"Where is he?" Kendra whispered, her hands pressed to her heart as if to keep it from breaking in two. "I have to see him."

"I don't think that would be wise, my dear. It was such a great fall. You would not recognize him-" He took a step toward her but she jerked away.

The doctor stopped and then turned toward his black bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out a bottle and poured some of the liquid into a cup of tea that was sitting on a small, round table and had grown cold. "Come, Lady Kendra, drink this. It will help calm you." He coaxed her into a sitting position and pressed the cup into her hands. She lifted it to her lips, not caring what it was. After a few moments a lethargic weakness came over her. Her arms grew tired and leaden, her legs too shaky to stand upon. Doctor Radley took her arm and helped her up to her bedchamber. He tucked the blanket under her chin and promised, "I will come back and check on you soon. Try and get some rest."

Kendra closed her eyes as silent tears rushed, one after the other, down her temples and into her hair. After a while, the numbness settled over her entire body and she was left with a barren emptiness that reached to her soul. The grief pitted in her stomach like iron to a lodestone but a languid tiredness overcame her body as the doctor's sleeping draught took full effect. She allowed her heavy, swollen eyelids to drop and she slept.

The days following the funeral blurred together in a numb stupor. The whole village had turned out at St. Nicholas Parish Church to say farewell to their kind master. Kendra wandered about the estate in a lost way, with the vacant hole in her heart deadening the blue of her eyes. Her uncle Andrew took up his place as the new Earl of Arundel, but she rarely saw him, even at dinner time. He was locked away in her father's library. Doing what, she did not know.

Months after that horrible day, Andrew called Kendra into the library and bade her to sit down. Her uncle took the seat behind her father's ma.s.sive desk. She could hardly look at him there, where her father should be. When she did look up, Andrew's gaze was impa.s.sive while her father's had been kind and so full of love for her.

"You must have something terrible to tell me since I've barely had the comfort of your presence," she said in a dead voice. She was so tired, nothing seemed to matter anymore.

"Not terrible, my dear, and I'm sorry I've been so absent. I miss him too, you know."

"You do?" It didn't seem so.

"Of course I do. Now, I have had to decide upon your future and we need to discuss a few things." Andrew cleared his throat and took on a lecturing mien. "After giving the matter a great deal of thought, I've concluded that it is time you marry. This has been too hard on you, hard on us all as you know, and I believe the best way to put your father's death behind you and move forward with your life would be to have a family of your own." He stared down at her. "No, don't give me that look. A husband with some little ones along the way is the obvious answer." He paused here and looked down at the papers on his desk, shuffling them around a bit. "As you know we cannot afford a London season and all the fripperies that it would entail, so we must proceed in a quieter manner. I a.s.sure you, my dear, I will do my best to find someone suitable to your station."

"And what does 'proceeding in a quieter manner' consist of?" Kendra asked. She could hardly endure the thought of men calling on her.

"I have put forth word, in an offhanded way of course, that I am seeking a suitor for my niece. I'm rather hoping that some of your past suitors come up to scratch."

"My past suitors?" Kendra exclaimed. "What suitors?"

"Your father must have failed to tell you of the offers he had for your hand. In his foolish attempt to keep you with him as long as possible, he turned them all down. Now, considering our present, er, situation, a suitor will be more difficult to find."

Kendra paled. Her father had wanted her to marry. Maybe what Uncle Andrew said made a certain amount of sense. She had little desire to stay in the empty loneliness of the castle with an uncle that didn't seem to care for her company. Maybe a family of her own was the best solution. "How soon should you know something?"

Andrew smiled brightly, a little too bright for Kendra's peace of mind. "You should be pleased to know that I have been fortunate enough to already have an interested party."

Kendra disliked the way he spoke of the whole ordeal like she was something to be rid of rather than considering that this would be the most important decision of her life. "And who would that be?"

"His name is Lord Randall Barrymore. He owns a grand estate in Wilfortshire and a respectable fortune. Furthermore, he is coming to dinner tonight. If all goes as expected, we can sign the betrothal agreement and have you married before the summer is out."

