Missing Lily Read online

  “It is only her arm, Rosamond,” Rhys protested.

  Rosamond shot him a steely glance. “There are others,” she stated, and I ducked my head in embarrassment. Rhys just cleared his throat and walked out the door. Giles followed.

  As Rosamond helped me to peel off layer upon layer of sopping fabric, she found bruises running from the back of my left shoulder down to my thigh. There was a fist-sized wound at my hip. It had turned my underskirt pink with blood and still bled feebly. She cleaned up the scrapes on my head, arm and hip as quickly as possible and put some sort of salve on my bruises before helping me into a dry chemise and bundling me once more in a blanket.

  By the time she had finished patching me up, my exhaustion made it difficult to stand. After trying to help me walk a few steps, Rosamond called out, “Your Lordship!” He appeared immediately at the door. “She’s in no state to be walking up those stairs, sir.”

  With only that prompting, Rhys picked me up gently, blankets and all, and carried me from the room. Though he was as careful as possible, I still had to bite back a groan of pain as his arms pressed on my injuries. Rosamond bustled ahead of us and entered a room at the top of the stairs. “Just set her down. I’ll take it from here.”

  Rhys set me on my feet, made sure I had my balance, then gave me a nod and a small smile. I gazed after him, barely recalling my manners before he stepped out of sight. “Thank you, sir,” I managed to blurt. He just nodded once and closed the door.

  “You’ve certainly got the master in a bunch,” Rosamond commented.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked.

  “His Lordship isn’t usually so quiet, is all.” I didn’t know what she meant, so I gave no response. She worked in silence, removing the few pins that remained among my hair, then pulling back the covers on the bed. “I know you won’t be comfortable with all the pains ailing you, but I hope you can rest.”

  “Thank you.” I was already half asleep when I heard the door close behind her, but I didn’t slip off right away. My mind was too full of my ordeal, the memory of fleeing across the countryside racing through my head. The hours spent wandering in the dark and the rain had left a shadow of fear in my heart.

  My eyes remained wide open for a good portion of the night, the questions finally forcing their way into my mind now that I found myself in relative safety. A sick feeling settled in my stomach as I thought about my parents and what they must be thinking at this moment. What conclusion had they drawn when I did not return? What had happened to Nathaniel? Had he been able to return to the castle and tell the tale of our attackers? I had no way of knowing.

  Chapter 2

  MY MIND FELT muddled when I woke up in a bed that was not my own. I sat upright and winced at the pain in my shoulder as my memories came into focus. This was Fallon Manor. The rain pounding the roof, as well as the lack of light seeping through the window told me that I wouldn’t be going home today. The storm still raged.

  I sat up, maneuvering to the edge of the bed. I rested my head in my hand when it started to pound, then ran my fingers across my brow, feeling a cut and a substantial lump. How had this happened? Despite my title, I had never been targeted. And what of Nathaniel?

  I pursed my lips as I considered what my parents might be thinking at this moment. To say they would be worried didn’t quite cover it. After living through the abduction of my sister, Ella, my family would jump to the worst conclusions. They would think I’d been forcibly taken, which very well may have happened if I’d been caught. I had no idea what had become of Nathaniel and could only pray that he was not lying dead on the side of the road.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” I asked.

  “It’s Rosamond, dear. Might I come in?”

  I stood. “Yes.”

  She walked in and my lips trembled as I tried to make them turn up.

  “Having trouble?” she asked.

  I gave a reluctant nod, unused to requiring so much assistance.

  She walked over, examining my face before furrowing her brow. “What’s bothering you?” She reached out, drawing me down to sit beside her on the bed. “Is your shoulder giving you grief or are you worrying?”

  My eyes stung and I blinked several times. It would be so easy to break down in the arms of this gentle soul. “My family.” I cleared my throat. “They’ll think I was taken, or hurt, or killed; they’ll be so worried.”

