The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll)

by Wheeler, Kae Elle

  Kendra laughed. “So you and your father stand in line before Seth for the title. Best watch your back, my lord. It appears your young cousin could steal it all away.” She was teasing him, her tone infectious.

  Unfortunately, her words struck a very strong chord, one that hadn’t occurred to him.

  “Indeed, I shall watch for the knife at my back, my lady,” he returned. He snapped the reins, sudden urgency nipping at his heels.

  Darkness was complete by the time Joseph maneuvered the horses to a halt before The Major Valiant, and with little trouble due to the late hour. Though he’d strongly suggested Kendra ride inside, she refused. Her cheek warmed his upper arm. The intimacy of the situation drew a smile, and he kissed the top of her head.

  “Time to rise, ma chère.” He gave her a gentle shake and helped her down. “Come.”

  Inside, he found the proprietors of The Major Valiant charming and welcoming. “Viscount and Lady Lawrie? We have been expecting you, my lord.” Mr. Valiant, for whom the inn had obviously been named, stood at attention, back ramrod straight. He clicked his heels together, and Joseph half feared the man would salute him. “A letter for you, my lord.”

  Beside him, Joseph thought Kendra stifled a laugh behind a short cough. He accepted the missive, dread touching his spine. Without pause, Mr. Valiant led them to a grand suite that included its own separate sitting room. Mon Dieu, his father wasted no time spending the new daughter-in-law’s money.

  A large four-poster bed, fit for the king, required the wooden steps beside it to gain access. A heavy canopy of velvet drapes in deep blue offered privacy—a welcome luxury, should one desire it. And, Joseph did. The prospect of waking up to that doll watching him, even one more day…

  A large wardrobe stood in the corner, and two comfortable chairs faced the hearth, where a well-developed fire blazed. He crossed the room to the sitting room and glanced in. “If you would be so kind as to send up water, sir, we would be grateful.”

  Mr. Valiant clicked his heels and brought his hand up but lowered it quickly. Kendra’s lips twitched, but she refrained from comment…or laughter. Once Mr. Valiant quit the chamber, Joseph tore open the note.

  Son,

  My felicitations on your recent, brilliantly timed, nuptials. I’ve yet to hear from the Earl of Macclesfield but am hopeful of his positive response by way of a large cheque. (A bit of humor, my son.)

  I should warn you, Seth made his appearance a few days past. A ghastly fellow. My brother Simon would have been most disappointed to learn his only offspring is a ne’er-do-well, God rest his soul.

  I hesitate to mention this, son, but I fear for my health and the condition in which my elder brother left these estates. My spells of discomfort grow more frequent with each passing day. Seth’s presence, as you know, is more hindrance than help. Our only hope remains in the hands of your bride’s family.

  Enjoy your stay at The Major Valiant with my good friend and ex-comrade, Jones Valiant. He shall see to your comfort. Take a few days to enjoy your new bride before hurrying home.

  Yours with affection,

  Yarmouth

  “Hell.”

  “My lord, is something amiss?”

  Joseph grimaced. He looked into Kendra’s wide blue eyes filled with concern. The moment had come. She might as well know the truth of it. He held out the letter. “Read for yourself.” He said it more harshly than he’d intended.

  She flinched. Alarm crossed her features. She eyed the note as if it were a cobra about to strike. Slowly, she reached for the inexpensive vellum, expression guarded.

  He could hardly blame her. A statement that read “Recent, brilliantly timed, nuptials” definitely conveyed a negative connotation. It spelled less than honorable intentions—even when the shift in his wicked heart gave way to a spark of hope. Sometime in the past few days he’d begun to care—care deeply, for his idealistic wife.

  Secrets and all.

  ****

  Kendra accepted Joseph’s letter terrified it would combust between her dishonest fingers. She donned the mask of intellect she’d perfected over the years, and moved to a chair before the hearth. The heat from the blaze warmed her cold hands.

  The most important rule in this game she played was to convey aptitude. A hard lesson learned in the strict confines of society. She smoothed the note out on her lap and tried valiantly to remember words of Mr. Thomas’s counsel. What she saw in her mind, however, were kind eyes, gentle and understanding. She shook her head and tried to concentrate, but nerves made the letters on the page shift.

