| |
HAMPSHIRE, ENGLAND 1871
––––––––
SEVEN YEARS LATER
––––––––
EARLY MORNING LIGHT lit the stranger from behind, casting a long shadow across the wood floor—a shadow that stopped inches from where Lily remained seated, studying the newcomer. The dark shading and its owner’s unceremonious arrival before proper visiting hours did not bode well in her mind as the buttered toast she’d swallowed turned to a sick pit in her stomach.
Who was this man?
An unfamiliar presence who dared to intrude on their morning breakfast without an invitation.
“Good morning.” He executed a brief bow, a wiry lock of hair falling forward. The hat in his hand tapped against his thigh as he waited to be let in.
Caraway, Lily’s eldest sister, had answered the summons at the door, and she dipped her head in greeting. “Good morning, sir. May I help you?”
“You’re one of Mr. Phinneas Taylor’s daughters, I presume?”
“Yes, I’m the eldest Miss Caraway Taylor, then my sisters, Miss Iris and Miss Lily.” Cara gestured to them as they both stood, dipping their chins in greeting, curiosity and wariness shimmering from them. It was unusual for them to receive guests as they didn’t possess many friends in the nearby village, and a male visitor was even rarer.
“How do you do, ladies? My name is Mr. Edward Laramie. I’ve recently returned from an extended trip to South America and have urgent business to conduct with your father if he’s available.”
The women cast identical looks of shock at the man before Cara ushered him inside. “Please take a seat, Mr. Laramie. Would you care for some refreshment? Tea?”
He shook his head and set his hat on the kitchen table the four of them sat around. As if sensing the indoor tension, the atmosphere remained quiet—no cheerful chirping floating in through the windows or scratching of squirrels as they climbed the nearby oak.
It unsettled Lily.
A sensation that intensified when Laramie’s gaze traveled over each woman before landing on her and narrowing. Uncomfortable at the perusal of his inhumanly light eyes, she swiftly attempted to throw him off with a challenging stare of her own. To no avail.
Old breeches formed to her crossed legs while the oversized cotton shirt she wore billowed around her. She usually ate breakfast in such attire, since they made her brisk morning strolls easier. However, the thin clothing felt non-existent at Laramie’s persistent study.
Clearing her throat, oblivious to the interaction, Cara patted the buttons on her dress in a nervous gesture before dropping a hand to her lap. “I’m afraid speaking with our father won’t be possible. Our parents died in a carriage accident almost two years ago. I’m sorry you haven’t heard the news yet.”
A grunt of surprise left Mr. Laramie as his eyes finally left Lily to focus on a leather case where he retrieved a sheaf of papers. An odd mark below his ear caught her attention, a brownish-black mole or freckle of some kind. “That is unfortunate... My condolences.” His eyes met Lily’s again, and she forced her gaze upward again, to not look away. “However, it doesn’t negate a serious breach of contract on your father’s part.”
The abrupt change of tone—from apologetic to business-like—grated, but Lily withheld a sharp retort.
It wouldn’t do to insult the man... yet.
He tossed what she assumed to be the contract on the table between the plate of toast slices and a pitcher of cream. The resounding thump caused waves in the milky liquid, a tsunami of problems hurtling down to drown them under its weight.
Lily snatched the bundle of parchment from its ominous position and skimmed over the bold lines of script. “It appears that Mr. Laramie commissioned a research project from Papa where he combined Mr. Laramie’s research and his own into one comprehensive book on bryophytes.” Raising an eyebrow in silent question, her sisters shook their heads simultaneously. No one knew what a bryophyte was.
“It was supposed to be the book on bryophytes, part of my legacy as a scholarly explorer. As I said earlier, for the past year and a half, I’ve been exploring remote parts of South America working on my next project. Correspondence was nonexistent, but I expected your father to have the finished product when I arrived.” The man rested clasped hands on the table as he leaned forward. “Do you know if he was able to complete the project before his demise?”
“I hardly think so. The date on this contract says it was signed September 1869; our father passed in October,” Lily explained and handed the contract to Caraway to read for herself. A large advance had been paid to Papa, and while they hadn’t been frivolous with expenses, their family certainly didn’t have the full amount to repay Mr. Laramie.
Lily wondered how benevolent he’d turn out to be, how far his condolences would extend. To forgive the debt in its entirety? Allow for a repayment plan?
An inward shudder ran through her. No, she doubted they’d be so fortunate.
We never are...
“It seems we’re in a bit of a quandary then, girls,” he said condescendingly, and an angry flush welled on Lily’s cheeks. “Seeing as I’ve no book, it’s only fair that I receive recompense for the sum I paid your father before my departure.”
“But, we don’t have—” Iris started, but Cara cut her off with a hand on her arm and a quick shake of her head.
“Naturally. However, as three single women still grieving our parents, I beseech your sense of compassion and generosity. A sum such as this is unattainable at the moment, but we’re willing to repay you in installments if that’s agreeable.” A shrewd look entered Cara’s blue eyes, and for once, Lily was thankful for her sister’s take-charge attitude.
Usually, it rubbed her the wrong way—she didn’t like being told what to do. But in this case, it was a relief to let her older sister handle the issue.
“My sympathies for your situation, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I won’t reap the benefits of my research from this last trip until months from now. This book was meant to cover the intervening lull.” Collecting his hat and bag, Mr. Laramie shifted to his feet and motioned to the contract. “That is a duplicate for your own records.”
“But, sir, please—”
“I’m not an unfeeling man, Misses Taylor. Therefore, I’ll give you a fortnight to gather the necessary funds. If you can’t manage the task, I’ll be forced to contact my barrister and sue for breach of contract. It might result in the loss of this lovely cottage, as it’s sold to cover the cost.” Mr. Laramie bowed, once again, his eyes finding Lily’s.
If only that unbecoming mark was on his nose, she thought uncharitably, frustrated by the morning’s turn of events.
“Farewell, ladies. I wish you luck.” And he saw himself out, the quiet shutting of the door resembling a death knell as they remained paralyzed in their seats.
“I can’t believe this.”
“What are we going to do?” Iris ran a hand over her chignon before her head fell to her hands in anguish.
Sudden energy flooded her veins after the bombshell. Lily hopped to her feet, an irrepressible need to escape building in her bones.
“There’s nothing for it. Looks like we’re going to be homeless in a fortnight, so we better start packing what we want to keep before it’s auctioned off.”
Repeatedly, fate reminded the Taylor family that nothing would ever go their way. Lily didn’t understand how her sisters thought this would be any different.
First, their parents died. Then Hazel left. And now this.
Don’t forget Owen. You couldn’t have him either.
Lily sneered at the bothersome inclusion, a weak spot in her mind to be sure, and reminded herself that she didn’t care anymore.
I don’t want him.
“Lily Nicole, don’t say such things! How can you be so cruel?” Cara reprimanded with a firm swat on the wooden tabletop to punctuate her point.
“It’s not cruel if it’s the truth, and unless you’ve hoarded some secret treasure like the heroines in Hazel’s fairytales, then a fortnight from now, we will be forced out of our home. Of all people, you should recognize the practicality of accepting that fact now rather than later.” Stretching an arm over her head and pulling it down with the other before switching sides, she dared Cara to argue with a glare. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out for some much-needed air and exercise. Might be one of the last times I get to see the lake.”
“You can’t abandon us now. We need to...”
But the rest of Iris’s words were cut off as Lily slammed the door behind her and took off in a sprint towards the woods and her favorite spot in all of Hampshire: the stone gazebo by the lake.