Finding Lady Enderly

by Joanna Davidson Politano

  “Appearances can be changed on a whim.” He frowned. “The truth is, he’s perfect for the position, and he’s here. I know you don’t involve yourself in the details of your country estate, but you must know how hard it is to convince reliable help to come away from town of late, and he’s willing.”

  “Thank you kindly for the offer, sir, but I believe I’ll be on me way.” Sully spoke from the doorway, his gaze narrowed on me. “I have a rule, see. I never go where I’m not wanted.” The blue hat slipped from his hand, and my heart dropped with it, down into a shattered mess on the floor. I retrieved the cap by instinct.

  Sully spun on his heel, but desperation propelled me forward, hand outstretched to offer the hat. “Wait.” Please take it. Please. If he walked out the door, heart broken by me, he’d be on the first train to someplace I’d never find him. I knew Sullivan McKenna, and he did everything in absolutes.

  All three of them turned to me, Sully poised in the shadows of the doorway with hurt darkening his features. How dangerous it would be to have him so close, yet when it came down to it, the notion of him leaving again, possibly disappearing for good, nearly suffocated me.

  My impetuous side overruled, as often happened. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. One can always change clothing, after all.”

  “It does make quite a difference, doesn’t it?” Sully eyed me as he accepted the hat but did not return it to his head. “Without them fine things you’d be just like me, wouldn’t you? And that would be a pity.”

  Silence thickened in the room and his quiet words tensed the muscles along my back. The vague guilt I’d felt at my questionable decisions solidified into heavy shame. We stared at one another, our gazes locked, an ocean of tension between us. I remained stoic by sheer force of will, swallowing the lump bobbing in my throat.

  A few popping claps from Philip Scatchard broke the tension. “Well done, my man. I insist on you staying now. I need someone besides myself who will speak this way to my dear cousin, and none of the other servants have the gumption. Or the foolishness, perhaps.”

  “It’s never foolish to say what’s true.”

  Cousin Philip’s eyes sparkled. “I do believe you’ll get on well here.”

  As dinner unfolded that evening, I was reminded of how easily I could ruin everything. A long table separated me from this cousin so full of mysterious hatred for me, and a large silver vase with red poppies stood between us, but he lifted his condemning gaze to me when I eagerly accepted a little bowl of plum pudding.

  “I’d heard you couldn’t tolerate the stuff.”

  Without hesitation, I released a gracious smile across my face. “I simply will not let you best me, even in so small a matter. You see? I am aware of your schemes, Cousin Philip, and I’ve set my mind to thwarting them. You’ll have to try harder to upset me.” I dipped my spoon into the delectable pudding and nibbled its creamy deliciousness. I grimaced as the plum flavor tickled my senses, pretending to merely tolerate the delicious treat. Cousin Philip frowned.

  Sully and the first footman brought us platters and bowls of steaming food. How quickly he’d been adopted into his new position. Every time Sully neared, I looked away to control the quick bloom of fear. When did he plan to say something? The moment must be coming. Through the entire dinner, however, he spoke not a word to either of us. I felt his gaze upon me, but he said nothing to give me away.

  I had slipped into cautious relief when I lifted a water glass from Sully’s tray and spotted a tiny scrap of paper beneath it with that familiar handwriting staring up at me. I clamped the note to the base of my cup with a trembling finger as I accepted the drink and kept it planted there. Though my throat burned, I refused to take even a single drink under the cousin’s watchful gaze.

  When Cousin Philip turned to speak to a footman, I slipped the paper into my lap and looked at the single word written there. Although it wasn’t a word at all. JA:MP 386, it said. My heart fluttered—it was a childhood game of ours, a treasure hunt through literature as he taught me to read. The JA would be Jane Austen, and MP must be Mansfield Park. I quickly covered the paper again and returned to my food.

  With every quiet moment that passed, my muscles loosened. I watched Sully through the fringe of my lashes as he piled Philip’s dishes onto a tray. He glanced at me as he turned to leave the room, and for that frozen moment I was aware only of my thudding pulse and the dryness of my throat. I exhaled when the door closed behind him, tension melting from my shoulders.

