The Willows (16 page)

Twirling happily, she was so caught up
in fantasy, she did not hear her cousin enter the room.”

“
Does your daddy know you
are wearing that down?” Edith’s sharp tone cut the fantasy to
shreds. “He’s not that far gone he won’t recognize it. Everyone in
the parish will know it was once answered Amanda’s.”

In her mind, Gwen could see father
standing in the doorway, staking her for mother, before slamming
the door in her face. “He won’t mind?” She said lying. “It is time
this old thing got some use anyway.”

When shook her head, denying this,
though she feared her cousin could be right. Still, she wanted this
dress-needed it-to help find the confidence to go out on that
field. Though she could never admit it to her father-much less to
Edith-Gwen was scared half to death. “Daddy will understand. Today
of all days, he will want me looking my best.”

“
Do you truly think he cares
what you look like, today or any other day?”

Refusing to listen to her spiteful
talks, Gwen daintily lifted her skirt’s, not having a hoop, she’d
been forced to dawn several petticoats, which not only left her
faint from the heat, but made it quite hard to navigate.

By the time Gwen gathered enough
material to keep from tripping, Edith, whose yellow muslin skirt
looked like the Liberty Bell, blocked the doorway. “Stop making
excuses, Gwen. You cannot keep running away from the truth. I
declare, isn’t it time you admit your father doesn’t care about
what happens to you? Uncle John does not love you. And for that
matter, neither does Lance.”

Stunned by her cousins attack, Gwen
froze, her hands tightening on the silk. “That is not true,” she
protested. “Lance will not be out there competing today, if he did
not love me.”

“
It’s not you he is
competing for. It is the Willows”

“
You are jealous, Edith. You
always have been.”

“
It is all just a show, the
only way he and daddy knew to trick you into participating. They
need the money, you know”

Shaking her head viciously, Gwen
dropped the silk “what a hateful thing to say. Lance does love me.
He has sworn to protect me always.”

Edith’s voice took on a brittle edge.
“Maybe he has found someone else to love and protect, I think he
means to lose today. Indeed, I am so certain of it, I am willing to
bet my pearl necklace for your…” Her eyes settled on Gwen’s neck,
“… Your mother’s locket.”

Gwen reach for the locket, closing her
hands around it. “Why are you doing this, I know we have never
gotten on, but to say such things to me, now when I’m scared what
the day will bring-can you truly hate me that much?”

Gwen looked away, into the mirror, as
if talking to her reflection instead. “Maybe I’m tired of
everything going your way and you thinking it’s your doing. Just
once, it would be nice to see the high and mighty Queen Gwen taken
down a little.”

One tried to push past her cousin. “I
hate to disappoint you, but-“

“
Lance will not claim you,”
Edith said through her teeth, crossing her arms as she continue to
block the door. “You can bet money on it.”

“
Money?” By now, Gwen was
angry. “Neither of us has a penny. I guess we will have to wager
your pearls against my locket. I do hope you are ready to part with
that necklace by the end of the day.”

This time, Edith moved out of the way,
now that the damage was done, and Gwen confidence sorely shaken.
Hurrying down the hallway, Gwen realized that her entire future
would be decided before the sun set, and she must rely upon others
to settle it. Though she did not for a moment suppose Lance would
deliberately lose, she had an overwhelming need to see him now, to
hear his assurance. To have him hold her, soothe her, convince her
that he lived to protector and not just for today, but
always.

Lifting her skirts as she raced off to
find him, Gwen did not see her cousin behind her, watching and
biting her lip.

***

Busy attaching the silver streamers to
his spear, Lance mentally patted himself on the back. He knew he
cut quite a figure into his white breeches and silver trimmed
tunic. It pleased him no ends that he looked every inch the dashing
knight, the perfect heir apparent to the throne of the Willows.
When he rode out onto the field, every head would turn and smile
with recognition, knowing that by the days and, Lance would be the
new Lord and master.

Ah yes, everything was proceeding
according to plan. He would win Gwen’s hand, he would wed her and
that her, and get her with child, just as his mother
demanded.

Once all was settled, when he had the
Willows back on its feet again, he will live his life as he chose.
That was the reason for great wealth, his father had taught, to
give a man the means of following his heart’s desire. And his
desire, at this moment, centered on Edith.

She was teasing him, the little
temptress, offering him just enough to drive him mad with lust,
then withdrawing to hide behind her father’s displeasure. If Lance
did not need Jervis’s help so badly right now, he would have put
the female on her back, right here in this very stable, and on more
than one occasion.

He smiled, thinking how clever he was,
giving them Bella Oaks in exchange for the Willows. By keeping
Edith near, he could take his pleasure of her whenever he
needed.

He would need her often, for each held
no illusions of any grand passion in his marriage. There are two
women in this world, mama insisted, the strumpet and the lady, and
woe to the man who confuse them. The good Lord put strumpet’s on
this Earth to deal with man’s beastly needs, so his lady could
remain above his animal passions. A man could take his pleasure
with his mistress, but bedding his wife must be a chaste and sacred
occasion.

“
Lance?”

He turned to the sound of Gwen’s voice,
pasting a smile on his face. No sense letting her know his plans,
at least not until the ring was on her finger. “Gwen, my love. What
brings you here to the stables?”

“
I just…” Stood by the door,
biding her lips. “You will win today, won’t you?” She said in a
rush. “Please, Lance, promise me you will.”

“
I have told you again and
again that I shall.” Try as he might, Lance could not keep
irritation from slipping into his tone.

“
I know, but, Lance, I
cannot bear it if I had to marry a stranger. I just cannot bear
it.”

