The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) (13 page)

“Sir, where would Lady Ken—Lawrie run? She had no coin.”

Hell. His wife had proven resourceful thus far. Joseph strode to the wardrobe and jerked it open. Empty. “Where’s the doll?” He spoke curtly.

Tears streamed down the maid’s face. “The doll?” she repeated, brows furrowing in confusion.

“You saw the doll,
oui?
’Tis dressed as a gypsy, black hair, colorful skirts, eerie eyes?” He flung out a hand.

She moved slowly to the closet, expression still puzzled. “Yes, my lord, but I fail to understand— It’s gone, as well.”

Lips pursed, Joseph dashed through the adjoining door to his chamber. She had blunt, all right, and enough to get her anywhere she chose. He stood at the window and considered her options. There were few. The most likely destination was Ixworth, her family home. He groaned. Ixworth was at least five days away by mail coach. London, another two.

He shoved a hand through his hair. Seth was wrong. Not only was his wife not an idiot, but she’d managed on her own wit for years.

****

Kendra pulled the mob cap over her brows, the one she’d pilfered from the kitchens. She’d had no choice. Her hair was like a lighthouse beacon. She’d survived the pony cart that had bounced her derriere numb. She even sported a nice fat splinter in her middle finger, compliments of gripping the wooden side when the wheel dipped in a particularly deep pit on the road. It wasn’t as if she’d had many options.

Added to that, her plans to head north had gone slightly awry. Although, in retrospect, that may have bought her time. Now, she found herself in a luxurious contraption with seats of cushioned velvet, a child of two planted on her lap, bound for Leeds.

Mary Elizabeth had a full head of dark curly hair and large violet eyes. Said child seemed unnaturally enamored with Kendra’s white cap. She closed her hand over Mary’s before the wayward child succeeded in tugging it off completely. As it happened, several blonde locks escaped.

“Kate! Miss Faye.”

Kendra jerked, startled at the sharpness. So did Mary. “Yes, ma’am?”

Mary Elizabeth’s mother, Lady Elinor Ballard, would likely expire from mortification if she realized the nanny she’d employed to escort them to Sunderland was, in actuality, the Earl of Macclesfield’s feebleminded daughter. Henry Ballard was merely a baron, and his wife was a bit high in the instep.

“What are those dreadful marks on your hands?”

Kendra swallowed and lowered her gaze. “I-I don’t know, ma’am. I’ve had them as long as I-I can remember.”

Her breath caught in her throat until Lady Ballard “hmphed.” Blessedly, she let the matter go. Despite the comfort of the carriage’s opulence, Kendra was exhausted. She’d survived two nights thus far, but pretending to understand and to care for an energetic child was taking its toll.

Mary Elizabeth, once ensconced in the chamber she and Kendra were forced to share, chose not to rest. Why should she, after having been trapped in a gilded cage all day? While Mary took refuge in sleep on Kendra’s lap by day, the evening was then spent chasing after the little minx. It mattered not how adorable she was.

At the crack of dawn, the same situation repeated. Kendra vowed, in that moment, that if she were ever cursed with such little monsters she would employ two nannies—each to relieve the other.

“You look vaguely familiar, Miss Faye. Who was your previous mistress?”

A sick feeling fluttered. But Kendra was the consummate actress. She masked a smirk while she considered the stage as an option should her current plan fall through. “No one, milady. I am but…sixteen…” Her voice trailed off.

“Hmm, that’s odd. I feel certain I have seen you before.”

She had, too. Lady Ballard’s other daughter was Kendra’s true age of eighteen, Ester Mae, a horrid girl. Ester Mae spent her time dwelling on the shortcomings of others, quite loudly in fact, while bolstering her own virtues, few that they were.

Kendra stared out the window at the passing landscape as the memory assaulted her.

“What is this?” Ester Mae strolled into the retiring room at the Hamdens’ bash, Ginny Hamden in her wake. “Lady Frazier, are you hiding?”

“Of course not,” Kendra huffed, indignantly. Thankfully, she’d repaired herself before their barrage. Tears dried, back straight, she faced Ester Mae and Ginny.