  Kendra inhaled a steady breath, aware of Joseph’s heavy presence hovering. Only a couple of words stood out—son and of. How long would it take a person of normal intellect to read a letter consisting of half a page? She ran an index finger down the missive, pausing at each sentence. She did it three times, before deciding even a slow reader would have had time to complete the task.

  When she finally looked up, Joseph wasn’t looking at her. He stood at the window, gazing out at the night sky. Relief filled her. She could get through this.

  Kendra took another deep breath and bolstered courage for the role of her lifetime. “Your father loves you very much,” she said softly. She watched him closely.

  “Oui.” He was silent for a time, before his shoulders heaved with some internal struggle. He turned from the window, though he made no move toward her, and narrowed his eyes. “His congratulations on our marriage did not bother you?”

  Kendra digested this bit of information. He’d obviously mentioned the necessity of peer alignments. She prayed luck would see her through. “You said yourself, people of our station marry for reasons other than love,” she said coolly. “I would be a fool to think a man of your father’s era would believe any differently.” She held her breath.

  Confusion touched his brow, then cleared. “He did recommend enjoying my new bride before hurrying home.” Apprehension quickly followed. “I fear we shan’t be able to tarry as he suggested. I’m concerned for…his health.”

  A hard, confident knock pounded the door, startling her. Him too, it seemed.

  Joseph strode past and whisked it open.

  “You requested water, my lord?”

  The air escaped Kendra’s body, leaving her lightheaded. She was still safe…for the moment.

  Chapter Twelve

  The sitting room was just as luxurious as the bedchamber, Kendra thought. Perched on the settee, she toweled her hair dry. She would be thrilled to have the services of a maid once again. Louisa. Guilt assaulted her. The fact that until now she’d not once thought of Louisa since her own timely escape did not seem honorable. An escape, she thought, disgusted. More like a circumvention, and not of their own doing.

  Kendra paused. Lady Esmeralda’s gift rested, smiling, in the chair across. Her necklace was missing a few coins, but other than that, she’d suffered little. “You’ve been an enormous comfort,” Kendra told her.

  The large painted gaze stared back, unblinking, touched with amusement.

  “I’m in love with him,” she whispered. How silly she’d been. Her feelings for Alessandro had been those of a child in love with the idea of being in love. Now she knew differently. “But I worry ’tis not enough.”

  A light breeze stirred lace curtains. Kendra glanced to the window, then back. The doll’s expression never wavered, just stared back, a small lilt lighting her carved lips. Kendra blinked, certain it was a trick of the candle’s flickering flame.

  She finished her ablutions, and with shoulders squared, prepared to meet fate at the hands of her handsome husband. Strong hands that made her shiver with desire. She hurried through the door.

  He lay sprawled on his back, hand on his bare chest, soundly asleep.

  ****

  Their destination sprawled before them in rough-hewn splendor, crumbling mortar, and overgrown gardens. Joseph barely registered the passing landscape of his family holdings, so aggravated he was with himself.


  “Perhaps you have not recovered as well as we previously believed,” Kendra said helplessly.

  “I am perfectly fine,” he growled. Desperation for her ate through his reserve. Yet he’d fallen asleep, wasted his one opportunity to make love to his wife before the urgency to reach home took precedence. Lingering at Major Valiant’s that morning had not been an option, most especially in light of the late hour in which he’d awakened. Not after Papa’s confession to an increasing number of spells and Seth’s impromptu arrival. Nothing good ever came about when his younger cousin was in the vicinity.

  Kendra’s unintended quip the prior day gnawed at him like an aching tooth. Just consider poor Uncle Rupert’s tumble down the stairway to death.

  Granted, no one had seen Seth that day, but his presence beforehand had been well documented. Joseph shouldn’t have believed his own cousin capable of murder, but every murderer was, indeed, related to someone in the world, wasn’t he?

  Kendra’s unabashed amusement, which she tried but failed to hide, did little to assuage his dignity. “Joseph,” she sighed. “You simply must get over the fact that you fell asleep. The day was long, and one would find it perfectly understandable to have been overcome with fatigue.”

