Missing Lily (Tales of Dalthia) (2 page)

Once the fire was well stoked, Giles turned to me, rubbing his hands together. “If you’ll hand me your cloak, we need to wrap you in something dry.”

It took a moment for my hands to reach for the clasp at my throat. I was drowsy with relief and fumbled to unfasten my cloak and give it to Giles. He pulled a blanket from somewhere behind me and draped it around my shoulders.

“Very good, miss,” he said with a little bow and then left the room.
 

I stared into the fire for quite a while before it struck me as odd that they had left me alone. I was a complete stranger to these people. They had no reason to trust me. Likewise, I had no reason to trust them.

I moved each of my limbs in turn, taking note of the pain. My left shoulder, arm and hip seemed to have taken the brunt of my fall. During my flight through the storm, I had tried to ignore my injuries, but now I felt each and every one.

Hearing footsteps approach, I turned toward the door, expecting someone to walk through it. But the footsteps ceased, replaced by voices.
 

“And how is our little vagabond?”
 

The corner of my mouth twitched upward. Lord Fallon was making no attempt to keep his voice down.
 

“That’s no vagabond, sir. Feel this.” I furrowed my brow as Lord Fallon made a noise of interest. “Look for yourself, sir,” Giles prodded.

Lord Fallon came through the door, his eyes falling to me. We each studied the other. He no longer appeared as though he’d been roused from his bed. Though water still glistened in his dark hair, he was impeccably dressed and I wondered at his reasons when he had assumed I was a beggar. Giles had entered behind him, holding my cloak.
 

“I see what you mean.” His Lordship sighed, relaxing his posture somewhat before grabbing a chair and placing it next to me.
 

I turned toward the fire and pulled the blanket tighter around me, unable to meet his gaze as I felt him staring at my profile for several moments.
 

“You are injured, miss.”

My eyes darted to him in surprise. I had expected him to demand my name. “Sir?”
 

“Giles,” he said while still looking at me. “Go wake your wife. Our guest needs someone to tend to her injuries, and some dry clothing as well.”

“She’ll be right pleased to have someone to fuss over,” Giles murmured as he left.

In Giles’s absence, I realized I was alone in a dimly lit room with a handsome man. I turned my attention back to the fire, ignoring my discomfort.

He scooted closer and I stiffened as he reached for my straight, dark hair, pushing it away from my cheek. “How were you injured?” I glanced over and realized he was inspecting a wound on my forehead.

“I fell from a horse.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Why would you be riding so late at night?” He moved closer, getting a better look. “And in the middle of a storm?”

It took me a moment to find my voice with him leaning so close. “I wasn’t. I was riding this evening, trying to make it home before the storm. I’ve been walking since I fell.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You were riding alone?”

My heavy eyes blinked as I stared at the fire. “I was returning home with an escort. We found our way blocked by bandits—miscreants—I don’t know who they were.” I shook my head in frustration. “My escort told me to ride away and I did. But I was pursued and they were gaining on me. The only thing I could think to do was to jump off the horse and hope they followed her long enough for me to get away.”

“And then you walked?” His voice was hushed.
 

I glanced at him but couldn’t hold his gaze. “Then I walked…or ran when I could.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nodding to himself as he looked at the floor. “Forgive me, miss.” His eyes returned to me. “I do not recall ever having made your acquaintance, but you look very familiar.”

I studied his face, surprised that I did not know him since I knew most of the nobility. “I have never seen you at court, sir.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “This estate is falling to ruin. I do not have the time to play at being a socialite.”

“And your name, sir?” I knew that he was Lord Fallon, but thought it polite to ask.

“Rhys Fallon.” The dropping of his title surprised me.

“A pleasure, sir.”

He smiled at my hollow formality. “And who might you be?”

I looked away, not wanting to lie, but unwilling to confess my true identity. I was royalty, this man’s superior, but I couldn’t make myself admit it, determined to protect myself. “Lily,” was the lie I came up with. “Lily Josten.”

“And how—” he began but was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of an older woman. Unlike her master, she had not taken time to fully dress. She was in the midst of fastening her dressing gown as she walked toward me.

“My gracious, what have we here?” she crouched before me, taking my face in hand. She was a lovely woman, all gray hair and compassion. She set about fussing over me—removing the blanket so that she could search for injuries and quietly inquire about others. I was shocked when she gave orders, not only to her husband, but to Lord Fallon as well. “Giles, put some water on to boil. Rhys, go pull some bandages from that cupboard over there.”
 

I looked up to see how he would respond to being ordered about by someone who worked for him, but he simply rose and went to the cupboard. She focused mostly on my arm. My sleeve had been torn, revealing a long, ugly looking scrape from shoulder to elbow.
 

Once she had acquired everything she needed, she waved the men away, “Now get out, the both of you. I must tend to her injuries.”

“It is only her arm, Rosamond,” Rhys protested.

Rosamond shot him a steely glance. “There are others,” she stated, and I ducked my head in embarrassment. Rhys just cleared his throat and walked out the door. Giles followed.

As Rosamond helped me to peel off layer upon layer of sopping fabric, she found bruises running from the back of my left shoulder down to my thigh. There was a fist-sized wound at my hip. It had turned my underskirt pink with blood and still bled feebly. She cleaned up the scrapes on my head, arm and hip as quickly as possible and put some sort of salve on my bruises before helping me into a dry chemise and bundling me once more in a blanket.
 

By the time she had finished patching me up, my exhaustion made it difficult to stand. After trying to help me walk a few steps, Rosamond called out, “Your Lordship!” He appeared immediately at the door. “She’s in no state to be walking up those stairs, sir.”

