The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) (14 page)
Joseph stared at him as the truth smashed him in the head.
Sunderland
. What a fool he’d been. Wasted precious days. How had he not thought of it before?
Macclesfield narrowed his eyes. “Does she love you?”
Joseph looked down, heat climbing his neck, and studied his emptied glass. “I don’t know. But I love her.” He looked the earl in the eye. “I trust you can make your way to Yorkshire? I have a wife to abduct.”
“The contracts?”
“If she’s still inclined to be my wife when we return, we shall take care of matters then. But it will be her decision.” Joseph reached the door, but paused. “By the bye, my lord, have you perchance news regarding the
Cécile
?”
Macclesfield frowned. “Nothing. She was bound for the Americas just last week from Bordeaux. But what interest have you in the
Cécile
?”
“Nothing, my lord. Good day.”
Chapter Fifteen
Joseph rode hard. Too many days apart from Kendra had him snapping off even the most innocent of heads. The stop in Northallerton at Harper’s Inn had decided him. A change of clothes and a horse would have served him well. But when he’d spotted the gypsy doll on a chair in the parlor, he thought his heart would stop.
“Yer missus gave her to me.” The girl, six-and-ten at most, smiled at him shyly. “She said someday it would protect me.”
“Where’s the necklace?”
“There weren’t no necklace, my lord.”
“No necklace?” he barked.
To his abject horror she started to cry. “No sir. I give ye my word. She jes’ handed her to me, like. An said ‘She’ll serve ye well.’” She swiped a fist over her eyes. “She…she even hugged me goodbye. Me!” she wailed.
“My apologies, Miss…?”
“Rachel, my lord.”
“My apologies, Rachel. My wife is very kind, indeed.”
“She said ye were to meet her in Sunderland.”
She did?
He narrowed his eyes on her.
“Do ye want her back? The doll, that is?”
“
Non, mademoiselle
. If my wife bestowed her upon you, she is yours to keep.” Why would Kendra tell the Harpers she was meeting him in Sunderland? He pondered the question. Well, she could not confess to having left her husband. And traveling alone—
“Thank ye, sir.”
“Just one question, Rachel.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Did my wife show you the missive?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Did you read it?”
“Oh, no, sir. I can’t read. Not yet, sir.”
“Not yet?”
“Me mum is teachin’ me. Lady Lawrie said if’n I could read, I could travel the world through another’s eyes. She was sort of wistful-like.”
A soft smile filled him. “
Oui
, that sounds exactly like something my English lily would say,” he said softy.
It was half a day later he found himself praying she’d come to no harm in her journey as he glanced about. The street to Mrs. Thomas’s home was devoid of traffic, either carriage or foot, aside from a small single-horse carriage that stood in front of her modest house.
****
“This is unheard of, my lady. And you, a married woman!” Mrs. Thomas sputtered.
“It would be in return for...for—” Kendra cast a helpless glance in Edmund Stanley’s direction. Charles Thomas’s childhood friend was a tall, stern-looking man, with a serious mien and soft manner. His lips were pursed with disapproval. “Mr. Stanley’s…help,” she finished weakly.
“What could
you
possibly do to help?” Mrs. Thomas demanded.
Kendra flinched.
Not much
. After all, how could one assist at a school when one couldn’t even read?
Mrs. Thomas’s tone gentled. “Lady Lawrie, I realize your desire to contribute, and your sums are truly appreciated, but—”
Kendra threw out her hand, palm outward, interrupting her. “You will take the funds, regardless.”
“Mrs. Thomas.” Edmund finally saw fit to intervene, to Kendra’s relief. “I see no reason not to accept Lady Lawrie’s assistance.” He turned to her. “Your money is as good as any. I fear Mrs. Thomas is concerned with how much in the way of sums you are offering. The coins you’ve given have considerable valuable, being over a hundred years old.”
“ ’Tis for a good cause.” Kendra murmured. She was still reeling over Mrs. Harper’s gratitude and Rachel’s tearful thanks the day before after relinquishing the gypsy doll into Rachel’s care—minus the necklaces, of course.
“Yes.” Edmund cleared his throat. “Now, regarding your duties…”
****
“Your duties belong to me, Lady Lawrie.” Joseph was so relieved to hear Kendra’s voice, he’d brushed past the housekeeper in lieu of being announced. “Who are you?” he demanded of the solemn gentleman.
“Edmund Stanley. And may I enquire as to your identity, sir?” His staid bearing took on a protective stance, leaning toward Kendra.
Joseph could have laid him out flat but admired the undertaking. “Viscount Lawrie, Joseph Pinetti Gray. Heir to the Yarmouth Earldom.”
“My husband,” Kendra grimaced.
“I do not remember the Earl of Yarmouth as Joseph Pinetti.” Edmund frowned.
“My
mamán
took great amusement in naming me from her Italian father’s side. Her mother
was French.”
