A Grave Inheritance

by Kari Edgren

  All is well could not have been more clear—the king had been placated and we needn’t run away to France. But what in heaven’s name did he mean by mentioning Cate? I had followed her up the stairs last night after returning from the bakehouse. At the time she mumbled about being too tired for even a hot bath after such a long day. Certainly she couldn’t have had a hand in soothing the king. Could she? I tugged at my lip, trying to find the connection through a growing haze of exhaustion.

  “Everything alright, miss?” Sophie asked curiously.

  I snapped my head up from the letter, startled to see her still there. “Yes, everything is fine.”

  Sophie came closer and peered into my face. “You look bone-weary this morning, miss.” Her gaze drifted over my gown. “And no wonder, with you still dressed from the party. Did you close your eyes at all last night?”

  I looked down at my rumpled skirts. “I slept a little in the chair.”

  She gave me a kind smile, one that belonged more to a grandmother than Sophie’s youthful face. “A few winks in a chair doesn’t make a good night’s sleep.” She patted my arm. “Turn around and I’ll undo your laces. Lady Dinley is also sleeping late this morning, so you won’t be in bad company.”

  Her fingers worked deftly, and in no time she had me sitting on the edge of the bed in my shift. “Lay your head down, miss, and we’ll get you properly tucked.”

  With a thick yawn, I sank into the mattress and let Sophie draw the covers to my chin.

  All is well. A calming tincture could not have soothed my nerves more than those three simple words in Henry’s letter. The remainder, though, continued to befuddle me. Give my sincerest appreciation to Cate. What had he meant by that?

  Another yawn escaped. “By any chance did Lady Dinley go out again last night after we came home?”

  “Yes, miss, one of the orphans brought word that her ladyship was needed back at the palace. I just put her to bed an hour ago when she returned.”

  Startled, I pushed up onto my elbows. “Did she say what happened?”

  “Something about saving your life and averting civil war, but I didn’t get the particulars.”

  My heart thudded a quick beat. Throwing the covers back, I started to sit up. “I should talk to her.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Sophie said, so sharply I stopped mid-motion. “Her ladyship is exhausted, and will not be woken for any reason.”

  Guilt rolled over me. “Of course. I will speak with her later.”

  Sophie’s voice softened. “Rest now, miss. There will be time enough for answers once you’ve both had some sleep.” She returned the blankets to my chin.

  “Sincerest appreciation, indeed,” I murmured once the door clicked shut. Cate had saved me three times now, and as I drifted into darkness, her face floated through my dreams with the dazzling brilliance of a guardian angel.

  * * *

  The second message arrived shortly after noon. Rejuvenated from a few hours of sleep, only the remembrance of Sophie’s temper kept me from running straight to Cate’s room for a detailed accounting. Instead, I went in search of Nora, anxious to relay all the sordid details of Amelia’s behavior last night. I smiled inwardly, envisioning how Nora’s eyes would snap in my defense, and the inevitable droll remarks that would buoy my spirits like nothing else. She would also want to hear every detail of how Henry had challenged an entire room of men to a duel. Since Quakers were pacifists, it could be downright shocking how much Nora loved tales of a good fight, and I had often wondered if she held more in common with her pirate grandfather than either of her parents.

  Leaving a knock on the door, I turned the knob and peeked into the room. It was empty, with the bed made and the drapes tied back for the day. Not that I expected to find her still abed, lollygagging in her nightdress. I had just hoped she would be writing letters or reading one of the novels from Cate’s expansive library.

  Back in the hallway, I heard Lucy Goodwin’s animated voice drift up from the drawing room. Thinking to find Nora with her mother, I made it to the bottom step when a footman handed me a letter. Gray hair frosted his temples and his pasty face held none of the liveliness of the younger footman who had taken to flirting with my maid.

  “Left by Lord Ftizalan’s footman, miss,” he said, in an insipid tone that evoked images of stale bread.

  I glanced at the familiar seal and my stomach fluttered with anticipation. “When did it arrive?”

  “About two hours ago, miss, but Sophie gave strict orders that you were not to be disturbed unless the house was afire.” He bowed and turned to leave.

  I waited until I was alone again before tearing the letter open. Skimming the salutation, my heart dropped at the first line.

  My Dearest Selah,

  I leave London this morning on an errand for my father. I shall return in four days, at which time I expect to receive news regarding our future.

  Ever yours,

  Henry

  I blinked and re-read the letter. Four days! What could be so blasted important that Henry would willingly leave for four days? My heart revived somewhat from the remainder of his letter, if an anxious jolt could be classified as such. What sort of news? Once Henry returned, we would discuss his sparseness of words, first in regards to Cate and now with the expected news. Until then, all I could do was follow Cate’s advice to hope for the best, while preparing for the worst. With a sigh, I tucked the letter into my pocket and continued to the drawing room.

  Lucy sat in an armchair, her face lively as she spoke to a dark-haired gentleman who occupied the sofa with his back to me. If I hadn’t been so distracted from Henry’s letter, I would have recognized the guest and left the room at once. Not yet perceiving my peril, I walked on, catching both of their attention with my sudden appearance.

