The Queen's Necklace (43 page)

In spite of her embarrassment she found herself laughing at his quizzical expression. “Of course,” she said, with a rueful shake of her head. “How very stupid of me to forget.”

They each took a seat on a teakwood chair and were easier after that, conversing amiably on a number of subjects—though she did experience some
slight
difficulty keeping her countenance when Blaise reached into a coat pocket, took out a tiny brisé fan, and began to wave it gently in front of him.

“No doubt,” he said, giving her an arch look over the tortoiseshell sticks, “you are stunned by my splendor. The merest affectation, I do assure you—I can be quite a sensible companion when I put my mind to it.”

“So I have heard,” said Lili, with an answering twinkle. “Will always says—”

“Don't, I beg you, believe a word of it. If you believe Wilrowan, you'll think me the dullest dog in the city.” Grown suddenly sober, he closed his fan with a decisive snap. “And the truth is I have come here to offer myself as your escort. I would be perfectly enchanted to take you—well, to take you practically anywhere you'd like to go.”

Lili felt her heart sink. Despite her best efforts, her smile dimmed. “Did Wilrowan send you here to look after me, Blaise?” And she wondered how she could possibly bear it if Will came to regard her only as a burden to pass off on others.

“Not in the least!” said Trefallon, with a very convincing show of surprise. “I volunteered. No, honestly, Lili, I am your most obliged and obedient servant. I hope you don't mind?”

She forced herself to answer brightly. “How could I mind? And I suppose—” She looked down at her hands, which she was surprised to discover were clenched in her lap. “I suppose since you
are
Wilrowan's closest friend, no one would think anything of it?”

“No one will think anything if we are occasionally seen together,” Blaise reassured her. “It is quite the mode for young married ladies to choose their own escorts.” As he pocketed the fan, his manner became coaxing. “Now where may I take you tomorrow? The theater? The opera? The Royal Exchange?”

Lili noticed that he did not propose a visit to the Volary, to pay her respects to Dionee. Had the omission been calculated? “Wherever you please, sir. You will know better than I do what is really worth seeing.”

She hesitated, not wishing to impose on his good nature. “But I do have one suggestion. You must be acquainted with my Cousin Nick—with Lieutenant Kestrel Brakeburn?”

“Of course,” said Blaise, rising smoothly to his feet as an indication that his visit was over. “I will try to bring Nick with me tomorrow—if he is not on duty or otherwise engaged. No doubt we will make a very pleasant party.”

Lili was forced to agree. Though she could not help wondering why he—or Wilrowan—was taking such pains to keep her amused and away from the palace.

Will did not reappear until two evenings later. The weather had cleared, and Lili spent the entire day with Blaise and Nick, riding about in an open carriage, visiting a park, a museum, and the Royal Exchange. But she had dined alone, and feeling weary and dull after such a full day, she decided to retire early.

She was sitting at her dressing table, already down to her green linen stays and starched muslin petticoat, brushing out her chestnut curls, when the door flew open. Expecting the abigail that Will had engaged, Lili was just turning to dismiss the girl—when in strolled Wilrowan himself.

The hairbrush slipped out of her hands, falling to the table with a loud clatter. At Brakeburn Hall, Will had never appeared while she was still undressing; at Brakeburn Hall he had too much delicacy to ever intrude in this extraordinary fashion.

But this is
Will's
house
, she suddenly realized. It was Wilrowan's house, they were his servants, and the big oak bed with the heavy red velvet curtains, that was his bed—at least for the next two months. Inexplicably, Lili felt herself at a great disadvantage.

Will closed the door softly behind him. “I trust,” he said, with a faint touch of sarcasm, “that Trefallon has been keeping you suitably amused?”

“Why, yes,” said Lili, wondering why on earth he should sound so put out, when
he
was the one who had asked Blaise to escort her. “Blaise Trefallon—and my cousin Nick.”

