him go, her mouth twisted in an anguished frown.

  “What’s going on?” Lily asked Lady Overton in a shaking voice.

  “It is not my right to say,” the lady answered quietly.

  Theo, mounted on his favorite hunter, thundered out of the stable and up the drive at a dead run.

  Anselm looked after him with grave eyes, then bowed deeply to Lily. “Mrs. Overton, I would be delighted to show you to the suite Mr. Overton had prepared for you. A rest may be just the thing after such an exciting day.”

  Lily heard the compassion in the servant’s voice, and it almost brought her to tears.

  “I think I’d like to wait out here for a while, if you don’t mind,” she whispered. She had hoped, had expected, that Theo would show her to her personal suite and his own.

  “As you wish,” he said quietly.

  Lady Overton said, “I would be happy to sit with you, if you would like. But I understand if you would find solitude more restful.”

  “Thank you, Lady Overton. I think I would prefer to be alone. I am a little fatigued.” Lily’s voice betrayed the tears she hadn’t yet shed.

  Lady Overton stepped closer and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. “Please believe me when I say Theo has a good reason for what he does. He adores you, and nothing but the most serious crisis could tear him away from you, especially now.” She put her hands gently on Lily’s shoulders and met her gaze. “He has scarcely slept in weeks for thinking of the joy of this very day with you.”

  Lily licked her lips and nodded, trembling.

  Chapter 21

  The Wedding Night

  Lily sat in the garden alone. The birdsong changed around her from afternoon to evening sounds, and the buzz of the insects singing in the trees around the garden grew louder.

  The shadows grew longer.

  Anselm brought her a lavish tray of pheasant breast stuffed with cheese and herbs, a rich roll, roasted carrots topped with sugar-crusted walnuts, a little salad of delicate greens she did not recognize and a tangy dressing, fat green and red grapes, and a glass of wine beside a tumbler of cool water.

  “Sir Theodore and Lady Overton asked if you would allow them to join you out here for dinner,” he said.

  She swallowed. She did not feel up to pretending to be optimistic at the moment, but she could not bear the thought of telling them they could not eat with her in their very own garden after such consistent generosity. “If they wish to, I would be glad to see them.”

  The dinner was quiet and fully as awkward as Lily had feared. Lady Overton’s refusal to answer her question earlier had told her that she could expect no answers now. The lady made a valiant effort to lighten the mood by telling a humorous story from Theo’s childhood.

  “He climbed that tree when he was only four years old. Can you imagine? I came outside to see his nurse weeping in fear at the foot of the tree, and him unable to hear he was so high!” Lady Overton pointed at the tree in question, an enormous oak on the other side of the pond. “It was terrifying! My husband and Anselm both ended up in the tree trying to convince him to come down.”

  “Was he hurt?” Lily asked obligingly.

  “Not him!” Lady Overton smiled fondly. “We always said he had the luck of—” she stopped. “Well, he had God’s own hand upon him, keeping him from harm.”

  “What else did he do?”

  “Well, he once tried to save a foal from drowning in the pond in the pasture,” Sir Theodore remarked. “He was only six, and the foal could swim better than he could, so that was a bit of an adventure. I consider it quite an accomplishment on our parts, and that of Anselm, that he made it to adulthood at all.” His kind hazel eyes were so like Theo’s that Lily was reassured, for a moment; how could someone with eyes like that leave her on her very wedding night? Theo must have had a very good reason indeed.

  “Thank you. I feel a little better,” she said truthfully.

  “Good.” Lady Overton smiled at her across the table. “I do hope you will sleep well tonight. I am sure that Theo would not want you to worry. Would you like me to show you your suite?”

  Lily felt a twinge of panic. If she waited a little longer, surely Theo would come, and she could pretend that these hours since he had left had not even happened. If she went to her suite, then she accepted that the evening was nearly over.

  “I… I would like to wait out here a little longer,” she whispered. “Please. I wanted Theo to show me.” She wiped at her eyes.

  Sir Theodore stood, pretending that he did not realize she was weeping. Lady Overton murmured, “Oh, Lily, I do not know when he will be back, only that it will be as soon as he can be. Will you not let me make you comfortable?”

  “I don’t think I want to be comfortable yet.” She wiped at her eyes more fiercely and forced a tremulous smile. The light from the windows fell across her hands, highlighting the streaks of tears.

  Sir Theodore said, without looking at her, “Please know that should you
need anything, now or later in the night, we are here for you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Lady Overton stood. “When you are ready, you may reach your suite by going through those doors, up the main stairs, and to the left. That wing belongs to you and Theo. Follow that corridor to the end. There is a door to your private chambers at the end. When you go through it, you will be in your shared private sitting room. Theo’s suite is to the right, and yours is on the left. You will find all your effects there. You may also summon a maidservant with a pull of any of the ribbons, and a manservant, usually Anselm, with a pull of any of the chains. Ask for whatever you need. This is your home, and we want you to be comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Lily whispered again. “You’ve been very kind.”

  They left then, holding hands, which ought to have been encouraging to Lily. It was an unusual display of affection for such a prominent family; by allowing her to see them doing so, they were showing that she was truly one of their family.

  As much as she appreciated the thought, she felt bereft.

  She sat alone in the dark. Tears trickled quietly down her cheeks, and still she sat, trying to imagine what might be important enough to justify Theo’s departure.

  The tears dried. She listened to the birds quiet and the bugs change their tune as the moon rose and the night drew on. The lights from the house darkened one by one, but the lamp nearest the windows remained lit.

  The air grew cool and damp, and she shivered.

  It must have been past midnight when she finally rose, stiff and chilled. She stood at the table and looked into the shadows that filled the garden.

  Had she really gotten married that very afternoon? The innocent hope and confidence of those moments in the chapel seemed to belong to someone else, years ago.

  She walked slowly to the door, which opened easily.

  She jumped when she saw a shadow rise from where it had been sprawled in a chair in the corner.

  “Mrs. Overton,” Anselm said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You waited up for me?”