So Fair a Lady (Daughters of His Kingdom Book 1)

by Amber Lynn Perry

  A dreadful silence followed. “I don’t believe it. It can’t actually have been Eliza.” Another long silence. “Can you tell me . . .” Samuel’s voice cracked. “Can you tell me what she looked like? Did she have any features that make her stand out to you? I have to know if that woman really was Miss Campbell.”

  “She had brown hair and brown eyes. I do remember she had a small mole on her left cheekbone, but nothing else stands out to me. She was extraordinarily beautiful.”

  “Oh dear God, it was Eliza.” Samuel’s boots shuffled against the wood floor. “Was there anyone traveling with her? Was she alone?”

  “No. Her sister was traveling with her. And there was a man, he claimed to be their brother.”

  Thomas looked up, biceps flexing. Did he have to reveal everything?

  “What did this man and the sister do? Did they bury her here?” Samuel’s dark voice was laced with venom.

  “No. I don’t know where they went, but they took her with them.”

  Samuel cursed again under his breath. “Come, Donaldson.”

  Donaldson! He was the one who’d attempted to take Thomas when all of this began. Thomas clenched his fists so hard he winced. This could not be happening.

  “What are you going to do?” Nathaniel questioned.

  “That man has committed copious crimes for which he must stand trial. Worst of all, he has kidnapped the woman I love, and now he is responsible for her death! Not to mention the fact that he killed another man who tried to help her escape him. What am I going to do? I plan to find him. Then kill him.”

  The door opened again, letting in a stream of cold night air that scraped its way up Thomas’s body. How in the world could he possibly know about what happened? And what’s worse, he thinks I killed her! His hands trembled and he pressed his teeth together until his jaw ached.

  The other sailor.

  Nathaniel ushered the soldiers out of the room, bidding them goodnight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  As Samuel and Donaldson prodded out of the house, Thomas could hear his enemy speaking loud and coarse to his companion. Soon their voices trailed away as they walked down the street, most likely toward Newcomb Tavern.

  Thomas’s mind whirled, ferocious as a late-summer gale. How long would they be in town? How in heaven’s name would he get safely home to the girls? They couldn’t be left alone for a second.

  The lock clicked in place and Nathaniel’s steps beat against the floor as he stomped back to the study. Only then did Thomas ease out of his hiding space, realizing for the first time how tense his muscles were.

  “How in the world could he know all of that? And to think that I—” The words tasted so bitter he couldn’t speak them. “Could this get any worse?”

  Nathaniel shook his head and looked in the direction of the door. His jaw ticked. “I don’t honestly think it can. I have a feeling you’ll have to find a way to enjoy that house of yours. You won’t be leaving it for quite some time. Not until those two have left town. And even then . . .”

  Thomas whirled toward the fire, his emotions scorching any bits of reason left within him. He turned to his friend, blinding anger pummeling him. “Why did you have to say she died? Why did you have to identify her so perfectly?”

  Nathaniel stood taller and stepped toward Thomas, slamming the candle on the desk. “I was put on the spot. What would you have me say?” He walked to the large chair behind his desk and sat with a disgruntled humph. He threw his hands in the air. “If I had to do it over again, I would probably say something different, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

  Thomas disposed an ounce of his misplaced indignation and redirected it at a more appropriate recipient. Samuel. “He will not stop until he’s found me.”

  Both men remained mute, absorbed by the towering obstacle. Nathaniel’s tapping foot against the hard floor matched the rhythm of Thomas’s own nervous shuffling across the length of the study.

  “While there are soldiers in town you’ll not be able to leave your house.”

  “We’ve established that,” Thomas said over his shoulder.

  “Since you haven’t been in town regularly anyway that won’t be much of a problem. However, I suggest making your situation appear as far from the truth as possible—just in case people start asking questions.”

  A spark of something flashed across Nathaniel’s eyes. Thomas grumbled. His friend was about to say something that would shock him.

  “What is it, Nathaniel?”

