Chapter 25
Lily found her first few days in Ravensworth surprising.
She sensed an excitement in the earl that endeared him to her.
His almost boyish pride as he showed her some of his favorite haunts left her charmed.
He had gentled, somehow, showering her with lavish attention and showing concern for her well-being.
His attitude left none in doubt that he considered her his bride and chatelaine of his demesne. Lily had, for the first time in her life, expectations to live up to. It made her head dizzy with hope.
Oh, he still bellowed and huffed here and there, but his words were laced with softness. When they were alone, his gold-flecked eyes had a mellow look about them. More than that, he seemed to think her capable of independent thoughts and deeds.
Most touching of all, he’d commanded Simons to provide her with a suitable painting room. He’d found her a small turret room, once a guard chamber that was, even now, being converted for her.
Lily had never felt so indulged—the quantities of personal items from clothing to palfreys, precious books, and jewelry befitting the countess of Ravensworth—almost overwhelmed her. She became tearful and utterly inarticulate. She looked for a chance to thank him with eagerness and trepidation.
He was, she believed, doing everything in his power to share with her his own sense of belonging. The realization stunned her. More and more, he made her feel… defenseless.
That is what happens when you open yourself to loving someone, she warned herself.
Not that she’d managed to spend much time with him. Edward was out and about with his steward, his reeves, and all the other petitioners for his time and attention. Ravensworth supported a large household.
Keelington Court at its height would still have been mediocre by comparison to the scale and grandeur of daily life at Ravensworth.
A few days after their arrival, Lily was discussing those differences with Sir Lanval when Edward joined them.
Lily’s heart did a funny little dance. He made his way directly to her but did not take his place at the table.
Instead, he leaned over them, his shadow falling in the space between them.
“Might I steal my lady for a moment, Lanval?”
Every one of his personal guards, he noticed with asperity, had become a blithering troubadour since their return. No doubt they’d seen the benefits of his change of mood.
Lily sent Sir Lanval a quick apologetic smile and laid an arm on the earl’s proffered one. She did not dare look at him for fear of revealing her new-found vulnerability. It would not do to feed his ego too much nor expose her heart too eagerly, she knew.
Edward still had the ruthless ability to destroy her if he so wished.
She knew, for example, that his demand for her ultimate surrender could not be assuaged.
She did not understand why. For him, it obviously held some importance, whether or not his fanciful plot story was true.
But she also knew that she was not indifferent to his attention.
Her wantonness at Black Raven camp had proven that.
All the same, the anticipation wore on her nerves. It frightened her that she could lose herself in the tide of passion. He had said it would be the time of his choosing. Was it now? In daylight?
With a hammering heart, she allowed him to escort her across the hall. In the southwest corner of the Great Hall were stairs to the upper stories. The private bed chambers and solar were on the second floor, but to her surprise, they passed them and went up further passages and stairs.
“Where are we going?” Lily asked, inclining toward hesitation.
His dimple flashed as it did more often since they’d arrived in Ravensworth.
“You will soon see,” said Edward, stopping at the base of a very steep and narrow spiral stair.
The deep steps were rather rough and uneven, but they did not have far to go.
At the very top stood an immensely thick brass-bound door behind an iron grid.
Unbolting it, Edward ducked his head and stepped out onto a high platform, holding her fast to help her climb out.
A noonday sun almost blinded them after the shadowy keep. A brisk wind blew here, and they breathed deeply of the spring air. As they emerged, Lily saw that they stood on a narrow way at the very top of the highest turret.
Above them sat the crisp blue cap of the sky. Below were farmlands and pastures, the polished glass of lake and stream, and the rolling fields of Ravensworth laid out as if on a platter.
From behind them came the thwack and sail of the Ravensworth banner on its sturdy staff.
Lily felt as though she had stepped upon the bottom rung of heaven.
Never in her life had she imagined such a sight. “Oh, this is the work of the Divine,” she said, her voice hushed with awe.
Edward looked at her. “You are not dizzy? Here, hold my arm,” he said. “’Tis fresh, but we won’t be long. Let me put my mantle over your shoulders.”
For a while, they both stood side by side and looked.