Crossing the room, Will took one of her hands between his thumb and forefinger, brushed the lightest of kisses across the back. The sensation was so intense, her reaction was so surprising, it was all that Lili could do to maintain her composure. “I stopped in briefly this afternoon, only to learn that you had gone out.”

With an effort, she collected herself. “Oh, dear. If I had known you were coming, I would have—” She heard herself give a light, affected laugh. “But really, there was no particular reason for me to expect you, was there?”

“No reason in the world,” he replied, dropping her hand and taking a step backward. “Except that husbands do, occasionally, spend an afternoon with their wives. But the fact is, I was only here to deliver a message from Rodaric. He wishes to see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Again there was that touch of irony. “I trust you don't already have some more pressing engagement?”

“If I have,” said Lili, goaded by his unpleasant manner, “then I must try to get out of it, mustn't I!” She picked up her hairbrush again, and ran it through her curls. “A summons from the king should not be refused.”

“As you say—it would be impolitic.” He had been watching her lips intently while she spoke; now his eyes moved slowly down the entire length of her body, in an insolent way that made Lili long to slap him. “May I claim the privilege of escorting you tomorrow?”

She took such a vicious pull at her hair that the tears started up in her eyes. “Of course. I can be ready by eleven, if that is what you—” But she stopped in mid-sentence, with the brush in the air. “Wilrowan, are—are you going so soon?”

He paused with his hand on the door. “What do you take me for?” he said under his breath. “Am I really capable of such crude behavior? To neglect you for two whole days, yet expect to spend the night?”

You can stay if you choose
, thought Lili, blinking back the tears, but she was much too proud to say the words out loud. “You must do—you must do whatever pleases you,” she heard herself saying instead. “As Heaven's my witness, you always have!”

There was a spark in his eyes, a moment of hesitation, which made Lili think—which made Lili hope—he was going to stay in spite of her. That he was going to stay
to
spite her, if that made any sense. And while the consequences of that could hardly be pleasant, they might be—interesting.

But the light in his eyes died; his face became suddenly very cold. “On that note, madam, I will take my leave.” And before she could say anything more, he was out of the room, shutting the door very quietly behind him.

A
fter a restless night, Lili rose at eight and drifted downstairs to breakfast. As she sipped her morning tea, as she buttered a crumbling caraway scone and set it aside untasted, she suddenly remembered that today was the day she would go to the Volary. Her heart gave a sudden bound. A delicate task lay before her; was it possible she could succeed on her very first visit?

One of the footmen came into the room, and announced that a gentleman had called. “A gentleman? At this hour?”

“A Sir Bastian Josslyn-Mather, madam. I told him—”

“No, no, show him in at once.” And Lili spent the next few minutes wondering what this unexpected visit could possibly mean, until the old gentleman himself appeared at the door of her dining parlor, hat in hand.

“Do not rise,” he insisted. “And do not look so anxious, either. There is nothing seriously amiss. But as there is something I most particularly wished to discuss, I took the chance that Captain Blackheart would be out.”

“If I am not to rise, then you must take a seat and allow me to pour you a cup of tea,” said Lili, lifting the flowered teapot. “But, sir, did you
know
where I am going this afternoon?”

Sir Bastian pulled up one of the walnut side-chairs and sat down facing her. “To the palace, Lilliana? That is excellent news. But not, I am afraid, the news that brings me here. If indeed it may be called news at all. The matter may be important, or again it may not.” He cleared his throat, looked faintly uncomfortable. “I saw Captain Blackheart at the theater last night. Not to speak to, of course. He was there with—he was there with the queen and a very large party, and someone was kind enough to point him out.”

Lili wondered about that momentary hesitation. Who
had
Will been with that Sir Bastian was reluctant to mention? She remembered that one of Wilrowan's most notorious romances had been with a certain Mrs. Sidmouth, a tragedian. While it was unlikely the liaison had lasted for more than two years, it was also unlikely that Will had lost his taste for actresses.

“—with the queen on the terrace afterwards,” Sir Bastian had continued on, while Lili's thoughts were elsewhere, “he wears a ring on his right hand, a smoke-colored stone, carved intaglio, in a silver setting. No doubt you know it?”

