A Royal Masquerade

Rollie led the newly christened Lady Doubloon into the working pen, and turned her loose. Lily bit back an order to secure the animal while Rollie went to the tack room for saddle, pads and bridle. He returned to hang the gear over the fence and rub his hands together eagerly.

“Ready?”

“Are you going to catch her again?”

“No.” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t serve any purpose. I’m going to make her come to me.”

“You’re what?”

He pushed his hat back and brought his hands to his lean hips. “Watch and learn, sweetheart. From over there by the fence, if you please.”

Reminding herself that she was not the princess just now, Lily bit her tongue and did as she was told. Rollie went down on his haunches, hung his hands off his knees and puffed a blustering breath, bowing his head slightly so that he looked up at the horse from beneath his brow. His hair had seemed black in the shadows of the stable. Here in the sunlight Lily realized that the hair scraped back from his even hairline by the band of his hat was the color of dark chocolate.

She studied his face while he concentrated on the horse. Long and lean, with a squared-off chin and boxy jaw shadowed with a murky beard over dark golden skin, it was a distinctive face full of strong features. His mouth was wide and thin but neatly sculpted, his nose somewhat sharp with a slight bump just where it parted his straight, thick brows. The vibrant-blue eyes set deeply beneath those brows had proven both compelling and oddly unfathomable. She admired the breadth of his shoulders and the long, wiry length of his arms ending in big, squarish palms and long, tapering fingers. His booted feet were large; his legs long, powerful coils beneath him, despite his apparent ease as he crouched before the horse.

To Lily’s surprise, the palomino suddenly swung her head wildly and pranced her front hooves. Rollie slid his arms to his sides, hunched his shoulders and bowed his head. After a moment, he slowly looked up again, a smile dancing in his deep-blue eyes. For some reason, Lily found herself holding her breath. Just when she’d decided that she was an idiot for doing so, the horse moved. Head bowed, it ambled over to where Rollie patiently waited and snuffled his hair, knocking off his hat. Rollie chuckled and lifted a hand to rub a flicking ear. For several delightful moments, the horse snuffled as Rollie rubbed his face and hands over its massive head and neck. Then slowly Rollie rose to his full height, careful to keep an arm lightly about the horse’s neck.

Lady Doubloon tolerated this familiarity for some time before cantering off around the corral, playfully kicking up her heels and tossing her starlight-pale mane. She swept by Rollie repeatedly, coming closer and closer. Other than retrieving his hat, Rollie stood his ground, letting the mare brush him as he laughingly avoided her hooves by shuffling his feet. Eventually, the horse cantered to a stop, hooves cutting grooves in the soft soil of the corral. Sides heaving, she blew into Rollie’s palm. He ruffled her mane and hugged her, while Lily simply marveled.

Long minutes later, Rollie turned and walked calmly toward Lily and the tack spread out on the fence. Lady Doubloon fell into step beside him, for all the world like a friend out for a stroll.

“Get down,” Rollie said to Lily. “Bow your head like I did.”

Lily did as instructed, sinking down onto her haunches. After several moments, she felt the horse nosing, and then lipping, her ponytail. Rollie quietly instructed her, when to lift her hand, how to return Lady Doubloon’s curious caresses. They were well known to each other, she and Lady Doubloon, and it didn’t take long to establish what Lily could only call a firm friendship.

The saddle went on first, but was not cinched until Rollie deemed Lady Doubloon to be in agreement. When Lily pushed the bit between her teeth, the horse offered no resistance whatsoever.

“I’ll take a seat first, if you don’t mind,” Rollie said, having adjusted the stirrups. Before Lily could answer, he swung up into the saddle, clearly not used to being gain-said, despite the polite phrasing. He simply sat for a while, making himself comfortable in the saddle, before reaching for the reins, but even then he held the horse still. After some time, he got down again and began shortening the stirrups. “Your turn,” he informed her.

Lily mimicked his behavior. She’d been on Lady Doubloon’s back before, but the mare hadn’t exactly been thrilled about it. This time, the horse seemed not only willing but eager.

