Wild Bells to the Wild Sky (56 page)

But more than that, he had made her feel a stranger to herself, and for that she would never forgive him. He had cheated her. He had made her feel emotions she'd never experienced before. He had stolen from her something precious-her love. She had given her love to a man who could never love her. A man who didn't even know who she was.

With shaking hands, Lily tried to brush back her hair, but the long strands were tangled, and some of the flowers she'd woven into them had fallen to the ground, where they had been crushed beneath his feet. Lily felt her lips, wincing when she touched their bruised tenderness. In her dreams, she had dreamed of Valentine Whitelaw, of his kisses, and yet the reality of it had been far different from her innocent imaginings. She sighed, trying to straighten her bodice. She felt hot and uncomfortable and longed to wash herself clean of his touch, but when she smoothed the silk covering her breasts, the flesh tender now from his touch, she knew a deep longing to be held in his arms again.

Picking up her basket, Lily walked from under the trees, her steps
carrying
her unseeingly through the fair and the mass of people crowding close around her. She stared without a flicker of recognition into the oddly colored eyes of a well-dressed gentleman walking by, never seeing the smile that crossed his handsome face as she passed. She stumbled slightly when she neared their cart, and glancing down, she noticed the small leather purse of money Valentine Whitelaw had paid her with. A glint of anger flared in her eyes as she thought of the insult. Had she been worth the price? she wondered, remembering how his mouth had devoured hers. Tonight, he had said. He would come for her this evening. He had told her to be there. He would not let her forget him. It was not over yet, he had promised. Indeed it was not.

Lily smiled in anticipation of that meeting. She would be there, all right. But Valentine Whitelaw was in for a surprise, especially when she threw his money in his face for humiliating her. Lily's smile faded when she thought about how angry he would be when he discovered that she was Lily Francisca Christian. He would be
disbelieving
, then full of rage, then mortified to remember how he had held her and kissed her and admitted his desire for her. Oh, yes, Lily vowed with a glint in her eye, she would be there
tonight
. It was an assignation she would not miss if her life depended on it.

For the moment,
Lily
put the anticipated meeting form her mind, for ahead, she could see Tristram and Dulcie, sitting in the shade, with plates balanced precariously on their laps while they ate. Raphael sat beside his young mistress, towering over her and her plate, watchfully. Every few minutes, his big paw landed on her lap, reminding Dulcie that he too was hungry. But when he saw Lily approaching, he stood up, eyeing her suspiciously until he recognized her, then his tail started its dangerous wagging, nearly sending Tristram's plate flying form his lap.

"Oh, Mistress Lily," Tillie said, trying to rise from her seat in the back of the cart, where she sat beside Farley, Fairfax having stretched out beneath the shade of a large oak nearby. "I'll get ye some supper. Ye look tried to death."

"Stay seated, Tillie," Lily said, and Raphael barked and sat back down, returning his attention to Dulcie's supper.

"Why, ye've sold almost all of the posies," she exclaimed. "Oh, but Mistress Lily, ye do look flustered something awful. Did someone hit ye in the mouth? Looks kinda swollen. I'll get some salve fer it," she said, starting to rise again.

"I'll get it, Tillie dear," Farley offered kindly, unable to watch her trying to rise yet again. It was making him nervous.

" 'Tis all right, please don't bother. It just stings a little," Lily said, placing the basket in the back of the cart, the purse of gold coins tucked beneath her waistband.

"Did you get in the fight, Lily?" Tristram demanded, nearly choking on a mouthful of food as he eyed his
sister’s
disheveled appearance. "
Sure
looks as if you did."

"What fight?"

"You don't know, Lily?" Tristram asked, staring at her incredulously. "Where have you been for the last hour?"

"I've been busy. But what is this about a fight?" she said glancing around. "Where is Rom?"
"He's in town, with the constable and them officials, trying to make peace. There was a big fight t'other end of the fair, nearly ended up in the town, over that boy who stole the gentleman's purse. Seems the lad got beaten up pretty bad by one of the man's servants. Pretty ugly scene. Everyone got involved in it, even some of the townspeople. Surly bunch of louts. Lot of broken bones with all of the fists flying."

