The English Lily (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) Read Online Free PDF

don’t know, sir. She won’t speak of it. She just pretends nothin’ ever happened.”
    Joseph drew Kendra’s hand into his, brushed a forefinger over the tiny scars. “What about these? Do you know about these?” He turned her palm up. Dried blood drops stained the tip of her middle finger, explaining the scrap of fabric secured in his pocket.
    “No, my lord.” Louisa smiled, a self-deprecating turn of the lips. “Lady Kendra is not the sort to invite questions, if you know what I mean.”
    He flashed a quick grin her way, though worry consumed him. Kendra was a puzzling minx. On the one hand, he was quite certain to have figured her out as the spoiled debutante daughter of the Earl of Macclesfield, impulsive to act with no thought to anyone besides herself. On the other, she was young and lost, a waif rousing his instinct to protect. “I quite know what you mean, Louisa.”

Chapter Five
    The next day those cool showers turned into a tumultuous storm, tossing the vessel like a toy boat in a copper tub. The day was long, and Kendra’s fever raged.
    Joseph was at a loss. The one doctor aboard left him shuddering with nightmares at the incompetence. Most of the passengers were seasick and cabin bound. It would assure Kendra her solitude— if she came out of this alive. He pushed such thoughts away. She had to live. She was too young, too strong, too beautiful.
    Joseph cupped her heated face. Red spots dotted high on her cheeks, yet she remained pale about her mouth, her skin translucent. “Come back, Lady Kendra. Please don’t die. I shall keep you safe,” he whispered.
    He scrubbed a palm over his stubble of beard and reached for the cloth, then dipped it in the basin for what seemed the thousandth time. The words she’d called out played over in his head: “Please don’t!” and “I’m trying.” There’d been no other such outbursts, but it was clear she’d suffered something traumatic. Her father doted on her. Could he know what she’d endured?
    “What are you afraid of, Lady Kendra?” he asked softly. Joseph stood and stretched. His gaze found the odd gypsy doll, and he wandered over and picked it up.
    The door opened and shut quietly. “I’ve brung you something to eat, my lord. And…and broth, in case…” Louisa swallowed her tears. “In case Lady Kendra wakes and is hungry.”
    “ Merci ,” he said. “Did you eat, Louisa?”
    “Oh, no, my lord. I couldn’t poss—”
    “Eat,” he commanded. “We shall all get past this.” He put out a palm when she started to argue. “I said eat, s’il vous plaît . We must keep up our strength for Lady Kendra.”
    “Of course, my lord. Thank you, my lord.”
    “And, quit ‘my lord’ing me, s’il vous plaît. ”
    “Yes, my—” She stopped. “Yes, sir.”
    Kendra began thrashing about, and Joseph rushed to the bed, doll still in hand. He lowered himself to her side and touched her forehead. A tingle shot from the arm encircling the doll and through his chest to the fingertips resting on Kendra’s burning face.
    Seconds later, the flush subsided and her cheeks cooled into a clammy sweat. The sweet sound of a dry-croaked voice. “Louisa? Water, please.”
    “Oh, thank the heavens, milady.”
    Joseph let out a slow breath, not daring to believe his ears. He laid the doll beside Kendra and filled a cup with tea. He lifted her head, encouraging her to sip. Something shimmered in the atmosphere he couldn’t identify, but Louisa’s prayer resonated deeply within him.
    “Lord Lawrie?” She frowned. “What on earth are you doing in my quarters?”
    Joseph ignored her weak outrage. The rush of relief that surged through him had him blinking quickly, and he let Louisa answer for him.
    “You’ve been terribly ill, milady. Lord—M-Mr. Gray, here, has seen you through the worst.”
    Kendra tried to sit, but was too feeble to manage it. “You must leave, sir—you look awful. Have you had no rest, yourself?”
    He pressed his hand into her