Lily brushed a hand over her eyes.
I’m in a strange mood. Did I misinterpret what that woman just did
?
Lupa nuzzled her cheek with a wet, inquiring nose, as if sensing her distress. That contact snapped the unreal feeling. Certainty washed over her, then rage.
I’m not crazy. I’m right
.
Lily got to her feet. The nanny couldn’t see her through the deep undergrowth. Gathering the younger boy and her belongings in her stout arms, the woman took the older boy’s hand. The three walked back up the path to the house.
Lily cursed in desperation. Would Elizabeth believe her? Would anyone, except Artemas, and perhaps Michael? Would James accuse her of meddling and lying, trying to cause trouble where none existed? She had promised to stay away from them all.
But finally, one overriding thought hammered at her. if
someone had touched Stephen that way, nothing could hold me back
. She was already walking forward, hurrying toward the lake path.
Artemas walked into the gallery He couldn’t linger outside by the terrace balustrade any longer, using any excuse to gaze toward the lake and the woods that separated the estate from her land. He wanted this exercise in hospitality to end, so he could stop pretending to enjoy it. Ironically one of his dearest dreams had been to see the house this way, alive with music and laughter, admired by all. Lily’s absence, as always, reduced the feeling to a shell.
He started through the enormous room, hoping to slip into a hallway at the other side where a discreetly locked door led to the stairs up to his private wing of the house. He would go out on the balcony of his bedroom, where he could look across the lake in peace.
Guests approached him as he made his way through the throng. Keeping up small talk had never been easy for him; Cassandra was a natural at party banter and usually performed that service with inexhaustible energy at the family’s business-related events. But Cassandra had fled to
some hiding place with Dr. Sikes, and had not been seen for over an hour. Artemas almost smiled at that. He approved of the rough-cut veterinarian, who seemed gleefully able to deflate anyone’s pretensions, especially Cass’s.
Just as he reached the other side of the room and sighed with relief, Michael strode in through one of the enormous, open glass doors and headed straight toward him. One look at his brother’s strained expression halted Artemas. “Lily’s here,” Michael said to him, in a low, urgent tone. “There’s some kind of trouble.”
When Artemas got outside, she was standing below the terrace’s stone steps, involved in an obviously heated conversation with James. One of the estate’s security guards had her by one arm. A large group of guests were staring avidly from the terrace. As Artemas descended the steps, she looked past James to him, and he saw both stark determination and anxiety in her eyes. Artemas stepped between them and gave a quick, almost imperceptible jerk of his head. The guard immediately let go of her arm and stepped back.
“I need to speak to Elizabeth,” she said between clenched teeth.
“The hell you do,” James replied. “You’re not going to invade this house in the middle of a party and create some ridiculous scene.”
“James,” Artemas said. There was lethal warning in the softly spoken name. James turned toward him, clenching the handle of his cane with white-knuckled anger. “Don’t take sides against us. For God’s sake, I thought we’d agreed.”
“I agreed to keep my temper. You agreed to keep yours. You seem to have broken that agreement already.”
Lily made a hissing sound of disgust. “Get Elizabeth, please.”
Artemas frowned at her. “What is this about?”
“That’s between Elizabeth and me. She can tell you later, if she wants to.”
“If you need to see her, then you will. With me.”
“
No.
”
Anger and frustration graveled his voice. “You’re putting me in the position of wondering if James is right to keep you away. If you’ve got a complaint about our sister, this isn’t the time or place for it.”
She stared at him as if he’d deserted her. Her eyes were shimmering blue ice, melting with a look of betrayal, then hardening just as quickly “Don’t worry about your damned party,” she said in a soft, scathing tone. “I’m not here to embarrass you. But I’m not leaving until I talk with Elizabeth.
Alone.
”
James leaned toward her. “You’re an embarrassment to this family whether you’re standing in front of us or a thousand miles away. But we’re not going to allow you to make it any more public than you already have.”
“Don’t bet on that. If you want to see me wrestle with a guard, I’m ready. You can tell your morbidly fascinated boot-lickers that it’s one of the local customs.”
Artemas held up a hand. He felt trapped, furious, despondent over her unreasonable behavior. “You can tell me what you want, or by God, I’ll drag you back down the hill myself.”
