A Secret Ambition

XXI

He appeared suddenly quite shocked at himself, and he seemed to realise that he needed to put distance between them ... particularly as they were in public. And yet he did not. He didn't move an inch. One would not be able to fit a piece of paper between the figures of Lily and Callan.

"I need to thank you," Callan continued quietly, his green eyes never straying from Lily's. "If it weren't for you, I would never had followed through with the meeting I had yesterday. I am not too proud to admit that. But I went because I wanted ... I wanted ... well I wanted you to be pleased with me. You made me want to try again.

"I met with Prince Whatshisname. The Duke of Ashwood, he is."

I'm familiar, Lily thought with a gulp.

"Oddest man I've ever encountered, but if he's honest, and I'm having to trust with every last penny I have that he is, I'll be able to turn my business around, get out of debt, get out from under my grandfather, I can pay you ..."

Lily could hear the excitement, the hope, in Callan's voice. She could not put into words the relief that she felt that he no longer sounded like the defeated man he was a few days earlier. He sounded much like the man he truly was. Inspired, motivated, determined ... the complete salt of the earth, fine man he really was. The sort of man who deserved good fortune.

"He's not odd if he's betting on you," Lily replied in a very timid voice. She had not meant to sound so frightened. "That makes him clever."

But Callan noticed Lily's tone of voice immediately, and she saw the concern wash over him. She recognised this expression on him from when he had discovered Sir Richard accosting her. She saw that his protective instincts had been triggered.

"What's the matter?" he demanded to know. "What's wrong?"

"I ..." I need to resign. "I ..." Say it, Lily. "I am ... tired ... after yesterday." It wasn't a lie. Lily was exhausted. But she was also a wicked coward, and she was well on the way to loathing herself for this entire experiment.

Callan seemed to wait a moment before he accepted her response, but she could still see that he was a little wary of her state. Nevertheless, he then fished his hand into the pocket of his coat and brought out an item that immediately caught the sun and shone. Whatever it was, he held it in his pam, before he opened his hand before her.

They were still stood so close to one another, that the small, delicate item was suddenly right in Lily's eyeline. It was a necklace. A silver cross necklace, though Lily recognised that the cross was not one that she was typically familiar with.

The chain itself was dainty and appeared as though it had been recently polished. The cross incredibly intricate. It was embellished with tiny twists of metal that almost looked like vines climbing up a trellis. Surrounding the cross was an equally ornate circle. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and Lily was quite speechless.

"For your birthday. A bit of Ireland for you. It's a Celtic cross. You don't have to wear it if you hate it. I imagine you probably have nicer jewellery. I didn't buy this. I don't know it's value. It's my mother's. She gave it to me before I left Ireland for luck. I didn't know what to give you for your birthday but seeing as you brought me some very good luck, I thought you might like it. If you hate it, you can tell me."

Callan was rambling, and rather nervously at that. It was almost as though he was trying to talk Lily out of finding his gesture meaningful. But the sincerity at the meaning behind Callan's gift was not at all lost on Lily. And she felt more wretched than ever before. How could that be possible? Callan was gifting her something that belonged to his mother. He was giving something so precious to a woman who was lying to him.