  After the meal, which had unsettled my stomach with its richness, I made an excuse to visit the abbey’s new library, a fresh and modern room so different than the ruin I’d seen that first night. I pulled down Mansfield Park, flipping to page 386 with eager fingers. A single line had been underlined in pencil: “I was quiet, but I was not blind.”

  My fingers trembled under the book’s cover. I gulped in vain several times, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat. Closing the volume and replacing it on the shelf, I wandered the halls to steady my nerves. I had to find him before everything erupted and figure out what to do.

  As the bold, red sun descended toward the horizon that night, I smoothed my thumb over the familiar surface of my Connemara stone I had plucked from the still-warm ashes beside the abbey. Everything else I owned had been consumed by flames, yet this rock remained, ever present, ever the same.

  Much like the man who’d given it to me.

  I lifted my gaze toward the barn as I approached and listened to Sully’s music. The lively melody blended with the snap of an open fire and the stomp of his listeners’ boots. I had to steel myself against clapping and spinning about with the vivacious fiddle music that wafted through the cloud of dread around my mind. Slipping across the yard when a smattering of applause sounded, I flattened myself against the side of the barn with pursed lips and listened to the voice that was so familiar to my heart as he began the next song.

  “Nigh on fifteen years ago

  a lass so hapn’d on me.

  Not so much upon my path

  But on my heart, where she

  Left her mark, but did depart,

  Gone far away from me.

  “I cannot blame her,

  For I’m no tamer,

  Having left her for the sea.”

  Laughter and clapping popped against my fragile senses as I closed my eyes to absorb his version of our story. As the notes lengthened into the somber music that always held me captive, I sank into the bliss of the moment, forgetting what I must do and who I must be, and all the worries that came with it. My breath evened and my pounding heart slowed as a lyrical ballad wrapped itself around me and soothed my tension. Then when my mind had settled into a pleasant trance, the music stopped.

  Sully’s voice broke through the night. “Beg pardon, but I believe someone’s calling for me.”

  His footsteps swished through the grass, and I panicked, nails digging into the paint on the stable wall. He must have seen me. Hoisting up the hem of my gown, I sprinted for the cover of shadows ahead, hoping I wouldn’t suddenly find myself stepping off into a small pond. Slower footsteps clicked on the patio pavement in the distance and a door shut—Prendergast?

  I hurtled through the dark toward an amply lit garden and dove behind a hedge. I tucked myself into the little shrub alcove and hugged my knees to my chest, my back to a stone garden wall. Hand to my pounding heart, I waited until footsteps thudded against the path. Then he was there, whispering my name on the other side of the wall.

  “Raina.” Footsteps shuffled closer. “Show yourself, Raina Bretton. I’d recognize that panicked sprint anywhere. Heav’n knows I’ve seen it enough times in me life.”

  I leaned hard against the chilly garden wall, imagining what would become of us if Mr. Prendergast discovered us this minute. Someone besides Sully was out here, likely looking for me. “Stay where you are. We cannot let anyone see us talking.” This man to whom I’d once told my every secret had suddenly become my biggest one.


  Then came those familiar little puffs of breath that meant a lecture was forming.

  “Before you speak, just know there’s a reason for all of this.”

  “There always is. Don’t mean it’s a good one, though.”

  “Sully, what happened to you? How are you . . . alive?”

  “I was born that way, wasn’t I? Now stop putting me off. It’s time for answers, Raina. Why are you doing this?”

  “No, you answer.” My words fired out in an angry whisper. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me for months?”

  “All I know is I left a wonderful lass behind in Spitalfields with a promise to return, and I’ve no idea what happened to her.”

  “She left.” I clasped the little stone in my palm. “Her last reason to stay was drowned on a ship in the Great Gale.” I took a shaky breath. “Yet you’re alive. How are you alive?”

