A Royal Masquerade. Arlene James

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.”