THE NEXT DAY, Lily was feeling somewhat better and refused to stay in bed. Having always believed that looking better made one feel better, she chose a pretty periwinkle gown. When her maid dressed her hair, she asked her to wind silver ribbons through the curls to match the trim on her dress.
None of this, of course, had anything to do with the fact that Rand had said he’d be paying a call.
As her maid was finishing up, Rowan wandered in, looking much worse than she felt. His black hair stuck up in places, as though he’d been plowing his fingers through it, and his eyes appeared dark and haunted.
Lily nodded permission for the maid to take her leave, then turned to face her brother. “Rowan, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just…” He came closer and began playing with a perfume bottle on the dressing table where she was seated. “Did you tell Father and Mum about the fire-making things I took from Ford’s laboratory?”
“No, of course I didn’t.” She rubbed a hand over the back of his head, smoothing his hair where he’d mussed it. “That was between us.”
His narrow shoulders relaxed, then tensed again. “How about Rose? Did Rose tell them?”
“Not that I know of. Why are you so worried about this? It was a mistake, and you learned not to take things, didn’t you? Everyone makes mistakes.”
The bottle made a rhythmic noise as he ran it back and forth on the marble tabletop, its gold painted designs glinting in the sun from the window. “I thought…well, I thought maybe Father and Mum would think I started the fire with the fire-making things. But I didn’t have any of those things, I swear. I gave them all to Lord Randal, and I haven’t taken any more from Ford’s laboratory. Truly, Lily, I haven’t.” His hand stilled as he met her gaze in the mirror. “I…I just don’t want anyone to think the barn burned down because I was playing with Mr. Boyle’s fire-making things.”
“Nobody thinks that. Has anyone said that to you?”
He shook his head.
“Nobody is blaming anyone for starting the fire. These things happen, and we’re all happy that no one was hurt. It was an old barn that Father was planning to replace anyway.”
He looked relieved—almost—before he resumed playing with the bottle, making circles this time. “You know what you said about making mistakes? How everyone makes mistakes?”
“Yes, everyone does.” Goodness, did she know. She may have made the worst mistake of her life promising Rose.
“Well, I made one,” Rowan said. “A really bad one. I thought something would be funny, but it wasn’t. It went wrong, and it wasn’t funny at all.”
Her promise had gone wrong, too. Horribly wrong.
But knowing her brother, she was sure his mistake had been nothing like hers. Lucky for him, he wasn’t old enough to make such a monumental mistake. A mistake serious enough to ruin his whole life.
She put her hand over his, stopping the motion. “Was it a practical joke?”
Not looking at her, he nodded.
“Sometimes,” she said, “we don’t think things through before we do them.” She hadn’t thought at all before making that promise. Not for one moment. If she’d stopped to think, maybe she would have said no.
“But I feel terrible, Lily.”
She raised a hand to turn his face gently toward her, meeting his regretful green gaze. “If it was truly an honest mistake, you cannot let it make you feel so terrible. Just learn from it and act differently in the future. This mistake—did anyone get hurt?”
He shook his head violently.
“Then don’t be too hard on yourself. You shouldn’t suffer for the rest of your life because of one simple mistake.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t you even want to know what happened?”
“No. It’s between you and your conscience,” she told him, glad to find he had one. Her brother was growing up. Besides, it had only been a misfired prank. “Do you want to tell me?”
“No.” He smiled, a true smile. “You’re right. I shouldn’t suffer for the rest of my life. I think I’ll ride over to Benjamin’s house and see if he wants to go fishing.”
“You do that,” she said. And with one more grin, he was off, knocking over the pretty bottle in his mad rush to leave.
She righted the blown-glass container, wishing she could right her own wrong so easily. Hers had been a simple mistake, too, an honest mistake. A promise she’d made impulsively, never dreaming it would come back to haunt her.
Rand would be here this afternoon, and she hadn’t the faintest idea what she’d say to him. But he wouldn’t arrive for hours yet. Feeling restless but not up to anything strenuous, she decided to closet herself in the drawing room and pass the time with some soothing music.
As the chiming of the gilt mantel clock struck noon, Parkinson ushered her friend Judith inside.
“Keep playing,” Judith said with a wave of one plump hand. She walked closer and brushed her fingers over a bright new flower arrangement that Rose had set on a small table beside the harpsichord. “What’s this song?”
“I’m not sure.” Her fingers flying over the keys, Lily smiled. “Rand hums this sometimes.”
“It’s cheerful.”
“I thought if I could work out the notes, he might enjoy hearing it, whatever it is. He told me he would visit this afternoon, so—”
“Visit you in specific?” Judith looked delighted. “I knew there was something between you. Has he asked your father for your hand?”
