The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) by Kae Elle Wheeler Read Free Book Online Page B

appeared quite young, fifteen at most. Her man—older, but not by much—swept her down from the carriage, kissing her with a fervor that left Joseph discomfited. Across the small street, another couple slid from a single horse and marched into the inn.
    Suspicion ebbed through him, and he straightened slowly from his post. “ Excusez-moi.”
    The girl gasped, eyes wide. “Father didn’t send you, did he?” Her beau squeezed his hand into a fist. As if he couldn’t flatten the lad with one punch.
    “ Non, mademoiselle . You are to be married?”
    “What about it, sir?” the boy demanded. Fierce pride marked his expression in a clenched jaw.
    Joseph narrowed his eyes. “By the blacksmith?”
    “That’s who performs the nuptials in Gretna.” The girl apparently had no problem gaining confidence when he no longer posed a threat.
    “ Merci beaucoup . Many happy returns.” Joseph darted across the street.
    ****
    “Twenty minutes,” Kendra fumed. How was she supposed to know how long before twenty minutes had passed? She’d already determined they’d somehow ended up in a small stable of some sort. Which made no sense whatsoever.
    She forced herself to remain still, to not pace. She didn’t want to miss someone’s untimely arrival. Locating an empty stall near the door, she prepared herself for whichever opportunity arose—escape or rescue—appropriate to her situation, and stood ready, wooden stake in hand.
    The door creaked. Her heart thudded loudly. She prayed her assailant didn’t hear.
    “Kendra?”
    She sagged, relieved, then rushed forward and threw herself into Joseph’s arms. He held her tightly against him. “Did you find out where they’ve imprisoned us?” she demanded against his shirt.
    Laughter rumbled through him. “I did, indeed. We’re in Gretna Green.”
    Kendra pushed away from him. “That’s impossible. Isn’t it?” He allowed her feet to touch the ground but did not relinquish his hold. She eyed him skeptically. “Are…are we married, sir?”
    His lips curved in a mysterious smile. “ Oui, madame . All that’s left is to make it official.”
    What was that supposed to mean? “W-we didn’t—”
    “ Non . But we did spend the night in one another’s arms. You will marry me,” he said darkly.
    Her eyes dropped to the large dark stain on her skirt. “I…my skirt.”
    “Right. Here. I’ve brought you this.” He held out a light pelisse that lay over his arm. She hadn’t even noticed it. “If anything, you can carry it before you to hide the stain. I’ve secured a place for us to stay, as well. Let’s go.”
    Things were moving so fast her head spun. He dropped the cloak about her shoulders, but, alas, it failed to cover the hideous soil. She would have to carry it.
    “A moment, s’il vous plaît, ” he said softly. “I’ve one other thing for you.” He presented a box bearing a new pair of very fine gloves.
    The gesture caught Kendra so off guard unexpected tears filled her eyes. But what woman wouldn’t weep at such thoughtfulness? Suddenly, marrying him seemed the right thing to do. Kendra blinked back the moisture. Rattled, she fired questions at him, not daring to look at him lest he see what an emotional fool she was. “How did we get here? Did you see any of the villains? They obviously knocked us out somehow. Although that doesn’t make sense—we were on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic…” Her voice trailed off.
    “Where’s the doll?”
    “The doll? She’s—” Glad of the distraction, Kendra ran back to the stall and grabbed her up from where she’d placed her for safekeeping.
    “Come.”

Chapter Seven
    Fifteen minutes later, stunned, Kendra found herself a married woman. Joseph walked beside her in silence, loaded down with a host of packages. She studied the town, with its townspeople meandering in and out of the different shops, and thought of Mr. Thomas. He’d been a warm and generous soul.
    What was it he’d said about words