The Whispered Kiss

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  Still, he had promised his master he would present them to milady when the moment was ripe. Very well. He would present them when he must, and milady would refuse. Godfrey assured himself of this, though doubt still pricked a bit at his mind.

  

  “Godfrey?” Coquette asked as Godfrey opened the door that she might exit the coach. “Why have you stopped here?” The very sight of Lionhardt Manor caused both sweet and bitter melancholy to rise within her. Once she had loved Lionhardt Manor, for it had been the home of her beloved Valor. Yet still she loathed it, for he had quit it after her father’s refusal of her hand. “Why have you brought me to—”

  “Coquette! Coquette! My darling sister!” Elise exclaimed as she ran down the front steps of Lionhardt Manor, her arms flung wide in excited greeting. “You have come! He sent you just as he promised! I knew he would!” Elise threw her arms around Coquette’s neck, hugging her with a near brutality, an odd sort of desperation. “I knew he would send you to me…to us,” she breathed.

  “Elise,” Coquette sighed, smiling at the warm embrace of her sister. “Yes, he sent me,” she said.

  Elise pulled away, smiling at Coquette. “You look well,” she said. “Rosy-cheeked and happy.”

  “Yes,” Coquette said. “But…but why are you here? I thought Inez…I thought the ceremony would be at the church and the gathering afterward at Father’s house.”

  Elise smiled, somewhat uncertainly, however. “It is what I did not want to tell you in my letters, Coquette,” she began. “But this is Father’s house now. Lionhardt Manor. He acquired it shortly after you left us…shortly after the new ships arrived. It is strange, is it not? Us—living in such a home?”

  Coquette felt a deep frown furrowing her brow as she turned and looked to Godfrey. “He sold his ancestral home to my father?” she asked.

  Godfrey did not speak at first, but the narrowing of his eyes, the barely discernible nod he offered, answered in place of his voice. In the next moment, Godfrey uttered three words, causing Coquette’s innards to tremble with conflicting emotion. “Gifted it, milady.”

  “Gifted it?” she whispered. “Without payment of any sort? Without…” Yet she paused, realizing there had been payment: she had been the payment.

  “Who is this, Coquette?” Elise interrupted. “And what are you going on about?”

  Having no wish to explain how their father had acquired Lionhardt Manor, having no wish to yet reveal it was Valor who was Lord of Roanan, Coquette answered quickly in order to distract her sister from further questions concerning her father’s new estate.

  “This is Godfrey, Elise,” she said. “Va—the Lord of Roanan’s first-man…and my friend.”

  “How pleasing is to meet you, sir,” Elise said with a nod and a curtsy in Godfrey’s direction.

  “The pleasure is mine, miss,” Godfrey said with a nod and a stiff bow.

  “Coquette!” Inez exclaimed as she descended the stairs, Dominique close at her heels. “Coquette! You have come! How delighted I am that you are come to my wedding!”

  Inez embraced Coquette loosely and with haste, all the while studying Godfrey and the coach.

  As Dominique then embraced Coquette, Inez said, “How fine your coachman is dressed, Coquette. Blue velvet! And the coach…exquisite!”

  Coquette glanced to Godfrey and then the coach. She had never before noticed the finery of either. To her, a coach was a conveyance—a means of getting from one place to the other. As for Godfrey, he was Valor’s first-man, his friend, and her own. She saw only a strong and good man, not a servant dressed in finery.

  “This is Godfrey,” Coquette said.

  “Is he come then too?” Inez asked, again looking past Coquette to the coach. “Has the Lord of Roanan come to my wedding as well?”

  “He is not to attend,” Godfrey answered. “Only milady has been sent.”

  Inez arched one eyebrow, her mouth tightening into a pinched pucker. “Your coachman speaks bold for a servant.”

  “Godfrey is my friend,” Coquette said, “and the Lord of Roanan’s. He has been so kind as to accompany me in milord’s absence.”

