A Royal Masquerade. Arlene James

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СКАЧАТЬ amazing eyes grew wide again, but in the next instant her hauteur softened. “I’m, er, Lily.”

      “Lily?” Why did that name sound familiar? “Well, Lily,” he said smoothly, aware that his voice had dropped to a silky rumble, “I’m sure the palomino appreciates the sentiment. I should certainly like to be a special interest of yours. However, I’ve been given instructions that the horse is off-limits to everyone but the princess and—” Frowning, he stared at her. “Lily, that’s the princess’s name, isn’t it?”

      She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Her name is Lillian.” Imbued with all the importance of royalty, the name took on a whole new sound than the one in his head.

      “Ah.” Of course. Roland was royalty. Rollie was a stable hand. Likewise, Lillian was a princess. So what was Lily? “I take it you’re a guest. If you’d like a mount, I could saddle—”

      “You take it wrong, Mr. Thomas. I am a resident.”

      His eyes narrowed, sensing something here, something that might turn out to be useful. “Is that so?”

      “It is.”

      “Just, um, what is it that you do around here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

      She shrugged. “Ladies, um, that is, ladies’ maids do whatever is required of them.”

      “Including hanging out in the stables?” he queried doubtfully, lifting his eyebrows.

      She grinned. “Not just hanging out, working, and if I had my way, it’d be permanent. As it is, I can only get away so often, but thankfully Jock indulges me.”

      Roland leaned his forearms against the top rail of the gate and deliberately let his smile take on a flirtatious air. This assignment was suddenly having unforeseen bonuses. “Like the horses, do you?” he asked conversationally.

      She mimicked his stance, stepping up on the bottom rung in order to do so. “Very much.”

      “Me, too. You must be pretty good if Jock lets you work the stock.”

      Her smile literally sparkled. “I like to think so. You must be pretty good yourself, for Jock to have hired you.”

      He chuckled. “The old man knows his stuff, doesn’t he?”

      “He’s the best,” she confirmed. The horse nickered and shifted in the stall. “What’s the matter, baby?” she crooned. “Not getting enough attention? Come here. Come on. Come around here.”

      Roland watched, surprised, as the horse circled inside the box and ambled forward, coaxed by Lily’s clucking tongue and cooing voice.

      “That’s my good girl,” Lily sang, leaning forward to let the horse take her scent. She did not reach out her hand, not yet. “Whatever are we going to call you?” she murmured. “Sunshine? Goldie? Buttercup?”

      Roland wrinkled his nose at the flowery names. “I thought Princess Lillian was to name her.”

      Lily shot him a sideways glance. “Hmm, she is.” Lily leaned his way, confiding softly, “Between you and me, however, she’ll need some help.”

      “Not too bright, is she?” he whispered, sidling closer.

      Something flashed in her eyes, a spark of loyalty, perhaps. “Just…boring,” she said finally.

      “Unimaginative?” he prodded, liking the defensiveness that came into her posture. What good was a family retainer without some loyalty and affection for the family?

      “Constrained,” she corrected.

      Now that he could understand. He nodded slowly. “Well, I hope she foregoes the pretty monikers. This lady deserves a strong name, something that reflects her spirit and value.”

      Lily considered that a moment, then turned her head to look at him. “What would you suggest?”

      He shrugged, and the word just popped out of his mouth. “Doubloon.” Inwardly, he winced. This pirate thing seemed to have taken him over lately. Lily, however, inclined her head.

      “That’s good. Doubloon. The gold Spanish treasure coin. I like that. I’ll pass it on.”

      He smiled. “As long as you like it, that’s satisfaction enough for me.”

      She measured him with a blatant look, then turned to hook an elbow over the top of the gate. “You’re very forward.”

      “You’re very beautiful,” he shot back.

      Her face pinched into a frown, but he caught the flare of pleasure in her eyes and dared her with his gaze to deny it. Suddenly she burst out with a laugh. “Well, it’s not original as compliments go, but the delivery was excellent. I think it deserves at least a standard reply.” She nodded her head. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      He braced his elbows against the top of the gate, lifted his fists together and propped his chin atop them, waiting for her to choose the next step. She didn’t disappoint him.

      “What are you doing for the next little while?”

      He straightened, kept his smile firmly locked away, and spread his hands. “Jock hasn’t said yet. We were going to exercise the stock, but the riding party has taken care of that.”

      She hopped down off the gate, saying, “Let’s put the Lady Doubloon through her paces. What do you say?”

      He shouldn’t. He knew without a doubt that it wasn’t up to him to make such decisions, but he did it anyway. After all, she was a rich potential source of information, and if Jock “indulged” her interest in horses, she must be good. He lifted the latch on the gate. “Do you really think the princess will go for that name?”

      Lily smiled. “I have a little influence.”

      “Oh?”

      “I happen to know her personal maid.”

      Chuckling, he opened the gate. A rich source of information, indeed, and quite, quite lovely.

      He was really quite handsome, Lily mused to herself. Though fairly tall—right at six feet, she judged—he did not overwhelm as her brother Damon did. Wiry but solid, he gave the impression of strength, both physically and mentally. And he didn’t have the slightest clue who she really was, though there had been a moment when she feared he had tumbled onto the truth. Those in the stables who were aware of her identity were under strict orders to keep the information to themselves, so she had no fear that he would discover the truth that way. No doubt, it was unfair to mislead him. In fact, it was probably unwise, but she just couldn’t help indulging herself a little. She grew so tired of the sycophants, the hangers-on who could never for a single instant forget who and what she was.

      Sometimes she wanted to scream that she was a woman, a flesh-and-blood human being, but she doubted the humanity of those who surrounded her, those of her own social set. They simply wouldn’t understand. Rollie, however, seemed sublimely human. What could it hurt if СКАЧАТЬ