“‘By the time she learns our whereabouts’?”
Rose almost smiled. “I have a plan.”
Lily wanted to laugh, thinking it sounded an awful lot like the plan she herself had described to Rand. Perhaps the two sisters were more alike than they’d realized.
But then her amusement faded as doubt flooded in. She searched Rose’s eyes carefully, but their black depths betrayed nothing. “Why are you doing this for me, Rose?
Looking solemn, Rose touched Lily’s arm, a fairly affectionate gesture for her. She wasn’t the cuddly type. “I’ve been angry with you, Lily. And I haven’t quite forgiven you yet.” A hint of warmth seemed to creep into that cool tone of voice. “But you’re still my sister.”
THIRTY-FIVE
WHEN THE
Ashcrofts arrived at Trentingham, the girls immediately asked their mother’s permission to visit Violet and the twins. Mum raised a brow, perhaps wondering at the abrupt restoration of Lily and Rose’s friendship, but only bid them return in time for supper.
Then came Rose’s role: sweet-talking Tilney, the young coachman who’d written her sonnets when she was sixteen, into readying a carriage and bringing it round to the end of the drive, where they could meet out of view of the mansion.
Meanwhile, Lily withdrew to her bedchamber to pack a fresh case; they’d be traveling light since they couldn’t ring for a footman without risking discovery. She was seated at her white dressing table, scribbling, when a light knock came at the door and Rose entered, hauling her own reduced luggage. “Nearly finished?” she puffed.
“Finished.” Lily placed the note on her bed, praying it wouldn’t be found until she and Rose failed to turn up for supper.
Hiding their small cases beneath their cloaks, the girls quit the house by way of the back door, then made a dash for their father’s orchards. Staying under tree cover made for a roundabout route, but it was far safer than cutting through the garden, where they’d be exposed to all the west-facing windows. Lily grew hot and out of breath, but they made it to the end of the drive soon enough, and without incident.
Except for the fact that their mother stood beside the carriage, chatting amiably with Tilney.
“Mum!” they both gasped, exchanging a panicked look.
Lily wiped sweat from her brow. “Are you off on a visit, too?” she asked in what she hoped was an airy manner.
“No,” Mum said pleasantly. “I was simply telling Tilney here that he ought to meet the blacksmith’s niece down in the village. She’s visiting from Kent, you know. Lovely girl.”
Tilney looked embarrassed, though not displeased.
“Well, we’d better be off,” Rose said, making a show of glancing at the sun. “It’s only a couple hours until supper time.”
But Mum didn’t budge, and she was blocking the carriage steps. “What’s that you’re carrying, my loves?”
The sisters exchanged another look. “Gifts,” Lily improvised. “Toys for Violet’s children. We did some shopping during our walking tour yesterday.”
“Exactly,” Rose put in.
“Oh, how darling! May I see?”
“Um…” While Rose’s cheeks slowly heated, Mum reached into her pocket and pulled out Lily’s note.
Lily’s case slipped from her fingers.
Mum turned to Tilney. “Would you be so good as to give us a moment alone?” When he was out of earshot, she looked back to her daughters. “I never imagined you would lie to me about something like this,” she said quietly.
Lily glanced up to see her mother’s eyes lingering on her, expressing particular disappointment in her youngest daughter. The sweet one. The good girl.
Or so she used to be.
Perhaps being bad wasn’t such a good thing, after all. She certainly didn’t feel good right now. Her eyes were itchy with threatening tears, her insides squirming with remorse.
When her daughters still held their silence, Mum sighed. “Well, I can see you’re bent on going to him, Lily. I just wish you’d felt you could tell me so yourself.”
Lily’s eyebrows shot up. Her mother couldn’t mean… “You’re letting me go?”
Mum gave a rueful laugh. “You’ve got two working legs and a cunning mind, so I can hardly stop you. I’ll not have you traveling alone, however. I’d take you myself if Rowan didn’t need me, but…” She frowned. “Rose, are you certain you don’t mind accompanying her?”
“Of course not.” Setting down her case, Rose flexed her fingers. “It was all my idea.”
“Was it?” Mum looked taken aback, then thoughtful. “All right, if you’re sure,” she said finally, and shifted to regard both of her daughters. “I feel terribly queer sending Hawkridge uninvited guests, but I trust Rand will take care of you—and see you safely home should the marquess take exception. You two will doubtless mind your manners”—here her eyes lingered on Rose—“and be gracious to your host.”
“Yes, Mum,” Rose muttered.
“And in return,” their mother continued earnestly, “you must both promise that you’ll talk to me from now on.” Eyes softening, she reached to tidy one of Lily’s curls. “I’m not thrilled about this little excursion of yours, but it’s still a thousand times better than your running away. You must know that? That the very last thing I want is to drive my children away from me?”
“I do know that. I do.” Lily swiped at her damp eyes. “I’m sorry, Mum. I don’t know what came over me.”
Her mother smiled. “Love makes us do foolish things sometimes.”
Lily nodded gratefully.
“Now, where did Tilney get to?” Mum put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, and the coachman appeared at once. “Will you kindly drive us back to the house?”
“What?” Lily dropped the case she’d just picked up.
“Have you changed your mind?” Rose demanded.
Mum laughed and ushered them into the carriage. “We’re only returning to get the rest of your luggage. I expect you to represent Trentingham creditably.” She winked at Lily. “I hear Hawkridge Hall is very grand, and you’ll want to be looking your best.”