“My brother and I used to come up here often,” he said eventually. “We’d have a competition to see who could see the most shooting stars by night and the most sheep by day. He never let me lose, not once.”
“You have a brother?” said Lily, surprised.
He did not answer for a bit. Leaning his elbows on the parapet, he looked down. “He died young. My sister, too. I have no siblings.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her throat tightening. She thought of how she felt the day Edgar died. Everything had changed from then on. “It is hard for the one’s left behind.”
He glanced at her, then looked away. His shadowed face hid his expression. He said nothing.
Lily understood that sometimes words of comfort were inadequate. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked, trying to fill the empty silence.
He sighed and leaned his back against the parapet, facing her. “We have things to settle between us. I wanted to do so without constant interruptions. Besides, I wanted to share.”
Her throat tightened. “Do not worry, I intend to keep my word.”
“I am not worried, but you certainly are. If you do not stop twisting my mantle, I fear it will be reduced to unwearable rags.”
“Forgive me,” she said, loosening her grip and trying to smooth out the creases.
“The mantle does not signify, Lily,” he said dryly.
“Then what?”
“That bargain we struck, we need not go through with it.”
“But you—” she interrupted, and he chuckled.
“And you accuse me of impatience? But hear what I have to say. I have revised my thinking. Since I now have you safe behind Ravensworth’s walls, I have decided to wait until after we are wed before I take you to my bed.”
Lily stared at him.
“You are clearly distressed by the prospect, but whether the fear of sin torments you, or for some other reason, I do not know. And I would like to. You seemed eager for my touch before, but perhaps I have it wrong?”
Lily bit her lip. She struggled to find the words to tell him the longing of her heart. She could not.
“You say nothing?” he asked, dipping his head to study her face. “It seems to me that over these past weeks—nay, make that months—you have defied me at every turn. All so that you could speak in your own voice. That’s how you put it, right?”
She took a breath and averted her eyes. A blush of rose colored her cheeks.
He bent closer, watching her, trying to read the expression that took flight in her face.
“We reached an agreement,” she finally told him.
“You have clearly heard me; ‘tis only fair I hear you, too. You remind me often that you are a careful man, my lord. I think I better understand your argument. The threat my family poses is of consequence to you. Until that menace is rendered moot, you won’t rest easy.”
“What are you saying, Lily? Speak plain.”
“I no longer wish to wait,” she told him.
Edward looked at her for the longest moment. Then he pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him. “Ah, Lily,” he said, and his mouth took possession of hers, and he kissed her under the shadowless noon, and a torrent of golden light poured down upon them.
* * *
That night Ravensworth celebrated the homecoming of their liege and welcomed his bride-to-be.
Many toasts were drunk, and all that household, from the lowliest kitchen scullion to the highest-ranking knight, knelt before the lord and his lady and pledged fealty with all honor, service, and devotion.
Lily had seldom enjoyed herself more, nor had she known it, looked more beautiful.
Her aunt Celestria had been busy with what she called Lily’s trousseau. In three days, with the help of the castle seamstresses, they’d turned out several garments from shifts to chemises, a few simple kirtles, and one most beautiful gown.
They had been given chests of fabrics to work with. Gifts from the lord of Ravensworth to his bride. Airy silks in garnet, cherry, and every shade of green. There were satins in dramatic blue to match her eyes and velvets, samite, and creamy linens so sheer, she could see through them.
Tonight, she wore the gown of midnight blue over a sheer silver shift that flowed out from the back in a graceful train. Silver stars and flowers adorned the hem and neck, and upon her head sat a small gem-studded cap that twinkled atop the splendor of her cascading hair.
When at last, and to Lily’s absolute delight, the troubadour sang his song of dedication, he likened her to the queen of faerie. And all there applauded, most particularly the Earl of Ravensworth, who rose and bade her drink from his cup, as he welcomed her to her new home.
The festivities were still underway when he leaned over and whispered in her ear. Then, taking her hand, he escorted her from the hall while all about, dancers capered to the sounds of pipes and lutes, and the ribald shouts from his men could barely be heard.
Soon they were alone in Edward’s sumptuous chamber. There were candles in brackets around the walls, and a fire glowed in the hearth.