Valor of Love (Scandalous Scions Book 2)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  The memories caught her there, as they found her anywhere. Lilly could feel them intrude upon her reading, snatching her breath and making her heart pump hard. Her head throbbed as the memories took her.

  That first moment, when she should have guessed what Blackawton intended. Being pulled into the carriage. The hand over her mouth and the muffled laughter as he tore her dress. The groping. His weight upon her, then the sharp pain….

  “Lilly!”

  She gasped, coming to herself with a jolt and a gasp.

  Thomsett was crouched in front of her, his hand on her wrist. His fingers tightened. “The memories are back, aren’t they?” he said softly.

  It always took a moment for the nausea to pass. She swallowed, forcing herself to speak. “I deserve them. All of them.”

  His brow furrowed, as if he was in pain, as he looked at her. “You are wrong,” he said, his voice low. He rose to his feet with a quick movement and stood there, his fists tight. Then he turned and walked away.

  The next day was one of the nicest she had experienced since arriving in Yorkshire. The sky was perfectly clear as she set out for her walk. Lilly climbed the first long, slow slope and paused at the brink, to look down at the valley below. It was lovely, in an untamed way that she had seen nowhere else in England. All at once, she wanted to share that view with someone.

  She turned to look at Thomsett where he stood twenty yards away, his hands in his pockets. “If you must keep me in sight, at least walk beside me so I do not feel like a sheep to your shepherd.”

  Thomsett’s jaw flexed. Silently, he walked up the slope to where she stood. His gaze met hers. “You know that is not what I am doing.”

  “It feels that way to me.” She turned and waved her hand toward the valley in front of them. “There. Is that not magnificent?”

  He looked. “It is merely the place where I played as a child.”

  “You do not like the moors?”

  “They are too wild to care if I like them or not,” he said, his voice low.

  “What view do you like, then?”

  “Me?” He seemed startled. Then his eyes narrowed and his gaze turned inward. “The sea,” he said at last. “The coast right here in Yorkshire. The cliffs that endure.”

  “Is the coast close?” she asked, startled.

  “Quite close. Barely three miles from the cottage, I should think.”

  “I had no idea. I would like to see this sea you like so much. Could we go there? Tomorrow?” Now she yearned to smell salt and hear the cry of gulls and waves.

  Thomsett didn’t answer at once.

  “Is it…dangerous?” she asked, her throat tightening.

  His gaze took in her fright. “It is a risk, but a small one. I think an outing to Staithes would put some color in your cheeks. Yes, tomorrow, we can walk to the sea.”

  She almost clapped her hands in joy. She could not wait for tomorrow. She turned back toward the cottage.

  “Are you not going to walk to the far dale, Lilly?” Thomsett asked.

  “Not today,” she told him. “I have things to do, if I am to be seen in public tomorrow.”

  “You look perfectly lovely already,” he murmured.

  Lilly nearly tripped. She wondered if Thomsett had intended for her to hear what he said. Then she decided that discretion would serve her best. She walked on, as if she had not heard at all.

  When they reached the turn about the outcrop of rocks that shielded the cottage from the strong easterly winds, she saw they had a visitor. A handsome carriage with its top down stood in the yard.

  “Who would visit us here?” she asked Thomsett, her chest tightening with worry.

  Thomsett’s fingers brushed her hand. “Stay here. I’ll find out,” he murmured and strode ahead. He walked around the carriage and stepped into the cottage, for she could see his head above the open carriage.

  Then he re-emerged and waved to her.

  Still puzzled but relieved, Lilly walked to where Thomsett stood waiting at the door.

  “It’s alright,” he told her. “Lord Dalehouse and his wife stopped by.”

  Startled, Lilly glanced inside. “Is there news?” she asked.

  Thomsett shook his head. “Lady Dalehouse just returned from London. I think you are about to be inspected. Brace yourself.”

  Lilly could see he was trying not to smile.