"Rom wasn't hurt, was he?" Lily demanded.

"No, that one knows how to take care of himself, though I reckon some of those he fought with can't say the same. I wouldn't save any food fer him, 'cause I reckon when he finishes there, he'll go to the council meeting. The elders called it early to discuss the fight and to decide if we are to be sent packin'," Farley said worriedly. "Been thinkin', Mistress Lily, what with that, and with winter comin' on in a few months and Tillie about ready to have the wee one, that we oughta find somewhere else to stay. Been all right, travelin' like we have, sleepin' 'neath the stars, but what happens when it starts to snow? Ain't goin' to be very good fer any o' us, especially the young 'uns, mistress."

Lily nodded. "I know, Farley. I too have been thinking that it is time we left the fair. I do not think even Rom can convince the others to let us stay, despite how he feels about us staying with him.

"Damned jealous, they be," Fairfax muttered. "Haven't lost a match yet, I haven't," he chuckled. "Still think one o' them burned us out o' the puppet show. Reckon they ain't as smart as they think. Heard a number of them grumblin' about losin' business 'cause the show wasn't bringin' in customers. Can't please some folk."

"I hope Rom won't anger them. They are his friends, and I don't want him to get thrown out with us. He has already done too much for us. We have another choice, but this is all Rom has."

"Reckon he'd like something more," Farley murmured.

"Where we goin' to go, Lily?" Tristram asked in surprise. "We can't go back to Highcross can we?"

"Are we still goin' to Maire Lester's?"

"No, I do not think that will be necessary now."
"What do you mean, Lily? Did she die? She's kinda old, isn't she?"

Lily drew a deep breath. "I saw Valentine Whitelaw today. He is back in England."

"Uncle Valentine! He's here,
Lily
!" Dulcie squealed excitedly.

"Valentine! Really, Lily?" Tristram said, grinning widely. "Where is he? Why didn't he come back with you? Didn't you talk to him?:

Lily glanced away guiltily. "No, I did not speak with him. I needed time to think about how we would explain what had happened at Highcross and why we are with the fair. I have sent a note to him to meet with me this evening, and we will talk," she lied, then added truthfully, "He will learn the truth then."

"Tonight? Is he coming here?" Tristram demanded, belatedly realizing that Valentine Whitelaw might indeed think it strange they were here in London. And he'd probably blame him for all that happened, Tristram thought, wishing he'd never gone into the churchyard that night.

"I thought it best to meet him away from the camp. It would only cause suspicion to have him come here."

"I always thought the captain was a good man, Mistress Lily. Glad to hear he's returned. Reckon he'll set things right with them villagers in East Highford," Farley declared, feeling better about things already.

"Can I come, too, Lily?" Tristram asked.

"Me, too!" Dulcie cried.

"No, I am not meeting him until evening, and it might be late before we finish our conversation. We have much to discuss, and I would
rather
speak with him alone. 'Twill be hard to explain," Lily said, some of her anticipated pleasure disappearing when she thought more about her proposed meeting with Valentine Whitelaw. "I want to change," she said suddenly. " 'Twas so hot today, I'm going to have to wash this gown before I wear it again," she added a trifle lamely, anxious to get out of her soiled gown.

Although he was hesitant to offer, Farley finally managed to find the nerve. "Maybe me and Fairfax oughta come with ye, Mistress Lily. Reckon I could explain about Fairfax and Tillie and me bein' with ye. Wouldn't want to cap'n to think we done something wrong. Reckon 'twill kinda look that way in his eyes," he said worriedly. And exchanging glances with Fairfax, who had opened a curious eye when he'd heard Farley's extraordinary offer, both remembered their first encounter with Valentine Whitelaw and his servant on the stairs at Highcross. No, Farley was certainly right, they didn't want the cap'n thinking ill of them.