“Yes, of course,” Lili answered, with a puzzled little frown.

“It is of Goblin manufacture?”

“It's so very old, it could hardly be anything else.” Lili lifted her cup and took a sip. “It came to Will from his grandmother, two or three years ago.”

“Ah,” said Sir Bastian, looking satisfied. “Then I was correct in thinking I had seen it before.”

Lili put down her teacup. “Do you
know
Lady Krogan?”

The old gentleman smiled. “My dear, it would not be possible to live as long as I have, and to see so much of the world, and
not
at some point meet Odile Krogan. The reason I marked the ring when I saw her wearing it—she was Miss Odilia Rowan at the time—was because I had seen and handled similar stones before.” He leaned forward. “Are you quite, quite certain that Captain
Blackheart knows nothing of your secret activities these last several years?”

Lili gave a tiny jerk and spilled her tea. “Does he know I have been training as a Specularii magician?” She righted her teacup, picked up an embroidered napkin, and began to mop up the spill. “So far as I know, he is unaware the Specularii even exist. Why do you ask?”

“Perhaps I am wrong, then. These stones are not always used for reading the minds of other people.”

Lili stopped and stared at him, with the tea-stained linen still in her hand. “Sir Bastian, are you saying that—that Will might have been invading my thoughts all of these years? But that is incredible!” Shaking her head, she began mopping up tea again. “Will did study magic at the university, but he completely lost interest when he left.”

“You will know best. Yet I think you ought to be cautious anyway. You must guard your thoughts whenever your husband is near. There is no harm in being careful.”

But Lili was no longer listening. She sat with burning cheeks, thinking of all the things that she would rather
die
than reveal to Wilrowan. Last night—what if he had known that she wanted him to stay? What if he had known, and still he left, to meet some actress at the playhouse?

And if he did
, Lili wondered bleakly,
how could I ever, ever face him again?

Will appeared that afternoon in a conciliating mood. With one of those startling changes of front for which he was so justly famous, he was all smiles, charm, and easy conversation as he escorted Lilliana to the Volary. Despite Sir Bastian and his disturbing theories, she found she was still capable of enjoying Wilrowan's company.

The king received her in his study. If Lili was shy at first, Rodaric soon disarmed her with his forthright, sensible manner. They spent a pleasant afternoon, during which he allowed her to examine his
collection of ancient manuscripts, and they discussed a number of books they had both read. The visit was apparently a success; she was invited back for the next day, to play chess with the king.

Much to Lili's surprise, Will reappeared in time to escort her home. Hailing a chair, helping her to climb inside, making every effort to secure her comfort, he walked alongside as she was carried back to the house. He stayed for supper, making agreeable conversation all the while, and it was only much later, when she realized that he was spending the night, that Sir Bastian's words came rushing back into Lili's mind. Then she grew flustered, excused herself early, and ran upstairs to her bedroom to cool her cheeks in privacy.

She was already in her nightgown, just climbing into bed, when she heard Wilrowan moving around in the adjoining dressing room. She sat bolt upright against the pillows, pulling the crimson counterpane up to her chest and trying to regulate her wildly beating heart. For once, her Specularii training was no help at all.

After a few minutes, the connecting door opened and Will walked into the room, barefoot, stripped down to his linen drawers and shirt, carrying a lighted candle in one hand. He put the candlestick carefully down on a table and seated himself on the edge of the bed.

Lili had always felt safe in her big white bed at Brakeburn Hall, safe in her long-sleeved nightdress that covered everything.
But if Will knew everything that I was thinking
, she thought in a panic,
if he always knew everything that I was feeling—I was worse than naked the whole time!

“So,” he said softly, as she caught her breath sharply and averted her eyes, “it seems that I am
not
forgiven. I must admit that is disappointing. I thought we were getting along so well.”

Lili gave an uneasy little laugh. “I suppose it depends on what you have done that needs forgiving. I can—I can hardly forgive something I don't even know about.”