  “Thank you for the warning,” she told him, smoothing her hands over her hair and feeling for stray locks. She brushed at her skirt and moved inside.

  Baron Dalehouse was sitting at the table, a glass of wine in front of him, which surprised Lilly, for she had not known there was any wine or liquor in the house. He lifted his glass. “We brought you some supplies, Lady Lillian!” he said jovially.

  Baroness Dalehouse was sitting in the rocking chair. She got to her feet and gave a small bob. “Lady Lillian,” she said. She was much older than Dalehouse, slim and energetic and with the ruddy cheeks that every Yorkshire person Lillian had so far met seemed to share. Her hair had once been black but was now shot with gray. “I just arrived home yesterday,” she said. “I insisted we call to see if you are well founded and comfortable.”

  “I am most comfortable, thank you, Lady Dalehouse. Your husband has been generous.”

  “Indeed,” Dalehouse said with a snort and a gulp of the wine. “You’re fading away to nothing, Lady Lillian. What have you been doing to her, Thomsett? I thought the idea was to watch over her?”

  Thomsett’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  Lilly said quickly, “Have you been in London for the season, Lady Dalehouse?”

  “I have, for a short time. I do like the moors and London can feel enclosed after a while.”

  “I’m sure it can,” Lilly agreed. “The moors look lovely at this time of year, with all the heather blooming.”

  “I understand that you are the daughter of the late Earl of Innesford,” Rosemary, Lady Dalehouse said.

  “I am. I am also related by marriage to the Marquess of Marblethorpe.”

  “You come from a grand family, Lady Lillian,” Rosemary replied. She stirred and glanced about the cottage. “This must feel humble to you.”

  “I am content, here,” Lilly lied, for it was not their fault she could not sleep. “I will take away pleasant memories of my time here.”

  Rosemary’s smile warmed. “I am pleased to hear you say so.” She glanced around once more. “I will send some things over, that will add to your comfort.”

  “Thank you, but I am already quite comfortable.”

  “Nonsense. Come along, my dear,” she told her husband.

  Dalehouse got to his feet and gulped the last of the wine. “Enjoy the vittles!” he urged Lilly and hurried out after his wife. He helped her into the coach and climbed in after her.

  Lilly stood at the door and watched them leave. She heard a soft sound behind her and checked to see that it was Thomsett standing there as she suspected it would be. “Why do I feel as though my teeth and my hocks were just inspected?” she asked.

  “I believe you have reason to feel that way,” Thomsett said distantly, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

  Lilly moved around him and he stepped out of the way. “Where are you off to?” he asked curiously.

  “The sea. The village. Oh, Thomsett, you have no idea how much I look forward to tomorrow!” She hurried upstairs to sort through her trunk and decide what to wear.

  Chapter Eleven

  Staithes was no ordinary village. Staithes Beck was a river that emptied out into a natural harbor surrounded by high cliffs, forming a protected inlet. The cliffs ran back along the river, with a more gentle slope on the southern side. The village clung to the narrow land between the cliffs, hugging the edges of the river and climbing up the gentle slope.

  The road they had followed to the village plunged down from where they were standing, to skirt around the houses, before driving through the middle of them and out to the harbor itself. A small bridg
e crossed between the main section of the village and a narrow strip of houses on the other side of the river, all that could fit between the deep cliff-like northern river bank and the cliffs themselves.

  There were dozens of boats and fishing smacks at anchor in the river, for even though it was still morning, their day of fishing was already done.

  Lilly lifted her chin and breathed in the air. Salt. And above, gulls. She opened her eyes again and saw that Thomsett was smiling at her.

  “You are right,” she told him gravely. “In some ways, this is much better than the moors.”

  “There is an inn on the wharf. We can have lunch there.”

  They followed the curving road down to the village. It was the only way down. As they walked, several carts and carriages past them.

  “Is it market day?” Lilly asked.

