Catherine Archer - Winter's Bride

Yet deep inside he felt the stirring of an emotion he could barely allow himself to acknowledge. Hope. Tristan knew he could not let himself hope.

Lily had a life that had nothing to do with him now. If he agreed to this it would be for the sake of her finding out her own truth, and not connected to him in any way. “Are you certain that you wish to do this? Your fiancé is awaiting your arrival.” He was relieved that there was no hint of regret or bitterness in his tone.

Lily knew that she had to do this. It was the only way she could go on from here without the thought of it all preying upon her mind like a gnawing hound. “I will send a note to Treanly, telling Maxim—”

“Treanly,” Tristan interrupted, incredulous. How much worse could this situation get, that she would be marrying Maxim Harcourt, the sworn enemy of his own family?

Lily seemed oblivious to his ire. “Yes, I must tell him that I am safe and he is not to worry. It is partly for his sake that I must discover the truth. If I go to him now without settling this in my own mind, understanding how it is that I do know you, it will not be as wholly as he deserves.”

Lily thought she saw Tristan grimace at the last words, but the impression was quickly gone as he replied, “I will take you to see Sabina. But you must promise me this. You must not tell her or anyone else who you are. If it is your intent to only seek truth for your own benefit, so that you may go on with your life in peace, I will allow it. Anything else would not be fair to her, considering your commitments to your future husband. We have made a good life, and I will not have it disturbed.”

Lily listened to this very carefully. Now, though he seemed prepared to take her to the child, he appeared to wish for this to happen without disruption to his own life. His stipulations seemed odd considering that the most likely explanation for all of this was that he was making it up. What his motives might be for inventing such a tale, she had no idea.

Tristan seemed to have gained complete control of his feelings. There was no longer any hint of yearning in his voice or eyes. The only emotion she could see in him now was the irritation he tried to hide at her saying that he might be lying.

Yet though so much was unclear to her, she was not afraid of this man. Surely, had he wished to harm her, he could have done so already.

It had been her own suggestion that she see the child for herself.

Her thoughts rolled on until she took a deep breath and halted them. None of this would change anything. Enough had occurred this day to make her realize that she had to see for herself, to confirm the fact that he was indeed lying, for whatever reason, so that she could go on with her life.

She nodded. “I will tell no one.” She paused. “Not that I expect there to be anything to tell. As I said before, my family loved and cared for me when I was at my most vulnerable. They would not behave as you have suggested.”

He shrugged. When he spoke, she told herself his distant tone caused her no sense of regret whatsoever. “I will say that I have engaged you as a maid for Sabina. That way you will have just cause to spend time with her without drawing comment. Then, when you are ready to leave Brackenmoore, you can do so with as little disruption as possible.”

She nodded again, calling pride to the fore in the face of his indifference. “That would be for the best. I do not know what is going on here. In the remote possibility that I am wrong—” she met his gaze directly “—and it is remote, I will do what I can to discover the truth. But make no mistake, should you wish me harm, you will face retribution for your acts. If you know of my family as you claim, you know they are not without the resources to repay you in kind.”

In spite of his own reaction of ire, Tristan could not help the feelings of admiration for her as he took in her proudly tilted head and determined face. As fragile as she appeared on the outside, there were still some signs of that unshakable will that had once been so much a part of her. It was one of the things he had most loved about her.

Tristan felt an urge to warn her about Harcourt, to tell her just the kind of man he was. That her loyalty was indeed misplaced in such as he. Yet Tristan knew she would not heed him. What he had told her of her family had already been too great a stress on the locked doors in her mind. Perhaps, if things changed, if she began to recall…But he would place no hope in that. He had no hope left.

He took a deep breath and turned away, for just looking at her made him long for a time that was gone, never to return. If she had been a different woman, not the Lily he had loved from the first day they met, none of this would ever have happened. He would not be faced with losing her once more.

He told himself that he would not regret it when she returned to Maxim Harcourt. Her loyalty to her family was absolute and unlikely to change. Things were as they must be.

He drew himself up stiffly, resolutely. “I will send one of the serving women with something for you to wear. Please make ready for the journey as quickly as you can.”

Rigidly, she nodded. “I will give you no cause for displeasure, my lord.” She paused then for a long moment, and he saw the heat that rose in her cheeks as she took a deep breath. “I…there is one more thing. What happened here was a terrible mistake. I can only imagine that my relief at discovering that you did not mean to kill me left me completely vulnerable to my baser emotions. You must understand that I cannot allow this to occur again. Such behavior is quite unlike me, I can assure you.”

Tristan watched her with both respect and consternation. He did admire her ability to overcome her own obvious aversion to even mentioning the event. Yet on another level, he was annoyed that she could so coolly explain away what had taken place between them. He could tell her that such behavior had indeed been quite like her, as far as the two of them were concerned.

But what did it matter what she thought?

He also knew they could not allow it to happen again. Though theirs was no true romantic liaison, he loved Genevieve as a sister, and she deserved better from him. He replied simply, “I agree most heartily. I also overreacted to seeing you so unexpectedly. You are the Lily I once knew. However, no matter what might happen at Brackenmoore as far as your memory is concerned, you are no longer she. I also have a new life. I must tell you that I, too, am engaged to be married—to my brother’s ward, Genevieve Redgreaves. We will never speak of what occurred here again.”

Her eyes widened as he finished, then she nodded very quickly, turning her back to him. Her voice seemed bright with satisfaction as she replied, “That is very well then. We will never speak of it again.”

Her obvious relief was unexpectedly disturbing. She did not face him as he said, “I will have some things brought up to you so you may make ready for our journey.”

She gave a brief nod and spoke with cool indifference. “Thank you, my lord.”

Unaccountably frustrated with her demeanor, he bowed briefly and strode from the chamber without a backward glance.

Brackenmoore.

Lily’s hands felt like they were carved from ice as she peered through the evening gloom toward the very dark and imposing edifice of the castle. It seemed to fairly loom over the curtain wall like an enormous coiled dragon, and the salty tang of the nearby sea aided her imagination in the creation of reptilian scales for the beast. Her numb fingers fumbled as the white mare Tristan had given her to ride seemed to balk at the sight as well.

In one of their few and extremely brief exchanges of the day, Tristan had explained that he lived here with his family. He had said that he felt it was of benefit to Sabina to be near them—and his intended bride, Genevieve.