  “I must say, Coquette,” Inez began, her mouth still pinched and puckered, “I feel I should take great offense at your husband’s not attending.”

  “Was it your wish to see your sister again, Inez? To have her share in your special day?” Elise snapped. “Or would you have preferred her wealthy and titled husband attend, that his grand reputation might flatter you and your remaining guests?”

  Coquette looked to Elise, surprised by her sudden burst of irritation and emotion. She watched as Elise frowned and put a hand to her temple. The battle of her two parts, the struggle she had mentioned in her letters, was plain on her countenance.

  “Your frequent impertinence is beginning to wear on Dominique and me, Elise,” Inez said.

  “Yes,” Dominique added. “For all your dramatics, one would think you were not happy for Inez and me—for father and his new acquisitions and heightened position in society.”

  Coquette turned to Godfrey. She wanted Valor—wanted nothing more than to return to Roanan, to see his beloved face, to linger in his company.

  “Godfrey,” she began. “I must—”

  “Please take Coquette’s coach and horses to the stables, man,” Inez instructed. “We will prepare a place for you in the house.”

  “Milady?” Godfrey asked.

  “Coquette, I thought I might die if you were not to come,” Elise whispered, linking her arm through Coquette’s.

  “Godfrey?” Coquette whispered.

  “Milord will be waiting at Roanan when we return, milady,” Godfrey told her with a nod.

  He understood, and Coquette smiled at him. Godfrey sensed her insecurities of separation from Valor. Yet he sensed Elise’s need for her as well. With several days to himself to consider things, perhaps the beast would weaken further. Without Coquette present to vex the beast so often, perhaps Valor’s nature would have the chance to dominate.

  “Very well,” Coquette finally decided. “Is John Billings’s stable near here?” she asked.

  The sudden light in Elise’s eyes burst bright and radiant. “Why, yes!” she said. “Just there in Bostchelan,” she said, pointing east. “Billings’s Stables. He has done quite well for himself.”

  “Then would you shelter the coach and horses there, Godfrey? Instead of here?” Coquette asked. “Perhaps Elise would be willing to accompany you there. Would you be so kind, Elise, as to show my friend where Billings’s Stables are located and then accompany him back?”

  Elise’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, yes, Coquette!” she exclaimed. “I would love to!”

  “Miss,” Godfrey said, pulling the coach door open and offering a hand to Elise. She accepted his hand with a giggle of delight and settled herself into Valor’s grand coach.

  “Elise!” Inez scolded. “Father would want Coquette’s coach at our stables.”

  “I assure you, Inez,” Coquette began, “that my husband would want his coach stabled at Billings’s.”

  Inez’s mouth pinched tighter with angered indignation as Dominique’s dropped open in astonishment. Coquette saw Godfrey’s uncharacteristic grin as he witnessed Elise tauntingly stick out her tongue at Inez and Dominique when he closed the coach door.

  Coquette tried to stifle the feelings of pride and triumph rising in her. Yet Inez was so arrogant, so assuming, Dominique so weak-willed and conforming. It vexed her terribly! It was time they had a lesson or two in humanity and humility. Further, Coquette, knowing of Elise’s affection for John Billings, had seen the perfect opportunity to set her sister in the kind man’s way.

  “Thank you, Godfrey,” Coquette said as Godfrey lifted her trunk down from the top of the coach, setting it at her feet. “I’m sure someone can help me with the trunk. Please give John Billings my thanks, and tell him I will visit soon.”

  “Yes, milady,” Godfrey said.

  Coquette
watched the coach pull away, returning Elise’s excited wave.

  “My, my, my,” Inez said once the coach was past the front gates of Lionhardt Manor. “Quite the lady, aren’t we.”

  Coquette inhaled a calming breath, fortifying her patience before turning to face her sister once more. “These days are to be yours, Inez,” Coquette said. “Your wedding. It is perhaps one reason my husband chose to remain in Roanan, for he knows you would not want anything or anyone distracting from you on your day.” Coquette watched as Inez frowned. She knew her sister was considering on whether to be flattered or offended.

