Page 46 of Once Upon a Midnight Dream

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.”