  “Oh, don’t you be worrying about that, little one.” She carefully wrapped her arms around me. “You’ll just have to spend a cozy day here with us and then we’ll have you home in no time.”

  My mind wandered back to the events of last night, reliving the terror as I stared at the gray light beyond the window. “What time is it?” I asked, trying to distract myself.

  “Early afternoon.”

  I blinked. “I slept that long?” At home, I never slept much past sunrise.

  “You didn’t show up here until well past midnight. And with the thrashing you took, I’d imagine you’ll sleep a good deal of today as well.”

  “I should dress.” I cast my eyes about. “My clothes…”

  “They’re not fit to be worn, I’m afraid. Besides, you really shouldn’t be up yet.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be a bother.” I stood, but my head spun and I sank right back down.

  “You,” Rosamond stated in a voice of authority, “will stay right here.” She put my feet up on the bed and helped me sit back against the pillows. “I’ll go get you some food.”

  Despite my determination to be fine, Rosamond ended up being right. I spent the afternoon alternating between eating, sleeping, and visiting with Rosamond as she sat stitching this or mending that. She was both soft and stern, and had the uncanny ability of making me want to smile, though she was careful not to make me laugh. The deep bruises running down my side made any movement more difficult than it should have been.

  Rosamond alone tended to me that day. I had vague wonderings about the other servants, but spent an inordinate amount of time wondering about the Lord of the manor. I felt safe in his home, and reflected often on the few minutes I had spent with him the night before. Did he resent my presence here? He hadn’t seemed upset by me after he realized I wasn’t a vagrant. Then again, I was unused to being in a position where my presence might be unwanted, so how was I to know?

  I fell asleep that night with the rain still slashing the windows, and each time I jolted from sleep in the middle of the night, the room echoed with the same relentless drumming.

  Perhaps it was the absence of sound that woke me. As the fog cleared from my head, I realized that not only was the sound of rain gone, but there was sunlight glowing at the window.

  I slid from the bed, my jaw clenching as the ache seared my side. I stood, wobbling only for a moment, then reached for the dress that lay across the covers. Rosamond must have left it there for me. I stepped into it, reaching to fasten the back, but pain flared in my shoulder, thwarting my effort. I blew out a breath of frustration and sank down onto the bed, glaring at the wall.

  I needed to go home, but couldn’t even manage to dress myself.

  The knock at my door was a welcome relief.

  Rosamond bustled in when I bid her enter, with a beaming smile and a tray of food.

  “The master rode out himself early this morning to check how the roads have fared in this weather. He should be returning soon and we’ll see about getting you home.”

  I let out a breath, relieved to have ‘the master’s’ help.

  Rosamond set her tray on a table in the corner and I was just about to sit, drawn by the smell of biscuits and meat, when the sound of hoofbeats reached my ears. A memory of the cloaked rider flashed across my vision and I jolted.

  “It’s only His Lordship returning,” Rosamond informed me.

  I hobbled toward the door. “I can go home then.”

  She stopped me before I reached the door. “Of course, Miss Lily. But let’s lace up your dr
ess first, shall we?”

  I forced myself to stand still until my dress was secured, then rushed out of my room. “Where is he?”

  “Follow me, miss.” Rosamond took my hand and guided me through the house. I kept trying to move more quickly, but I was too stiff. I went along as best I could, gritting my teeth against the pain. We went down the stairs and then headed to the back of the house, through the kitchen and out the door. Rhys was dismounting just outside the stables and I tried to run to him, but ended up limping instead.

  As soon as Rhys saw me, he came to meet me. “Miss Lily, you should be inside.”

  I took hold of his forearms when I reached him. “Will you take me home now, please?”

  “Let’s go inside.” He tried to turn me toward the door, but I tightened my grip.

  “Please, my family! They don’t know what happened to me.”

  He turned to face me, compassion written in his eyes. “I couldn’t get through. The roads are a mess. Do you live across the river?”

  “Yes.”