  “How would your husband know what I would prefer?” Inez asked. “He does not know me.”

  “Doesn’t he?” Coquette whispered.

  “Come, Coquette,” Dominique said then. “Wait until you see the surprise we have prepared, in the hope, however small, that you would attend.”

  Inez’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Coquette, but Coquette simply smiled, feigning innocence.

  “Elise,” Inez grumbled as she followed Dominique and Coquette up the stairs. “The silly girl. She insisted on preparing a room for you just in case you were able to attend the wedding.”

  “And you will not believe the one she chose,” Dominique said, pausing before a great oak door in the upper hallway of Lionhardt Manor. Dominique pushed the door open to reveal an elegant bedchamber bedecked in red velvet and white linens. It was very similar to Valor’s chambers at Roanan Manor House, and it struck her instantly—this room too had once belonged to Valor.

  “It was Valor’s,” Inez said, though Coquette’s heart already knew it to be true. “Silly goose that Elise is, she thought you might enjoy the reminiscence of your long-lost love.”

  “Oh, he was a handsome one, Valor Lionhardt,” Dominique sighed. “How difficult it must’ve been for you, Coquette—abandoning the memory of Valor in order to marry some weathered old Lord of Roanan.”

  Coquette swallowed the need to burst, the need to reveal who the Lord of Roanan truly was. This was not the time. Let her sisters gloat over her, for she had her love. Perhaps he was not fully revealed yet, but she knew he would be. She knew Valor would be hers entirely—one day.

  “The room is beautiful,” Coquette said.

  “When Father took possession of the house, we did dust in here and clean the linens, for it looked as if it had not been touched in years—since Valor’s departure, I suppose,” Inez said.

  “Thank you,” Coquette said. “If you would be so kind as to have someone bring up my trunk, I would like to change from my traveling clothes and perhaps rest for a few moments.”

  “Certainly,” Dominique said. “However, there is much to do, and we would appreciate your help as soon as you are able.”

  “You may be the grand Lady of Roanan in Roanan, Coquette,” Inez added. “But to us, you are simply our sister.”

  “I would have it no other way,” Coquette said, forcing a smile. “However, may I ask…is Father at home?”

  “Father is in Bostchelan,” Inez said. “We received some disturbing news this morning. His good friend, Lord Noah Springhill…you remember him, do you not, Coquette?”

  “It is well I remember him,” Coquette said, anxious perspiration suddenly beading on her forehead. How would she ever forget the man who attempted to murder her husband?

  “He has been killed!” Dominique exclaimed. “Run through, so we’ve heard.”

  “Indeed,” Coquette said.

  “Naturally Father is terribly upset,” Inez began, “for Lord Springhill was a great collector of antiquities—a wealthy client of Father’s.”

  “Father has gone into Bostchelan to acquire more details of his death,” Dominique explained.

  “And to post a bidding on his estate—being that Father knows of its worth in antiquities,” Inez added.

  “Lord Springhill was an animal,” Coquette said. “It does Father’s character no good to have been in league with such a man.” Coquette’s hand went to her side, to the healing wound dealt by Lord Springhill himself. Yet she smiled, for it was not the pain of the wound she felt there. Rather it was the exhilarating touch of Valor’s fingers and hand. Even still she thrilled at the memory of his tender touch, his concern over her wound.

  “What would you know of Lord Springhill?” Inez spat. “He bought many things from Father.”

  “And Father endeavored to sell many things to him,” Coquette said.

  “You are greatly changed, Coquette,” Inez said, her mouth pinching into an indignant pucker.

  “Do you mean in that I no longer turn this cheek and then the other to be slapped?” Coquette said.

  “Slapped? Whoever slapped you?” Inez spat.

  “Those I allowed to, I suppose,” Coquette said then.

  For it was true. In her despair over losing Valor, in her desire to remain kindhearted and good, she had allowed herself to be abused by her own father and family—used and taken advantage of. Since leaving Bostchelan and residing at Roanan with Valor, she had learned one could yet be kind and good and still own strength and self-worth.

