Catching Lily’s gaze, he smiled tentatively before shutting the door.
TEN
SHE’D OVERSLEPT. She never overslept. Moving to the last animal’s bowl to fill it with fresh water, Lily yawned, still blinking away the cobwebs of a restless night—a night filled with dreams of silvery gray eyes and smooth, tanned skin.
She looked around the barn, happy that her chores were finished. The enclosures were clean; all the creatures had been fed, splints checked, matted fur brushed out till it shone. In comparison, she imagined she looked like something the cat had dragged in, but now that she was done, she would sneak back into the house through a servants’ entrance to make herself presentable.
She set down the water pitcher and brushed straw off the plain green gown she’d thrown on upon awakening—then froze when she heard voices outside the barn.
“The knot garden is over there,” Rose was saying sweetly.
“Ah, but your sister keeps her animals in here, doesn’t she?” Rand’s rich baritone was unmistakable. “I wouldn’t mind a glimpse of them.”
Or was it Lily herself he was hoping to glimpse? she wondered—then bit her lip.
She’d promised. She’d promised. She’d promised. How many more times would she have to remind herself? Wasn’t her sister’s happiness more important to her than a foolish infatuation?
Light flooded the dim, cavernous interior when the barn’s double doors opened. As Rand and Rose stepped inside, Lily shoved her unkempt hair farther under the hat she’d jammed on her head to cover it. She managed to resist pinching color into her cheeks.
“Good morning,” she said brightly.
Rand smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Avoiding Rose’s scowl, Lily knelt beside one of the pens to pet a fox cub.
“I’ve never seen one hold still before.” Rand’s footsteps crunched on the straw as he walked nearer and crouched close by. “They always run from people. They even run if they catch you watching them from a window.”
“This one cannot run.” She showed him the broken leg she’d splinted.
“But she doesn’t seem frightened.”
“He,” Lily corrected. The small fox wagged its white-tipped tail. “And why should he be frightened?”
A spell of silence followed, filled only by rustling and the assorted noises of animals, as Rand tilted his head and studied her. “No reason,” he conceded finally. “You’re very gentle.”
The tone of his voice made her go still. “Anyone can be.”
“Not anyone.” He stood. “What else do you have in your care?”
She rose and walked along the pens that crowded a corner of the barn, stopping where a spotted fawn nuzzled her with his nose. “Meet Timothy—”
“Timothy?”
“He looks like a Timothy, doesn’t he? He lost his mother.” Feeding the baby deer a handful of grass, she leaned to the neighboring pen to lift the cloth draping a deep basket. “And here’s a rat—”
“A rat?” He stared at the creature in question, a fat, furry brown rodent that never failed to make her smile. “You would save a rat?”
“Randolph was hurt. But he’s recovered quite nicely. I may set him free later today.”
“To be eaten by a cat, no doubt.”
“Not my cats. My cats are his friends. Besides, it would be cruel to keep him confined when he’s well enough to roam.” Timothy had finished his treat, so she wiped her hand on her skirts and moved to the next enclosure. “Over here I have a badger, but he’s sleeping.” She indicated a black-and-white snout poking out from a pile of old blankets. “They’re nocturnal, you may know. And little Harold here is sleeping, too.”
“A hedgehog?” Rand’s eyes radiated amusement.
At the other end of the barn, a door opened. Lily’s brother started in, then spotted them and began backing out.
“I’m finished, Rowan,” she called. “You can come play with the animals.”
“Maybe later.” He slammed the door shut.
Rose laid a possessive hand on Rand’s arm. “Shall we go see the gardens now?” she asked sweetly.
“Your father’s gardens are quite extensive, aren’t they? I really must be getting to Ford’s house. I promised him help. If I might borrow a mount—”
“Of course,” Rose said with a smile. “Our stables are much more impressive than this old barn. And I shall ride with you to show you the way.”
“I think I can find Lakefield on my own.”
No doubt he could, since Lakefield’s lands bordered Trentingham, accessible by both the road and the river. But Rose wouldn’t be deterred. “I should like to come along. Perhaps I can help Violet. Twins can be a handful, you know.”
Lily suppressed a laugh. Rose had never shown the slightest interest in helping Violet before. But it was good, she decided, for Rose to appear maternal. A gentleman looking for a wife would also be thinking in terms of a mother for his children.
“Well, then,” Rand said easily, “we shall have a nice ride. You’ll join us, Lily, won’t you?”
“I—what?” she asked, taken off guard.
“Lily has yet to eat breakfast,” Rose pointed out, having doubtless noticed her absence at the breakfast table. She did, at least, tactfully forgo mentioning that Lily wasn’t properly groomed for a visit, either. Why, Rose was progressing by leaps and bounds. “She can join us later.”
“Nonsense,” Rand returned. “We’ll wait. In the meantime, you wanted to show me the gardens?”
A smile lit Rose’s eyes. Lily followed them out of the barn, turning toward the house while her sister led Rand in the other direction.
Mere seconds later, Rose’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Rowan Ashcroft, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”
That sounded very maternal. Lily hurried around the back of the barn, arriving just in time to see her brother tug a thin wooden stick through a fold of paper, the friction producing a hiss. As the wood burst into flame, he looked up and gave a grinning answer to Rose’s question. “I’m making fire.”
The grin vanished as the sliver of wood burned close to his