“She’s ready,” Rollie said. “Take it slow and announce your intentions first.”

“Announce my intentions?” Lily echoed.

He squinted up at her. “Just keep it simple. When you want to go, say so before you touch your heels to her flanks.”

“I suppose you think she’ll understand me,” Lily quipped.

“She will eventually,” he replied lightly, stationing himself at Lily’s knee.

Considering all she had just seen, Lily was not inclined to argue. She picked up the reins and said, “Let’s go, girl.”

When she touched her heels to Doubloon’s flanks, Rollie instantly stepped off. A split second later, the horse stepped off, too.

“Left,” Lily announced, and just as she laid the rein against Lady Doubloon’s neck, Rollie turned. The horse followed smoothly. This went on for some time, until the horse balked, at which point Rollie turned to caress her head, speaking softly.

“Now, now, in for a penny, in for a pound, my lady. We’ve begun work here, and if you’re to become the splendid mount I know you can be, you must learn to obey loyally and promptly. Otherwise, you’re just a pretty hobby, not even a good pet, and you’re much too intelligent and beautiful for either.” He looked up at Lily, then stepped back and folded his arms. “Again, with a bit more authority, if you please.”

Lily repeated her command. To her surprise, Rollie stood still, but the horse performed instantly and flawlessly. When the animal balked again a few moments later, Rollie instructed Lily to “talk her into it.” Lily leaned forward and spoke into the horse’s ear while repeating her command action. Lady Doubloon flicked an ear, huffed, and reluctantly did as she was bidden. Rollie called a halt soon after.

Together, Lily and Rollie unsaddled and groomed the mare in her stall. All the while, Rollie heaped praise and affection on the animal. Finally, he treated the preening mare with a fistful of oats and a small piece of honeycomb, which he explained he liked to keep on hand for a special reward. When they left the stall, Lady Doubloon surprised Lily by trying to follow them. Rollie moved her back into the stall and closed the gate, saying, “Stay back. You’ve earned a rest, my love. I’ll come round and check on you later, and the three of us will get together again soon. Goodbye for now.” He rubbed the big golden head and gently tugged at the pale forelock.

Lily took her own leave in much the same way, murmuring, “Goodbye, Lady Doubloon, and thank you.”

The horse huffed at them as they walked away.

“There’s coffee in the office,” Rollie said. “Have you time for a cup?”

“Yes, of course.”

He slid her a quick look. “I suppose your mistress is out on the ride.”

“Er, not exactly.”

“No?” He pushed the office door back, allowing her to pass through the opening before him. “Just who is your lady?”

Lily wrinkled her nose and considered the lie carefully, finally deciding to get as close to the truth as possible. “I answer to the princess.”

He lifted a brow at that and turned away to toss his hat onto the desk and fill two waxed paper cups with the strong, black brew left warming on an electric burner positioned on a rolling cart. Only at the last moment did he pause. “We have hot water if you prefer tea.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I’m used to Jock’s coffee.”

He handed over the cups and leaned back against the battered desk while Lily took one of the equally battered chairs in front of it. A small leather sofa had been shoved up against the wall between a narrow bookcase and the door. A small barrel used as a footstool sat to one side. Dusty magazines and well-used books were piled together with various trophies and some detritus on the bookcase. A file cabinet in the corner behind the desk was overflowing with papers. A computer arranged on a narrow table against the wall blinked mistily from behind a plastic cover.

The coffee was bitter, but Lily did not complain. Rollie fairly chugged his, drinking it down in big gulps. She suspected that he probably drank too much of the stuff.

“That was amazing, what you did out there,” she told him honestly. “Where did you learn such things?”

“America. It’s a technique used in the northwest there.”

“You’ve traveled then?”

He nodded. “Some. You?”

“Of course.”

He smiled. “Ah, yes. A princess cannot be without her maid.”

She smiled, too. “Just so.”

He crossed his feet at the ankles and folded his arms. “Tell me, does the princess have any unusual guests just now?”

“Unusual?” Lily echoed, stiffening. “Whatever do you mean?”

