Liberty Hill (Western Tide Series) (33 page)

Perturbed, Evelyn stopped abruptly.

“What are you doing, Lucius?” she demanded to know.

He stared at her, clueless.

“Whatever are you talking about, Evelyn?”

She indicated towards the others, who were still far from hearing distance.

“Why do you care so much? All of a sudden? Hm? Looking after a widow and two children, spewing nonsense about ‘the most beautiful creature I have ever seen’. What’s that about?”

Lucius was stunned into laughter.

“Why?” he asked. “Is it working?”

Evelyn would not even consider the answer to that question. After all, how could she, Lucius’ oldest friend, believe that Lucius found her beautiful? He had certainly never treated her as such. And besides, she didn’t
want
him to think she was beautiful. Did she?

No. No! Lucius Flynn was vile. Lucius Flynn was petty. Lucius Flynn was corrupt. And Lucius Flynn had had a thousand other girlfriends of whom Evelyn Brennan was not the slightest bit jealous.

Or maybe she was.

But that wasn’t the point! The point was that Lucius was unsuitable. The point was that Lucius was a terribly good actor, and the longer he played at this charade of being a gentleman, the more Evelyn would be inclined to wish it were true. In the end, it would only leave her gravely disappointed.

Just as it had that day in the stables.

“Of course it isn’t working,” she argued. “It is a silly charade. Surely you didn’t expect me to believe a word of it.”

“Miss Brennan, we had an agreement. You requested to see this side of me.”

“But this isn’t a side of you. This isn’t you at all.”

“Are you so certain?” He took a step closer, his eyes intent upon hers. “I believe you find me false because the moment I begin to speak the truth, you refuse to look at me. You don’t want to see it, or hear it, because you don’t want me to prove you wrong. That’s it, isn’t it? You have this preconceived idea of who I am, and you refuse to believe differently. You want to believe that I have no character, that I am heartless, that I am perfectly incapable of being a gentleman.”

He seemed sincere, which made her believe he was lying, a fact that was terribly disconcerting because she found herself wanting to believe him. Yet she knew she could not, since she had put him up to this challenge.

“I cannot reconcile your velvet tongue to the callous heart I know to exist,” she said. “I see through it entirely, Lucius. I know what you are capable of. The fact that I am here in this God forsaken jungle is evidence enough.”

He grimaced.
She knew what he was capable of.
Like striking her across the face when she was just a girl.

“You filter everything I do through the sting of a childhood memory,” he told her, sadly. “I understand. I hurt you. But it was an
accident
, Evelyn.”

“As everything else in your life just happens to be an accident?” she cried, incredulous. “Like your luck with cards? Like the night my father died?”

Lucius gritted his teeth.

“As you are a woman,” he spoke presently, “I shall forgive your exhaustive romantic imaginations. There was nothing grand and everything terrible about that night. It was simple, it was quick, it was devastating, and for my part, Evelyn, it was unavoidable. A man without respect or principle, a man who despised your precious Ireland, provoked me, and when he came at me with a knife, your father stepped between us. That was it. That was what really happened.”

“An accident.”

“Yes, an accident.”

“You have to take responsibility for something, Lucius.”

Lucius threw his arms in the air.

“Have I not done that?” he wondered. “There are certain parts of our past that I cannot change, no matter how badly I wish I could. And I apologize for that. But I am making an effort to make the most of here and now, Evelyn. Can you not see that? Will you even permit it? Will you not allow me to be a better man?”

She considered. This was a game of persuasion at which Lucius excelled. How else had he won the desire of so many others? As their conversation dragged on, his skills were becoming repellent, because she knew she should see right through them. But she could not. His words, even his body language was convincing, and everything she thought she knew about him was threatened. But Evelyn was not accustomed to being wrong. Lucius was right about that. She
hated
being wrong, yet in this maddening moment, for the first time, she wanted to be.

The worst thing, however, was that she was probably right.

“Your motives are questionable,” she told him.

