Sixteen

Still in the orchard. Still Sunny. Still afternoon

Ten hilarious heartbeats later

Zander could not contain his broad grin as he awaited Lilly’s reply. If he was not an incorrigible cad, he would have ignored her, speaking her thoughts aloud.

But what was the fun in that?

Besides, his masculine pride swelled at her accidental admission, and when she was as flustered as she was now, she was quite adorable. Even in the atrocious dowdy brown gown, she had probably donned for the outdoor work.

Regardless, try as she might to appear like a drab wren or a dull pipit, Lilibet Granger was much more like a starling or grackle with breathtaking, iridescent colors shining forth in the right light.

One just had to be observant and look for her hidden beauty.

Just now, Lilly gaped at him, wholly horrified, for a half dozen seconds before slapping her hand across her mouth and shaking her head.

Leaning nearer and savoring her delicate fragrance, Zander whispered for her ears alone, “Do not fret. I shall not tell anyone you lust after me.”

Her brown eyes grew rounder and rounder and then sparks lit the irises as ire replaced her shock and embarrassment.

“I do not!” She poked a finger at his chest.

Hard.

Ouch .

That would leave a bruise, for certain. He rubbed the offended spot.

“You egotistical dunderhead,” she snapped with more fire than Zander had ever witnessed in her before. “I most assuredly am too sensible to lu—do any such irrational thing.”

What a delightful, adorable prude.

Zander almost snorted because she refused to say the word lust again, but as riled as she had become, she might haul off and slap him. Most especially if he reminded her that lust did not listen to reason or logic, which is what made it such a dangerous, unpredictable beast.

“But not all of my staff possesses the same degree of pragmatism, and it is my responsibility to ensure they do not make choices or behave in a manner that will in any way bring censure upon Kelston Hall Children’s Home,” she finished on a breathless rush.

“I apologize, Lilly.” He touched her shoulder. “I would never?—”

“Miss Granger?” Miss McKenzie called.

Just as well she had interrupted him before he made an asinine declaration Lilly would not want to hear and he had no business professing.

“We are done picking the fruit, so we’re taking the children to the house to clean up now.” With a nod, Miss McKenzie indicated Miss Wobblecroft and Mrs. Ruth Jones, both of whom practically leered at him.

“We are going too, Miss Granger.” The maid, Florence, gave a little bob and a wave. “Mrs. B will need our help with the apple dumplings.”

She and the other two maids, sisters Martha and Eliza, walked side by side toward the main house.

“Very good. I shall be up shortly.” Forehead puzzled, Lilly glanced around. “I did not realize how quickly the fruit and nuts had been gathered.”

Not only was the wagon beside Zander and Lilly filled with baskets, but several more clusters of bushel baskets sat throughout the orchard. The abundant harvest was a blessing for the home and would ensure plenty of fruit preserves, tarts, and the like throughout the long winter months.

Zander planned to be here to enjoy them as well, but who knew what his future held?

Charles still maintained Zander’s memory could come flooding back at any moment. The minutest thing might trigger a recollection and open the floodgates. Then there was the letter Lilly had written to Cambridge, which might very well help identify him.

Never had Zander been so conflicted.

If he discovered who he was, then he would know if he was unmarried and free to pursue his growing feelings for Lilly. Or if he had already exchanged vows with another and must do right by his wife. Not to mention trying to wade through the nefarious circumstances that had brought him to Kelston Hall to begin with.

He still believed he had been abducted, and that meant someone posed a threat and danger to him and possibly to Lilly and the others because of his presence here. That knowledge plagued him and kept him awake long after the house had settled each night.

Zander should leave.

That would be the unselfish thing to do.

The noble and honorable thing.

For the safety and wellbeing of everyone at Kelston Hall.

But he had discovered he was a selfish arse.

Not only did he have nowhere to go, he refused to leave Lilly unless forced to. She might never know the depths of his feelings for her, but he would protect her with his life.

Regardless, there was something to the adage that ignorance was bliss because at present, not knowing who he was, if he was married, or who had abducted and beaten him, meant he could continue this happy interlude.

And he was happy.

Very much so, truth be told.

Despite all those irksome uncertainties.

He gave a mental shrug.

“I shall drive the wagon to the root cellar entrance,” he offered, by way of apology.

Zander should not tease Lilly so.

She was not accustomed to banter and jesting unless it came from Charles.

“I can do it,” she demurred with a stubborn jut of her chin. “I always do, unless Charles is here.”

Which was hardly ever, no doubt, through no fault of his.

“I am certain you can, but there is no shame in accepting help when it is offered.” Zander extended his hand to assist her onto the seat.

After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her palm in his and agilely climbed onto the driver’s seat.

Closing his fist to capture the feeling of touching her and the unexpected jolt of awareness that thrummed through him at the contact, he marched to the other side and jumped aboard.

Only the rhythmic creak of the wooden wagon wheels and the soft clip-clop of the horse’s hooves interrupted the silence as they approached the grand house. The sun bathed the stones in a warm glow and cast golden light on the rolling green hills.