  “Good afternoon, Selah,” Lucy said, giving me a pointed look. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes—” I came to an abrupt halt when my eyes settled on the dark-haired gentleman.

  Julian stood and walked over to me, his gaze fixed on my face. “It is very good to see you again, Selah.” Taking my hand, he brought it to his lips for a lingering kiss.

  I stared at him, dumbfounded by his presence. “What are you doing here?”

  He lowered my hand from his mouth, but refused to let go until I pulled it away. “I came to see if you were recovered from last night.”

  Heat crept up my neck, into my cheeks. “I am sufficiently recovered, thank you.” I looked at Lucy. “Do you know where I may find Nora?”

  A smile chased the sternness from Lucy’s face. “Oh, Selah, the most amazing thing has happened this morning.” She clasped her hands together, displaying a giddy excitement quite foreign to her usual stolid disposition. “Please sit with us and I shall tell you every detail.”

  I opened my mouth in protest, only to snap it closed for lack of a good excuse. And I really did want to know Nora’s whereabouts.

  Julian placed a firm hand on my elbow. “This way, Selah. You may sit next to me while Lucy recounts the events from this morning. I’ve heard only the beginning and am anxious for the rest.”

  My body stiffened with anger, but I followed him all the same, having little choice under Lucy’s watchful eye.

  He didn’t let go until we were both seated on the sofa, much closer than I expected. Then again, the unexpected seemed to be how it went with Julian. Not once in my wildest dreams did I think him brazen enough to call on me so soon. Yet here we were, sitting side-by-side like intimate acquaintances.

  Turning a contemptuous eye to him, my breath caught from the sight of the linen bandage wrapped around his left hand. I continued to stare, my eyes growing round as saucers. Last night I convinced myself that he had received nothing more serious than a strong shock from my outburst. But the bandage said otherwise. />
  Heavens above! What have I done?

  Julian leaned closer and flexed his hand. “As you can see, I am still recovering from our encounter,” he murmured.

  I yanked my eyes away from the bandage and pinned them on Lucy. “So, what is the wonderful news?” I asked, in a voice as tight as my smile.

  “You won’t believe it!” Lucy’s face glowed with excitement. “Right after breakfast a young lady called here for Nora. At first we thought it must be Jane Saxby, so you can imagine our surprise when we found a Quaker woman waiting in the drawing room.” Lucy clasped her hands together again.

  “I have heard the beginning twice now,” Julian laughed, “and I still do not know the identity of this mysterious woman. Pray tell, Lucy, what is her name?”

  “She is none less than Margaret Fox, the great niece of George Fox.”

  That name made me sit up a little straighter. “The George Fox?” I asked, my astonishment now matching Lucy’s. “The one who founded the Quakers?”

  Lucy nodded. “The very one. And she asked if Nora could accompany her today on her service rounds.”

  The sofa cushion shifted as Julian crossed one leg over the other. “You are so newly arrived to London, it is astounding that Margaret Fox knew where to find you.”

  Astounding, indeed, unless Nora’s name had been added alongside mine in the local gossip. “Did they meet somewhere?”

  “At the apothecary on our second day in town,” Lucy said. “I had stopped to listen to a street preacher when Nora went into the shop to fetch some headache powder.”

  “How odd,” Julian said, “that she didn’t mention the encounter until today. I would not have kept such a name secret.”

  I glanced at him and saw the shadow of doubt in his face.

  Lucy waved a dismissive hand. “Fox is a common surname in England. Nora didn’t make the connection at the time, and so felt no need to mention their meeting.”

  “Well,” Julian said, “that is a lucky twist of fate if I’ve ever heard one.” He turned to look at me. “What do you think, Selah? Are you as astounded as I by this revelation?”

  “Most certainly,” I said, in direct contradiction to my real thoughts. Nora’s good fortune was my misfortune as it left me friendless for the day. “When do you expect them to return? I would love to meet Margaret.”

  Lucy’s expression turned contemplative. “Not until evening at the earliest. You see, Margaret makes daily visits to the old and infirm members of our Society to ensure that they are all properly cared for. And she mentioned attending a sermon tonight at an elder’s home.”

  A thin strand of jealousy wound its way around me. With Henry gone from London, and Nora out for the day, I felt quite abandoned.

  “When we first left Hopewell,” Lucy confided, “I feared that more harm than good would come of this trip. And now my daughter is doing the Lord’s work with George Fox’s great niece.” She beamed at us, while waving a hand at her face for lack of a fan. “It is all so exciting, I feel quite worked up about it.”

  This was a strong reaction from the woman who hadn’t batted an eye at Henry’s lordship or upon learning of my private interview with the King of England. She saved her raptures instead for the great niece of a dissenting preacher, who had spent much of his life at odds with both religious and civic authority. Not that I blamed her. My father revered George Fox for his quick mind and simple teachings, and had raised me to believe the same.

  “Did Margaret mention going out again tomorrow?” I asked. “If so, I would like to join them.”

  Lucy frowned and some of the sternness returned to her face. “She did mention a great need amongst the people, but I’m afraid you will have to rise before noon if you wish to participate.”