He waved a hand negligently. “I was just wondering if the lot that came through here this morning are the usual faces seen around the princess and her brother, or if perhaps a more reticent guest might be in residence.”

Lily stood up, feeling a distinct unease. “These are odd questions.”

“Are they? I didn’t realize. I’m just curious.”

“About the guests?”

He shrugged negligently. “It pays to know such things. As a servant yourself, you must realize that certain types of knowledge are essential to anticipating your employer’s needs—and those of her guests, of course.”

She carried her cup to the one small, dusty window at the end of the room and pretended to gaze out at the lushly rolling landscape. “The lot that came through here this morning are the usual crew,” she said lightly, “with the exception of a trio of young women in whom the prince’s mother is trying to interest him.”

Rollie chuckled. “Matchmaking mamas, one of the most formidable forces on earth. From what I saw this morning, she has her work cut out for her, though.”

Lily turned to face the room again, smiling. “He calls them the unholy trinity.”

“Does he?”

She nodded. “He doesn’t want to be in love again. It’s too painful for him, after losing his wife and child a little over a year ago.”

Rollie sent her a strange look, something snapping in the mysterious depths of those blue eyes. “You sound as if you know Prince Damon rather well.”

Oops. She glanced down at her cup, gathering her thoughts. “He and his sister are quite close. One absorbs certain knowledge just from being around.”

“His mother doesn’t seem to have absorbed that knowledge.”

Lily wrinkled her nose. “She thinks that he’ll get over his loss more easily if he fixes his interest, and, of course, there is the succession to secure.”

“Of course.”

He was still looking at her oddly, that mysterious glint in his eye. “Tell me something,” he said smoothly. “In your opinion, are the Montagues capable of acting, shall we say, unlawfully?”

She rocked back on her heels. “No! Why would you even ask such a thing?”

He shrugged. “I like to know who I’m working for, what to expect of them.”

“I find your question insulting,” she informed him with a tilt of her chin.

“Oh? Why is that?”

Why, indeed? She turned away, thinking quickly, and finally said, “I know the Montagues. I grew up around them. They can be fierce when one of their own is threatened.”

“Ruthless?” he interjected.

She turned once more to meet his gaze levelly. “Yes, ruthless, when need be, but not malicious, never that.”

He smiled, and something about it made her think that he didn’t quite believe her. “The princess is fortunate to have you,” he said silkily. “Such loyalty speaks well for both of you.”

Lily lifted her chin a notch higher. “The princess needs no one to speak for her,” she said smartly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the castle.”

She circled the desk, placing her partially filled coffee cup in the trash can next to the cart. He shifted as she strode past him and shot out a hand, clamping it around her wrist.

“When will I see you again?” he asked softly.

She stared at his hand, stunned by the weight and heat of it, only belatedly realizing that his grip was gentle, unthreatening. Carefully, she rotated her wrist, freeing it. “I really couldn’t say,” she murmured, and swept from the room. She didn’t slow down until she had cleared the tunneled archway through which she had entered the stables.

What a disturbing man he was, disturbing but compelling. And real. Perhaps more real than anyone she’d ever known before. How odd that was, to feel as if life was somehow more vibrant, more intense in him. He made her feel as if she had been hibernating, living half-awake. What he had done with that horse! She shivered and remembered the unsettling warmth of his hand. If she was wise, she would steer clear of Rollie Thomas. But for the first time in a very, very long time, she wasn’t sure that the wisest course was the course she was going to take.

Chapter Three

Lily had scarcely cleared the door before Jock filled it. Wondering how much he’d overheard, Roland leaned back against the edge of the desk once more and folded his arms.

“Keeping yourself busy are you, boyo?” Jock said, holding his gaze level.

Roland shrugged. “Trying to. Where have you been? I expected—”

“What were you doing with Lily?” the old man demanded, and Roland had to tamp down his natural inclination to give rather than take orders. Reminding himself that he needed this job at least until the Montagues had been cleared as his sister’s kidnappers, he swallowed down a sharp retort and took a deep breath.

“Just chatting. Why do you ask?”

“Lily’s a special lass, due respect.”