  “I was never drowned. Where’d you come by a fool notion like that?”

  “Oh, just the death notice that appeared in the Penny Newsman. Three ships sank, including the Maiden Faire, and all hands were lost, it said, in black and white.”

  “Well, I wasn’t on it. I haven’t been on the Maiden in months. They must’ve forgotten to take me off the ship log.”

  “Forgotten.” I closed my eyes, my breath coming hard and fast. It had been a mistake. A senseless, unpardonable, cruel mistake. A clerical error that had shattered my heart and left the pieces scattered among the rubble of Spitalfields. The enormity of everything settled on my chest like a rock, forcing all air from my lungs and thoughts from my brain.

  “Stop changing the subject. You always do that.” He jerked against the bushes. “Tell me what in heaven’s name is going on.”

  I cleared the fear coating my throat and forced out a quick explanation. “It’s a ruse. I’m to pretend to be this woman who looks exactly like me. That’s all. They want me to attend social events as the Countess of Enderly and go about her estate as its mistress for a time to give the real one a small break.”

  “Break?” He snorted, cutting me off before I could tell him I was thinking of leaving. “None of the rest of us sees a break from life, and I can guarantee there are a thousand men on the docks who work harder than she does. Of all the foolish—”

  “It’s hardly foolish to help those in need.” I couldn’t keep the snap from my voice. “No matter how I do it.”

  He grumbled in his usual way, kicking at a bush. “If only God saw fit to give both beauty and sense to the same woman.” He sighed again. “Do you really believe you’re helping this woman? There’s something more to this cockamamy scheme, and I think you know it.”

  Before I could correct him on who I meant to help, distant footsteps crunched on gravel.

  “You don’t have to help me.” The sharp words smarted on my lips.

  He shifted, the darkness thick with unspoken thoughts. “You know me better than that.”

  His words smothered my exasperation like a gentle blanket, and I squeezed the stone I’d rescued from the ashes. “A glutton for punishment, are you?”

  “I must be, to follow after you all the time.” He heaved a sigh. “Only you would drag me to such a creepy, broken-down . . .”

  “You’ve not seen my suite of rooms. A canopy bed, soft carpet, and at least thirty mirrors in the dressing room. I’ve never seen the like.”

  “What does a woman need with thirty mirrors? You’ve only got one face, haven’t you?”

  I pinched back a smile and closed my eyes as his simple words rolled over my heart. Sully, dear Sully. The same as ever.

  And he was here. For me.

  “I missed you something terrible.” I breathed the words past the lump in my throat and rose, threading my hand through the shrub.

  “I missed you worse.” His warm one grasped it on the other side. “Come away with me. Right now. You know this isn’t right if you have to go about it this way.”

  My heart thudded as his words echoed my own convictions. Yet my upper arm still ached from where Prendergast had grasped me. “I’m not sure I can simply leave.”

  “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Afraid to leave. Even more reason—Raina, we must escape while we still can. Let me help. We can get out together.”

  “He promised to take me home if I stayed the day. Look, the day is over and he’ll have to return me soon.”

  “Do you truly trust the man? Do you?”

  I couldn’t answer.

  “He’ll only make it harder to escape with every hour you spend here. You must come with me.”

  “He’ll come right back to Spitalfields looking for me. It’s where he found me to start.”

  “We’re not going back there.” He paused. “I’ve got to find someplace new anyway.”

  Dread tightened my chest. “Oh Sully. It’s true, isn’t it? They said you were suspected of mutiny before the ship went down, but I thought it merely a rumor. Tell me it was a mistake.”

  He shifted against the shrub. Exhaled. His voice softened for a brief moment. “No mistake.”

  And those two words told the entire story, because my heart that had loved Sully for years could fill in the rest. He was a rescuer, both for me and anyone not able to help themselves. “Was the captain that wretched, then?”

  “A tyrant. He threw sailors overboard at the least sign of disrespect—young lads who’d barely begun their lives were cast out like rubbish. I couldn’t stand for it. I rallied the men together.”