  “It might be,” Thomsett said thoughtfully. “If it is, we cannot linger in the market itself. We must pass it by.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  Lilly smiled at him. “It is enough to be here, to see the sea and something other than rock walls.”

  “There are many rock walls in Staithes. I climbed them all as a child.”

  “This is where you grew up? Right here?”

  Thomsett came to a halt, looking over the village. Then he pointed. “That house there, the one on the side of the hill with the white walls and three dormer windows and two chimneys. The closest one is smoking…do you see it?”

  Lilly looked. She could see many houses with white walls. Most of the houses had white walls. She looked for one with three dormer windows and two chimneys. Then she saw it. “Thatched roof,” she breathed. It was a bigger house than those around it, yet not overly big. “That was your house?”

  “Until I was seventeen.”

  “Then you moved somewhere else?” she asked, for he had accepted his commission with the army when he was eighteen.

  “Then my mother died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry, Thomsett. I’m prying.”

  He shook his head. “It was a long time ago. Come along. I would prefer to dine sooner than later. Walking is hungry work.”

  They continued on into the village. Among the houses, there were many more people going about their business. The road widened into a small market square, where stalls and carts were selling their produce. Thomsett skirted the edges of the square. The road continued on the other side for only short way before it came to an abrupt end at the edge of the river.

  Stone walls dropped down to the water, twelve feet below.

  Lilly leaned over to look down at the dinghies and boats there. Nearly all of them had fishing nets spread over them to dry.

  “You should be thankful the tide is at mid-water,” Thomsett told her. “At low tide, the boats are beached and the smell is indescribable.”

  “It’s picturesque,” Lilly told him. “Smell and all.”

  “I’ll arrange to have you visit at low tide one day, then I will believe you when you say that.”

  “It is all quite charming,” Lilly insisted. “It is a long way from London, or even Cornwall.”

  Thomsett lifted his chin to indicate something behind her. “There is the inn. It has a good reputation and if we stay in the front public room, your reputation will survive the meal.”

  “Such as it is,” Lilly muttered.

  Thomsett frowned. “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” she assured him quickly. “Forgive me for my bleak outlook. You are being so kind and I am grateful, despite my behavior.”

  Thomsett waved toward the inn. “Shall we?”

  The inn was another white-washed building with flowerboxes at the windows and a sign over the door that announced it was the Stormy Inn. When Thomsett opened the door, the sound of loud merriment erupted.

  Lilly hesitated. The voices she could hear were all male and thick with liquor.

  Thomsett stepped inside, then came back to her. “They’re in the back room. I can ask the innkeeper to close the connecting door.”

  She took a deep breath to calm her jumpy nerves and stepped inside while Thomsett held the door open. The front room was empty of all but two gentlemen who were drinking quietly together. Through a door in the back wall, she could see a bar and hear men talking loudly the way they did when they were intoxicated.

  Her chest tightened.

  A roar of raucous laughter broke out and she jumped. The reach for safety was automatic.

  Thomsett looked down at her hands, gripping his arm.

  Lilly blushed and let him go. “I am so terribly sorry—”

  He picked up her hand. His fingers were warm against her skin as he curled her fingers over his arm once more. “Leave it there, if it helps,” he said gently.

  The innkeeper came out of the back room, wiping his hands on his apron. He saw Thomsett and came to a complete stop, his mouth dropping open. Then he hurried forward again, his hand outthrust to shake Thomsett’s. “Major Thomsett!” he said, shaking his hand. “Why, my goodness me! You’re back!”

  “Mister Thomsett, now,” Thomsett said. “Hello, Wilson.”

  Major Thomsett. Lilly looked up at Thomsett, reassessing him in light of the rank the innkeeper, Wilson, had just given him. A major? Officer commissions in the army started at the rank of Lieutenant. There were three degrees of Lieutenant, then Captain and then Major. Thomsett would have had to have been promoted four times to earn a Major’s stripes.

