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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

To her surprise, Rose reached Lilac before the bachelors did.

“What are you doing here?” Lilac whispered past the smile plastered on her face. By the Green Mother, every muscle keeping her lips spread in that gesture of friendliness were already aching and threatening mutiny. “You’re supposed to be at the refreshment table.”

“I told you,” Rose whispered back. “I’m here to find my mountain man. These guys can’t all be here for you.”

“Boar’s going to blame me and—”

“And would you rather be alone? Or would you rather have a wing-woman? You’ve told me for years how insufferable you find all this.”

“Fine.” Though it was a huffed admission, Lilac was glad for her sister’s support. Rose put her back against hers, like they were facing off against the world together. When she found Lilac’s hand, Lilac squeezed her sister back. “Thanks.” Maybe this would be fun this year, watching all the suitors falter against Hurricane Rose’s barrage of a personality.

“So?” she murmured .

“I spy with my little eye,” Rose began, “someone tall . . ..”

That narrowed it down only slightly.

“Handsome . . ..”

Again, a minor winnowing.

“ Delightfully muscular.”

Lilac flushed at the shameless lust in her sister’s voice.

“Blond . . ..”

Green Mother help me , she groaned inwardly. She’s describing Allen.

The caretaker was headed straight for them, after all. And (she was still loath to admit) looking quite spectacular in the outfit the Hall had seen to provide him with—the burgundy vest accented both his broad shoulders and his trim waist and somehow turned his blond hair a richer gold. Little H ’s and holly sprigs were embroidered in a matching gold thread along the lapels and hem.

Catching her watching him, he winked in that infuriatingly teasing way of his. Like he didn’t obviously know she disliked him.

She gave one sculpted eyebrow an imperious arch in reply when the back of the bachelor pack prevented him from coming any further. She wasn’t going to help him get through, not even if it was on official Hawthorne business, that’s for sure. If he needed to talk to them, he’d have to muscle his way forward.

Some traitorous part of her wished he would, for he was just as Rose was describing, even the “roguishly charming” part. Lilac would flat-out reject him, of course, for what he’d done last night, but she realized she wanted him to pursue her. Probably because he was the only man who had met her and hadn’t.

“With blue eyes,” Rose finished.

Lilac blinked in surprise. Allen didn’t have blue eyes. “Wait, what?”

Still holding Rose’s hand, she glanced over her shoulder and visibly startled at the sight of Rose’s honest-to-gods mountain man. It was like she had conjured him out of thin air. The man was just as she’d described, though she’d conveniently omitted the word brute .

His blue eyes glittered like chips of ice, and he had an almost feral grin on his lips as he stood much closer to Rose than propriety allowed. Entranced, Rose wiggled her hand free of Lilac’s and offered it to the brute.

“Rose Hawthorne,” she introduced.

“Darren Morton,” came a gravelly reply. He took her hand, and instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips and pressed a most lascivious kiss to her knuckles. Rose shivered.

“Do you like ice skating?” she asked.

“Rose,” Lilac said, a warning tingling up her spine. She recognized him from yesterday at the Cat & Cauldron, though she’d never seen him in the village before this year. Though, this year had seen a huge influx of visitors.

In characteristic Rose fashion, her sister ignored her. “Bye!”

Rose and Darren practically vanished into thin air, leaving the press of bachelors to crowd even tighter around her like a pack of wolves encircling a wounded doe.

The onslaught began. Vapid compliments, well-wishes for her and her family’s health, how is she enjoying the festivities, what did she want for yuletide, and other such meaningless twaddle. She smiled demurely, kept the conversation light and flowing as she had been trained, and left them all with a sense that they might stand a chance to gain her approval this Yuletide Gala if they could just get their competition out of the way.

“Gents,” a voice cut over the din, “if all you’ve got to offer Mistress Lilac are words, then you’re behind in the race. Mistress, would you do me the honor?”

Having partly wedged his way through two men who were determined not to let him come any closer, Allen Sharpe offered her a single sprig of lily-of-the-valley.

She gasped. Boar hadn’t destroyed them all, and better still, Allen had saved one.

“Thank you,” she said, truly meaning it. She took the sprig and held it close, momentarily forgetting her anger with him.

He smiled softly.