  “You need to allow people to think you are married to Eliza.”

  The impact of Nathaniel’s statement produced the same effect as if he’d been shoved. “Pardon me? How in the world would that make any bit of difference?”

  Nathaniel tried to pull down a mischievous smile that tugged on his lips. “Well, that way if anyone asks questions about ‘that man in the house at the edge of town’ I will have some substantial story to tell them. You’re newly married and your wife is recovering from a miscarriage or something so you are at her side day and night. I won’t use your real names, of course. That way you can eliminate any scrutiny that you might otherwise have to endure. The soldiers will be looking for someone who is unmarried. People in town will believe anything I tell them. I see everyone, I know everything.”

  Thomas closed his eyes. Ridiculous. But, perhaps his friend had a point.

  “I hate to willfully spread lies.” Thomas thought for another moment then laughed with a sliver of acquiescence. “Though the risk is too great otherwise. I suppose you’re right.”

  Beaming, Nathaniel sat straighter. “Of course I’m right.” He rose from his chair, glowing with self-satisfaction and came toward Thomas. “All you have to do now is find a way to tell the ladies.”

  Thomas lowered his head and peered ruefully into the radiating embers.

  Nathaniel laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can see that you carry the responsibility very heavily, Thomas. None of this is your fault.”

  “I have to keep my distance from Eliza—and Kitty—for their own good. The sooner they can get back to Boston, the better.”

  Nathaniel bumped his back against the wall next to the fire. “Well, seeing as how Eliza will be your wife, she may not ever care to leave.” His voice bled sarcasm.

  Thomas fought the urge to smack him. “I better be going.” He walked down the darkened hall toward the back door. Nathaniel followed him through the narrow hallway, the glowing candle painting the walls with light.

  “How will you get home? Samuel could very likely still be on the street.” Nathaniel asked.

  “I’ll go the back way.”

  Thomas reached the door and put his hand on the cold handle, but before he turned it Nathaniel touched his arm.

  “Since you’ll be sequestered from now on, I’ll be by more often. You can tell me what you need. The supplies, food, etcetera. If it’s all right with you, I’ll be by tomorrow sometime to hear how the girls take the news.”

  “What news?” Thomas spat.

  Nathaniel’s jeering tone relaxed Thomas’s startled nerves. “The news about your marriage. What else?”

  “You are allowing people to believe that you and I are married?” Eliza could not believe the words that poured from her mouth. More than that, she could not believe the flutter of pleasure that spun behind her heart at such a shocking proclamation.

  Thomas leaned against the table and gripped the oak with his palms, drumming on the bottom of it with his fingers.

  “Yes,” he answered. “Knowing that they are still looking for us makes this a useful cover.” His harsh tone grated against her fragile security.

  Pulling a long piece of brown yarn from her shawl, Eliza twisted and untwisted it around her little finger. She didn’t know what to say. Thomas had left earlier in such a storm she’d feared she’d done something to offend him. And when it was several hours before his return, both she and Kitty feared something had happened.
r />   And apparently it had.

  He’d rushed into the house ten minutes earlier in a burst of cold air and stomped up the stairs to tell them of his dreadful adventure at Nathaniel’s.

  It was just as they had suspected. Soldiers were looking for the man who had killed the sailor. Now none of them could leave the house for fear of being apprehended. The news came as quite a blow and renewed her harbored fears.

  “I’m sorry, Eliza,” Thomas said.” I should have asked you before, but this has two benefits. It will hopefully make us less likely targets for attention. And, it will be better for your reputation should things get around. I wouldn’t want to blemish your good name, or Kitty’s. We’ll have to stay here for much longer than expected, and none of us can leave the house. Once this is over, I promise to return you to Boston where you belong.”

  Eliza looked up from her busy fingers. She tried to place an encouraging smile on her face but nothing came. He wanted to get rid of her. What had happened? Before this he’d been warm and caring, but now he was as cold as the ocean in winter.

