The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) (12 page)

“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?”

“I believe he is meeting with his father, Lord Yarmouth, in the library.”

Kendra waited no longer. It should not be that difficult to locate. It wasn’t. An exceptionally well-dressed gentleman who introduced himself as Joseph’s cousin, Seth, politely pointed her in the general direction. Kendra, poised, pushed the door ajar—and stopped cold, Joseph’s words piercing her heart.

****

“I find it odd her father did not address a letter to her personally. But no matter, at least we have heard from him.”

Joseph wasn’t listening. “
Mon Dieu
, if she were to read this note, and from her own father. Why, we might ne’er fill the nursery.” After reading the first two lines, he winced. “Or consummate our marriage,” he muttered under his breath. He raised his eyes from the letter and scowled at his father who sat in a wing-backed chair covered with a heavy blanket.

“What does it say? And, pray speak English. You know how I detest French.”

Joseph grinned and went back to the letter, starting from the top.

“
My dear Lord Joseph, Thanks be to God. I despaired of seeing either one of you ever again. I suppose you’ve more than earned your fee. Doubly so, since you’ve bound yourself to her personally. I wish to see for myself that my daughter is well and truly cared for. Dowry and contracts in hand, I shall leave for Yorkshire at once.

I suppose by now you’ve discovered just how special my dear Kendra is. For that, I must thank you in overlooking her slight inability to read…
”

Startled, Joseph glanced over at his father.

“What! You married an imbecile?” Yarmouth frowned. “Well, no matter. Fertility does not require acuity. But the offspring—”

“Enough,” Joseph growled. Kendra couldn’t read? What nonsense was this? After his initial confusion, small pieces began falling slowly into place. Charles Thomas’s attention aboard ship, her sensitivity to being labeled anything near “simple” or, God forbid, an
imbécile.
T
he crumpled note in her hand when fever overcame her, the note
she’d asked him to read
.

And what of the scars on her hands? Bile rose in his throat as he considered the logical implications, the words she’d screamed out in a feverish delirium. An over-zealous governess…

Joseph dropped into the chair behind his desk, and continued the letter in silence.

The child is otherwise quite brilliant in her own right. Her fingers glide over the keys of the pianoforte like Mozart. Her artistic sense and infallible memory will serve you well, if you allow it. I would stake her understanding in matters of agriculture against some of the greatest minds of our time. Take care of my daughter, Yarmouth, or rest assured you shall answer to me.

He needed to speak to Kendra.

“Cousin.” Seth sauntered through the door, adorned in a
tailcoat of silk-and-cotton plain-weave. The satin stripes layered over two silk vests were surprisingly subdued, in a color close to tree bark rather than his usual cherry red or apple green
. He also wore a knowing smile Joseph had learned never to trust.

Joseph bit back a groan. “Seth. Somehow I am not surprised to find you in residence.”

Seth grinned, a menacing sight that set Joseph’s teeth on edge. “What kind of greeting is that for your favorite cousin?” he said. “Good afternoon, Uncle Gareth.”

“Nephew,” Yarmouth grunted.

Joseph couldn’t leave him alone with his father. Joseph’s hackles rose. The thoughts were so ludicrous he could hardly put words to them. Had Seth wittingly assisted Uncle Rupert to his broken neck? And what of Uncle Simon, Seth’s own father? Joseph sank back into his chair, contemplating his only cousin. Sallow skin and black circles beneath beady black eyes showed his weakness for too much drink and late nights. And though Joseph had a couple of years on him, Seth’s middle already displayed a rounded pudginess.

After fifteen minutes, unable to stand the company of his cousin any longer, Joseph stood. “
Excusez-moi, s’il vous plaît.
An urgent matter requiring my attention has just come to light.”

“You’ve been missed, cousin.” Seth’s smile resembled a sneer. “How is your mother’s family? I trust your visit to France went well?” Insincerity clogged the atmosphere like a cloud of cigar smoke.

“Wonderful.” How long before he could escape? “How long do you plan to visit, Seth? Yorkshire doesn’t seem to suit many of your current pastimes.”

“True,” Seth agreed. “But I worry for Uncle Gareth. His health is a concern.”

“
Oui
, that it is.
Papa
, perhaps you should lie down for a bit before the evening supper.”

“Yes, yes. I think I will.” Joseph escorted his father to his chambers.

He searched out the butler. “Holmes.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Do not leave Seth alone with
Papa
for a single moment as long as he’s in this house.”

“Yes, my lord. It’s good to have you home, my lord.”

“
Oui, oui
.” Finally. He took the stairs two at a time. Just as he reached the end of the corridor, a curly-haired maid was stepping from the room, closing the door behind her, holding a tray.

“She is resting, my lord,” she whispered.

Joseph frowned. “I suppose I can wait until supper.”

“She’s eaten, my lord.” The maid looked pointedly at the tray she held. “She is quite exhausted.” With that, she disappeared through the servant’s stairs.

Joseph leaned against the wall. After a moment, he dug deep in his pocket and felt for the fragile scrap of fabric he’d found on the wooden planks of the ship days ago. Already, it was frayed at the edges, the blood dried to a rust-brown.

It mattered not that his wife couldn’t read. Relief squeezed his heart. She hadn’t been in love with Charles Thomas. The man had been schooling her. In some way she’d let him know of her disability and chose to seek help. That was an act of courage.