Edmund relaxed. Slightly. “Ah,” he said, as if that explained all.
“My apologies for barging in so, but I fear my wife and I have several urgent matters to discuss,” he said pointedly in her direction.
Stubbornness crossed her pink-cheeked face. “When we cease our business here, perhaps.”
Joseph raised a brow toward Edmund.
Edmund offered Kendra a short bow. “Lady Lawrie, my schedule is flexible. We shall conclude our visit at a later time. Mrs. Thomas. I’ll see myself out.”
Mrs. Thomas stood and went to Kendra, and grasped her hand. “Speak to your husband, dear.” She glanced at him, a wise look in her eye. “I have a feeling he has much to say.” She laid her cheek to Kendra’s, then turned to him. “You are welcome to my hospitality, my lord.” She disappeared through the door.
Silence filled the room with an oppressive weight.
When Kendra finally spoke, her voice trembled in anger, underlined with defeat. “Are you quite pleased with yourself, my lord?” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“Kendra—” He started toward her.
“No!” She threw her hands up, with a step back.
He stopped.
“Now that you’ve learned what an idiot you’ve married, my humiliation is complete. I feel ’tis my duty to release you from your vows.”
He looked at her thoughtfully, every urge screaming to take her in his arms. “Release me from my vows,” he repeated. He knew he could kiss her into submission, but that would be short-term thinking. “I see. How very generous of you,
ma chère.
But I fear things are a little more complicated than that. Your
Papa
has threatened my life.”
“Don’t be
ridiculous
,” she said, pacing the small chamber. “He was bluffing. He said as much to Alessandro de Lecce, and he married Lady Esmeralda in spite of Papa’s threats.”
“Alessandro was a fool,” he said softly.
She looked up, startled, then frowned. “I cannot read.”
“I can. What of it?” he said. “I have no artistic ability, no musicality, no knowledge of seed drills…”
A calculating gleam appeared in her eye.
It raised his skin into bumps. Joseph was across the room in an instant. He pulled her into his arms and plundered her mouth with his. This was right. This was perfect.
He lifted his mouth from hers. “If it will make you feel better, I shall read to you every night for the rest of our lives,” he whispered.
Epilogue
“I-I don’t understand.” Kendra held the sheet to her chest, frowning.
“What is it you don’t understand,
ma chère
?” Joseph was spent. He lay on his back, arm across his forehead. After much discussion and
heavy
debate, Joseph had finally convinced Kendra to return home with him.
Without the gold coins. She’d donated every last one of them to the Edmund Stanley and Charles Thomas School for the Unfortunate Poor. Personally, Joseph thought the name of the school poor and unfortunate, but to each their own, he decided, and let the issue slide. He had more pressing matters.
Currently, they were housed like royalty, stipendiary of the Harpers—much to Mrs. Harper’s insistence and Mr. Harper’s dismay. Rachel gushed and fulfilled their every request.
“I felt certain the gypsy doll was protecting me from this very thing.”
Joseph grinned. “What very thing?”
Kendra flung her hand out. “This…this act.”
“Act? ’Tis what married people do,
ma chère.
”
She scowled at him. “The note said only true love would break the curse. I thought she was preserving my virtue.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, your virtue is now in my hands.” He rose up on one shoulder and leered at her. “My very capable hands.”
“Yes… Well…” Her embarrassment entranced him.
He rose completely and drew her into his arms. He touched his lips to her temple. “Perhaps the curse is broken. After all, I feel invigorated, not ill.” He worked his way to caressing the column of her neck. “I did not succumb to slumber at the critical moment.”
“But—”
He nipped the lobe of her ear, gently. “But mayhap there was one thing I did fail to mention.”
A small moan escaped through her rapid breaths. “What was that?”
His lips trailed the edge of the sheet she still gripped in a tight fist. He smiled against the slope of her breast. “I failed to mention how much I love you. How your brilliance puts me to shame. How I would prefer death at your father’s hand than to live my life without you.”
“Oh, Joseph, I love you, too.” She gasped when his hand slipped beneath the sheet. “But tell me…do all Frenchmen talk so much?”
A word about the author...
Kae Elle Wheeler was born in Presque Isle, Maine. How she ended up in Texas, Colorado, and then Oklahoma is as much a mystery to her as anyone. She graduated from the University of Central Oklahoma with a BA in Management Information Systems and a minor in Vocal Music.
In the big picture, she has not been writing nearly as long as some of her writing cohorts, but she has already completed a number of manuscripts and has recently sold several.
An avid traveler, she’s been to Europe, Mexico, and Canada and roams from one RWA conference to another, nationwide. She’s served several positions in the Oklahoma Outlaws RWA Chapter.
Kae Elle lives with her musically talented husband in Edmond, Oklahoma, and has one grown daughter and one bossy cat!
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