"Before the summer is out?" Kendra rose to her feet. "How will I decide in such a short s.p.a.ce as that? I'll need time to meet these, these suitors and if, and only if, one of them is acceptable to me, then I will need further time to get to know him. I'll not marry a total stranger."

Her uncle's handsome face turned red as he set his teeth. It was not a pleasant look on him.

"Your father raised you to be entirely too independent, my dear," he grumbled in a low voice. "At any rate, thus far there hasn't been a very great response to my hints, actually next to none, so you will have to make the most of the situation and make yourself as pleasing as possible to those who have responded. Lord Barrymore is a fine catch and I a.s.sure you that you will have plenty of time to get to know the old man once you're married." He must have realized his slip of the tongue as he reddened further.

"Old man!" Kendra cried. "Surely you could find someone closer to my age."

"As I said before, the pickings have been slim." Her uncle's tone rapped sharp and impatient. "Wear a nice gown, not the black mourning frocks you've been moping about in and be on your best behavior for dinner."

Kendra gasped. "But I am in mourning. It would be scandalous to wear anything but black before a year is out."

Andrew leaned in and impaled her with his flashing blue eyes. "We do not have the time nor the resources to wait until a year is out. You will do as you are told, Kendra!"

Kendra's eyes widened at the rebuke. She had never been spoken to in such a harsh manner and felt a rush of shame as tears threatened her eyes.

Her uncle gentled his tone. "Kendra, please. I'm only doing what I think best. We do not have the most ideal circ.u.mstances and will have to make the most of it."

Kendra stood and curtsied but her soft answer parried like a sword. "Yes, but don't you ever forget who brought about those circ.u.mstances." The thrust rang true as Andrew's face blanched white. Kendra turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Of all the low down, horrid, mean spirited . . . . ugh! Kendra muttered to herself the entire way to her room. There weren't words in her vocabulary to heap onto her uncle's character. How had he turned out to be such an insensitive clod who hadn't a care for her feelings? Her father would have never allowed the situation to come to this. The gall, asking total strangers to come and look her over as if she were some prized mare. She had no doubts about what tonight was really about, however her uncle tried to disguise it. Oh! It was intolerable. Unbearable. She had to think of something.

She rushed into her room and rang for Tess, the kitchen maid who was good at arranging hair. Eyes narrowed, she sat down at her dressing table and scowled at her reflection. She had a couple of hours to come up with a plan. She wanted to hide until the old coot gave up and went home, but that wasn't really an option. Her uncle would only drag him back and she would have to face him sooner or later. She needed something more subtle.

Rummaging through her wardrobe she chose her plainest gown. All of her everyday dresses were getting a well-worn look to them, but she still had some formal gowns remade from her mother's clothes and she dared not be so blatant as to appear in anything else. She remembered how her father had insisted she keep her mother's things when over a year ago they sold most of their belongings to pay Uncle Andrew's debts. A kinder, dearer father never lived. The thought brought a lump of tears to her throat.

Tess arrived and rushed to her side. "Here, now, my lady. Let me help b.u.t.ton your gown." After finishing that task she led Kendra to the seat at her dressing table and started fussing over her hair. As she reached for a pair of pretty combs, Kendra shook her head and handed her plain ones. "Won't you at least let me run some ribbon in your hair?"

"No, Tess, I want to look my worst." She sighed as she contemplated her reflection. The gown was a dull gray, but it only seemed to enhance her violet-blue eyes. It had an unfashionably high neckline with small ruffles around the collar edged in lace. The sleeves were long, tight fitting with matching ruffles at the wrists. The cinched waist made her figure curvier than she liked. Her blonde hair was caught up in a severe bun at the nape of her neck, but a tiny wisp had already escaped to frame her face in a softening way. Kendra stuck out her tongue at her reflection and stood. Oh, well, she would just have to be as unpleasant as she could manage.

Tess threw up her hands. "Well, I've not seen you look worse."

"That's excellent news, Tess. Thank you."

Tess only shook her head and rushed out of the room to help prepare the meal.

A short time later Kendra was summoned to the green salon, one of the few rooms with furniture left in it. The dread in the pit of her stomach caused a strange churning sound. She hoped she wouldn't need to carry a chamber pot on her arm throughout the evening. She smiled at the thought, what an entrance that would make! Mayhap she should go back to her room and fetch it. With a shake of her head, she inched down the curving stairway and stopped just inside the door to survey the scene.

