LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

been turned as a whole and set askew so that everything seemed new, interesting, vibrant. Her pulse was still thrumming from when he had touched her, and thoughts raced wildly through her mind so quickly that each one barely had time to register before it was gone.

      Rogan St. Cyr. Her mind slid over the name again and again. God’s teeth, he was handsome. That he was a soldier was easy to see, both in his well-muscled frame and the fluid manner in which he moved. Only a warrior had that economy of motion. His hair was thick and a deep russet, like tarnished copper, falling in waves to curl slightly against the nape of his neck. Straight nose, square chin, strong white teeth that gleamed when he smiled. Oh, yes, he was glorious, but not just that. He had been gentle and kind, and when he had looked at her with those strange gray eyes she had seen something incomprehensible, and yet utterly exciting.

      She was being wretchedly silly. He probably was like that with everyone. She had, more than likely, imagined the way his wolflike gaze had held hers and how his sensuous mouth had curved ever so slightly when their eyes first met.

      Still she was deeply gratified he was not Catherine’s betrothed. Or ex-betrothed, as it now stood.

      Belatedly she realized Andrew was speaking to her.

      “I am sorry,” she said, blinking away distraction. “What did you say?”

      “I was merely commenting that I do not think that Rogan is very pleased with the arrangements,” Andrew said. The mention of Rogan’s name made Lily tense.

      “Oh, what arrangements?”

      “The seating arrangements. He is with Catherine trying to calm her. Tell me, does he have a chance?”

      Lily immediately liked this young man, who looked to be not much older than her ten and nine years. She had hardly noticed him before, being much too overwhelmed with his imposing companion, but he was genuinely warm with laughing eyes and a gentle, oft-smiling mouth. “I must admit, Catherine can be difficult. I am certain your brother will find the right words.” She couldn’t resist a glance in Rogan’s direction. He was speaking to Catherine, and from the look of her, Catherine was indeed thawing.

      “On the contrary, my brother is usually a man of very few words.” Andrew leaned forward to see for himself. “Odd, Rogan is not the most accomplished of diplomats. Well, maybe he has never tried before. Or perhaps Catherine is just succumbing to his charm. Women usually do. They find him fascinating for some reason. His looks please them, and there is his prowess on the battlefield—that is fairly legendary, if you will indulge a brother’s pride. But I think the most appealing thing is he seems not to care a whit about them. For some strange reason, it attracts them all the more.”

      “Really?” Lily said, hoping her interest appeared casual so Andrew would not count her among those countless besotted.

      A half smile playing on his lips, Andrew said, “I hope I am not shocking you.”

      “Oh, no!” Lily hurried to assure him. “Not at all.”

      “Perhaps these things are not for delicate ears. I forget myself. Maybe we should change the topic.”

      “Please don’t,” she exclaimed. Checking herself, she continued, “What I mean is that I rarely get to converse with guests, and I know so little about the wider world. I would be most interested to hear more.”

      Andrew broke into a wide smile, “Ah, so you are curious about him, are you?”

      Lily sputtered, trying to extricate herself from the trap. “Only inasmuch as he can avoid unpleasantness with Catherine. I mean, she is rather high-strung, and it would be good if your brother can persuade her with this charm of his.”

      Nodding, Andrew said, “Quite so.” But Lily sensed he was merely being kind. Her explanation had not fooled him. Andrew gave her a mischievous glance. “Well, it seems Rogan is curious about you. He keeps looking at us, and he is positively glowering. I do believe he is jealous.”

      Lily snapped her head around. Rogan was indeed staring at her and was not a bit embarrassed at being caught doing so. Lily blushed and looked away. Casting about for a diversion, and a safe topic upon which to converse, she said, “Why don’t I tell you about the ghost of Charolais. Are you interested in such tales, Father Andrew?”

      “Isn’t everyone?” Andrew answered. Lily trembled so much that her hands shook as she took a draught of wine. She concentrated on keeping herself from casting any more self-incriminating looks down to the other end of the table as she began the story.

      The afternoon passed into evening civilly enough, considering the circumstances. Lily’s father offered the St. Cyrs lodgings for a few days until matters could be sorted out and, when Rogan accepted, Lily felt a thrill course through her limbs. He would be under the same roof for almost a sennight!

      Disappointingly, he was much occupied with Catherine, who was not at all as put out as Lily would have expected. She knew her sister well and had come to fear her sister’s frightful temper. However, Catherine was not displeased with the attentions of the handsome warrior. So much for indignation at having been rejected by her duke. But then, her elder sister had always been fickle.

      It was the family’s custom for the women to adjourn early and leave the men to their evening carouses. This Lily did reluctantly, following her sister up the great stairs to their chambers, but not before darting a quick backward glance at the man who had so completely captured her attention.

      She was surprised to find his gray eyes on her once again. Pinned by that stare, she avoided colliding with Catherine only barely. Her heart hammered in her chest and her throat was dry. She whirled and sped up the stairs.

      

      It was later in her chamber that Lily sat before her looking glass, dreamily brushing out her hair. She was far gone in fantasy, so much so that she didn’t hear her door open nor the sound of gentle footfalls on the thick carpet of rushes.

      “Is it true?” a small voice said into the silence.

      Startled, Lily dropped her brush and whipped around. “Oh! Elspeth, you frightened me! I didn’t even hear you come in.”

      The child was only ten and two, a beautiful cherub whose angelic face and mop of white-blond curls were an apt reflection of her sweet nature. Her eyes were clouded now, her face troubled. Lily cocked her head in curiosity. “Where have you been?”

      Heavy lashes descended over the large blue orbs. “In chapel. I was saying the rosary.” She sighed, a beatific smile curving her tiny bow mouth. “It was so peaceful there, I stayed and kept a vigil, like the monks do over the Holy Sacrament.” This she admitted almost guiltily, as if Lily might disapprove. Lily never did, but Elspeth was a timid creature. “I missed supper. I hope Father was not angry.”

      “He didn’t notice, so do not worry.”

      The frown returned. “Is it true about the duke? He is not to marry Catherine?”

      Lily sighed and turned again to the mirror. “Yes, I am afraid so.” She made very certain to keep her voice steady. “He sent his brothers to tell Father. Did you see them? One is a priest and the other…” What words could she find to describe Rogan?

      Elspeth did not notice her falter. “Yes, I saw them. They were down in the hall when I came up, seated at the hearth.”

      Jumping up, Lily asked urgently, “What were they doing? Was anyone with them?”

      Elspeth’s puzzled expression was almost comical. “The two were by themselves, talking.”

      Pacing, Lily exclaimed, “Oh, I am so restless!” She looked at her sister, deciding whether or not to confide her delirious excitement. She and Elspeth shared everything, but could a child understand the tumult of feeling that had suddenly taken possession of her?

      She was saved from making the decision by the appearance of Catherine at the doorway. She was pale, appearing ghoulish in the flickering light cast by the wall sconces. Lines of strain showed around her pursed

Скачать книгу