Chapter 23
That afternoon, Ellie was standing beside her bed, looking over the many pages of illustrations spread out on the coverlet, when a tapping came from the door.
The sound startled her. She had given instructions that no one was to disturb her. To boost her spirits, she had resolved to focus her mind on her storybook. She wanted to determine how to break it into separate books as Damien had suggested. To that purpose, she had retrieved the finished pages from her uncle’s house and had laid some of them out so that it would be easier to view the overall progress of the plot.
Now, however, Ellie felt a flash of alarm. She reached out to snatch up the papers and hide them. Then she stopped herself. She needn’t conceal her work anymore. No longer was she the poor relation who would face punishment for shirking her duties.
She was the mistress of this house. The liberating thought eased her mind. If she chose to litter the entire room with sheets of paper, then no one could gainsay her.
Nevertheless, she had asked to be left alone. She wanted to concentrate on the project without interruption. Perhaps Harriet had neglected to relay the message to Mrs. Tomkins …
As Ellie started across the bedroom, the door opened a crack and a tiny blond head poked inside. A darling little face peered up at her. “Please, ma’am, may I come in?”
Ellie’s heart softened. “Why, Lily! Of course you may.”
The girl slipped into the bedchamber, but hovered by the open door, her big blue eyes trained on Ellie. Today she wore a ruffled pinafore over a pale pink dress with a matching pink ribbon in her golden hair. She looked so precious that Ellie yearned to draw her close for a kiss.
But Damien would frown on that. He didn’t want his daughter to become attached to the stepmother who would be leaving soon. So Ellie reluctantly kept her distance. “Does Miss Applegate know where you are?”
“She went out on her afternoon off, and Nurse fell asleep in the rocking chair. And I did finish writing out my spelling list.”
Lily looked anxious to please, so Ellie reassured her. “That’s excellent, darling. Perhaps we should go up to the schoolroom so that you may show me your work. Have you learned to read, then?”
“Yes, ma’am. I can read lots and lots of words. Even sentences.” Curiosity lighting her face, Lily ventured a few steps toward the bed. “Why do you have so many papers scattered about?”
“I’m an artist, and those are my drawings. I was just looking at all of them.”
Lily went to stand at the foot of the four-poster. She clasped her hands behind her back as if she’d been taught not to touch things that didn’t belong to her. She stared in wide-eyed silence at the illustrations of Princess Arianna encountering fantastical forest creatures, curling up to sleep in a hut, awaking to find an old crone attempting to cast a spell on her, and using her wits to escape the wicked witch.
Lily craned her neck to see the other drawings. Then she glanced up at Ellie in confusion. “But … these are pages from a book!”
“Yes, I am making a book,” Ellie said. “I’m drawing the pictures and writing the story.”
Lily looked up at her in openmouthed amazement, as if it had never before occurred to her that books didn’t appear magically in a store or library, that an actual person wrote them.
“Would you like for me to read you a little of it?” Ellie asked on impulse. “Just the beginning, so that you can know what the story is about?”
“Oh! Oh, yes, please.”
Ellie collected the pages into an orderly stack, then seated herself in one of the pale green armchairs by the fireside. She was intending to instruct the girl to sit on the rug to listen, as Beatrice and Cedric had always done as children. But without warning, Lily climbed onto Ellie’s lap and snuggled into a comfortable position.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Ellie to put her arm around the girl. Lily tucked her head in the crook of Ellie’s shoulder, released a contented sigh, and then gazed down at the pile of papers, clearly waiting for the story to begin.
Ellie couldn’t find her voice. She needed a moment to absorb the joy of cuddling a child on her lap, to relish having that small form curled up against her. It felt lovely and humbling to be the recipient of such trust. But in light of her plan to depart soon, should she even be encouraging this closeness?
She drew in a shaky breath. It would be wiser to send the girl straight back to the nursery. Wiser to maintain a distance between them. Yet Ellie had offered to read the story, and now she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint the little girl.
She picked up the first page. Completed in watercolors, it depicted an adolescent girl in a fancy blue gown with a tiara nestled in her flowing, coppery hair. Behind her, a king and queen beamed proudly at their daughter.