He stuffed the muslin back into his pocket. He pulled himself from the wall and turned the knob on the bedchamber door and peered in. One could barely ascertain her small form in the large bed, but she was huddled on the far side as still as a hibernating bear. He backed out. There was plenty of time to talk. She wasn’t going anywhere. They were married now.

Why did the thought leave him so uneasy?

Chapter Thirteen

Kendra lay like a curled marbled statue for an immeasurable amount of time after the door closed, the wait excruciating. She’d known it was Joseph by the raised hair on her nape. Fear left her breathless, in an utter fury of shaking beneath the covers.

When what seemed like hours had ebbed by, she crawled off the bed and rearranged the pillows in her place. Fully dressed, she tiptoed to the wardrobe and pulled out her valise, to pack the meager belongings Willow had so painstakingly unpacked. She felt a little guilty about that. She laid the gypsy doll on top and fastened it shut.

Keeping one ear tuned to the adjoining door, she moved quietly to the window and tipped the latch. Nary a creak sounded, a hefty credit in Martha’s favor. Yes, Martha had earned her fee, just as had Joseph.
I suppose you’ve more than earned your fee. Doubly so, since you’ve bound yourself to her personally.

“Doubly so,” she whispered, dropping her bag. It crashed softly into the bushes below. Re-latching the window, she moved to the door and laid her ear against it.
Dowry and contracts in hand, I shall leave for Yorkshire at once.
Not that she would be here by the time he arrived.
I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll miss you.

Silence from the hall.
I wish to see for myself that my daughter is well and truly cared for.
He should have thought of that before he paid a magician to marry her. Now she would be the one to perform the disappearing act.
I must thank you in overlooking her slight inability to read…

She slipped out the door and made her escape by way of the servants’ stairs.

Chapter Fourteen

Joseph had not slept well. Resigned, he dressed and made his way to the breakfast room.

The once opulent hall was bare of all but its grand furniture. It did gleam in a high shine. But the pictures had been sold off to help alleviate the debt Uncle Rupert had seen fit to bestow. Wallpaper in deep red reminded him of blood. Kendra should have a say in the remodel.

Though he hadn’t known her long, he felt certain she would opt for colors like marigold, sky blue, and lime green. Her entire demeanor encompassed spring. He hadn’t liked waking without her hand on his chest. He grimaced. She’d been sleeping a long time. It was worrisome. His disquietude from the night before had never settled.

He moved to the sideboard and filled a plate, his thoughts as scrambled as the eggs. He should have stormed her chambers, confessed what he’d learned. But she was intensely private about her literacy issues. The scars on her hands screamed it from the mountaintops. But he could have reassured her—vowed her inability to read changed nothing of his feelings.

Do—do you love me?

I…I’m attracted to you.

“Hell.” The plate slid from his grasp in a loud crash to the floor.

“Clumsy are we, Cousin?” Seth appeared round the door and grinned at the splattered food.

Joseph shot him a disgusted glance. He stepped back to allow the footman ample room to clear his
faux pas
. “How is it that you are still here?”

Seth ignored him, nudging the footman aside despite the fact he was still sopping up the mess.

Joseph wished he could sop up Seth, considering the canary yellow waistcoat his cousin had donned. ’Twas enough to give a grown man a malady. Relief came as his father ambled through the door. Joseph took his arm and assisted him to the chair at the table’s head.

“Good morning, Uncle. You look remarkably fit.” Seth’s malevolence was barely concealed.

Yarmouth squelched Seth with a look that had Joseph grinning. “I demand to meet your lovely bride, my son. Where is she? You didn’t keep her up so late that—”

“
Papa!
” Joseph barked, wishing that had indeed been the case. Unfortunately, all had been unnervingly quiet on Kendra’s side of the door. If she had so much as sneezed, he would have heard her.
Mon Dieu
, he was a lovesick fool.

Love. Sick. Fool
… The words stabbed through to his heart.

“I believe I caught sight of her late yesterday,” Seth said. “Pretty little thing, too. She was hovering outside the library door.”

His audacity set Joseph’s teeth on edge.

Then he frowned as the light dawned. A subtle yet nauseating sense of disaster unfurled deep in his gut. “What do you mean? Martha sent her to rest.”

The dining room doors crashed back. The maid he’d seen leaving Kendra’s room the previous night stood before them, terror stricken, wringing her hands.

“What is the meaning of this?” Seth demanded.

She flinched.

“Nephew! You are not the man of this house.” Yarmouth’s voice held quiet authority. “What is it, my girl? You gave us quite the start.”

“I-I’m sorry, my lord, b-but she’s gone.” Her voice was a whimper.

“Who’s gone?” his father asked, but Joseph already knew and flew from his chair.

“Are you speaking of my cousin’s idiot wife?” Seth laughed. The sound echoed awkwardly against the bare walls. “Surely she is just wandering the property, Cousin. She probably hasn’t the sense to find her way to the road.”

The maid gasped, horrified.

Joseph went a step farther, drawing back a fist. The plant in Seth’s nose was a satisfying crack. He slid from his chair in a heap, much like the plate Joseph had dropped. “Bicks, throw out the garbage.”

“Gladly, my lord.”

“Better yet, lock him away until we locate Lady Lawrie.” Joseph turned to the maid. “Come,” he said, and they rushed up the stairs. “When did you discover her gone?”

“Less than ten minutes ago, my lord.”

Joseph shoved past her door and studied the chamber. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary at first glance, just a plumper version of her beneath the blankets. Striding to the bed, fingers trembling, he pulled them back.
Pillows, two pillows
.