Grasso, Patricia

by Love in a Mist

  Still, Keely kept her eyes closed and contented herself by conjuring the earl's handsome image. By now, his bruises would be healing, and—

  "Hello, darling!" the Countess of Cheshire called from across the lawns.

  Keely opened her eyes and stared in surprised dismay at the four people advancing toward her. Along with Duke Robert and Lady Dawn walked the blond-haired angel from Ludlow Castle, her half-sister, and an adolescent boy, probably her half-brother. Steeling herself against the expression of hatred on the blonde's face, Keely rose from the bench and waited for them to approach.

  "Henry and Morgana, this is your sister Keely," Duke Robert announced. "Keely, here are your brother and your sister."

  Because he'd done her an act of kindness by sending that message to her, Keely first turned to fifteen-year-old Henry, who'd inherited his father's ebony hair and had his sister's blue eyes. When he grinned at her, Keely returned his smile.

  "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Henry said.

  "My feelings mirror yours," she replied.

  Unable to delay the inevitable, Keely turned to the glaring blue-eyed angel who'd had her thrown out of Ludlow Castle. "I've always wished for a sister," she said with a tentative smile. "I do hope we can be friends."

  "Sneaky slut," the angel hissed, the vehemence in her voice forcing Keely to step back a pace.

  "Mind your tongue, Morgana," Duke Robert warned, "or I'll banish you to your chamber."

  "I refuse to share my home with your bastard," Morgana told him. "Get rid of her."

  And so it begins, Keely thought as humiliation stained her cheeks. Bastard echoed through her mind. It appeared that the earl would be forced to face his folly sooner than she'd expected.

  "I shan't hesitate to send you back to Shropshire," the duke threatened his daughter. "I'd suffer no qualms about locking you up until you're too old to wed."

  "She's stolen my gown!" Morgana cried, stamping her foot.

  "I apologize for borrowing your clothing," Keely said. "His Grace and the countess insisted I wear them. I'll change immediately and return it to you."

  "Do you actually think I'd wear it now that you've touched it?" Morgana asked, her voice filled with contempt.

  "Your sister is here to stay," Duke Robert said. "Guard your viper's tongue, and practice those genteel manners that I paid Ashemole to teach you."

  "Give over, Morgana," the countess drawled, intent on using the girl's own petty outrage against her. "Keely will be leaving us in less than a month."

  "I eagerly look forward to the day," Morgana shot back. "And of course, to your own departure as well."

  Duke Robert reached out to give his shrewish daughter a well-deserved shake, but the Countess of Cheshire stayed his hand. She smiled at the girl and went in for the kill, purring, "Our dear Keely has managed to capture the Earl of Basildon's eye. Devereux and she will be married next month at Hampton Court. 'Twill be the marriage of the decade."

  "You've stolen my intended?" Morgana shrieked.

  "Your intended?" Keely echoed, shocked. She looked at the duke for confirmation, but he was busy frowning at the countess.

  "Conniving bastard!" Morgana screamed. With her bejeweled hand, she lashed out at Keely and slapped her hard.

  The force of the blow sent Keely reeling backward. She landed on the ground beside the stone bench.

  When the other three rushed to her aid, Keely turned her head away and whispered, "I'm fine."

  "Your lip is bleeding," Henry told her, offering his handkerchief.

  Keely glanced sidelong at the linen and then at him.

  " 'Tis clean," he assured her. "I haven't used it."

  That remark brought a tremulous smile to Keely's lips. She accepted his handkerchief and pressed it against her mouth.

  "Shall I help you up?" Henry asked.

  Keely shook her head and without turning around said, "I'm very sorry, Lady Morgana. I never intended to cause you pain." That Richard had courted her sister hurt Keely more than her bleeding lip.

  "Keely did nothing wrong," Lady Dawn said. " 'Twas the earl who demanded the match. Devereux adores her, probably because of her gentle manner."

  "I cannot believe this is happening," Morgana whined, tears welling up in her eyes.

  "Go to your chamber," Duke Robert ordered. "Do not dare show your face until supper, or I'll take a belt to your backside."

  "You're siding with her?" Morgana wailed. "She's poisoned my own father against me?"

