Read Online Amethyst by Lauren Royal - Free Book Online Page A

wake up back in Cheapside.
    She took strength from Lord Greystone's presence, but she wished they were back at the inn, sitting side by side with tankards of mind-numbing ale, not saying anything. If he were going to insist on talking to her, she would have to make sure the conversation stayed on safe subjects.
    When the drumming stopped, she took a quick breath. "You…you're very good with the children."
    "Thank you." He looked relieved. "The lad Davis is an enormous help."
    "Why are you…doing this? Caring for these children, I mean. It's very nice, but…"
    "But why am I shepherding children when every other able man is still in London, fighting the fire?" Lord Greystone led her up a rise to where he'd spotted an ancient, broken stone wall. He seated himself upon a low section. "It's difficult to credit, but I've always felt a kind of…sympathy, I suppose you could call it, for children who are lost or abandoned. Perhaps I would have been of more use fighting the fire, but—"
    "No, not at all." Amy levered herself up to sit on the wall, angling to face him. "The children needed you. Thousands are fighting the fire; one more would make little difference."
    Lord Greystone hesitated, then shrugged. "I know how those children feel. When I was young, my parents left me quite often. Most of the time, in fact. And I was lonely and scared all the time. I wasn't a very brave lad," he admitted ruefully.
    "They left you?" Amy could barely conceive of such a childhood; her parents had never left her for so much as a day.
    Until today , she realized suddenly.
    She felt a brief, sharp stab of grief, then pushed it down, down, far inside, like stuffing one of those new jack-in-the-box toys back under its lid.
    She bit her lip. Lord Greystone was watching her. As long as she kept asking him questions, she wouldn't have to think about it. "Why…how could they do that?"
    He cocked his head. "They were passionate Royalists. Cavaliers. King and country came first. We, my brothers and sister and I, were such a distant second we barely even counted."
    "But…where did they leave you?"
    "Oh, with other Royalist families. They weren't cruel—they didn't actually abandon us. But to a child…well, it felt as though they did. To me, anyway." He paused, twisting his ring again. "My brother Jason—he's two years older than I—feels differently. But he was older when the war started."
    "How about your sister?"
    "Kendra and her twin, Ford, were so young that I don't think they remember any other kind of life. They're twenty-two—about your age, I think?"
    Amy nodded. "And now?" she asked. "How do they feel about it now? Your parents, I mean. Are they sorry?"
    "They died. At the Battle of Worcester, fifteen years ago."
    His parents were dead…just like hers. "Oh…" she started, then couldn't say anything more.
    Mistaking her renewed grief for sympathy, Lord Greystone rushed to reassure her. "No need to feel sorry. It was Charles's last stand against Cromwell, and my folks wouldn't have missed it for the world. I was a strapping thirteen by then, safely ensconced with other Royalist exiles in Holland. I didn't miss them much, since they were hardly ever around anyway."
    He sighed, gazing out into the endless dark rolling hills.
    "Was your family Royalist, Amy? During the war, I mean?"
    "No," she said slowly, pausing as she thought how to explain it. "I mean…we weren't not Royalist, either. We were—nothing, I guess. Papa just tried to keep doing business no matter what happened." To Amy's surprise and dismay, her mention of Papa released a floodgate of emotions. Tears began welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, chagrined that she couldn't control herself.
    "Don't be sorry. Whether you were Royalist or nay—it doesn't signify. It seems a fine survival tactic to me."
    She couldn't answer. Her throat seemed to close up, and a warm teardrop rolled down her cheek and splashed onto her clasped hands.
    "Amy?" Lord Greystone probed.