Read Lily (Flower Trilogy) for Free Online Page B

see a bird land gracefully atop the harpsichord.
    “Hello, Lady,” Lily greeted softly, her fingers not missing a note.
    Confused, Rand ran his tongue across his teeth. “Do you call all sparrows Lady?”
    “Of course not. I don’t call most sparrows anything.
    But Lady is special.”
    “Do you mean . . .” He shook his head, then stared at the nondescript bird. “Is this the same sparrow that flew in at supper, the one you fed at Ford’s house?”
    “One and the same,” she said, playing a little bit faster.
    “I raised her after I found her in an abandoned nest, and now she follows me around. She and Jasper.”
    “Jasper?”
    “The squirrel.”
    Still playing, she nodded toward the sill. Sure enough, a red squirrel sat there, gnawing on an acorn. Rand supposed it must be the same squirrel that had appeared at supper, although damned if he could tell for sure. Like sparrows, one squirrel looked much the same as another.

    Beatrix settled back down on Lily’s lap, and Lady flew to join her friend at the window. Jasper chattered, his bushy tail flicking up and down. To Rand, it seemed they were watching him. Talking about him.
    Under all those sets of eyes, he shifted uneasily. “Are you never alone?”
    “Rarely,” Lily said blithely.
    Rand finally shrugged. Absurd as it might seem, perhaps it was natural for her to be surrounded by such loyal creatures. He decided to watch Lily instead of the animals. Feeling pleasantly worn-out after the long day, he swayed in time to her music. “What song is this?”
    “Nothing, really. Just something I made up.”
    “You write music, too? Is there no end to your talents?” Slowly he sat on the bench seat beside her.
    Her fingers faltered, then resumed, and he smiled to himself to think he’d managed to fluster her. Was it the compliment, or his nearness?
    He hoped the latter. Her nearness set him on fire. He’d known four years ago that something in Lily Ashcroft spoke to something in Rand Nesbitt. Though he’d tried his best to forget her, his efforts had been for naught.
    Beatrix began hiccuping. “I’m not particularly talented,” Lily protested. “Your singing is much better than my playing. I’ve never heard another voice as rich as yours.”
    Unlike her, he wasn’t modest enough to deny a truth.
    He knew his voice was exceptional, but it wasn’t a talent that had been valued in his family. “I’ve never heard anything like your music,” he said. “So we’re even. And I hope we’ll be able to play and sing together again.”
    At his words, her hands ceased moving for good. They went limp and dropped into her lap, causing Beatrix to squeal indignantly and leap to the floor. In seconds, the cat had followed her animal friends out the window.
    Lily cleared her throat, as if to bring herself back to reality. “If your room at Lakefield is not ready tomorrow night, perhaps Rose will care to sing with you again.”
    She looked so earnest. He fisted his fingers to keep from reaching to touch that adorable dent in her chin.
    “I’m not interested in whether Rose sings with me again.
    As long as you play.”
    “Wh-what?” She shifted, turning to face him, searching his eyes with her large blue ones. “But you sing together so nicely. And she knows languages—not ancient ones like you do, but many modern ones, and—”
    “I care not about Rose,” he clarified. “But you . . . I’ve thought about you for four years.”
    The breath rushed out of her with a whooosh. Her eyes grew even bigger and bluer, huge in her fine-boned face.
    She looked fragile and sweet as an angel.
    But Rand was feeling anything but angelic.
    Unable to help himself, he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. His arms sneaked around to pull her gently against him. She hesitated at first, but after a moment he felt her yield to the kiss. Her lips were soft and giving, her skin warm, exuding a heavenly scent of lilies.
    It made his head swim, the blood sluice through his