Wild Bells to the Wild Sky (27 page)

But it was another incident when Lily felt the first stirrings in her heart, changing her from a girl into a woman with a woman's desires for a man. It had happened after the storm, when the seas had calmed. She had been
d
reaming,
but
the dream had turned into a nightmare with her screams filling the small cabin as she tried to escape the creature chasing her. She couldn't lift her feet and the glowing eyes had kept moving closer and closer, swirling around her until she was lost in darkness.

Lily had
awakened from the nightmare to find a warming glow flooding the cabin and strong arms holding her close, keeping her safe from the horrifying apparition. Burying her face against Valentine Whitelaw's shoulder, she had cried. His hand had caressed her gently, comfortingly. He had lifted her face to his gaze, and Lily could still remember how clear and bright his eyes had been. Then he had smiled and all of the shadows had vanished. She had felt his lips against her forehead and heard him call her his sweetest heart. Her fears quieted, her tears dried, and her breath coming less raggedly, Lily had gradually become aware of the man holding her so close against his bare chest and her heart had started to p
ound erratically all over again,
confused by the rush of emotions she could not understand, Lily had jerked away from him, startling both of them by her violent rejection of this touch.

He had seemed disconcerted, even hurt, by her apparent revulsion. She had wanted to tell him that she hadn't meant it, that she wanted him to hold her again, but she could only lie there staring up at him with tearful eyes. Without touching her again, he had covered her with the blanket, then stepped away from the bed. He had stood before her for a moment, staring down at her. Lily had closed her eyes, mortified at the heat rising in her cheeks as she stared at his bare chest, her eyes drawn to the
muscular
narrowness of his hips, covered only by the thin leather of his breeches. He seemed to have forgotten that he'd only had time to pull on his breeches when he'd heard her cries, but Lily was painfully aware of his near nakedness. Suddenly the innocence of the days when she and Tristram had swum naked in the cove was gone. She dared not open her eyes, or he would surely know what she was remembering. She squeezed her eyes tighter, afraid to meet his penetrating gaze. The minutes seemed like hours, then, finally, she heard the door. He had left. The cabin had seemed so empty without his presence, and snuggling deep beneath the covers, she
had
whispered aloud the words he had spoken to her, holding them close to her heart.

Her love for Valentine Whitelaw had deepened beyond a mere physical attraction as the
Madrigal
sailed closer to home. And a part of Lily's love came of a knowledge of Valentine Whitelaw that other women would never understand, nor even be privileged to experience. Lily came to respect the captain of the
Madrigal
the same way her crew did. She saw a man of courage, whose spirit was defiant and daring, yet whose intrepidity was tempered by his own deep respect for the sea and the men who had pledged to serve him aboard the
Madrigal
. Serve her captain well and every man from gentleman-adventurer to lowliest swabber was treated fairly. Only those unfortunate few who shirked their duty or disobeyed their captain's orders learned how uncompromising a man Valentine Whitelaw could be, showing no mercy in exacting punishment for the offense.

And yet, the man who could give the order to have a seaman who'd stolen from his mates flogged was also the man who held Dulcie on his lap, teasing her and kissing her until she hugged him tight. He was a thoughtful man, patiently teaching Tristram about the sea, untiringly explaining to him about charting and measuring the stars, even allowing him to take a measurement with the cross-staff he used to chart the
Madrigal's
course toward home.

Once, when she had still been recovering from her fever and had yet to leave the cabin, Lily had caught his eye on her and had blushed rosily, modestly pulling the short shift she wore down below her knees as she sat on the bunk. For the first time, Lily had been aware of herself as a maturing young woman who would have to dress accordingly. The next day she had found on her bunk one of her mother's gowns from the hut. It had been shortened and taken in by a tuck or two in the appropriate places. Embarrassed and indignant, she had not thanked him. But when she had gone on deck and felt herself the cynosure of all eyes, she had belatedly realized that Valentine Whitelaw had acted to protect her from further embarrassment at the hands of his crew. Although not a woman yet, she was old enough to attract the roving eye and
ribald
comment of sailors who'd been at sea for months.

Valentine Whitelaw spoke eloquently of many things. He had traveled the world and could spin a tale as well as Basil or her father ever had. Lily had sat watching him, spellbound, her green eyes glowing like emeralds. Gradually she had become less ill-at-ease when around him, her curiosity and returning amiability drawing her more and more into the conversation, until one day she found herself smiling into his eyes unself-consciously. And when he had come to stand beside her on the deck and placed his arm across her shoulders to steady her as the
Madrigal's
bowsprit swung to starboard, she had not drawn away. She had gazed up into his face, responding to the smile that came into his eyes as he drew her closer and they stood there in companionable silence.

Lily's spirits had soared and reality had fled. She'd become lost in a young girl's romantic dreams, and Valentine Whitelaw, unaware of his godlike stature in her eyes, became the object of her tender passion. After that, the voyage to England passed all too quickly. Then one morning, just as dawn broke through the heavy clouds hanging low against the eastern horizon, she had heard the cry "Land-ho!" and hurrying on deck had seen the misty
shoreline
looming to larboard. England. From the deck of the
Madrigal
, it looked cold and forbidding, not the land of rolling green hills covered in wildflowers that Basil had spoken of with such fondness.

But Lily was still lost in the enchantment of having fallen in love.
She
was as yet unaware that her future might not be what she had so innocently envisioned in her most treasured dreams. It had not been
until
they had reached Ravindzara and Lily had met Valentine's
family, and the lovely Honoria P
enmorley, that she had discovered a very real world existed beyond their isle in the sun and the magical seas the
Madrigal
sailed.

