Jacqueline Navin - The Flower And The Sword

“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 mouth. “Elspeth,” her clipped voice rang out The youngest Marshand started. “We did not see you at supper.”

“I was praying.” Elspeth’s answer was barely audible.

“And Lily,” Catherine continued, leveling a shriveling gaze at her sister. “You disgraced our family with your dress and your appalling blunder.”

The painful memory of mistaking Lord Rogan for the duke caught Lily off guard, though not for the sake of Catherine’s censure. What had Rogan thought of the mistake? Did he think her a fool?

Catherine said, “You made an utter idiot of yourself.”

Lily felt a deep flush of shame, hating herself for letting Catherine best her. She knew her hateful ploys, but that didn’t make her immune.

“Sister,” Elspeth said, her voice almost a whisper. “I am sorry to hear of your terrible news.”

With no overt movement of a single muscle, Catherine’s face transformed feature by feature into a mask of rage. Elspeth cringed, mewling a small noise that reached Lily’s ear and erased her self-preoccupation with a swell of protective anger. Lily stood and went to Elspeth’s side.

“Yes, little one,” Catherine said, her tone clipped and cool, betraying nothing. “It seems as though I will not be wed as planned.” Again, a shift so subtle it was more felt than seen. When she spoke, her eyes shone like twin blades, fierce and sharp. “But all is not lost. There are ways to turn misfortune to advantage.”

Lily stepped in front of her little sister, seeing one of Catherine’s moods brewing and knowing how Elspeth dreaded them. “Do not sow your mischief, Catherine. Lord Rogan is an honorable man. He has come to make amends.”

Catherine gave her a withering glare. “And he will.”

In a moment, she changed again, shifting her posture and giving Lily an assessing glance. By her expression, she apparently found her subject wanting. “While they are here, Lily, I do not want you embarrassing us any further. You do not seem to be able to conduct yourself properly. I think it would be wise if you kept busy in your chamber, or in the solar with the other ladies, studying your needlework.”

Lily narrowed her eyes and jammed her fist on one hip. “You are not Mother, Catherine. She would never have spoken to us so. She was kind and gentle and would not have liked in the least the way you rule this castle with an iron fist. I will not have you mistreating Elspeth. And I will certainly not hide myself away simply because you dislike me.”

“We shall see,” she said in a brittle voice.