“No, Evelyn,” Lucius refuted. “My intentions are the same as what I told you the day of our wedding: to partner with you in a quest for liberty. I want us to work together, to be allies, maybe even friends. I have seen you, Evelyn. I know there is more to you than this bitter young woman who is bent upon making my life miserable. Because the night I almost died, you proved I meant something to you, though you would never admit it. Despite what you wish to believe, I am not heartless. I cared about you that day in the stables, and I care about you today. I’ve never stopped.”

She searched his eyes for what felt to him an eternity, and he thought that perhaps she might believe him.

But then, she gazed past him, where Adele, Josephine, and the baby approached.

She forced a smile.

“I apologize,” she told the others. “We rushed ahead. It was my fault, really, but Lucius has been
such
a gentleman. He insisted upon waiting for you, which proves he deserves his little prize, doesn’t it? Lucius, remind me to give you that coffee when we return to camp. The charade is over. Let’s continue, shall we?”

So that was it then. The game was over. And Lucius, for all his honesty, had lost.

That was why he had always pursued the easy women. For all their faults, they had never judged him for his, and they had never let him down. Not like this.

“Certainly,” he said, resigned. “Allow me to lead the way.”

* * *

They approached a clearing through the trees and there, right before them, was a pool so bright and blue it looked as though a piece of sky had been cut out and positioned in a little hole of earth. The company released a corporate sigh as they drew nearer, awestruck by the beauty before them.

The water shone like an aquamarine stone, clear and still as glass. There was perfect visibility all the way to the bottom, where one could see all kinds of sticks and roots and stones.

The pool was surrounded by enormous ferns, aromatic flowers, and trees whose round, naked trunks wound every which way, crisscrossing through one another, forming vertical labyrinths in the air and dipping laterally over the water, like an animal lapping at a spring. Heavy vines sagged from the presiding canopy of treetops and large, blue boulders protruded from the still water like miniature mountains.

“I have never seen anything like it,” Evelyn whispered, keeping her voice soft lest the vision startle and disappear.

Lucius felt as though he had stepped into one of his better dreams. He gaped at the scene, his eyes bulging with excitement. He physically felt his body being drawn to the water, while forcing his mind to remain behind with the women.

He could not just take off and leave the ladies standing there without an explanation, so he turned to them and said, “well, it is quite fortunate I am here to act as your guide and protector, ladies. If you will excuse me, I shall do my duty by making certain this pool is absolutely safe for your enjoyment.”

He dropped the bundle of laundry and sprang forward, where he disappeared behind a massive tree. The women saw his head bob in and out of various locations, first out of a bush, then through a veil of moss, and again from behind another tree. They heard his feet tramping through leaves and underbrush, and listened as he muttered, “all right, nothing there. Yes, yes, all clear. Not a crocodile in sight. Snakes? No snakes, either. Bloody…! Oh, I see, I see. But it’s just a bit of web.”

After a moment, they could not hear him at all.

“Where has he gone off to?” Evelyn asked Adele, who simply shook her head in reply.

There was an abrupt scuffle nearby, causing a fleet of birds to burst from hiding and abscond into the air. A man’s cry followed, and a shirtless Lucius appeared, hands clasped around a vine as he swung from between the trees and high over the water. He released the vine and plunged into the pool with an ungraceful splash, breaking the tranquil surface. When he reemerged, he wiped the moisture from his eyes and grinned boyishly at the women.

Evelyn rolled her eyes.

“Leave it to you, Mr. Flynn, to disturb a perfectly peaceful scene.”

“Leave it to you, Miss Brennan, to refrain from a bit of fun.”

“Who said I was refraining?”

“Stop flapping your lips and get your little arse in here.”

 “I beg your pardon!” Evelyn cried. “A lady cannot swim in her gowns.”

As one, the women moved towards an area bedecked with boulders, where they began to prepare the clothes for washing. Lucius swam about gleefully, dipping below the surface to explore the depths of the spring.

Evelyn mimicked Josephine, a seasoned laundress, as Evelyn had never washed an article of clothing in her life. She tied her skirts above her knees and waded into the water alongside Josephine and Adele, where they soaked the laundry before taking their soap and scrubbing it against the rocks.

“Oh!” Adele cried, fleeing suddenly from the spring.