“
What is it?” He strode over
to stand before her. “You cannot doubt me? You know I should always
be your champion.”

She nodded, but the fingers toying with
her locket trembled. Taking her hands in his, shook his head. “Your
hands are cold as ice.”

“
Warm me then, Lance,” he
said quietly, gazing up at him. “Kiss me.”

He nearly refused. He knew he should
remind her that a gentleman did not service his lady in a stable,
and certainly not mere moments before and important competition,
but he also realized that it kissing Gwen would make her less
skittish about the upcoming moments, it would be well worth the
effort.

Meaning down, he brushed her lips with
his own. There was a simple kiss and quietly pleasant. “There,” he
said, dropping her hands as he pulled away. “Do you feel
better?”

She nodded, dazed and breathless of
speech. Typical female, he thought, but then, more indulgently, he
granted that it was her first kiss.

“
You run along no and go
take your seat,” he said, turning her toward the door. “I will need
my lady cheering for me when I make my grand entrance. You do have
my token, I hope? I want every man there to see you granting your
favor to me.”

Again she nodded, but a crease appeared
between her brows. “Go along, “he pushed, recognizing that the
expression. It generally preceded a difficult question, or worse, a
scene. “Hurry, or you will be late, and we certainly don’t want to
risk angering your father today.”

He notched her toward, until her feet
began to move on their own. As she passed through the door, he
noticed she touched her lips. No doubt remembering of the moment he
would be kissing her again.

Well pleased with himself, he turned
back to his horse, but as he did, he saw a flash of yellow out the
corner of his right. Tensed, instantly on guard. He could ill
afford to have the other entrants see his second mount, the
striking white steed in the far stall. If and when it came time to
joust, Lance wanted the animal to be a complete an unpleasant
surprise.

***

Jervis headed toward the playing field,
looking for Edith. The way folks filled up through the front gate,
he had decided, one of them should be there to greet their guests.
Since service needed to settle Gwen and John to their seats, only
Edith was expendable. Let her man to the gate and pretend all was
as if should be, though in truth, this was proving to be a somewhat
less than spectacle of fair.

Gwen did not know-and Jervis say no
reason to tell her-that the local gentry looked down there noses at
the notion of men competing for her hand. Here hypocrites, every
last one of them, professing this competition but need them. Jervis
thought it a sheer case of sour grapes. They were too miserable to
watch with the participation fee, but they would come in drove us
to watch.

And they came expecting drama; he could
hear it in their voices, could feel their excitement flowing in the
air. Passing the stable where Lance groomed both his horses, Jervis
felt a tinge of foreboding. God help him if Lance did not do his
part.

Annoyed, Jervis told himself he was
absurd to let Edith’s questions and affect him with doubt. Hadn’t
they done everything but stand on their heads to guarantee Lance’s
victory? What could possibly go wrong?

Noticing his daughter hovering outside
the open stable door, he paused with a frown. Why was she hanging
about the stables again? He had sent her to fetch Gwen, to make
certain her cousin arrived at the field; what was Edith doing here
instead?

He watched her make a sudden dash for
the house, clearly upset and acting like she had something to hide.
Had she been pestering Lance? Jervis wondered irritably, cursing
the girl’s foolishness. Nothing must distract Lance from the
competition, for his marriage to Gwen. Not when his entire future
hinged upon that ceremony taking place today.

Making a mental note to talk with his
daughter, he noticed Gwen strolling out of the stable in some sort
of a daze, Lance strutting like a peacock behind her. Young Lance
had obviously been busy, Jervis thought, much relieved. Unless he
was badly mistaken, it was a girl who had been recently
kissed.

Greening, he dismissed his worries
about his daughter and Lance. After all, what man in his right mind
would risk losing Gwen for Edith? Oh, she was an exemplary
daughter, and a decent cook, but certainly not the
prize.

As he looked at his niece and noticed
her distraction, he decided to escort Gwen to the field. With all
that was writing on today’s outcome, he dare not risk that she
might panic at the last moment and runaway.

“
My, my, you aren’t a
vision,” he told Gwen as he steered her toward the playing field.
“You look so lovely, Gwen, your father and I will be beating the
boys off with a stick.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Lance
did not seem to notice.”

Jervis frowned. “I am certain he did,
honey, but his mind is on other things. Winning the competition,
after all, means of winning your hand.”

“
Oh, uncle, he has to win
today.”

He put an arm around her, wondering why
you must have this conversation twice in two days. “Of course,
Lance will win. Don’t you worry, we won’t let anything happen to
our Gwen.”

“
You do all love me, don’t
you?”

He pulled away, generally surprise.
“What kind of question is that? We are your family, honey. We have
our differences, like all kinfolk, but want only the best for you.
And to my way of thinking, is exactly what Lance is.”

Her smile was a lip attempt. “Maybe,
but daddy is liable to be angry when he learns Lance is in the
competition. What will he do if he refuses to accept our
marriage?”

He tensed, wondering if she somehow
knew about the trust fund. “Is your daddy’s approval all that
important?” He probed. “I mean, if he won’t accept Lance, will it
make any difference in how feel about him?”

“
I suppose not.” She sighed.
“I am a grown woman now, and I must make my own choices. Even if…”
She touched her lips, then set them in a tight line. “I’ve sworn to
marry the winner and I will, no matter what.”

“
That is our Gwen.” Patting
her on the shoulder, gestured toward the grandstand now looming
before them. He tried to hide his annoyance at not finding his
brother there, but a good measure of it crept into his tone. “You
go on and sit on your throne, honey. Looks like I’m going to have
to go fetch your father.”

“
I hope he is not drinking
already.”