  “The bridge has been completely submerged. It may be gone altogether.”

  “A boat—”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Perhaps in a day or two. But the river is running too high and too fast right now.”

  I sighed. He managed to turn me toward the house and put a supporting arm around my waist. “Let’s go inside.”

  We settled in the kitchen and Rosamond bustled about, preparing breakfast while Rhys went upstairs to change out of his mud-caked clothing. I sat silent, lost in my worry. My staring out the window was interrupted when Rosamond set a hearty plate in front of me. My stomach clenched in anticipation as Rhys returned and took his seat.

  The meal was simple and delicious. I felt enlivened after eating, but winced when I stood.

  Rhys came to his feet.

  “Don’t you worry, Your Lordship,” Rosamond lilted. “The little one is just stiff, I’m sure.” She put an arm around me. “How about we take a nice slow walk up to your room, see if we can’t work some of the stiffness out.”

  “Yes, thank you.” I tried to walk normally, but didn’t succeed.

  “We’ll get you all cleaned up and then see how you feel.”

  I put a hand to my hair and sighed in disgust. It had been through a great deal since yesterday morning, and I was certain I looked the worse for wear. My sister Lorraina would disown me if she were to see me in such a state. For her, appearances were paramount.

  We made our way up the stairs, Rosamond encouraging me to walk on my own but at a reasonable pace. My frantic flight out of the house this morning had aggravated my injuries.

  Reaching my room, she helped me out of my dress so that she could treat my wounds before throwing a clean chemise over my head. She crossed to a trunk in the corner. “I had Giles bring this up for you.” She pulled out a brush and some other niceties.

  “To whom do they belong?”

  She gave me a sad smile. “They belonged to Rhys’s mother when she was living.”

  “When did she die?”

  Rosamond started the arduous task of brushing out my hair. “She and Lord Fallon passed away only a day apart five years ago.”

  The stark realization that Rhys was Lord of this manor because of his parents’ untimely deaths weighed on my heart. Suddenly the name Fallon resonated with me. My father had known the late Lord Fallon. In fact, they had been great friends, as I recalled. I remembered my father’s sorrow over the passing of Lord and Lady Fallon when I was only thirteen, and wondered why I couldn’t remember meeting any of the family.

  “They died of sickness,” I said.

  “Yes, dearest.”

  “How old was Lord Fallon?”

  “You mean the late Lord Fallon, or Rhys?”

  “Rhys.” It felt strange saying his name out loud.

  “He was not quite twenty when it happened.”

  No wonder he had no time to pretend at being a socialite. To take charge of an estate at so young an age—when his parents had just died—I couldn’t imagine.

  Rosamond braided my hair, winding it around my head like a crown. It was a little girl’s fashion, but I didn’t mind. It cheered me a bit.

  I was ready to step back into the dress, but Rosamond pulled a different one from the wardrobe. It was a simple day dress that had once belonged to Rhys’s mother. She pulled the laces as tight as they would go, but it was still loose, for which I was grateful.

  “There we are, little one.” Rosamond stepped back to look at me. “Do you feel up to spending some time downstairs? I could use the company.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.”

  Her face lit up as she smiled at me then pulled my arm through hers. We walked downstairs at a measured pace. She seemed always aware of my injuries without drawing direct attention to them.

  We returned to the workroom where I had sat before the fire two nights before. It was actually just an extension of the kitchen, so I was able to watch as Rosamond bustled about with two other servants. They carried on a quiet discussion about the evening’s meal until one of the maids spoke up, quite forcefully.

  “But that’s the young master’s favorite.” Her indignant shriek made me stare.

  “I’m aware of that, Cora.” Rosamond seemed used to this sort of outburst.

  “He’ll not be happy if we serve it tonight.” It was an odd thing to say. I couldn’t think why Rhys would ever be unhappy about his favorite meal being served.

  “Perhaps not, but that’s not really your concern, is it? Now why don’t you tend to your responsibilities?”