  My shoulders fell from her rebuke, and for a moment I felt returned to the Goodwin’s kitchen where Nora and I had often been scolded for any manner of youthful infractions. “I can manage that well enough,” I mumbled, before clamping my lips closed to avoid saying anything more. No matter how many years I gained, some things never seemed to change.

  Silence prevailed, and I started to rise when Julian placed a restraining hand on my arm. “No doubt,” he said to Lucy, “the folks back home will want to know all about this new acquaintance with Margaret Fox. If you wish to write a letter, I will post it myself this afternoon.”

  His suggestion immediately took hold. “Why yes, I think you are right, Julian.” Lucy stood, and gave him a look of adoration. “You are very kind to offer your assistance. I will write to my husband this very moment and ask that he share the news in meeting.”

  Julian also stood. “It is my pleasure. I shall wait here for your return.”

  Lucy swept around the sofa toward the French doors. I jumped up to follow when Julian caught hold of my elbow again. “Stay a moment,” he murmured.

  Yanking my elbow away, I shot him a sharp glance. “Give me one good reason why.”

  Julian held up his bandaged hand in response. “Because I want you to heal this.”

  A stab of remorse pierced my anger. “I am so sorry, Julian. Nothing like this has ever happened before. I...I don’t know what came over me.” His gaze became too much, and I hung my head in shame.

  “Selah, please sit down so we can talk. I promise not to repeat my actions from last night.”

  He spoke in earnest, and I peeked at him through my lashes. “Just for a minute,” I said, relenting.

  Julian sat, and unwinding the bandage, moved his hand in front of me.

  I gasped from the damage. The entire palm was swollen and covered in watery blisters, as though it had been pressed flat against a hot stove. Having been severely burned myself last summer, I could well imagine his pain.

  “Oh, Julian...” I choked past the sudden tightness in my throat. “How can you ever forgive me?”

  “There is nothing to forgive. I forced myself upon you, and you acted in self-defense.”

  Cate had said the same thing, yet hearing it from Julian did much more to assuage my guilt. “Give me your hand. I won’t have you suffer a moment longer on my account.” With no need to hide my gift, I bathed his hand in power until no sign of the damage remained.

  He flexed his fingers, admiring the healed skin. “Your gift is miraculous.”

  “Thank you.” I started to rise from the sofa. “I should go now.”

  He caught my arm. “Why are you leaving? Please don’t say that you are frightened to be alone with me.”

  I shook my head. “I am frightened of what Henry will do once he learns you have called on me. The fact that I needed to heal your hand should calm his temper somewhat, but anything more than that and I fear for your safety.”

  Julian gave me an amused look. “Lord Fitzalan does not concern me.”

  “Then you are a fool,” I snapped, “since he threatened to cleave you from neck to navel when I told him what happened in the garden.”

  Contrary to my expectation, Julian’s mouth turned up at the corners. “He sees me as a threat. Otherwise he would never have made such a statement.” His smile grew wider. “I consider myself honored by the attention.”

  Alarmed, I grabbed hold of his hand. “Julian, you mustn’t take his words lightly. I’ve seen Henry fight before. You’re no match for his skill.”

  Julian’s fingers closed around mine, and his signet ring scraped my knuckle. I glanced down at the golden seal of the demi lion rampant imposed over the letter S.

  “And I shall take your concern as a sign of your true feelings for me,” he said softly.

  My mouth tightened with annoyance. “Please don’t Julian. My feelings for you are as a sister to a brother. You will only drive us apart by insisting on more.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he refused to let go.

  His eyes appeared almost black as he
stared at me, and I was struck yet again by the fine features that lent him a sort of unearthly beauty. Though I would never give breath to the words, last May I would have considered myself lucky if Julian had been the cousin I was meant to wed. But that man had died at sea, and then everything changed the moment I met Henry.

  The mantel clock chimed once for the hour. I gave my head a quick shake to clear the errant thoughts.

  “Selah, may I at least hope that someday you will return my feelings?”

  I disliked hurting him, but ignoring the truth would cause greater pain for both of us in the future. “The only reason you have not already been challenged by Henry is because he knows how much your loss would hurt me. He understands why you proposed to me, since that is the custom for our kind. But he will not be so forgiving another time.” My expression turned stony. “And neither will I.”

  A shadow darkened Julian’s face as the hope gave way to anger in his eyes. “Did you tell him about me?” he demanded.

  I took a slow, steadying breath, trying to keep my own anger at bay. “Henry might not be like us, but he is the best man I know and he will never betray my trust.”

  Julian released my hand, practically tossing it back in my lap. “You are a fool to trust him. Yet it appears I am the greater fool for trusting you.”

  I flinched from the insult. “That is entirely unfair! After the stunt you pulled in the garden, Henry had every right to know the truth.”

  Julian snorted, and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Rest assured, Selah, your betrayal has repaid me tenfold.”

  “Oh!” I cried, clenching my teeth in frustration. “Why must you be so difficult? By swearing me to silence, your secret became my lie, and I won’t lie to Henry. Not anymore.”

  Our eyes remained locked in battle. Footsteps crossed the foyer, and we stood up a split second before Lucy came into the room.

  “Here it is,” she said, coming toward us.