  She tried to press away the rattle of her distracting feelings and fight the marvelous tumbling in her middle. Even though it wasn’t a real proposal, her heart leapt as if it were. What was wrong with her? This was no time to be considering such things when their very lives were in danger. She kept her gaze down and shielded her expression. Foolish girl.

  “I understand, Thomas,” Eliza said, after a minute of dreadful silence. She focused again on the string. “And I thank you for being so forthright.”

  Thomas let out a loud exhale and pushed off the table with perceptible impatience. Eliza slumped against the pillows.

  “I’ll leave you now. I know you need some rest,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

  Kitty came up the stairs, her expression drawn and arms hugging her chest. She climbed onto the bed next to Eliza and lay on her back. “So, we’re to be here indefinitely it seems.”

  “No, not indefinitely, but certainly longer than anticipated.”

  “I overhead Thomas’s new plan.” Sighing, Kitty gripped Eliza’s hand. “At least this unfortunate arrangement has been made more enjoyable by your pseudo nuptials. I think it’s a marvelous idea and certainly gives me plenty to tease you about.” She winked as her lips quirked in a wry grin.

  Eliza squeezed Kitty’s fingers before pulling her hand away. “I don’t find it funny.”

  “I can’t see why not.” Kitty rolled off the bed, closed the door, and began changing into her nightgown. “And please don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean to make light of something so serious. But this budding romance brings a much needed bit of brevity to an otherwise dreadful circumstance.” She giggled as she finished with the three small buttons on the front of her gown. “Thomas is very nice, and you have to admit, ridiculously handsome.”

  Yes, Eliza could admit that. But she wouldn’t. She rested her head behind her on the sweet smelling pillows and gazed at the ceiling. Kitty needed to stop reading her beloved Shakespeare and getting such silly ideas in her head, then perhaps they could be done discussing this once and for all.

  But still, Thomas’s honey-smooth voice, his broad shoulders, and a smile that reached into Eliza’s soul, flooded every thought. Samuel’s nearness had never made her heart react the way Thomas did.

  The memory of Samuel’s three kisses floated around her mind. Nothing. No butterflies. No longing for more.

  Her breath flickered. What would it be like to kiss Thomas? She placed a hand over her mouth and tried to shake away the enticing thoughts. How could she even entertain such a notion? Grabbing the yarn she once again started circling her finger. Thomas cared nothing for her. This temporary situation would last only a few more weeks. After that she and Kitty would be home and safe from the terrible wrong that hunted them. That was for the best. Thomas only did this out of the duty he felt he must fulfill on their behalf.

  I’ll do well to remember that. But the pit that tunneled within her stomach told her such a task would be impossible.

  Eliza’s eyes shot open and she gripped the fabric at her chest. She choked on her breath and worked to calm her erratic pulse. Dreadful nightmare. The cold air was silent, only the sound of Kitty’s soft breathing whispered through the room—a drastic contrast to the terrible screams that still wailed in her head. Memories from long ago lived fresh in her mind like an ever-blooming bush, ready to share the tragedies of the past whether she wanted them or not. The cold, the fear—all so real, made the hairs on her arms shoot up. If only she had done for Peter what was best. If only she had known what to do.

  Eliza placed her palm over her face and shook her head. It had been over a year since her last bout with such dreams, and here they were again to haunt her. Father’s words tried to squeeze past the dominating thoughts. He’d said it wasn’t her fault, that God had taken Peter because it was his time.

  Assailed by grief, Eliza pushed back the covers as carefully as she could. She had to get out of bed. She had to get a change of scenery and clear her mind of the deafening cries in her head. Using careful movements, she pulled her legs from under the covers and rested her feet on the frigid hardwood floors. She tugged on a pair of stockings to help shield her toes from the cold, but the thin fabric did little to help warm her. It may be only October, but the temperatures at night bit like January. Gritting her teeth, she pushed off the bed and wrapped the heavy brown shawl around her shivering shoulders.