  Cora frowned before bowing her head and scuffling from the room.

  The other servant dipped her head, excusing herself. “I’ll just be about my duties, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Juliann.”

  Rosamond put a few things in their place before joining me. She sat down to mend something, jumping easily into conversation. “So. Miss Lily. Or is it Lady Lily? I never really asked, did I?”

  I was caught off guard. “Uh. Miss is fine, thank you.”

  “You are a lady, though?” It was more of a statement than a question.

  I mentally reprimanded myself. If I were pretending not to be a lady, I should have said so definitively. Then again, I knew that Giles had taken note of my clothing. They likely wouldn’t believe me if I claimed to be of a lower class. “Yes,” I answered.

  “But I should call you ‘miss’?”

  “Yes, please.” Somehow it felt like less of a lie.

  “Well, that suits me just fine. Truth be told, we don’t hold to much formality around here.”

  I smiled, having noticed the lack of formality. “Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it’s due to the fact that we’ve known Rhys since he was a baby.”

  “But you still call him by his title.”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes not. And I don’t really think of it as a title. More of an endearment.” She looked up from her mending, pinning me with a knowing look. “He’s a right handsome lord, no?”

  My eyes dropped to my lap as my cheeks burned. Before I could answer, Rhys’s voice came from behind me. “Good grief, Rosamond, don’t taunt the poor girl.”

  I looked up as he sank into the chair beside mine. “You’ll have to excuse Rosamond. She lets her mouth run away with her far too often.”

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He sat there so casually, as though it were completely normal for him to be chatting with his servants. He treated Rosamond and Giles with more deference than was usual, but his sitting down with us in the servants’ workroom was more shock than I was prepared for. He caught my eye and I dropped my gaze to my hands, realizing my stare had reached the point of rudeness. I was so used to being Princess Lylin—used to the people of Dalthia being in awe of me—that finding myself in awe of someone else was disconcerting.

  “I don’t want to intrude,” Rhys began, “But I thought you might like a tour of the ma
nor—get a sense of your surroundings.”

  I blinked at the unexpected invitation and had to find my voice before I could speak. “Yes, thank you.” Rising to my feet, I found his hand at my elbow. Men didn’t usually treat me with such familiarity.

  Rosamond spoke up as we walked away. “If you end up outside, you be sure she gets a shawl on, understand?”

  I glanced over my shoulder—Rosamond’s attention remained on her work. Rhys chuckled under his breath, then turned and walked back. Rosamond held up a shawl, her eyes still on her work, and Rhys took it while trying to suppress a smile. He draped it over my shoulders. “I’ll take good care of her,” he called over his shoulder.

  We left the workroom and I sensed his gaze on me.

  “Shall we start outside?” he asked.

  I nodded and followed him as he crossed the entryway and opened the door. The sky was dim with residual clouds—clouds that could blow away to nothing or pour down buckets, depending on their mood. I prayed the storm was finished. I was stuck here until the land dried out, and while this was a pleasant place to be stranded, my anxiety over my parents was eating at my insides, as was my worry about Nathaniel. I had confidence in his skills with a sword, but there had been at least two men he would have had to deal with, and if there were more—I didn’t want to think of it.

  “I’m sorry I cannot take you home today.” Rhys’s voice was quiet, sincere.

  I continued to stare at the sky, barely registering his words. “It’s none of your fault.”

  “Your parents will worry?”

  His attempt at conversation forced me to focus on the present. “Exceedingly.”

  “Are you an only child?”

  I choked back a laugh, clearing my throat to cover the sound. “No. I have several sisters. I’m the youngest.”

  “Does your being the youngest make them more protective?”

  “I suppose it might. But their protectiveness has more to do with an incident several years ago than with my being the youngest. My sister was abducted a few years ago. It was hours before we found her.” His eyebrows shot up. I shrugged. “I know it shook my parents, my father especially.”