She looked stunned but answered, “I’ll come back. And I’ll
keep
coming back until I get what I want.”
“That sums up your whole goddamned plan neatly,” James said.
Artemas turned toward his brother with deadly calm. “Shut up. I’m ashamed of you.”
James looked as if he’d been slapped. Never in their lives had Artemas spoken to him that way. His face white, he said softly, “You see what she’s reduced us to?”
Artemas saw all too well that everything he loved was crumbling around him. It was in Lily’s wounded, contemptuous eyes, James’s fading respect, and the gut-wrenching repulsion at feeling the eager, gossipy intent of the crowd watching from the terrace a few feet above them. He snagged Lily’s arm. “We’re going to walk back down the hill,” he said.
“Don’t try it.” The threat in her voice matched his.
His fingers tightened. He felt the muscles of her arm contract. One more second and the first social event at Blue Willow in more than three decades would earn a unique and ugly place in the estate’s history.
Elizabeth, Alise, and Michael hurried down the steps to them. “Stop this. Please, stop this,” Elizabeth begged. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to talk to you,” Lily said quickly. “In private.”
“To me?” Elizabeth looked astonished and fearful, as if Lily might be carrying a hidden weapon. Lily leaned past Artemas, grasping his shoulder hard, and ignoring James’s grimace. “Please.
Please.
”
“But … I haven’t done anything to you.” Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of a pale blue shorts outfit.
“It’s not about you. It’s about your children.”
Elizabeth gasped. “But they’re fine. Their nanny just took them upstairs.”
“They are
not
fine.”
Artemas eased his grip on her arm. He stared at her in bewilderment, with the sense of having misjudged her in ways she’d never forgive. Elizabeth burst into action, pushing at him. “Let her go!” She reached past him to take one of Lily’s hands. Artemas stepped aside. Lily glanced at him bitterly, then followed Elizabeth up the stairs.
The family waited tensely outside the closed door of a butler’s pantry. Artemas felt as if his nerves were being ground to raw ends. Cassandra strode in, with Dr. Sikes at her heels. “What the hell is going on?” Cassandra flung a hand toward the door. “Why is Lily in there with Lizbeth?”
Any answers were prevented by an audible shriek from behind the pantry’s heavy white door. It flew open, and Elizabeth ran out, her hands clenched and eyes wild. She pushed through the group. Michael and Artemas caught her. “Lizbeth,” Artemas said, horrified. She seemed uncontrollable, crazed. She stared up at him. “Ellen molested him!
Jonathan
. Lily saw her do it. She touched my son! I’ll kill her. I’ll
kill
her.”
Chaos took over. Cries of alarm, guttural oaths. Everyone closed in on Elizabeth, who struggled fiercely “I’m going to the nursery I’m going to strangle that bitch. No one can do that to my son. Oh,
God.
”
“You’re not going up there alone,” Artemas said. Lily stood in the pantry’s doorway. His distraught, searching eyes met hers. She looked exhausted. He loved her more at that moment than he could have put into words, even if there had been any way he could tell her. “You need to come with us. Please.” She nodded.
Surrounded by the sheer emotional force of angry Colebrooks, the children’s nanny confessed. Lily had no pity for her, but when she thought of the legal machinery the family would bring to bear, she shuddered. She knew their unyielding revenge too well.
Elizabeth was too upset to question her son—the others convinced her she’d only frighten him. Artemas gently carried the bewildered little boy into a playroom filled with toys, joking with him, tickling his bare feet, making him laugh and relax. Lily had seen such poignant strength and such intuition for a child’s feelings only once before: in Richard.
After talking to Jonathan alone, Artemas returned to them, his voice calm, but his face lined with fury. Jonathan had described the sort of touching Lily had witnessed. The nanny had coaxed him to play her game several times before.
Elizabeth was a wreck. Michael sat her down in a chair and tried to talk with her. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. James stood behind her, his hands resting protectively on her shoulders. Cass stroked her hair.