Honoria Penmorley was a part of that unfriendly world, and Lily's spirits sank as she remembered the reflection of a thin, brown-skinned girl that had met her eyes this morning in her looking glass. Why couldn't she be as beautiful as Honoria Penmorley? she wondered despondently? The woman's skin was pale and soft, and
the
re wasn't a freckle to be seen on her nose. Lily stared down at her own small, brown hands, then thought of the sprinkling of freckles across her own nose. Honoria Penmorley had slender hands with long, tapered fingers that moved gracefully when she spoke. Lily pushed back a long strand of dark red hair that had somehow managed to free itself from the neat braid Quinta Whitelaw had tried to pin fashionably on top of Lily's head. Honoria Penmorley never had a curl out of place. And her hair was a pale, soft color.

Lily puffed out her cheeks, trying to fill in the curving lines of her heart shaped face. Her chin was too pointed, not nicely rounded like Honoria Penmorley's. Everything about Honoria Penmorley was pale and d
elicate and softly rounded, L
ily thought in growing despair, afraid that she would lose Valentine Whitelaw to the unfairly favored Honoria Penmorley.

Hearing approaching steps, Lily quickly close
d
the window. Pulling the velvet hanging across the part of the window embrasure where she sat, Lily moved deeper into the shadows, unwilling to reveal her presence, especially when she recognized the voice that drifted to her along the hall.

"
I did not think I would need my cloak whilst taking a moment's exercise in the hall, but there is an uncommonly chilly draft. 'Tis worse than if we were walking outside in the rain," the voice complained between chattering teeth. Safely tucked away in the darkened window seat, Lily watched the two people approaching.

Honoria Penmorley was dressed in a gown of brown and gold brocade of a severe cut with just a touch of lace at the wrists and a small, discreet ruff about her slender throat. Her light brown hair was dressed in neatly wound braids, and covered by a white silk attifet, the heart shaped headdress sitting attractively on her fashionably coiffed head.

" 'Twas most hospitable of Valentine to invite us to stay overnight. It would appear as if the rain will continue till morning," she
continued conversationally. "
I had not looked forward to the ride back to Penmorley Hall in darkness. I fear the lanes will be virtually impassable."

"
Yes, it was very gracious of Whitelaw considering he has more house guests than normal and the work on the Hall is not yet completed. Indeed, I would foresee many more years of construction before the Hall is agreeably habitable. "Twould seem, however, that Quinta and Artemis have coped well enough," Sir Rodger responded.

"
Did you know that he plans on adding two more wings?"

"
Yes, I had heard. Soon the Hall will r
ival Penmorley once again. I t
rust his purse equals his enthusiasm," Sir Rodger advised. Cautious behavior was always uppermost in Sir Rodger Penmorley's mind.

"
Thus far, I think his efforts have been quite successful, although why he wishes to have the new windows overlook the sea is a mystery to me. He will have to keep the hangings drawn most of the day because of the glare," Honoria said. With a sideways glance at her brother from he
r light brown eyes she added, "
Now that he plans on living here permanently, he has great ambition for the Hall and for reestablishing is family in Cornwall."

"
And you, my dear?" Sir Rodger inquired, glancing down at his sister's face, though little of her expression could be seen in the shadowy hall.

"
I?" She asked coldly.

"
I do not mean to pry
, Honoria, but I am your brother, and I cannot have helped but notice a certain
tendresse
in your eye when you speak with our host."

"
I will not deny that I have speculated on the possibility of becoming mistress of Ravindzara."

"
I would caution you, my dear, that Valentine Whitelaw's infections may already be engaged elsewhere," Sir Rodger warned his sister.

“
Cordelia Howard?"

"
You know?"

"
I may lead a very sheltered life here, but I am not ignorant."

"
I never
-
-" Sir R
odger began, and said kindly, "
I only mentioned the lady because I did not wish you to harbor false expectations."

"
No, of course not, and I appreciate your brotherly concern. But you must understand that I have given the idea more than a passing thought. My decision comes not of a lovesick young
girl’s
penchant for her heart's desire, but of a woman's careful consideration of her
future. Valentine may discover
it rather more diff
icult than he imagines
to
find
a wife when she discovers his intentions of making her mistress of Ravindzara. Not many young women, accustomed to the amenities of London and the peaceful countryside of Hertfordshire or Kent, would look forward to the isolation of Cornwall. I, on the other hand, would choose to live nowhere else. Why do you think I have turned down most of the proposals I have received, despite how acceptable they might have seemed to you? I can afford to be particular, Rodger, and I intend to remain in Cornwall, near Penmorley Hall.

"
Therefore, the ideal arrangement would be to marry Valentine Whitelaw. He would be most suitable. His mother was a Polgannis. The name is still very much respected in the country. He inherited the Hall and intends to restore it in a fashion much to my tastes. When the Hall is returned to its former glory, under my guidance of course, I could accept this as my future home. Although I would prefer he made his fortune in a more circumspect fashion, it would appear Valentine is most successful as a privateer. It would also seem as if great profit can be realized from these voyages. I believe he will be quite wealthy one day. He is in good favor with
Elizabeth
. In these perilous times, it would be to our advantage, Rodger, to at least have one of us wed to a Protestant. It would bring us more influence and perhaps guarantee our safety should there be more riots against the Church. And, should the winds change more favorably and a Catholic monarch once again rule, then our family is of the Faith. We stand to gain either way," Honoria told him in her soft, thoughtful voice, but every so often, the dulcet tones became harsh, grating as much
as surprising the listener. "
I get along well enough with Quinta and Artemia, and I know they would respect my wishes and position as the new mistress. Valentine will expect them to remain in a residence, and I shall, of course, welcome them into my home. I would not have it said that I would turn out of my home an old woman and a cripple. They will have comfortable rooms in one of the wings. Their presence will be companionable while Valentine is away on his voyages, and they will be able to help with the children."