  "Do as I say." The duke's stern voice held a final note of warning that the irate girl failed to heed.

  "I suppose the bastard couldn't wait to tell you how I had her thrown out of Ludlow," Morgana sneered.

  "You threw her out of Ludlow?" Duke Robert roared, his face mottling with rage.

  Realizing her mistake, Morgana stammered, "I—I d-didn't think you'd want to be bothered with one of your by-blows."

  Without warning, Duke Robert slapped his daughter. He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her toward the mansion. Morgana's loud pleadings for mercy could still be heard after she disappeared from sight.

  Henry chuckled, tickled that his sister had entrapped herself. The Countess of Cheshire cast him a feline smile and then headed back to the house.

  But Keely wasn't smiling. She leaned forlornly against the bench as tears brimmed over her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  "Are you certain you're uninjured?" Henry asked, helping her to rise. He sat beside her on the bench.

  Wallowing in misery, Keely stared straight ahead. She struggled to maintain her composure but failed. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her throat. And then another. Finally, she hid her face in her hands and surrendered to her tears.

  "Would you care to use my shoulder?" Henry asked, uncertain of what to do.

  His chivalrous offer caught Keely by surprise. She stopped weeping abruptly, cast him a sidelong glance, and tried to smile. "I'm very happy that you're my brother," she said, then hiccoughed. "Thank you for the message you sent me."

  Henry grinned. " 'Twas nothing. Besides, foiling Morgana's plans brings me so much pleasure."

  "Is my lip still bleeding?"

  Henry slid closer and inspected her lip, then nodded and ordered, "Press the linen down hard." Keely did as he instructed.

  "So tell me, sister," Henry asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "how did you ever trap the elusive Earl of Basildon?"

  "Brother, you've the gist of it wrong," Keely answered with a rueful smile. "That arrogant rascal trapped me."

  "How did Devereux manage that?" he asked.

  Keely shrugged and then related the events of her downfall that culminated in their father's unexpected entry into the earl's bedchamber. "How His Grace knew what was happening is beyond me," she ended her tale. "Only Lady Dawn knew where I'd gone, and even she had no idea the earl would be abed when I arrived."

  How wondrously naïve his new sister was, Henry thought, struggling not to laugh in her face. "Never underestimate the Countess of Cheshire's intelligence because of the size of her—" He broke off and coughed, hiding the vulgarity he'd almost uttered. "You witnessed how skillfully the countess engineered Morgana into that revealing rage."

  "No one can goad us into negative action unless we allow it," Keely disagreed. "Each soul bears the responsibility for its own fate. If she'd responded with kindness to my offer of friendship, Morgana would be enjoying this glorious autumn afternoon instead of weeping alone in her chamber."

  "I'm positive Ashemole is consoling her." Henry gently pulled her hand away from her face and inspected her lip. "The bleeding stopped," he told her, then watching for her reaction, added, "Devereux must want you badly."

  "I cannot credit that. I'm a Welsh nobody."

  Henry gave her a lopsided grin. "Any mirror will tell you his reason."

  Keely smiled. "Thank you for the pretty compliment, brother."

  "Where are those giants of yours hiding?"

  "Odo and Hew feel more comf
ortable at the stables," she answered, starting to rise. "Come with me, and I'll introduce you."

  "Later," Henry said, touching her forearm to prevent her leaving. "First, please tell me about yourself."

  "I lived at my stepfather's holding in Wales," Keely said. "When my mother passed away, I journeyed to England to find my natural father."

  "Not only did you find Papa, you found Devereux, and the rest is history," Henry remarked. "What are the wedding plans?"

  Keely shrugged. "The countess and, I suppose, the earl have it planned. All I need to do is attend. Did you know there are men at court who rouge their cheeks?"

  "Bloody popinjays," the boy muttered.

  Honk! Honk! Honk!

  Keely and Henry looked in the direction of that sound. Eluding his keepers, Anthony the goose was waddling as fast as he could toward them.

  "What do you think of the countess's pet?" Henry asked.

  "Anthony lives better than most," Keely replied. "I especially love his emerald and diamond collar."

