No Longer Alone

Lily Let’s be honest here: Lily has very little experience with children and has no desire to ever be a mother. As a servant, she might have gotten away with one of them, but it wasn’t likely to be both. She grew up with her Lady, who was the youngest of the Lord’s children. She wasn’t a nursemaid, she was a companion, and as a result, her life was not her own. She didn’t have any male-female relationships. There was only her Lady’s needs. Lily’s didn’t matter. As an entertainer, well, let’s just say she did exactly what she wanted to, satisfied her needs, was very careful with certain activities and took her precautions seriously. That never made her any less awkward around children. What she does recognize is the furtive movement of fear, that clutching, clenching indication that all is not well within the other. So instead of crouching, the redhead decides it might be safer to sit down. She slides to her butt and cross her legs in front of her, hands in full view, like Hazel is some kind of wild thing, and she has to make herself as non-threatening as possible. “Please,” she says again. “I promise I’m just lost.” Like some stupid Outlander would be, Lily thinks to herself derisively, though her face shows nothing more than a calm, patient half-smile and gentle eyes. women are like tricks by sleight of hand which, to admire, we should not understand