  Wilson gripped Thomsett’s other arm, his pleasure at seeing him making his eyes glow. Then he glanced at Lilly and smiled at her. “Your wife?” he asked.

  Lilly let go of Thomsett’s arm quickly.

  Thomsett shook his head. “My…” There he stopped.

  Lilly guessed what Thomsett was thinking. He would not pretend she was his wife, for her sake. He could not say who she was, either. Any other explanation would be easily spotted as a lie.

  Lilly drew herself upward. “Thomsett is the estate manager for the lands where I live,” she said, injecting as much haughtiness as she could manage into her voice. “He has spoken of the meals here at the inn many times. I came to see for myself if his boasts had any truth to them.”

  Wilson almost snapped to attention. “Let me show you to a table, my lady.” Lilly relaxed. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Wilson hovered as they sat down.

  “Does your wife still make that lamb pie with the gravy, Wilson?” Thomsett asked.

  “Fresh today, Major. I mean, Mister.” Wilson’s forehead gleamed as he extracted himself from one more faux pas. “Two servings, my lady?” he asked her.

  “Please.”

  He hurried away, looking relieved.

  Thomsett pressed his lips together. “Coming here was a mistake,” he said softly. “I find it difficult to lie to these people.”

  “I could see that. I’m sorry, Thomsett. I didn’t think beyond my own selfish need for a fresh view and a change.”

  “You deserve both,” he said, his voice harsh. He held himself still, as if containing himself, then let out a sigh. “We should eat and go straight back home afterward.”

  “That is not what you intended all along?” she asked.

  “I wanted to show you the sea, out along the cliffs, where it breaks against the wall. Perhaps another day.”

  The pie, when it came, was piping hot, the gravy steaming gently. It was good, as good as anything Lilly had ever tasted in the city. She ate with a relish that surprised her.

  Thomsett watched her. “It’s good to see you eating,” he said with a smile.

  She wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back. “I don’t feel like eating often,” she confessed. “Usually, I feel too sick to try.”

  “Because of the…” He hesitated.

  Because of the memories. She didn’t need him to finish the sentence. “Yes,” she confirmed.

  Thomsett pushed his own plate aside. “It takes me two days to want to eat again
.” His gaze met hers.

  A tall man with an ale tankard in his hand came out of the back room and paused, looking at Thomsett. His smile was one of delight, as he came over to the table.

  Lilly moved her gaze from the man to Thomsett and back to the man, warning Thomsett.

  Thomsett turned just as the man reached the table. The man laughed and put the tankard on the table behind him, pulled Thomsett to his feet and shook his hand.

  Thomsett gripped his jacket with both hands and shook him. “Cary, what on earth are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same thing about you, sir. It is good to see you! I didn’t believe it when Wilson told me. I had to come and see for myself.”

  “You’re not in uniform?”

  “A rare day off. It has been a hell of a—” He jerked upright and bowed his head to Lilly. “I beg your pardon,” he said.

  “It is given,” Lilly assured him.

  Thomsett dropped his hand on the man’s shoulder. “My lady, may I present to you Lieutenant Cary Shore, of the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers Regiment of Foot?”

  “Captain Shore, now,” Cary said.

  “Captain Shore,” Thomsett corrected himself. “Cary, I am honored to introduce to you the Lady Lillian Williams.”

  Cary bowed deeply. “It is an honor indeed, Lady Lillian.”

  Lilly inclined her head, hiding her puzzlement. Why had Thomsett told the Captain who she was?

  “Pull up a chair,” Thomsett told Cary.

  Cary hauled one of the heavy chairs from the nearest table over to theirs and straddled it. He twisted around and picked up his tankard and settled it on the table between them.

  Thomsett rested his hand on Cary’s arm for a moment. “The identity of Lady Lillian is not known here, Cary. Can I trust you to maintain that discretion?”

  Cary frowned. Lilly saw his gaze cut to her then move back to Thomsett. “Is there trouble?” he asked, his voice low. He sounded far more sober than he had a moment ago.