  Overcome with fatigue? Fatigue was the last thing he’d expected to have been overcome with. An exasperated gurgle of mirth escaped.

  Such a matter-of-fact pronouncement regarding an act of which she knew virtually nothing forced him to stop the carriage. He turned to this English lily who gazed up at him, brows furrowed in such seriousness.

  Something intense flared through his amusement. Something he refused to acknowledge. Her cheeks pinked and lips parted, and his breath hitched. ’Twas all the invitation required, any hope of will dissolved. He covered her mouth with his.

  She met his fire with a potency that threatened what little restraint he still managed to adhere to, however fragile. Hand cupped at her nape, he drank in her ardor with each stroke of his tongue. Soon, he promised silently. Soon.

  He broke away, appalled by his rapid breath, at the same time elated. She knew her money was needed, that his father had contacted hers. She had read the note, and all would be well. He slipped his hand from her nape to her cheek. She was so lovely.

  Kendra blinked, eyes uncertain.

  Joseph brushed his lips over hers once more before dropping his hand and snapping the reins. “You may wish to repair your hair.” He smiled, confidence restored. “Your new home,” he indicated with an open palm.

  “Oh, my.”

  ****

  Kendra’s gaze followed Joseph’s outstretched hand. A massive gray-stone structure that seemed to reach the heavens stood before her. The gardener should be let go in view of the grounds’ poor conditions. She would never say so aloud, however. At least, not right away.

  Beside her, she sensed Joseph’s held breath, awaiting acceptance of his childhood home. Despite bits of deteriorated portions, its proud display impressed her. She cleared her throat with a delicate cough. “It’s lovely,” she said.

  Tension fled his body. “Oui,” he agreed softly. “A bit worse for wear, I fear, but—oui.”

  Ivy clung over parts of the outer walls, hiding what she feared was more devastation. Still, with proper masonry, restoration was possible. It finally dawned on her.

  Money. He needed funds. It stung a little. But most marriages were contracted due to that very reason. She looked at her husband. He may not love her, but evidenced by his reaction to kissing her, he must have some regard for her person. Many matches started with much less. She exhaled slowly. It was something to build on.

  Kendra knew, without an ounce of doubt, she loved him. The thought of disappointing him sickened her.

  She looked back at the faded structure. Along a flattened rooftop was a notched wall: a lookout post complete with an indented battlement. Rows of windows reached as high vertically as horizontally. “ ’Tis a bit like a medieval castle, on a smaller scale, of course.” Excitement coursed through her. ’Twould be much fun to explore.

  “It is.” He grinned.

  “I’m an heiress, you know,” she said softly.

  Her peripheral vision showed his lips firming into a grimace. The sight lightened her heart.

  The door burst open, and several servants rushed forth.

  “Lord Joseph, it’s wonderful to have you home.” A stately thin gentleman bowed from the waist. His shiny bald head, reflecting the sun, made it impossible to determine his age.

  “Holmes, ma chère, our longtime butler.”

  “Lady Lawrie,” he said. His grave tone defied the twinkle in his eye.

  “Holmes,” she said, accepting his assistance down.

  “How is Papa?”

  An abrupt heaviness descended. “Not well, I fear. ’Tis good you’re back.”

  “My lord!” A matronly woman rushed forward, pulling Joseph into a brusque hug. Her robust body shook with emotion.

  “Mademoiselle.” Joseph returned her hug fervently.

  Dark red flushed her cheeks.

  Most definitely not a mademoiselle, Kendra thought, observing the reunion with a little envy.

  “Martha, meet my wife.” Joseph reached and took Kendra’s hand.

  Heat flooded her own cheeks when she realized she’d forgotten her gloves. But Martha never glanced at her hands, simply engulfing Kendra in an overbearing motherly embrace, the like of which Kendra couldn’t recall. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.

  “Martha, see my wife to her new quarters, s’il vous plaît,” Joseph commanded. “I wish to see Papa.”

  Joseph strode away and Kendra turned a tentative smile to Martha. “He is most anxious,” she said.