  “It’s clear you require rest, Coquette,” Inez said, “for you speak in riddles.”

  “We will have your trunk carried up to you, and then you may rest for a time before you attend to the duties we have for you,” Dominique said.

  “I will rest until I am well enough rested,” Coquette said. “And please, send Godfrey to me as soon as he returns.”

  “Very well, milady,” Inez said, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

  “Thank you, Inez—Dominique,” Coquette said, smiling.

  They left then, in a bustle of annoyance and indignation. Coquette closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply, and fought the urge to run from the room, seek out Godfrey, and beg him to take her back to Valor. Why had she allowed him to send her away? She worried the wound at his shoulder was paining him, worried he would somehow disappear while she was in Bostchelan for her sister’s ridiculous wedding. She wanted to see him, to touch him, to know he was near to her. But he was not, and she must endure as best she could, for her own sake as well as Elise’s. She sensed Elise was confused and wild with frustration. She must help her one good sister, her kindhearted sister who loved the man who was once her father’s stableboy.

  In an effort to distract herself, she began to look around the room. Smiling, she noted how similar this room was to Valor’s chambers at Roanan. Crimson had ever been Valor’s favorite color. She giggled, remembering how once, long ago, Valor had told her he wished she could wed him wearing a crimson wedding dress instead of white. “You draped in crimson, Kitty—it would be my utter undoing,” he had said one cool winter’s day long ago.

  Moving to the wardrobe, Coquette opened it, gasping when she saw the clothing hanging within, recognized the blue velvet coat Valor had worn the day he’d come to ask her father for her hand. There were several sets of boots lining the wardrobe floor, other coats, shirts, and trousers hung within as well. Had he taken nothing when he’d abandoned Lionhardt Manor?

  Suddenly overcome, she brushed the tears from her cheeks as she reached out and ran a hand over one sleeve of the blue velvet coat. What pain they had both known that day. And yet she loved the feel of the velvet on her palm, reveled in the memories of his arms through the very sleeves of it, the strength of them holding her close against the power of his body, his kiss—warm, delicious, loving.

  How long she spent in sentimental exploration of Valor’s discarded things, she knew not. Lost in her reveries, Coquette had no concept of time until Elise fairly burst in upon her.

  “Oh, Coquette!” her sister exclaimed. “He grows more handsome each time I see him!”

  “John Billings?” Coquette asked, smiling.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Elise said. “And Valor has sent him a note!”

  “What?” Coquette gasped, so stunned by Elise’s words she stumbled backward.

  “Hush, Coquette,” Elise warned, an index finger placed to
her lips. Quickly she turned and closed the door to the chamber, bolting it behind her. Then turning back to Coquette and taking hold of her shoulders, she whispered, “I know it is Valor who is the Lord of Roanan, Coquette!”

  “What?” Coquette breathed again in disbelief. How was it possible Elise knew of Valor?

  “Oh, I am so happy for you! To belong to your true love at last!” Elise whispered with excitement. “Yet it is only several days I have known. I came upon the revelation by accident. Valor’s signature…it appeared on a set of papers delivered to Father the week before last. I know everything, Coquette. Well, nearly everything,” Elise said. “I know more than Father, for he is too lost in the joy of his riches to have even read the papers delivered to him. He yet does not know Valor is Lord of Roanan. And I must ask, though I fear you may be vexed with me in doing so, yet I must know. When did you realize Valor was he—the man you had been sent to marry?”

  Coquette’s mind reeled and spun with confusion. How could it be her sister knew of the Lord of Roanan’s true identity and her father and other sisters did not? What papers were delivered?

  “I-I did not know until we had been married—until our wedding night,” Coquette stammered. “It was, in fact, Godfrey who stood in Valor’s place—as proxy in his stead at our wedding. And then…then at midnight…the Lord of Roanan appeared…and he was revealed to be Valor.”