“What would you never?” Lilly turned halfway to gaze at him, her silly, oversized hat brim flopping low on her forehead.

Zander quirked an eyebrow. “Would I never…?”

“Before Miss McKenzie interrupted, you said that you would never…” More than curiosity brimmed in her big brown eyes.

He inhaled a lungful of air and held it for a few seconds before releasing his breath. “I was about to make another vow, but given your less-than-enthusiastic response the other night, it is probably just as well I did not finish.”

Hands folded in her lap, the nails slightly dirty from her afternoon of harvesting, she regarded him, serious and grave. “That is probably wise. Just as you cannot unring the church bell or catch smoke that has left the chimney, words cannot be unspoken. Sometimes it is better that they not be said at all.”

He dared to place his hand over hers and give her fingers a small squeeze.

“Someday, I hope I have the chance to speak freely, Lilly. When we both know who I am.”

A fragile, sad smile bent her mouth, but she merely nodded.

“Tell me, if you will,” he said to break the solemn, oppressive mantle that seemed to have settled over them, “how did you and Charles come to own Kelston Hall?”

At once, her countenance brightened. “It is rather a long, intriguing story.”

“I would still like to hear it.” And Zander did.

He wanted to know everything about Lilly.

Her features softened as she looked over the horse’s head. “The abbreviated version is that when Viscount Merrivale fell upon hard times, he sold the house to his spinster sister, Matilda Davenport.”

Davenport. Davenport .

That name rang a bell.

Where did Zander know it from?

Bollocks, this lack of memory had become a deuced nuisance.

Oblivious to his frustration, Lilly unfolded, then refolded her hands.

“She turned the manor into a children’s home and oversaw its operation from a distance until her death. I was sent here as a toddler, soon after the home opened. Charles came along a short while later. As the youngest children here, we became like siblings. We even shared a room for the first few years.”

“It is obvious you are very close.” Zander glanced over at her. “Your eyes are a similar color.”

She laughed.

“That is where the resemblance ends. He is tall and thin, and I am…” She gestured toward her voluptuous figure. “Neither.”

“You are lovely, Lilly.”

A becoming blush crept up her cheeks, and she cleared her throat before continuing her tale.

“Miss Davenport visited the home regularly, bringing gifts for all the children when she came, but she always had something special for Charles and me.

“The former headmistress thought Miss Davenport doted on us because we were the youngest children, and she had no children of her own.

“She never knew that Mrs. Reubins took our treats from us the moment Miss Davenport left. Mrs. Reubins said it was not fair to the other children.”

Lilly’s voice hardened and took on a tone Zander had never heard before at the mention of the former headmistress.

“I take it you were not overly fond of Mrs. Reubins?” He shot her a sideways glance, trying to read her expression.

Her hideous hat made it impossible.

Lilly shook her head.

“She was an awful, cruel, vindictive person who should never have been allowed around children, much less in charge of a children’s home.

“She threw a conniption fit when Miss Davenport insisted that I be hired as an instructor when I was sixteen. Mrs. Reubins had an even greater tizzy when Miss Davenport paid for Charles to go to university and medical school.”

Why would an aristocrat go to such efforts for two orphans?

“Miss Davenport sounds like an extraordinary woman.” He flicked the reins.

A bothersome suspicion took root.

“Why do you think she favored you and Charles?” Zander asked.

A frown turned Lilly’s mouth downward.

“That is a question we have both asked many, many times, to which we still have no answer.

“Not that Charles and I are not eternally grateful.

“Only God knows where we would be if it weren’t for her benevolence.” She peeked at him, her eyes bright with appreciation. “She left us what remained of her fortune too, with the stipulation we use it to operate the school.”

Zander gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Honestly, I am surprised Viscount Merrivale did not object, especially since he was pockets to let.”

Surprise skittered across Lilly’s features.

“I had not considered that, but it was her money to do with as she pleased. She told me so herself when I was about fourteen.

“She had inherited a tidy sum from her mother who had inherited from her mother. They invested and increased their fortunes, which aggravated their menfolk to no end.”

Bravo for them.

Lilly chuckled, a sultry echo of amusement. “She made it clear that it delighted her to no end that the men in their lives could not touch a penny of their money.”

Zander pondered that information for a minute.

He would wager it infuriated the Davenport men when she bequeathed her wealth to a small, countryside children’s home. Miss Davenport’s will must have been ironclad, or else her male relatives would have already taken the matter to court and claimed her funds.

Tenderness softened the corners of Lilly’s eyes, and she spread her palms wide on her thighs.

“She always smelled of lilacs and was infallibly kind to me.

“It was a shame she never had children.

“She was pretty, and with her fortune and lineage, I would have thought men would have been eager to wed her, even if she did have a few barely noticeable pockmarks beneath her artfully applied rice powder.”

Zander snapped his head up.

Pockmarks ?

Coincidence?

Mayhap. There were still occasional outbreaks. But not bloody likely.

By thunder, if and when, he regained his memory, he meant to look into the matter.

He would not say a word to Lilly in the meantime.

Could Lilly be the late Matilda Davenport’s illegitimate daughter?

It certainly would explain a lot.