With only that prompting, Rhys picked me up gently, blankets and all, and carried me from the room. Though he was as careful as possible, I still had to bite back a groan of pain as his arms pressed on my injuries. Rosamond bustled ahead of us and entered a room at the top of the stairs. “Just set her down. I’ll take it from here.”

Rhys set me on my feet, made sure I had my balance, then gave me a nod and a small smile. I gazed after him, barely recalling my manners before he stepped out of sight. “Thank you, sir,” I managed to blurt. He just nodded once and closed the door.

“You’ve certainly got the master in a bunch,” Rosamond commented.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“His Lordship isn’t usually so quiet, is all.” I didn’t know what she meant, so I gave no response. She worked in silence, removing the few pins that remained among my hair, then pulling back the covers on the bed. “I know you won’t be comfortable with all the pains ailing you, but I hope you can rest.”
 

“Thank you.” I was already half asleep when I heard the door close behind her, but I didn’t slip off right away. My mind was too full of my ordeal, the memory of fleeing across the countryside racing through my head. The hours spent wandering in the dark and the rain had left a shadow of fear in my heart.

My eyes remained wide open for a good portion of the night, the questions finally forcing their way into my mind now that I found myself in relative safety. A sick feeling settled in my stomach as I thought about my parents and what they must be thinking at this moment. What conclusion had they drawn when I did not return? What had happened to Nathaniel? Had he been able to return to the castle and tell the tale of our attackers? I had no way of knowing.
 

Chapter 2

M
Y
MIND
FELT
muddled when I woke up in a bed that was not my own. I sat upright and winced at the pain in my shoulder as my memories came into focus. This was Fallon Manor. The rain pounding the roof, as well as the lack of light seeping through the window told me that I wouldn’t be going home today. The storm still raged.
 

I sat up, maneuvering to the edge of the bed. I rested my head in my hand when it started to pound, then ran my fingers across my brow, feeling a cut and a substantial lump. How had this happened? Despite my title, I had never been targeted. And what of Nathaniel?

I pursed my lips as I considered what my parents might be thinking at this moment. To say they would be worried didn’t quite cover it. After living through the abduction of my sister, Ella, my family would jump to the worst conclusions. They would think I’d been forcibly taken, which very well may have happened if I’d been caught. I had no idea what had become of Nathaniel and could only pray that he was not lying dead on the side of the road.

A knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” I asked.

“It’s Rosamond, dear. Might I come in?”

I stood. “Yes.”

She walked in and my lips trembled as I tried to make them turn up.
 

“Having trouble?” she asked.

I gave a reluctant nod, unused to requiring so much assistance.
 

She walked over, examining my face before furrowing her brow. “What’s bothering you?” She reached out, drawing me down to sit beside her on the bed. “Is your shoulder giving you grief or are you worrying?”

My eyes stung and I blinked several times. It would be so easy to break down in the arms of this gentle soul. “My family.” I cleared my throat. “They’ll think I was taken, or hurt, or killed; they’ll be so worried.”

“Oh, don’t you be worrying about that, little one.” She carefully wrapped her arms around me. “You’ll just have to spend a cozy day here with us and then we’ll have you home in no time.”
 

My mind wandered back to the events of last night, reliving the terror as I stared at the gray light beyond the window. “What time is it?” I asked, trying to distract myself.

“Early afternoon.”

I blinked. “I slept that long?” At home, I never slept much past sunrise.

“You didn’t show up here until well past midnight. And with the thrashing you took, I’d imagine you’ll sleep a good deal of today as well.”

“I should dress.” I cast my eyes about. “My clothes…”

“They’re not fit to be worn, I’m afraid. Besides, you really shouldn’t be up yet.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be a bother.” I stood, but my head spun and I sank right back down.

“You,” Rosamond stated in a voice of authority, “will stay right here.” She put my feet up on the bed and helped me sit back against the pillows. “I’ll go get you some food.”

Despite my determination to be fine, Rosamond ended up being right. I spent the afternoon alternating between eating, sleeping, and visiting with Rosamond as she sat stitching this or mending that. She was both soft and stern, and had the uncanny ability of making me want to smile, though she was careful not to make me laugh. The deep bruises running down my side made any movement more difficult than it should have been.

Rosamond alone tended to me that day. I had vague wonderings about the other servants, but spent an inordinate amount of time wondering about the Lord of the manor. I felt safe in his home, and reflected often on the few minutes I had spent with him the night before. Did he resent my presence here? He hadn’t seemed upset by me after he realized I wasn’t a vagrant. Then again, I was unused to being in a position where my presence might be unwanted, so how was I to know?

I fell asleep that night with the rain still slashing the windows, and each time I jolted from sleep in the middle of the night, the room echoed with the same relentless drumming.

Perhaps it was the absence of sound that woke me. As the fog cleared from my head, I realized that not only was the sound of rain gone, but there was sunlight glowing at the window.

I slid from the bed, my jaw clenching as the ache seared my side. I stood, wobbling only for a moment, then reached for the dress that lay across the covers. Rosamond must have left it there for me. I stepped into it, reaching to fasten the back, but pain flared in my shoulder, thwarting my effort. I blew out a breath of frustration and sank down onto the bed, glaring at the wall.
 

I needed to go home, but couldn’t even manage to dress myself.

The knock at my door was a welcome relief.

Rosamond bustled in when I bid her enter, with a beaming smile and a tray of food.

“The master rode out himself early this morning to check how the roads have fared in this weather. He should be returning soon and we’ll see about getting you home.”