Her uncle looked up at her and frowned. Kendra held back the bubble of laughter that threatened to explode from her chest. He probably hadn't known Kendra owned anything so distasteful. He composed his angry expression, though, and came forward to lend his arm.

He led her over to a man who must be at least seventy if he was a day. His beady eyes surveyed her from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes peeping from beneath her gown. She stared back, chin up, looking down her nose at him in exaggerated distaste. He finally looked away, mopping his forehead with a lacy handkerchief. A cloying smell clung to him and made her want to gag. She didn't know if she should burst out laughing or crying. Lord Randall Barrymore was a terribly thin, slavering man with beady, darting eyes set in a red, splotchy face. Dear G.o.d, please get me out of this!

He took Kendra's hand, leaving it with a sloppy kiss, and stated in a nasal voice, "I am most pleased to meet you, Lady Townsend."

Kendra jerked her hand away and wiped it on her skirt. She turned her head away, ignoring his greeting, which caused Andrew to jab her in the ribs with his elbow. "The pleasure is mine, I'm sure." She didn't try to cover the sarcastic tone in her voice.

Andrew gulped down the drink in his hand as a servant announced that dinner was ready to be served. Her uncle hesitated and then offered Kendra his arm once again. He must have known she would ignore Lord Barrymore's arm, had he extended it.

"Shall we?" Uncle Andrew glared at her behind Lord Barrymore's back, despite his tight smile and jolly voice.

During the dinner, between tiny bites of food, Lord Barrymore boasted of his wealth, describing in detail his penny-pinching methods of keeping his estate intact.

So, he was a miser along with being too old for her. When he started to expound on his manly abilities and how she was not to worry that age had slowed him down, she knew she had to do something. It was time to act.

"Not to worry, Lord Barrymore, for I have no desire for children. We need not even consider them, really." She looked up into his face and gave him a sunny, innocent smile. "I always sleep with my door bolted and a gun under my pillow."

Andrew sucked in a breath at the blatant lie and glared at her, his face turning red.

"Well, there will be no more of that!" Lord Barrymore wiped his thin lips with a cloth and widened his eyes at her.

Kendra floundered for a second in despair and then plunged forward. "Oh, you'll not want to see me as a mother. Why, I've taken such poor care of my pets that they never lasted over a year." She laughed with a fake, hollow sound. "My greatest talent is, of course, shopping. I must have a new wardrobe every season, and I seem to go through jewels like water. Why, just the other day I misplaced my favorite diamond and emerald necklace. We must replace it with a better one, dear uncle," she added sweetly, nodding to Andrew, knowing he couldn't disagree with her without giving away their dreadful state of finances.

Andrew gave her a look that said he would like to wrap his hands around her throat but only smiled a smile so bland that Kendra had to shove down the laughter.

"Of course, my dear," he choked out.

Lord Barrymore gaped at her, looking properly appalled with the vision of his wealth slipping through his fingers.

By dessert Kendra had countered everything important to Lord Barrymore until, by the end of the meal, he made his apologies, saying he had suddenly taken on a headache, and fled as fast as his legs could speed him out the door.

Andrew burst into a fit of rage as soon as the door slammed shut, while Kendra let out the laughter she'd been suppressing all night.

"What do you think you're doing, you ungrateful brat?" He stormed around the room. "He was the only one that responded to my offer!"

Kendra looked him square in the eyes and replied in a calm and serene voice. "I wouldn't marry that skinny old goat if he were the last man on earth. We will not suit and you know it."

Andrew's eyes turned dark as he glared at her. He took a deep breath and made another circle around the room and then faced her with his hands extended. "My dear, don't you see, with no dowry we are limited . . . I'm only trying to do what is best for you."

"A lecherous old man is in my best interest? Uncle, how could you think such a thing?"

Andrew turned away with a great sigh. "Well, if you won't wed a man of my choosing then I have only one option left. You will go to America to live with your mother's sister." There was a hint of certain victory in his voice that made Kendra sit up straighter and grip the arms of her chair so that her knuckles turned white.