  Every step sent a stab of pain through her belly, and yet the movements brought breath to her limbs in a way she hadn’t experienced in weeks. The stairs were hard and noisy. She winced with every creaking telltale step, praying that her jaunt downstairs would go undetected.

  Once at her destination, her lips stretched into a wide, mischievous grin. She’d made it, and already the journey down the stairs had been the best medicine she’d received in days. The logs in the fireplace glowed, though no flames ascended. If she were to stay down here for any length of time, the fire would need to be built again, to usher away the creeping chill. Keeping one hand on the rocky fireplace to steady herself, she gazed across the room. The central fireplace dominated the large front area, framed by a beautiful wood mantel. Two inviting chairs rested in front of the fire, and a small table nestled between them. A simple patterned carpet dressed the smooth wood floor. There was little in the way of decoration. The only items were two long muskets mounted above the mantel and the candlesticks and books that relaxed on the lowboy near the wall next to the kitchen.

  This home was indeed pleasant, comforting, but it lacked a woman’s touch. If this were her home . . .

  Foolish girl! This would never be hers. Why would it? She had a home in Boston—a home she loved and missed. Didn’t she?

  The air that clouded around her pinched at her ears and toes. She looked at the fire then at the stack of logs resting a few feet away. After the short rest, Eliza gathered her strength. She would be a fool to try to lift anything at all, let alone a heavy piece of wood. But if she managed, the fire would be just big enough to ease away the shivers. Wary of going too fast, she stepped forward and reached for the stack.

  “What are you doing?”

  Eliza yelped and turned so abruptly at the sound of Thomas’s voice that she lost her footing. She flayed her arms behind her to catch her fall. Instead of hard ground, two muscular arms caught below her shoulders.

  She scrunched her face and bit her cheek to fight away the pain that ripped through her abdomen.

  With a tender hold, Thomas scooped her up and without a word carried her to the nearest chair, then set her down as if she weighed no more than a pillow.

  She dare not look at him, though she could feel his gaze burning into the top of her hair. The pain in her side was nothing to the pain her pride had suffered.

  “Really, Eliza. Where is your reason?” His tone of rebuke was painted with concern.

  Eliza built up her bravery and lifted her l
ashes. Her lungs froze and she held her teeth together to keep her chin from dropping. Whatever pain she experienced diminished to a low throbbing at the sight before her.

  Thomas’s dark hair fell just above his shoulders, accentuating the perfect cut of his jaw and the strength of his shoulders. The light blue banyan he wore remained open above the waist revealing a white nightshirt and his solid chest beneath.

  She dipped her head again, the glare in his eyes admitting to his frustration.

  He walked over to the other chair, and instead of sitting like she expected, he pulled it over the floor, until it was only a few inches from hers. He put three more logs on the fire and stoked it. Then he sat. And stared at her.

  Heavens! She froze. What should she do? What should she say? The divine fluttering sensations that Thomas stirred within her had a commanding presence, making them impossible to ignore. He was impossible to ignore. Being alone in such circumstances was highly improper. She could only hope Kitty would remain sleeping to avoid being caught in such a situation. Then again, perhaps Kitty’s presence would make it easier to get up and leave.

  Eliza swallowed the bulging nerves that rose in her throat and did her best to act normal. “I’m sorry. I guess I have lost my reason of late.” She paused. “I just needed a change of scenery.”

  Thomas tilted his head and his eyebrows folded. “Are you alright? What are you doing down here at this time of night?”

  The tenderness in his eyes reached out to caress her, releasing innumerable butterflies within her belly, which soon consumed her entire body. How did he do that? How did he make her feel this marvelous? It only made it more difficult to remember she couldn’t stay, to remember that this arrangement was a burden to him. Thomas had made that clear with how displeased he was at the idea of being “married”.

  A terrible loneliness killed the flutters in her chest. She looked into the fire and without warning, the words poured from her.

  “I was dreaming about my brother again.” She stopped, emotions still skidding down the slippery ravine of her memory.