Someone had suggested Charades, and when it came time for Kendra’s turn, she caught the malice in Ester Mae’s eyes. Unfortunately, not soon enough. Ester Mae handed Kendra the scrap of paper mentioning the title she was to perform. Ester had set her trap well. Kendra played ill and thought she’d survived the close call.

Ester Mae’s gaze pierced Kendra with barely disguised rancor. Her pitch, dipped in mirth, was directed to Ginny. “Lady Frazier has difficulty with…” A theatrical pause filled the small chamber.

Alarm and panic started from the tips of Kendra’s toes and worked its torture up her body in a torrential storm.

“Reading.” Ester Mae gave a delighted laugh. “Even the most easily formed words escape her simple mind.”

“Do tell,” Ginny gasped. “You can’t read, Lady Frazier?”

“Of-of course I can read, Ginny,” Kendra snapped. She smoothed trembling hands over her silk skirts, thankful she’d retained her gloves. Gossip would run rampant now, for Ginny was notorious for talk. “I’m just not feeling well.” Ester Mae was a hateful, hateful girl, looking too far above her station. The question of how Ester Mae had learned her secret paled in comparison to her need to bolt. But not before she put the little heathen in her place.

Kendra breathed through the tension, willing it from her face.

Kendra smiled. “Ester Mae, Sir Ralph is waiting for you.” She moved to the door and clasped the handle.

Ester Mae’s lips lifted in triumph. “Oh. I must go, Ginny. Um…Lady Frazier, where, pray tell?”

She imposed her most innocent gaze. “Just outside the ballroom, I believe, behind the planter. He was talking to…” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Lady Wilkes.” Kendra made her exit on Ester Mae’s and Ginny’s simultaneous gasps. Everyone in the haute ton knew once Lady Wilkes sank her claws into a man breaking away became difficult. Though why it became difficult to leave was beyond Kendra’s comprehension. If one wished to leave, then one just left.

“Papa, I am not going again! Ever! You can’t make me,” Kendra cried on her father’s shoulder later that night.

“All will be well, my dear. You wouldn’t have to suffer the likes of them if you were to marry.” His arms comforted her as if she were still five. The scent of tobacco clung to his coat, his deep voice reassuring. He heaved a deep breath. “What say we make a visit to Chalmers Kingdom? We’ve an invitation to Prince Charming’s coronation ceremony. I understand his wife, Princess Cinderella, and her sisters, Priscilla and Esmeralda, are lovely.”

“I’ll never marry, Papa.”

“I hear Lord Yarmouth’s notorious son recently married,” Lady Ballard bellowed. “ ’Tis said his wife has already deserted him.”

Mayhap the floor could just fall through and swallow her up? But Kendra’s yearnings came to naught. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted. Mary Elizabeth stirred, her head nestled against Kendra’s breast.

“He approached Lord Ballard in Leeds.”

Kendra felt faint. “He did?”

Lady Ballard’s voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper. “He is a stage performer, you know.” She shuddered.

Kendra watched, fascinated with the display of theatrical by-play. Apparently Lady Ballard failed to see any correlation between Lord Lawrie’s stage act and her own. The venue might be different, but each conveyed enough drama to sell tickets. “I’d heard,” she murmured, “he is quite the illusionist.”

Lady Ballard’s hand flung out in disgust. “Men of his ilk have no morals.”

Indignation surged. How dare she! “His ilk? I hear tell he found his new wife…attractive.”

“Short lived. She’s already run.”

Kendra touched her lips to Mary Elizabeth’s head, then turned her gaze out the window. Northallerton was upon them.
Yes.
She’d run
. “Mayhap, she had reason,” she said softly.

“I’m certain she is a
woman of questionable morals
, met on his travels.”

“She is not a woman of questionable morals, my lady.” Tone steeled, Kendra swung her gaze back to her employer.

A scornful huff raged from Lady Ballard. The tension in the carriage mounted to something near combustion, and she narrowed her eyes on Kendra. “What would
you
know of his wife?”

Plenty.
Kendra lowered her gaze.

“Ah,” the vile woman said, seeming to come to an understanding. “You were her lady’s maid. He deflowered you and turned you out. Then the future Countess of Yarmouth deserted him. It makes perfect sense.”