  Martha scowled. “It’s that cousin of his, invaded. Evil. Positively evil.” Martha snapped her fingers to a waiting footman. “Don’t dawdle, Bicks. Get her ladyship’s bags.”

  Kendra started. She hadn’t even seen the young Bicks. He was tall, with laughing green eyes. She guessed his age close to hers.

  “We’ll get you settled. You can rest. Dinner is at eight…” She listened halfheartedly as Martha swept her into the hall and up the centerpiece of a grand arching staircase, accompanied by a flow of chatter.

  Lovingly cared for, the mansion nevertheless, to Kendra’s discerning eye, showed the lack of blunt needed for its upkeep. The cost must be tremendous. Some of the walls were conspicuously bare, as if large paintings had been removed.

  Martha did not comment on the state of things, just marched forward like a general into battle. Passing several doors, she finally stopped at the end of the hall and pushed the last one open into a magnificent suite. Green, cream, and soft gold were highlighted by sunlight streaming through lace window coverings.

  “Here you are, my lady. I’ll send Wilhelmina up with your bag shortly.” Martha backed out of the room, pulling the door to with a click.

  Kendra walked over to the large bed and ran her hand over the faded coverlet. It was soft, worn, and beautiful. She did the same to the chair facing the hearth. Its tattered fabric was patched in several places. She smiled. She loved it.

  A closed door Kendra supposed led to Joseph’s adjoining suite was near the window. She wrinkled her nose, irritated. ’Twas the life of the aristocracy, she knew well, but she didn’t have to like it. She had gotten quite used to him next to her the last two nights. Lord, had it only been two nights?

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Without waiting on a call for permission, a young woman swept in. She was lovely, with curly dark hair and a mischievous grin. She set Kendra’s valise aside and dipped a short curtsey. “Good afternoon, my lady. I’m Willow, your lady’s maid.”

  “Oh.” Kendra paused. “Willow?”

  “Well, it’s officially Wilhelmina, but I much prefer Willow. If you don’t mind, my lady.” Her smile was so infectious, Kendra found herself responding to it without hesitation.

  “Of course not. Willow it is. I’m Lady Lawrie. Lady Kendra will do,
however.”

  “ ’Tis pleasing to meet you, Lady Kendra.” She picked up the valise and took it to the wardrobe. “My, what have we here?” She lifted the gypsy doll from Kendra’s case with care.

  Kendra smiled and answered softly. “ ’Twas a gift from Princess Cinderella’s sister, Lady Esmeralda.”

  “She’s lovely…what is this?” Willow tugged the note from its front pocket and unfolded it. “May I?”

  “D-do you r-read, Willow?” Kendra felt faint.

  Willow, thankfully, seemed unaware of Kendra’s discomfort. “Some,” she responded. “ ’Tis an interesting message. ‘Anyone disloyal or who tries to harm you shall suffer. Only true love shall break this curse.’ My,” she said again. Then that mischievous grin lit her face. “Does it work?”

  Startled, Kendra thought about the musket ball that had sailed by her, felling Mr. Thomas. Joseph’s proposal and kiss as the pirates stormed her quarters aboard ship. Their unworldly transport to Gretna. “In some ways, I suppose it has,” she acknowledged slowly.

  “Lord Lawrie must truly be in love. He’s made it home.” Willow set the doll on the bed and began shaking out Kendra’s clothes to hang. “Is this all you have, Lady Kendra?”

  Was it true? Could Joseph have fallen in love with her? He hadn’t seemed to suffer overly much. Well, except for the bout of illness in Northallerton and the sudden onslaught of fatigue in Leeds…

  Dear Lord. She sank down in the faded chair. He wasn’t! The doll must be preventing… No. It was too fantastic. A doll couldn’t possibly save a married woman’s virtue. Could it? It was clear his family was in need of her inheritance.

  But their marriage hadn’t been consummated. She didn’t begin to believe he hadn’t intended to. His kisses were too potent, his passion too fierce. But Joseph hadn’t harmed her. Disloyal? True love?

  “Lady Kendra? Are you unwell?”

  Startled, Kendra glanced up. Willow stood before her, concern written across her pert features. “I feel the need to speak with my husband. You would not happen to know where I might find him?”