“What is it?” Evelyn asked, alarmed by her friend’s abrupt retreat.

“It felt as though something…” Adele paused, searching her legs. “Something might have bitten me!”

“Might have?” Evelyn repeated, leaning down and peering into the water. “Are you not certain?”

“Well, it was a strange feeling. It did not hurt, exactly, but it was a funny sort of sensation!”

Evelyn scrunched up her face, then released a little howl of her own and followed Adele to the embankment.

“I felt it, too!” she cried.

The two women looked at Josephine, who was giggling and pointing to the water. They leaned as far as they dared, following her gaze. There, beneath the ripples, were the violators.

“Why, it’s only a school of little fish!” Evelyn exclaimed.

Lucius poked his head above the water.

“What’s all the fuss about?” he asked. “I could hear you screeching from the bottom of the spring.”

“We were being attacked, Mr. Flynn,” Evelyn replied.

“By the minnows?” Lucius chuckled. “Oh, don’t mind them. They’re harmless. Just trying to snatch a kiss or two. Can’t say I blame them.”

Evelyn was not enthused.

“You are impossible,” she told him.

“And you are a coward and a prude,” he responded.

As the wash could not be left entirely to Josephine, Adele and Evelyn coaxed themselves back into the water, trying not to focus on the tiny creatures as they nibbled at their pretty white ankles.

Every so often, Lucius would check on the women, but found himself unable to see anything but Evelyn’s deliciously fair legs. He would stare until threatened with discovery, then quickly return underwater before Evelyn could take notice. She
did
notice, however; for subtlety was not one of Lucius’ talents. Self-consciously, she pulled her skirts as low as she could manage without dampening them.

Presently, Lucius grew tired of his own company.

“Aren’t you going to bathe yourselves?” he asked the women.

Evelyn held a pair of bloomers aloft and wrung them out into the water.

 “It would be indecent for us to bathe with you present, Mr. Flynn,” she replied. “Women cannot simply remove their blouses in the presence of others, as you do.”

Lucius snorted.

“I don’t see why not.”

He noticed Adele’s cheeks flush, and made a mental note not to say such things in her presence.

“I can leave, if you like,” he said. “Inform me when you are ready, and I shall stand guard at the trail.”

“That would be lovely,” Adele said. “A lady must be modest, and I shall feel more at ease if I know there is no danger of being discovered in my bathing costume.”

When the women were finished with the laundry, Lucius slipped away. He returned to the trail and found a seat on an old, fallen tree, which had been uprooted by wind and laid to rest on the cool, dark earth. He amused himself by watching an army of ants as they burrowed in and out of a hole in the log, emerging one by one with a bit of wood or dirt, which they promptly dropped in a pile and disappeared once more into their tiny hollow. One diligent soldier stopped to lick one of his arms and run it through his long antennae, which had gathered a bit of dust.

Lucius marveled at the evident intelligence of such a small and seemingly insignificant life form. The insect had a mission and a purpose, but he also possessed enough self-awareness to look after his own needs while contributing to the common good of his fellow ants.

Lucius offered his new friend a nod of approval.

“I admire your spirit,” he told the oblivious creature, who did not so much as look at him. “You are a good man.”

The ant replied by retreating into his hole, and Lucius studied the proceeding creatures to see if he could discern a difference between them and his noble friend. He was disappointed, however, for each one bore no distinguishing feature from the other.

“It’s no matter,” he told them collectively. “I’m sure you’re
all
good men, the lot of you. Your queen must be proud.”

Lucius checked his pocket watch and sighed. He did not know how long the women would be at their baths, and he could not very well go and ask them now, could he?

He rose to stretch his legs, moseying a little ways down the trail, stopping here and there to observe a leaf or a flower, or to study the intricacies of a spider’s web. These caught and held his attention for a fraction of a moment before he went looking for some new amusement. As Lucius had never had much of an interest in botany, the plants soon left him feeling bored.

He wondered what Samuel Davies was doing. The poor sod had a dreary afternoon laid out for him, that much was certain. He was a grand chap to gladly stare at their belongings for the last, what, three hours? Oy. What was it with women and their toilettes? How long did it take to suds up and wash off?