  The honking goose stopped in front of Keely, who'd begun a practice of feeding him a treat each afternoon. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the slice of bread she'd saved from her dinner. Breaking it into small pieces, she fed the fat goose and then gestured to his keepers, Bart and Jasper, who leashed him and led him away.

  "Friendship is wherever we find it," Keely said, glancing at her brother. "Even a goose or a pig or a tree can be a worthy friend."

  Henry smiled. His sister was lovely and charming, but definitely strange. If he had to choose between the two, he'd take Keely over Morgana any day. Lovely, charming, and strange were more pleasant by far than selfish, shallow, and vicious.

  "Will you be attending my wedding?" Keely asked. "Odo and Hew need someone to watch over them while the earl and I are busy with our guests."

  "When is it?"

  "The week after Samhuinn."

  "What's that?"

  "Samhuinn is what the church now calls All Hallow's Eve, All Hallow's Day, and All Soul's Day," Keely answered. " 'Tis three days of potent magic, when the veil between our world and that of our ancestors draws aside. Those who are prepared can journey to the other world."

  Henry snorted with disbelief. "Do you actually believe that people can leave this world and journey to—"

  "The past and the future," Keely supplied. " 'Tis a marvelous time when chaos reigns. Don't the English celebrate it?"

  Henry's gaze narrowed on her. "How do the Welsh celebrate?"

  "With feasts and disguises and pranks."

  "Disguises and pranks?" he echoed, interested.

  "Great fires are lit inside and outside the house," Keely told him, her excitement infectious. "The doors are thrown open, and a sumptuous feast is served."

  "What about the disguises and pranks?"

  "You must wear your clothing turned inside out and blacken your face with soot so evil spirits won't recognize you," Keely went on. "For three days, you may trick anyone you want. Without repercussions, I might add."

  "I can hardly wait," Henry said, rubbing his hands together. A mischievous gleam lit his blue eyes. "Giving the fig is the only English tradition for All Hallow's Eve."

  "What's that?"

  Henry made a fist with his right hand and stuck his thumb up between his first and second fingers. "See," he said, holding his hand out. " 'Tis a fig. Give it to family, friend, or lover on All Hallow's Eve. The fig means 'I like you.' "

  "What is so special about that?" Keely asked. "I could do that any day."

  " 'Tis the English custom," Henry insisted. "You wouldn't give a friend a New Year's gift on Midsummer's Eve, would you?"

  "No."

  "We give New Year's gifts on New Year's and the fig on All Hallow's Eve. Understand?"

  Keely gifted her brother with a beguiling smile and nodded.

  "Pranking the Countess of Cheshire would be fun," Henry said, thinking of that lady's pendulous breasts heaving with her fright. "What do you say?" When she nodded, he added, "Lean close. We want no one to overhear us."

  Keely and Henry bent their heads together and plotted pranks against the inhabitants of Talbot House. So intent were they on their outrageous schemes, they never heard the intruder's approach.

  "Hello, beauty."

  Keely snapped her head up at the sound of that voice, and before she thought to mask her feelings, she gifted the earl with a dazzling smile that told him how happy she was to see him. The butterflies' wings returned to her stomach, but Keely cared not a whit. The sight of the earl's handsome face cheered her.

  "Did you miss me, dearest?"

  "I might have, but the countess kept me busy."

  "You wound me, sweetheart," Richard said. "Each moment at court felt as long as a day. I feared I'd expire pining for you."

  Keely arched an ebony brow at him. "How fare the Ladies Sarah and Jane?"

  "Who?"

  Keely burst out laughing, more at his expression of feigned innocence than at what he'd said. How one man could be so devastatingly charming boggled her mind. "Henry and I were plotting our Samh—I mean, our All Hallow's Eve pranks."

  Henry stood up and offered the earl his seat on the bench beside Keely, then winked at him. "Congratulations on your forthcoming marriage, my lord," he said. "Any good hunting at court?"

  "I've quit that sport," Richard replied, winking back at the boy. He looked at Keely and lost his good humor. "What's wrong with your mouth?" he demanded. "And your eyelids are heavy. Have you been crying?"

  "I fell," Keely lied. "The pain brought me tears."