Tears clouded Lily’s vision as she watched them close ranks around their sister. Artemas came to her and took her arm. Yielding to the gentle pressure of his fingertips, she left the room with him. When they were alone in a hallway, he faced her. Lily choked on the memory of the accusing words he’d spoken to her at the terrace steps. He studied her expression intently, and she knew he was reading
the caution there. “You could have told me why you wanted to see Elizabeth,” he said without rebuke.
“You could have trusted me.”
“It was lousy communication, not lack of trust.”
“No, you thought James was right about my motives.”
“I had been thinking about you, all day. Wishing you were here. You showed up, as if you knew—as if you needed to be with me as much as I—” He halted. “Then everything went to hell.” He spoke with harsh, weary emphasis. “Just as it always seems to, because one or both of us can’t break through the wall of pride.”
“At least something good came out of the effort. Elizabeth believed my story, and her children are safe now.”
“No one doubted your story. Not even James. Thank you for protecting Elizabeth’s children. I’m sorry I made it so difficult for you.”
She felt his hand stroking her hair, and couldn’t make herself tell him to stop. When he pulled her into a deep, comfortable hug, she rested there gratefully, her head on his shoulder, her arms slipping around his back. It was reassuring—no fireworks, no threat, no questions. The seconds passed in slow, protective regard.
Her arms tightened around him in silent acceptance. During this brief truce she would cherish being pressed against his body, loving the warmth and intimacy between them.
“Excuse me,” Michael said softly.
Lily jerked her head up. Artemas did not immediately loosen his hold on her, so she stood there awkwardly, close to him, looking at Michael, who gazed back with discreet scrutiny. “What is it?” Artemas asked.
“Will you talk to Elizabeth? The rest of us aren’t having much effect. Maybe you can calm her down.”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.”
Michael nodded and walked back into the nursery.
“You go on back now,” she told Artemas. “Whatever gratitude they feel toward me will evaporate if you don’t. They need you. Especially Elizabeth.”
“And you’ll never admit you need me.” He looked
down at her with weary resignation. “That’s where the honesty between us stops.”
She let her silence give an answer. His eyes darkened. They turned from each other, the spell broken.
Late the next afternoon, Lily hurried out of her house anxiously, at the sound of Lupa’s barking. Elizabeth stood at the base of the porch steps. Her blond hair was disheveled and her face sweaty with the afternoon heat. She wore a wilted shirtwaist dress and white jogging shoes; as if prepared to take flight from a garden party. The lush flower beds framed her on both sides of the front path, and the shade trees dappled her with shadows, like the voluptuous centerpiece of a living Monet.
“I told everyone I was going for a walk,” she explained. She hugged herself and looked distraught. “They’re watching me like mother hens. They think I’m having a nervous breakdown. Maybe I am. Maybe it’s irresponsible to show up here without warning.”
“No,” Lily said slowly. “You love your children, and it’ll take some time to deal with what happened to Jonathan. I don’t mind you coming here—depending on
why
you’re here.”
“I never thanked you. What you did took so much courage. If you really hated us, you’d have ignored what you saw.”
Lily shivered. “I don’t hate you. And even if I did, I wouldn’t take it out on your children.” Her voice faltered. Very few things were clear to her, but that was. Lifting her chin, she added, “I’d like to believe any of you would have done the same for my son.”
“Oh, yes, yes.” Elizabeth, her shoulders hunched and eyes glazed with inner turmoil, seemed to be on the verge of withdrawing into some personal hell.
At a loss and feeling sorry for her, Lily gestured toward the door. “Come inside. I promise not to tempt you with peach wine, like Cassandra.”
Elizabeth swayed. “There’s so much I can’t say to my family. I shouldn’t be here, trying to tell you.”
“I’d think you could say anything to your brothers and sisters. Y’all are so close.”
“That’s why I can’t tell them …” Her voice trailed off. Clearing her throat, she moved tentatively up the steps, then halted, searching Lily’s eyes. “If you don’t want to be bothered with me, I’ll understand.”
“No. Come on inside.” Elizabeth looked at her with relief. Lily sensed she was desperate to talk. “Anything you say to me is just between us. If that’s what’s worrying you, relax.”
Elizabeth began to cry. Lily guided her inside, and she collapsed in one corner of the couch. “I thought I was safe. But now I know I’ve never been safe. I’ve been lying to myself. All these years. Lying. I am such a coward.”