The peace granted by the small gesture was shattered when someone practically shouted in her ear that he would be absolutely delighted to get her some punch. Another declared he’d seen wild roses outside, and wouldn’t she like something with a bit more color? That set the entire pack off, all of them fleeing and leaving Lilac and Allen standing within an arm’s length of each other. Alone.

“Now you’ve done it,” she accused. “In a handful of minutes I’ll be drowning in punch and fat with cookies and I’ll have more flowers than a floral nymph.”

“But in the meantime,” he replied, “the quiet’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

Lilac discovered herself inhaling a deep breath, her eyelids fluttering shut. Though the din of vendors hawking their wares and services filled the Hall, this little bubble where she stood with Allen was blissfully quiet.

When she opened her eyes, Allen wore a gentle expression on his face. It was so warm and comforting, like he was welcoming her to just be there, no pretenses or expectations needed.

Don’t do this , she thought, heart suddenly hammering. Don’t make me fall for you.

It could ruin everything.

Then he opened his mouth.

“About last night—”

Lilac’s anger returned, and she would’ve thrown the lily-of- the-valley into his face except she really, really wanted to keep it. The hand not holding the flower balled into a fist, her fingernails cutting tiny sickles into her palm. “Go away, Allen. I have nothing else to say to you.”

“You don’t need to say anything to me. But you will to everyone else.”

“Excuse me?”

Allen glanced over her shoulder to where Boar was greeting everyone at the door, his attention firmly on his host duties. “C’mon, while he’s not looking,” he whispered to Lilac. “Follow me. Be quick or Rose’ll find out and blab.”

Lilac was more intrigued that she cared to admit, especially since Allen had pegged her siblings so accurately after knowing them for less than a day. She kept the scowl on her face, though, because while she knew last night wasn’t his fault, she was still hurt and devastated and needed a target for her anger.

“What is it?” she asked crossly as he led her down the leftmost row of booths.

“Boar said the Roots had to cancel their booth for the day, probably because Kalina’s with Zofia in the hospital and Jim is left to manage the shop,” he explained. “But the booth was still grown, and it’s empty. Or, it had been. See?”

Lilac gasped again, hands flying to her mouth. Between one heartbeat and the next, the spark inside her rekindled with newfound hope.

Upon a plain linen tablecloth and arranged in neat little rows were her bottles, jars, vials, and soaps. Most, but not all. There was no sign declaring the identity of the vendor, but anyone passing by would immediately recognize her and the wares she offered. Even if they thought she was selling them on her mother’s behalf.

“But . . . but I heard the crate shatter!”

“The crate, yeah, but I tossed everything else into the snow bank. Boar should’ve been a little more specific in his command, but shhh, don’t tell anyone.”

Leaning over her, but careful not to touch her, he picked up a green glass bottle. “One of these did break, though. Cut my hand on the glass, but then I tried some of your Wound Salve and it healed it right up. Quite the talent you have.”

Lilac’s heart would’ve sang if it had only had a voice.

Allen handed her the bottle to inspect. “I tried my best to reink the labels, since some got pretty wet. About half are really smudged, and I didn’t want to assume or anything, so I set those off to the side for you to check out. If you have time between customers.”

His wink sent a shudder down her spine that pooled in her belly.

“Allen . . . I don’t know what to say.” Her thoughts were a swarm of bees to match the flurry of butterflies in her stomach. She realized her eyes were stinging. With excitement, hope, and more than a little shame. She’d had no right to use him as her scapegoat.

Allen cleared his throat to gain her attention, pulling the pocket square from his vest and offering it to her.

“A handkerchief?” She sniffled, blinking back her tears. Then she actually giggled. “How cliché.”

“It’s only cliché if it doesn’t work.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Then she gulped. “But you won’t be. By the Green Mother, Boar will kill you when he finds out.”

“ If. If he finds out. And he won’t if you sell out quickly. So save my hide and get to it, okay?”

If she wasn’t convinced he was some kind of con man and harboring a secret motive, she would’ve thrown her arms around him and kissed him. As it was, her arms itched to do just that. Allen seemed to sense it, color rising to his cheeks. But he only gave her a nod and turned away, probably to make himself scarce.

When Lilac turned back to the booth, her booth full of her potions, the smile that split her lips was genuine and wide. It didn’t even hurt.