  Richard surprised her by putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her close. In a gently chiding voice, he said, "Do you see how much you need me to protect you, dearest?"

  "No one could have protected her from the bitch's wrath," Henry said, earning himself a censorious frown. "Morgana smacked her."

  "Henry." Keely's voice held a warning note.

  "Give us a few moments of privacy," Richard said to the boy, his irritation apparent. It was a command, not a request.

  "Certainly." Henry turned to Keely and said, "I do wish you weren't my sister so we could practice my new hobby together."

  "I can help you," Keely offered.

  "Not with this hobby."

  "Why can't I?"

  Henry winked at the earl and then walked away, calling over his shoulder, " 'Tis making love."

  Keely blushed scarlet. She refused to look at the earl.

  "Never lie to me again," Richard said, close to her ear. "I despise liars."

  "Telling the truth would only have created more problems," Keely tried to explain, her violet-eyed gaze pleading for understanding. "Besides, you neglected to tell me that Morgana and you had intended to wed. 'Twas by omission a lie."

  "Morgana intended to marry me, but after passing the longest week of my life at Ludlow Castle, I had no such intention toward her," Richard replied. "Only a man enamored of misery would offer for that one."

  Keely felt relieved. "Disagreeable people are usually unhappy. Try to be more sympathetic."

  "Could you be jealous?" Richard asked.

  "No. Of course not," she answered too quickly.

  Richard raised his brows, a habit of his that was becoming more endearing to her with each passing day. "What were Henry and you planning?"

  "A special All Hallow's Eve celebration."

  "And what might that be?"

  " 'Tis a surprise."

  Richard planted a chaste kiss on the uninjured side of her mouth and coaxed, "Share it with me, dearest."

  Keely shook her head. " 'Tis a secret between my brother and me."

  Richard longed to press his lips on hers but controlled the urge because of her injury. He contented himself with nuzzling her neck instead.

  Keely wondered what to do as delicious shivers of delight danced down her spine. Should she allow him this liberty because of their betrothal? Or ought she to stop him—something she didn't want to do? />
  "Several reports await me," he murmured against her ear, "but I'll sup with you tonight."

  "That's not a good idea," she tried to refuse. "Morgana—"

  "Baron Smythe will keep her occupied," Richard said, brushing his lips against her temple. "Willis is interested in Morgana."

  Keely suffered a chill feeling of dread at the mention of the black-haired baron. Worry etched itself across her delicate features.

  "What's wrong?" Richard asked.

  "I don't like the baron," Keely answered honestly.

  "But you scarcely know him."

  " 'Tis a feeling I have—and trust."

  "Woman's intuition?"

  Keely didn't smile. "The aura of untimely death surrounds him like a shroud. The baron is a dangerous, untrustworthy man."

  Richard chuckled. "Are you a fortune-telling gypsy?" he teased. "Or a witch?"

  "I am a—" Unwilling to jeopardize their marriage, Keely broke off. She wanted this pagan god sprung to life, if only for a brief time.

  "You're a what?" Richard prodded with an amused smile.

  "A silly woman."

  "Not so," Richard said, rising and kissing her hand. He cast her a purposefully smoldering look and whispered huskily, "You are as lovely as the legendary goddess Venus and as sweet as marchpane.... But, you are wrong about Willis."

  Keely managed a smile. "I'm certain you're correct."

  "Until supper, dearest." Richard turned and walked away. Almost home, he stopped short as he recalled Burghley's warning to him at Kenilworth Castle. Richard whirled around and retraced his steps back to the garden, but Keely had already vanished inside Talbot House. Was it merely coincidence that she'd used the exact words to describe Smythe that Burghley had?

  Early evening's supper hour found Keely lingering in her bedchamber. Her reluctance to face her sister's hatred had imprisoned her there all afternoon, but delaying the inevitable was now impossible. Only the delivery of her new gowns cheered her flagging spirit.

  Keely wore a pale gray velvet gown with an underskirt and an underblouse of ivory silk. Its subdued color reminded her of the mountain mists in Wales and matched her mood. The only splashes of bright color were the violet of her eyes and the glittering dragon pendant she always wore.