“It’s a beautiful building.” Lily paced its columned front, trying to focus on the tour and put tomorrow out of her mind. “What is it used for?”
“Ceremonies, mostly.” Rand caught up to her and took her hand. His palm felt cool and dry. “Matriculation, graduation, and the like. And the university’s printing presses are housed in the basement.”
“Can you see,” Kit put in, “the street-level windows that let in light? Wren greatly values natural light. He told me he based this building on the Theatre of Marcellus in Rome.”
Despite her unease, Lily didn’t miss the admiration in Kit’s voice. Or the touch of longing. “Have you seen the Theatre of Marcellus?”
“Sadly, I haven’t.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I’d be thrilled to study the great buildings on the Continent, but I’m afraid I’m hopeless with foreign tongues. I have nightmares of never finding my way home.”
“Rose has an excellent head for languages,” Lily told him.
Her sister swung to glare at her. If looks could kill, Lily thought, she’d be deader than the sculptured heads on the railing around the building.
And things had been going so well. Lily bit her lip. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at a random object in a graceless bid to smooth things over.
“The Tower of the Five Orders,” Kit enthused. “It’s the most unusual structure in all of Oxford.”
He led them through an archway, a short tunnel through a plain building, and into an open quadrangle. The buildings surrounding it were more imposing than the austere exterior would suggest. Many doors gave entrance, each with a Latin inscription in gold letters on a blue background.
Rose turned slowly, translating them all. “Grammar and history, logic, rhetoric. Music, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy. Philosophy.” And at the far end, “School of Medicine, School of Law, School of Theology.”
“Those three are the superior schools,” Rand explained. “Before attending any of those, one must pass each of the other schools first and receive his Master of Arts.”
Kit wandered closer to Rose again. “You are good at languages.”
She shrugged, but looked pleased. Kit was making progress, Lily thought. Flattery was one sure way to Rose’s heart.
He cleared his throat as he looked to Lily. “You asked about the tower.” It was a wondrous sight in the otherwise rather sobering surroundings. “The Five Orders display the different styles of classical architecture, distinguished by differing columns, bases, and pedestals. From the bottom to the top, oldest to newest, we have Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite.”
Rose looked more interested than Lily would have expected. “Who is sitting up there?”
“The statue? King James. Can you see that he’s holding a book? The Bodleian Library is behind you—it receives a copy of every new book ever published. As for the rest of the building…”
Lily listened with half an ear as Kit talked about the Gothic carving and pinnacles. Bells began ringing from the various towers of Oxford’s many colleges, their chimes all different yet harmonious. A beautiful sound. A sound she looked forward to hearing day after day, night after night, when she lived here with Rand, alone in their lovely, brand-new house.
For both their sakes, she hoped everything would work out so they could.
As though sensing her thoughts, he moved closer. When he took her hand again, she felt his thumb drawing circles on her palm, making her shiver. He smiled, not an inscrutable smile but one full of gentle teasing and unbridled affection. A smile that made her long to stay with him in this enchanting town forever. No matter what happened, she knew Oxford would always hold a special place in her heart, because it was so special to him.
He deserved to stay here. He’d already lost one home, one family. How unfair that a second home should be ripped from him, too. Lily wished passionately for Rand to build bridges with his father, but was it worth giving up everything he’d built here?
And yet, how could he have both?
THIRTY-TWO
THE ALLEY THAT separated the Spotted Cow inn from Rand’s property was dark and narrow. Lily clutched her cloak tighter around herself and glanced up at the clouds covering the moon.
It’s only fifty feet, she told herself. Should anyone approach you, Beatrix will draw blood with her claws, Jasper will nip off the poor soul’s toes, and Lady will peck out his eyes. Just go.
She made a run for it, careful of her footing on the slippery cobblestones, and arrived on his doorstep without incident. The house was dark and silent. She slammed the knocker against the big oak door, then waited, clutching her satchel and shivering in the damp, chilly air, until it finally creaked open.
“Lily?” Clearly baffled, Rand opened the door wider, then blinked as her three animal friends scampered in past him.
The expression on Rand’s face was priceless. The rest of him looked delicious, his hair tousled from sleep, his body wrapped in a dark brown brocade dressing gown tied loosely at his waist.
“May I come in?”
“Oh.” He blinked. “Of course.” Holding a candle with one hand, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and drew her inside. As he shut the door, he eyed the assorted creatures. “How on earth did they get to Oxford?”
”I told you, they follow me.” She placed her satchel by the door and drew back her hood.
“They follow you,” he repeated dryly, as though that explained nothing at all. “What are you doing here?”
“I must speak with you.” She had the sudden urge to slip her hands beneath his silk dressing gown, but that was so shocking an idea that she instinctively moved from his grasp.
He looked suddenly grim. “Lily…if this is about Rose, please do not—”
“It’s not about Rose,” she interrupted, her teeth chattering.
“You’re cold.” He moved closer again and rubbed her arms and back with his free hand. “Then you’re not here
