Free Lily (Flower Trilogy) by Lauren Royal

sending her a silent message.
    “Has he shown interest?” Violet asked Rose carefully.
    Their sister’s lovely nose went into the air. “He walked with me in the garden today. He’s been very kind.”
    “Bang, bang!” Nicky yelled. “Auntie Rose, you’re not watching. You’re going to sink!”
    “Quieter,” Violet repeated—rather patiently, Lily thought, considering she’d probably heard her sister utter that word a thousand times or more.
    Lily lowered herself to a chair, being careful not to wake the baby. “Rand is kind,” she said, more dreamily than she’d intended.
    Beatrix started hiccuping.
    “That silly cat.” Rose stood, abandoning her ship to the mercy of the English. She narrowed her eyes at Lily.
    “You made a promise. Are you intending to break it?”
    Violet looked between them curiously. “What promise?”
    “Well . . .” Lily began.
    “She promised,” Rose finished for her, “to stay away from Lord Randal.” Her gaze whipped back to Lily. “And to help me win him.”
    Lily swallowed hard. She’d been helping her, hadn’t she? Every way she knew how. “Have you ever known me to break a promise?”
    Rose appeared to give that some thought. “No,” she said at last. “You always do the right thing.”
    She said it as though it were a character flaw to do the right thing, which Lily was beginning to think might be true.
    Later that afternoon, the notes wafting from the harpsichord did their magic as always, transporting Lily from her family’s cream-and-gold-toned drawing room to a much more peaceful place.
    Trentingham, right now, was far from peaceful. The drive was crammed with carriages waiting to take friends and family home. Uncles and cousins were busy seeing that their things were properly packed and loaded onto the correct vehicles. Children ran through the corridors, their feet pounding on the planked floor as they chased one another in last-minute games.
    Lily knew she should join everyone and say goodbye.

    And she would, after a few more minutes of playing behind the drawing room’s thick oak doors.
    The music was too soothing to resist. Her fingers glided over the keys, picking out a tune of her own creation, one that matched her mood.
    Pensive. Confused. Longing—although for what, she wasn’t sure.
    She sighed when the door opened and her mother slid gracefully into the room.
    Chrystabel waited for her to finish. “Dear,” she started as the last note faded, “that was lovely, but you really should be—”
    “I know, Mum.” Lily rose, forcing her lips to curve in a smile. “I will go make my farewells.”
    “That’s my Lily.” Mum smiled in return. “Aunt Cecily could use some help bringing Lucy and Penelope downstairs.” Lucy and Penelope were Lily’s small cousins, aged two and three. “I’m afraid all our servants are engaged with the luggage.”
    “Of course I’ll help.” With one last longing look at the harpsichord, Lily quit the room and followed her mother upstairs, looking forward to kissing the two girls goodbye.
    But the nursery was empty. “Oh, well,” Mum said cheerfully. “Aunt Cecily must have managed to wrestle the little rapscallions downstairs herself. Come along, then.” She turned back to the corridor.
    Feeling like one of King Charles’s tennis balls being batted back and forth, Lily followed, then almost bumped into her mother when she stopped before a door.
    The door to the room that had been assigned to Rand—
    as evidenced by the humming that drifted from inside.
    Mum knocked and called through the oak. “How is it going, Rand?”

    The door opened, and Rand stood there, a shirt dangling from one hand. “’Tis going well, thank you,” he said, stepping back into the room to toss it into his trunk.
    He looked, Lily thought, like he was relieved to be heading over to Lakefield to stay.
    Well, she was relieved, too. The less she had to watch Rose fawning over him, the better.
    A frown on her forehead,