Dangerous Recollections

Chapter Three

Lyra stood in the kitchen peeling honey crisps for the cinnamon-apple pie after dinner. She focused on the shining red skins as they revealed a gleaming white core. The knife slid with ease, like butter. She jumped when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and a face buried itself in the crook of her neck. Giggling, she leaned back, immediately recognizing the embrace.

"William," She sighed, and he slid next to her and grabbed a freshly peeled apple. He was about to take a bite when she snatched it from his lips. "Hey, those are for dessert."

He grinned at her, "Oh come now. You know I don't like the skin on my apples."

"And you know where the knives are to peel an apple yourself then," She quipped with a sniff and continued her task. He chuckled before rolling up his sleeves and grabbing an apple and knife, peeling some himself. She smiled up at Will as he began to help her with her chore. A few maids entered the room to grab some baskets. They eyed Lyra and William oddly before continuing with their business.

"You shouldn't be helping, you know." She stated plainly, "Servants talk, and it'll get back to your father."

Will rolled his eyes, "What will he do? He has nothing over me."

"He'll give me demanding chores," She muttered as they thought of one grueling time in particular.

Almost four years ago Will's father had received word that his son had spent an inappropriate amount of time with a particular servant. To prove a point, he had sent Lyra to accompany Felicity and Georgie on a trip to their distant family. When she returned three weeks later, her chores were physically demanding. It left her exhausted, sleeping as soon as her head touched the pillow. Her hands had been so blistered and scarred that William had nearly wept as he wrapped them.

Eventually his father eased off and the pair decided to get more creative and sneaky.

"My father is getting old," Will said. "And with Maverick refusing the Dukedom he won't risk angering me."

"You'll risk it anyway?" Lyra looked up at him. Her eyes were wide as she waited for his response.

"There's nothing to risk," He grabbed her hand softly, squeezing it gently and staring into her eyes intently. "Lyra I would never let anything happen to you. I was young then; I didn't understand the power I hold in this house as the heir of Martine."

Lyra's gaze softened slightly and she smiled at him, almost sadly. She finished slicing the apples in silence, thoughts weighing on her shoulder.

"I can hear your thinking from here. What is on your mind?" Will asked and set his utensils down. He grabbed the knife from her hand to force her attention upon him. "Do you trust me Lyra? Do you trust my love for you? What can I do to ease your torment?"

Lyra knew there was nothing that could be done. They were forever to be stuck in this limbo, this endless torment. He vowed to abdicate the throne. He promised to give everything up for her, land and titles.

She knew he would too.

She would never let him. She knew the life of the impoverished. She knew he could handle this life too. She also knew that he would never subjugate her to such a miserable existence and so how could she do so to him? He was her life, her love. He was her very reason for breath. She could not allow him to voluntarily become a social pariah, to live in exile, in ruin.

Lyra wiped her hands on her apron. She turned to Will fully and remained silent as he searched her face for the answer to their problems.

"Lyra?" He asked as he noticed the sudden shift in her demeanor.