Roland bit back an angry answer and managed to keep his voice light and level. “Are you implying that I would treat the woman—any woman—with less than respect?”

“You tell me.”

“If I have to do that, Jock, then you’re not nearly as insightful as I’ve given you credit for being.”

Jock pursed his lips, conceding nothing. “Has anyone ever told you that you speak like a college-educated man?”

“And you speak like an Irish curmudgeon,” Roland returned smoothly.

“About Lily,” Jock pressed.

Roland sighed inwardly. He was unused to explaining himself to anyone but his father. “We worked the palomino,” he explained. “Lily assured me that she is allowed to deal with the animal.”

“Aye. Go on.”

“She’s very good,” Roland said.

“As if I didn’t know,” Jock retorted.

“She’s determined to see the mare named Lady Doubloon. I warned her that the princess has the privilege of choosing, but as I said, Lily is determined.”

“Determined?” Jock repeated, sounding mildly amused.

Roland nodded. “She seems to think she has some influence with her mistress.”

“Oh, aye,” Jock mumbled, rubbing his chin.

“Lily says the princess will listen to her,” Roland went on, intent on putting Jock’s suspicions to rest. “She says the princess needs help with such things, that she’s ‘boring’ and ‘constrained.”’

“Does she now?” Jock said, inclining his head as a small grin twisted his fat lips. “Constrained, aye. Boring, never.”

“Do you think Lily can convince her to name the mare Lady Doubloon?”

“Without a doubt.”

Roland nodded, having talked himself in a circle. A change of subject was in order. “Is the riding party returning?”

“Oh, aye, eventually, I dare say,” was the reply. Jock folded his arms and looked up at him, not in the least intimidated by Roland’s superior height and size. “Now why don’t you tell me what you have planned for our Lily?”

Roland folded his own arms, mimicking the stable master’s stance. “Planned?” He scoffed at the very notion. “I haven’t planned anything for Lily. I only met her this morning.”

“She’s a bonny lass, is our Lily,” Jock said warningly.

Roland chuckled mirthlessly. “So I noticed.”

“Aye, and that’s what troubles me.”

Exasperation got the better of Roland. He brought his hands to his waist. “For pity’s sake, Jock, I can’t be the first man to have noticed that she’s a beautiful woman.”

“Not at all,” Jock admitted. “But you’re the first man she’s noticed in many a day.”

Roland’s brows rose high. “Is that so?”

“Aye, that’s so,” Jock growled, “and I’m warning you now, lad, much as I like you, if you hurt our Lily, I’ll come for you with hammer and tongs.”

“You and who else, old man?” Roland challenged.

“You might be surprised,” Jock said, and then he pulled himself up to his full height, such as it was. His round belly lifted, and his twill pants threatened to droop dangerously. Jock hitched them up with both hands. “Well, now that you’ve been warned, you’ll go careful, I expect.”

“Are you telling me to stay away from her?” Roland demanded, not at all liking the idea.

“Now would I do that?” Jock sounded shocked at the very notion. “I merely asked you to step easy, not to hurt her.”

Roland opened his mouth—and closed it again. How was he supposed to argue with that? Demanding he not see Lily and asking him merely not to hurt her were two very different things, after all. Roland looked at his feet and cleared his throat. “I don’t have any problem with that,” he said.

“Well, now, I didn’t really think you would,” Jock replied.

Roland lifted a hand to the back of his neck. “Listen, what’s going on with this Lily/Lillian thing? Since when do princesses share names with their maids?”

Jock rubbed his stubbled chin and said, “Naming a child after a princess is an act of respect, laddie, don’t you think?”

“Mmm, I suppose so. I wonder if the princess doesn’t mind, though.”

“And why should she?”

“Frankly, I suspect the princess can’t hold a light to Lily,” Roland muttered.

“You think not?” Jock mused.

“Lily’s not just beautiful, Jock. She has a gift with the horses.”

“Aye, I know it well.”

“What about the princess?”

Jock seemed to consider a moment. “Well, she considers herself something of a horsewoman, and she can sit a saddle as pretty as any, but I doubt we’ll be seeing her much around here.”

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