Surprise had Kendra almost gaping at her, but she managed to keep her mouth from dropping open.

“Of course, I shall have to dismiss you as soon as we stop. Mary Elizabeth cannot be tainted by the likes.” She said all of this without a hint of remorse or doubt. ’Twas as if what came out of her mouth was indubitably true.

“And my wages?”

Lady Ballard looked offended. “I am an honest woman. Of course, I shall have to pay you less than agreed. To account for my malaise.”

One hour later Kendra found herself standing, valise clutched in hand, at the doors of Harper’s Inn. The wooden sign swung in a gentle breeze from its hooks. Kendra stared at the second word. It resembled a chair viewed from the side. “Inn,” she whispered, smiling. The word was Inn.

The door flew open. “Lady Lawrie?” Mrs. Harper engulfed Kendra in a vast embrace. “Come in, deary. Rachel! Food for Lady Lawrie.”

“My thanks, Mrs. Harper.” Kendra’s voice was lost in Mrs. Harper’s massive shoulder. “I must admit exhaustion.”

“Dear girl. I’ll have your regular room readied for ye.” Mrs. Harper hustled her in like an old friend.

Emotion rocked Kendra like the force of an explosion. Truly, she was blessed. She felt almost normal after a basin of water and a short nap.

“Here ye be, Lady Lawrie.” Rachel stood behind with a tray bearing tea and cakes.

Kendra’s mouth watered.

“Where is that lovely husband of yours?”

“H-he had business to attend. I’m to meet him in Sunderland in a few days’ time,” she said around a mouthful of lemon tart. The lies flowed off her tongue like butter. “I fear I shall have to leave first thing in the morning.”

“At least ye’ll be well fed.” Mrs. Harper bustled about the room, righting items that did not need righting.

Kendra dusted her hands of crumbs and picked up her tea, eyeing the older woman thoughtfully. “Is something amiss, Mrs. Harper?”

Mrs. Harper paused, then straightened. She turned slowly to pierce Kendra with grave eyes. “I want to thank ye, milady.”

Startled and confused, Kendra laid a hand at her throat. “Whatever for?”

“Rachel. After ye departed, she came t’ me. Said she…” Mrs. Harper sniffed back obvious tears. “She wanted to read. All due to ye, Lady Lawrie.”

****

Joseph was at a loss. Three days, and all he’d learned for his efforts was from a wayward farmer who had indeed picked up and delivered a young girl south to Knottingsley. She wore a maid’s cap. It was her. His gut told him so. The cap would hide gold hair that was as outstandingly distinct as London’s Westminster Abbey.
Oui
, she’d set her sights for Ixworth.

A day and a half later he crossed paths with the Earl of Macclesfield in Doncaster. He was not a happy man. “You lost my daughter?”

Joseph winced. “You might wish to lower your voice, my lord.”

The earl’s face flushed in anger. A vein at his temple throbbed. “I’ll kill you, you bastard.”

He deserved that and more. “At least let me find her first. I believe she’s headed to Ixworth.”

“Bah! She’d not come home.”

“Why not?”

“She ran away from me in the first place, didn’t she?”

“London, then.”

“Never. She refused to go back after her come-out. She thought it a disaster.”

“Then where the hell else would she go? I ran into Lord Ballard, and he’d seen nothing of her.”

“God’s teeth, man. You talked to that gossip? ’Twas no doubt all over the countryside by nightfall, then, I’d wager. What did he say?”

“He hadn’t any idea. He and Lady Ballard were headed to Hartlepool. Ballard has holdings in coal. They’d just replaced their nanny and were anxious to be on their way.”

The earl grimaced in disgust. “I’d heard the fool woman had another child a couple of years ago. She already has one girl Kendra’s age.”

“I traced her to Knottingsley. One of the local farm hands picked her up. Apparently, she’s quite proficient in adopting local accents.”

Despite his obvious irritation, the earl chuckled. “I’ve always wondered if her disability may have enhanced her other attributes. Hearing, and such. That gel has a mind like one of those newfangled traps.” The intense scrutiny he passed over Joseph made him cringe. “I thought you’d have learned something of her by this time.” The earl sighed, shaking his head. “She’s resourceful, that one. No telling where she’s took off to.”