  An uprising against the authority, a rallying of the abused men, led by him yet spiraling out of his control, and ending in . . . I lowered my voice. “Did someone die?” I held my breath as I waited for the reply.

  “Two sailors and the captain’s brother. Not by my hand.”

  Yet he would be blamed for them if he’d rallied the men who had ultimately done it. I shuddered. At times our greatest strengths become the rocks that trip us up.

  “Raina . . .” His voice was soft, pleading for me to understand.

  And I did. I always did, because it was Sully. He couldn’t not be the rescuer, and I loved him for it. “It seems we’ll both be in hiding. Might as well do it together.”

  He let out a gusty breath of relief. “We’ll go tonight.”

  “I’m to meet with Prendergast in a few minutes. I should keep the appointment, then we can escape without anyone missing us for several hours at least.”

  “I suppose. All right, I’ll go fetch my things. Meet me at the end of the lane in an hour.” With one last exhale, he sprinted away, gravel popping under his boots. In his absence the air chilled considerably.

  The chorus of night critters swelled, and I lifted the Connemara stone up to the light cast down from the great house. He’d given it to me the first time his father, the Spitalfields parish vicar, had chased me away and declared me unfit to associate with his son.

  I couldn’t have been more than ten years old at the time, but I felt that moment keenly even now. Unwilling to cause my new friend trouble, I gave up Sully and his delightful reading lessons. Yet Sully, my dear tenderhearted Sully, had found me and pressed this stone into my palm, vowing to continue our lessons. “It’s Connemara marble from Ireland, solid and meant to handle anything you put it through. You see, it isn’t going anywhere. Just like me.” His fingers had folded mine around that smoothed marble oval, and he sealed his promise with a warm smile. I held it every time I needed to recall the solidness of his friendship, for precious little in my life had been stable. “Every adventurer needs a rescuer, and I plan to be yours.” I closed my eyes and pictured his face, listening to the gentle noises of nighttime in the countryside.

  After a safe amount of time had passed, I tucked the little stone into my sash and rose. I would leave as many of the countess’s things behind as possible so I could not be accused of stealing, yet I hadn’t even my own clothing left to me. I stepped forward, using only the light shining down from the house. I would have to fashion something—

 
My foot caught. I flailed, tumbling forward in the dark and landing beside a pair of gentleman’s shoes.

  Mercy gracious, the end has come.

  “Falling at my feet now, are we?” The deep voice of Victor Prendergast rolled through the empty garden. “I’m flattered.”

  I struggled to stand and glared up into his face. I would not let him make me afraid. “It’s a wonder your head fits through doorways.”

  He chuckled and tipped his head to study me with amusement. “I will so delight in having you about the abbey for a time. It won’t be so bad, you know.”

  I stiffened, weighing my options. “I must bid you good evening, sir.” Mustering false confidence, I gave him a nod and brushed past with two long strides.

  “You do love him, don’t you?”

  I froze on the path, my heart wilting down to my toes. He had seen us.

  “Don’t look that way, love.” He approached from behind and traced the line of my shawl-covered shoulder as if he touched my bare skin. “This is a fortuitous turn of events for you, I promise. Your beau happens to be in a spot of trouble with the law, and I happen to be a first-rate solicitor.”

  I turned to look at his grinning face with loathing. “We don’t want your sort of help.”

  “Oh but you do, my lady. You may not wish for a cunning and somewhat underhanded ally, but you most certainly don’t want that type of adversary, either. Believe me, I’m the worst sort to have. And I have the tendency to get my way.”

  I hugged my wrap to myself. Then I felt the Connemara marble in my sash. “Find yourself another rag woman to lie for you.” Bowing my head and striding away, I was stopped short as Prendergast stepped firmly in front of me, his face coming near mine.

  “I warned you not to make an enemy of me, Countess. It won’t end well for you.”

  I tensed under his wicked gaze and looked toward the stables where Sully had disappeared.