was happier before I met you and Bess was killed. I was happier before this civil strife and my father’s death. I shall never know that kind of happiness again,” Autumn told him.
“You are not mad!” he said, the relief palpable in his voice.
“Nay, I am not mad, sir, just filled with sorrow. I believe the trip has begun to restore me already.”
“Perhaps you were mocking me, my lady,” he replied.
“Perhaps I was,” she agreed.
“You do not like me,” he said.
“Why should I?” Autumn demanded. “You are responsible for my sister-in-law’s murder. You espouse a cause that has destroyed my world and murdered my king. You and your compatriots have turned England into a dour and dark land. Nay, I do not like you, Sir Simon.”
“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he said, totally heedless of her scorn.
“You lust after me in your heart, sir. You have from the moment you stepped through the doorway at Queen’s Malvern,” Autumn said, her voice filled with contempt.
“What would a virtuous maid know of lust?” He was suddenly jealous. How could she be chaste and yet have such knowledge?
“Am I a fool then, sir, that I cannot see desire in a man’s eyes?” Autumn berated him. “You are the fool, I fear, if you believe that! I despise you, and men like you.”
“I could keep you in England,” he said suddenly.
“How?” Her glance mocked him.
“You committed a murder to which I was witness,” he said menacingly.
“Prove it,” she taunted him. “You cannot. All you would do is succeed in delaying my voyage. It would be your word against mine. Even your psalm-singing judges in their black garb would not believe that I killed a man. I am a young, unmarried girl of good family. I had no weapon, and this man you allege I killed, where is his body?”
“You are much too clever for a mere woman,” he told her. “You have bewitched me, Autumn Leslie! Perhaps that is the charge I should bring against you. Witchcraft!”
“Go to hell!” she spat at him. “Try it, and I shall revert to the poor half-wit you believed I had become. Tonight on the tide, my mother and I will sail for France. We shall never again see one another, Sir Simon, and for that I am eternally grateful!” Then, to his surprise, Autumn slapped him as hard as she could. “That is for your presumption, sir!”
To her surprise he caught her hand and, turning it palm up, he quickly placed a hot kiss upon it. “We shall indeed meet again, my lady,” he promised her softly, and his dark eyes lingered a moment on her beautiful face. Then he turned and was gone.
She could feel the wetness of his mouth upon her flesh, and Autumn shuddered. She hurried from the private sitting room where they were speaking to her small chamber next door to wash her hands. Scrubbing at the spot his lips had touched, she wondered if she would ever remove the sensation of the kiss from her skin. The feeling was one of deep revulsion. Outside, in the inn’s courtyard, she could hear Sir Simon and his troopers departing. Autumn drew a deep sigh of relief. His threats had been worthless. He could do nothing.
Jasmine entered the little bedchamber and looked hard at her daughter. “Sir Simon came to bid me farewell, and said he was relieved that your indisposition had only been temporary. What did he mean by his words, and what have you done, child?”
“Nothing,” Autumn said. “He said he hoped I should be happy in France. When I spoke he realized I was not suffering any longer.” There was no need, Autumn thought, to reveal the entire conversation to her mother, now that the Roundhead captain was gone.
“The captain of the Fair Winds says we sail within the hour,” Jasmine told her daughter. “The luggage is aboard. Come and say farewell to your brother, child.”
They were actually leaving. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by sadness and struggled to hold back her tears. This was difficult enough for her mother without her bursting into tears, Autumn thought.
“Where is Lily?” she asked. She had not seen her maidservant when she had fled to her chamber.
“Lily is already aboard the ship with the others,” her mother said. “Adali says she is terrified of the sea voyage. You will have to make certain she remains calm.”
“But we shall not be at sea for that long,” Autumn replied. “Lily is such a little coward. I am surprised she left Glenkirk.”
“She would not have, but for her Uncle Fergus,” Jasmine told her daughter. “He and Red Hugh are her only living blood kin. Remember that Fergus and Toramalli have raised Lily since she was seven, having no children of their own. As she had no young man to stay for, she screwed up her courage and agreed to come with us. England is one thing, but France an entirely different entity. Do not say she is a coward, for she is not. It has taken all her ability to conquer her fears. She might have returned to Glenkirk and remained in your brother’s service. She is a clever girl no matter her timidity, and she saw the advantage in remaining with you, my child. I know you don’t know her very well yet, but Rohana and Toramalli have trained her well.”
“She is sweet,” Autumn admitted. “I just miss my old Maybel.”
“I know, but Maybel, poor woman, was becomiong bent and crippled with age. She could not have made this trip. I should have replaced her several years ago, but I knew you loved your dear old nursemaid, and she has missed you, Autumn. Still, she is very content, snug in a fine new cottage with a good stone fireplace that your father had built for her. She will never want for anything, and you needed a younger woman to look after you.”
“Who were Lily’s parents?” Autumn asked. “They are never mentioned at all. How are they kin to Fergus?”
“Fergus and Red Hugh had a much younger sister who ran off with a tinker years ago. She died when Lily was seven, and the tinker sent Lily back to Glenkirk, saying that while she was his child, he had never wed her mother and could not take care of her. Red Hugh was in no position to care for the child, and as it was obvious by then that Toramalli would have no bairns, she and Fergus took Lily in, raising her as their own. Now you know. It wasn’t necesary you know before. Come along, Autumn. Your brother will be wondering where we have gotten to if we do not join him soon.”
The Duchess of Glenkirk and her daughter departed the small chamber and joined the Marquis of Westleigh in the courtyard of the inn. Seeing them coming toward him, Henry Lindley felt a pang of sadness sweep over him, but he bravely mustered a smile.
“So,” said jovially, “you are ready to depart on your adventure! I hope, little sister, you will not find yourself in all the difficulties that your female relations in the past have managed to find themselves.” He chuckled at the dark look his mother shot at him. “Now, Mama,” he said, patting her beringed hand, “you will be there watching over Autumn like a dragon, I am quite certain. Besides, she is not like either India, or Fortune in her disposition. She is a much more bidable lass, eh?”
“She has not had the opportunities her sisters had, and besides, Henry, times have changed.”
“My lady, your cloak, and my mistress’s.” Lily hurried