"You would send me away from my home?" Her anger grew apace with despair at the thought of leaving England. "You would ship me off halfway across the world just to rid yourself of me? You despise me that much?" Her voice dropped into confusion mixed with the pain. "What have I done to make you hate me so?"

"Kendra, I'm only trying to do what is best. You shouldn't live here the rest of your life. It's time to make a future of your own. If you can't find it here in England, then mayhap you will find happiness in America."

America or Lord Barrymore. She could hardly fathom either possibility. "If those are my choices, I will need time to consider. I will give you my answer in the morning, Andrew." She had deliberately left out the "uncle" t.i.tle that she had always called him with such pride and joy. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her.

Andrew seemed not to notice the slight as he nodded his head.

Kendra picked up her skirts and ran, tears blinding her, to her room. Once inside her bedchamber she paced back and forth. Father, why did you have to leave me like this? What do I do? She could either resign herself to a miserable marriage or take her chances in America where she would at least have some say in her life. She hoped she would, in any case.

Kendra tried to remember everything her father had told her about her aunt and uncle. It wasn't much, she decided, plopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Why had her relatives left their homeland to travel to a new world? She knew that some of the aristocracy had been appointed posts in America when they were England's colonies and many had stayed on after the war. Maybe that was it. She contemplated appealing to her grandmother for help, but soon realized the folly of that plan. Her grandmother only had eyes for Andrew and was sure to agree with him.

Dear Lord, please help me make the right decision. The image of Lord Barrymore popped into her head. She thought of the marriage bed, what would happen if she married him, and knew her answer. She would leave her home and take her chances in a strange new land.

When dawn finally peaked its head above the horizon it found Kendra dressed and ready for her future. She wanted as much of the time she had left to see her favorite places around the estate. There were the tenants to say good-bye to and the wooded creek she had played beside as a child that had been her secret haven. Her uncle was inclined to rise late, so she would have time to spare before the dreaded confrontation.

Just before noon Kendra strolled into the hall. The butler, Hobbs, seemed nervous as he said with a shaky voice, his hands twisting together, "Oh, thank goodness it's you, Lady Kendra. The earl has had us searching high and low for you. I believe he thought you had run off."

"Ran off?" If only she had somewhere to run off to. She made her way down the corridor to the library and knocked.

A gruff voice answered. "Yes, what is it?" Kendra recognized her uncle's black mood and sighed.

She entered the room to a thundering lecture as to the fright she had caused everyone. Patience! She repeated the reminder to herself, remembering her father's teachings. Finally, Andrew paused for a breath and she was able to make her announcement. "I have made a decision, Andrew."

He stopped and stared at her. "I hope you've come to your senses."

"I'm going to America."

For the first time ever, her uncle's face blanched with genuine shock. "You would rather leave your country than marry Lord Barrymore?"

"Yes." Kendra stared hard into his eyes.

"Well, in that case, be prepared to leave within a fortnight. I will write a letter of introduction for you to take to your aunt. They will be forced to do their duty by you with you on their doorstep, all the way from England."

Kendra's heart sank. He was really going to send her away. She bolted for the door as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Love. Love your enemies. She heard the words but couldn't imagine how to do that when all she wanted was to have her father back.

Chapter Four.

Kendra stepped out onto the stone terrace and blinked back tears. The dawn of a beautiful day, a most perfect day, and her last day in Arundel. The sky was turning blue as the pale pink shades of a sunrise seemed to dissolve in a million tiny faded particles, leaving the world bathed in a warm yellow glow. The lush greens and brilliant colors of the garden with its white daisies, lavender, rows of primroses, and dotted clumps of red and pink carnations that she had painstakingly tended bloomed and waved at her with the early summer breeze. Pots of purple pansies were scattered along a stone path that led to a row of hedges and a low bench where she had spent many a summer's day reading or just daydreaming while sitting in her garden.

Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and the fairy king Oberon leapt to her mind and made her smile. Furious with his queen over a baby, the king laid crushed pansy petals on his wife's eyelids while she slept as he believed the special properties from the pansies would make t.i.tania fall in love with the first thing she saw upon waking. In this case he planned that she see a man with a donkey head. Kendra smiled and then a crushing sadness swept over her. She would never sit here and read again.