“No!” Lily’s fingers stilled, the abrupt silence a statement all its own. “You know I’ve been told I can make my own decision,” she said quietly. “And Rose wants him.”
She couldn’t tell Judith about the promise, because suddenly she was embarrassed she’d even made it. But how could Rose have asked it of her? Like earlier in the week, anger burst forth, and she tried her best to push it back down inside.
Judith sat beside her on the bench. “You look sad,” she observed. “What do you want, Lily?”
“Does it matter? Rose is older.” Lily coughed. “She should wed first, don’t you think?”
“Nonsense. Not if you’re in love.” Judith paused while Lily coughed some more. Her tone turned melancholy. “I would give anything to be in love with Lord Grenville.”
Maybe Judith was right. If Lily truly loved Rand, should she suffer all her life because she’d made a simple mistake? What had she told Rowan?
But unlike Rowan’s mistake where no one had been hurt, breaking her promise would hurt someone. Someone she loved dearly, even though she was angry with her now.
Lily gazed at her friend, tears welling in her eyes for them both. Then she gave an enormous sneeze—a sneeze that made the flowers beside the harpsichord quiver.
They both laughed as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and noisily blew her nose.
“Lily,” Judith said. “I’m so sorry I made you ill.”
“It was worth it to see your wedding gown.” Wiping her eyes, Lily smiled. “You’re better now?”
“Much. I was really very ill for only a single day. The next day I was a little better, and the day following that, I was almost good as new.”
“Well, I was very ill yesterday, and I feel better today, so tomorrow I shall be good as new, too.”
“You’re so nice.” Judith’s golden curls swished as she shook her head, her voice laced with admiration. “How do you do it?”
Lily shrugged. “I’m not all that nice.” She didn’t feel all that nice, not inside, not when she was so angry with Rose.
“Yes, you are. Most folks wouldn’t be so charitable if a friend made them ill. But you’re always ever so nice.”
“It’s the only talent I have, being nice,” Lily said. “Violet is intellectual, and Rose is a brilliant linguist and has an artistic touch with flowers. I’m just nice.” When her friend stared at her disbelievingly, she bristled. “It’s what I am, Judith. If I wasn’t nice to everyone, I’d be nothing.”
“You’re not nice to everyone,” Judith argued.
“I’m not?” The two words came out faint and forlorn. Lily swallowed hard, ignoring her sore throat. “I try to be nice.”
“You’re not nice to you,” Judith told her impatiently. “You put everyone else first.”
“But that’s the nice thing to do.”
“You’re so worried about everyone else’s happiness, I think you forget about seeing to your own. Stop being so nice, and I think you’ll be happier.” Frowning, Judith glanced out the window. Her eyes widened. “There he is now.”
“Who?”
“Rand.” Judith blushed. “Lord Randal, I mean. Lord, he’s handsome. What happened to his hair?”
“Did you not hear our barn burned? While he was rescuing my animals, his hair caught fire, and he had to cut it.” Lily rose and went to the window, just in time to see Rand slide off his horse—and be greeted by her sister.
“He saved your animals? Oh, Lily, that’s so romantic.”
“It was very kind.” She watched Rose laugh and take Rand by the hand, leading him toward the small redbrick summerhouse. Though he looked confused, he shrugged and went along.
Lily froze for a moment, feeling betrayed. By Rose? By Rand? Then she told herself not to be silly—Rose probably just wanted to show him something. Perhaps she was working on some flower arrangements in the summerhouse. And Rand certainly had no obligation to avoid Rose—not after Lily had repeatedly refused his suit.
Then Rose turned to say something to Rand, and Lily saw her face. Animated. Too animated for languid Rose.
“Something’s up,” Judith said beside her.
Exactly what Lily had been thinking.
“Come along.” Judith took her by the arm. Firmly. “We’re going to investigate.”
“Investigate?” Lily stared at her friend. “You mean spy on my sister?”
“She would spy on you in a heartbeat.” When Lily didn’t budge, Judith turned her to face the window. “Look. They’re both gone. She’s taken him into the summerhouse.” She pulled on Lily’s arm. “Come along. You cannot tell me you don’t want to hear what’s happening.”
Since Lily couldn’t honestly tell her that, she went. She felt like a sorry excuse for a sister, spying on Rose, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
By the time they made it outside, they were both running. When they stopped before one of the round summerhouse’s four doors and Lily reached for the latch, Judith closed a hand over her fingers. “Wait,” she whispered. “Listen.”
“Judith!” Lily protested, her voice hushed but fierce. “There’s spying, and then there is spying. I refuse to—”
And then she was spying, after all—riveted in place by the conversation that drifted from inside.