"No, thank you anyway, Farley, but I do not think it will be a pleasant conversation. It might be wiser to allow Valentine Whitelaw to regain his composure before I even mention the part about you and Fairfax and Tristram hiding in the churchyard and frightening the reverend and the villagers half to death," Lily advised.

"Good idea," Fairfax quickly agreed, remembering the curved sword that foreign fellow wore at his hip.

"Might not even have to mention it at all," Farley went so far as to speculate. "Reckon if some people could keep their mouths shut about it..." he added.

"I wouldn't say anything, Farley!" Tristram declared stoutly; after all, it was his neck too.

Farley shook his head. "I wasn't thinkin' o' ye, Master Tristram," he said, eyeing his brother's lazy form instead.

"Ah, Farley, now ye know I woudn't be sayin' anything. Why, remember the time when ye and that maid- now what was her name? Well, don't matter," Fairfax began, hiding his grin when he saw Farley glance quickly at Tillie, who was staring at him in amazement.

"Here, Lily, you haven't eaten anything all day, I bet," Dulcie said, handing Lily a plate with a small wedge of cheese and a cold tart sitting proudly in the middle. "It's the last one," Dulcie told her, thinking it might enhance it some in her sister's eyes, but instead, Lily began to cry softly. She had forgotten all about the roasted squabs for their supper.

"Oh, Lily, what's wrong?" Dulcie cried, tears hovering close in her luminous eyes. "I told Tristram not to eat that other tart. I knew you'd be hungry."

"I'm sorry, Lily. I thought you wouldn't mind. You always give me the extra one, anyway," Tristram said, feeling horribly guilty about having eaten that last tart. "I did give half of it to Ruff," he added.

Lily shook her head, pulling them both close to her and giving them each a hug. "I'm not crying about that. I'm just a little tired. Here, I'm not even hungry. You split this tart, and I'll just have the cheese. I ate something earlier," she lied, handing each of them a piece of the tart.

Tristram eyed her suspiciously. "Are you certain, Lily?"

"Yes, I'm certain. Now do as I say!" she said, quickly wiping away her tears. "I do not want to hear another word about it," she warned, not seeing Tillie shake her head and exchanging an I-told-you-so glance with Farley, for they had both said Mistress Lily was getting far too thin.

"I want to wash away the dust before it gets dark," Lily told them, making her way to the small tent they'd put up between the cart and one of the low branches of the oak. "I intend to look my best when I meet with Valentine Whitelaw tonight. We are not beggars asking for handouts."

"Ye want me to give ye a hand, Mistress Lily?" Tillie asked, starting to rise, Farley's hand giving her a lift up. "We can bring some pails of water from the stream."

"Thank you, but I'll just wash in the stream. I won't be long," Lily said.

Gathering up her green velvet gown, a cloth for washing and drying herself, and her favorite scents, Lily made her way toward the stream that flowed just beyond the camp and closest to where they'd set up their tent. A thick copse of trees grew close to the bank and provided ample privacy. There was no one around to disturb her as Lily placed her clothes on a flat rock. With punishing strokes, Lily brushed her hair free of tangles. Braiding it over her shoulder, she secured it high atop her head. Slipping off her gown and petticoats and clad only in her smock, Lily waded into the cold water. She took her prized bar of soap and used just enough to cleanse the dust a perspiration form her legs and arms. She scrubbed her face clean, rinsing away the touch of Valentine Whitelaw.

As she stood in the middle of the stream, listening to its soft murmuring around her, she breathed deeply of the cooling air, still heavy with the pungent scent of the woods. Lily continued to stand with the water flowing around her calves. It had a soothing effect and she found herself wishing she could lie down and float with the waters as they flowed into the Thames.

The shadows were
lengthening
as the light began to fade and the shapes of the trees became dark silhouettes against the mauve sky. Suddenly Lily was alerted by the sound of a twig cracking loudly beneath someone's foot and a flock of startled birds took to the sky in fright.

"Who is there?" she demanded, angry that someone might be spying on her. "Please, who is it?"