Lord, am I making a mistake? I feel as if I'm leaping from a cliff. She turned down a winding path that led into a leafy bower bordered by rose bushes. She stopped under a sunny spot, closed her eyes, and lifted her face into the warmth. Please, don't let me make a mistake.

A whirring sound and something tickling her nose made her eyes fly open. There, darting around her, were two dragonflies. She gasped, reaching for the brooch that she had placed on the bodice of her dress that morning. It had been her mother's gift to her at her birth and she only wore it on the most special occasions or on days like today, when she needed the extra courage and to feel close to her parents. The dragonflies flitted about her, zigging and zagging, swooping near her head and then away. A smile spread across her face as joy flooded her chest. It was a sign. Her parents were with her, watching over her and telling her everything would be okay.

She twirled slowly around with her arms outstretched. Joy. Thank You, Father. I needed that today.

"Lady Kendra!" One of the servants called her name.

She turned and hurried back toward the house. "Coming."

Her trunks had been loaded onto a new carriage and she knew her uncle was waiting for her, no doubt pacing and slapping a riding crop against his thigh. She walked through a back door and gave a last look around the drawing room where she and her father had spent many evenings together playing chess or dominoes, drinking hot chocolate while he told her stories of their ancestors' plights throughout the centuries. The ache of missing him flared into a sharp piercing pain as if someone had just stabbed her. Her throat worked as she swallowed it back, pressing one hand against her chest.

Joy. The joy of the Lord is my strength. She remembered the dancing dragonflies and allowed G.o.d's peace to return to her heart. Her parents may have been taken from her, but G.o.d would never forsake her, not even in a place as far away as America. With that thought bolstering her flagging spirits she forced her chin up a notch and walked from the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her.

The few servants they still had were gathered outside, standing in two short lines on either side of the door in their faded red and gold livery.

She'd heard Andrew trying to discourage them earlier that morning, saying it would make Kendra's parting harder, but they had flatly disobeyed him. They didn't treat her uncle with the same respect born out of love that they had given her father. As Kendra walked down the steps they bowed or curtsied, one after another, several with tears shining from their faithful eyes.

Kendra smiled at their tribute and bit her quivering lower lip. She wanted them to be proud of her and this was no time to be weeping. Several stopped her progress and whispered oaths of loyalty. "You will be sorely missed, my lady," and "We won't forget yer lovely self," among many good-bye hugs. The cook, Mildred, was beside herself, tears racing down her full cheeks as she stammered out with a quivering chin, "It j-just w-won't be the s-s-same without you in the k-kitchen, my lady." At first cook had been appalled when Kendra had rolled up her sleeves to help, but after a time she'd gotten used to the idea of a lady in the kitchen and enjoyed teaching Kendra how to make tasty meals from simple ingredients.

"I shall miss you too, Mildred." Kendra patted her arm. She glanced up and saw Andrew picking invisible lint from his sleeve between heavy sighs and some eye-rolling. Kendra turned to look once more at the visage of her home and the good people who were like family to her and said in a loud voice for all to hear. "On behalf of my father and myself, I would like to thank each and every one of you for the wonderful care you have taken of our family. Please do not think of this as a final good-bye, for one day I plan to return and I expect this place to be in excellent shape." She bobbed a quick curtsy and turned away before they saw the trembling of her bottom lip. Refusing her uncle's outreached hand, she climbed into the carriage and waved one last time. Her uncle ignored the slight with a careless flick of his hand and climbed in beside her.

Three days trapped in this tight s.p.a.ce with him. Kendra stared out the window at the rolling farmland that had been her home and wondered how she would endure it.

"You didn't. Tell me you're joking." Dorian could not believe his firstmate had made such a decision. After hearing the story of how some English earl had cornered him at a tavern the night before and how John had been goaded into taking on a pa.s.senger, a female pa.s.senger, he squeezed his hands into fists, hardly able to contain his anger.

"I told him no at first." John slung his hands into his pockets and grimaced, looking away.

"Don't you see, the man was trying to force you into giving in."

"But I raised the fee by a hundred pounds! I couldn't believe he met my price and figured it would make our trip more profitable."