“‘Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Arianna. She was an only child and rather naughty, for she was greatly indulged by her parents. On the occasion of her fifteenth birthday, the king and queen invited everyone in the land to a huge celebration. There was dancing and feasting and games. But then something dreadful happened. While playing hide-and-seek, Princess Arianna tried to trick the other children by hiding where no one would find her. She ventured too far into the Forbidden Forest and soon lost her way among the thick, dark trees…’”
While turning the pages, Ellie glanced down to see Lily’s reaction. It was a delight to view the rapt attention on her face. Never before had Ellie had the opportunity to read her book aloud to a child. By the time she’d conceived the idea for it, Beatrice and Cedric had been too old for fairy tales. So Ellie had kept the book her own precious secret, working late at night in the privacy of her tiny bedchamber at Pennington House. Damien had looked at bits and pieces of scenes from later in the saga. But not even he had heard the story from the very beginning.
Reading the short script at the bottom of the pages, she gave Lily a few moments to study each illustration. And she allowed herself the pleasure of watching the little girl. She could see something of Damien in Lily’s smile and in her cheekbones, though her face was much more delicate. Her fair coloring must have come from her mother. Damien had mentioned that his previous wife had been a dainty blonde.
What a sad circumstance for the girl to grow up without ever having known her mother. Ellie’s own mother had died when Ellie had been about the same age as Lily. Ellie had clear memories of a dark-haired woman, of a lovely voice singing, a soft hand on her brow, a warm smile and comforting hugs.
Lily had only ever known Miss Applegate, the nursery maids, and Mrs. Tomkins. From her own experience, Ellie knew that no matter how kind and caring servants were, it was not the same as having one’s own mother. Lily deserved to know that special love. Yet who else could fulfill that need but her father’s wife?
And Ellie would be moving away from this house very soon. She would finally achieve her cherished dream of having a cottage where she could be free to pursue her art. To that end, she and Damien had made a mutual agreement to live apart. The marriage had been arranged so swiftly that there had been no time to consider the effect of it on his daughter.
Guilt nibbled at her, but she pushed it away. At least Lily did have an attentive father. Damien adored her—as Lily did him. What would he say if he were to see Ellie and Lily nestled together in this chair? He would be angry, and justifiably so. He wanted Ellie to stay out of his daughter’s life, and she couldn’t blame him. He was only trying to shield Lily from being hurt.
Ellie reached the final page in the stack, wherein Princess Arianna escapes from the clutches of a wicked witch only to become lost again in the vastness of the Forbidden Forest. With a hint of regret, she placed the paper with the others on the table beside the chair.
Lily tilted a worried expression up at her. “Will the princess ever find her mama and papa again?”
Smiling, Ellie brushed back a lock of hair from the girl’s cheek. “Yes, she will, I promise you that. But first, Arianna will have many more adventures. She will learn to be brave and strong, and not to be quite so naughty anymore. Only then will she find her way back to her mother and father.”
Lily had a solemn look on her face. Anticipating a plea for another installment of the story, Ellie dropped a kiss on the top of that golden head. “I believe it’s time for you to return to the nursery. We wouldn’t want Nurse to become alarmed by your absence. Up you go, now.”
Instead of arising, Lily threw her arms around Ellie’s neck. “Nurse said that you’re my new mother. May I call you mama? Please?”
A flood of affection caught Ellie unawares. How marvelous it was to feel such a close connection to this sweet child. Awash in the euphoria of unguarded emotion, she hugged Lily close. “Of course you may…”
Even as the impulsive words left her lips, Ellie realized her mistake. Oh, no. She oughtn’t encourage any familiarity. She was supposed to remain aloof and detached. But she couldn’t bring herself to retract the permission, especially not when Lily beamed at her in delight before scrambling off her lap.
As Ellie arose from the chair, she tried to think of what to do. Damien would be furious if he heard Lily addressing her as “mama.” Yet how could she explain that to the little girl? Perhaps there was a tactful way to instruct Lily to remain in the nursery henceforth, and never to come back here for any more visits …
“Papa, you’re home!”
It took a moment for Lily’s glad cry to register. Then Ellie looked over her shoulder to realize two things in quick succession. Lily had never closed the door. And Damien stood behind them in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame and his arms crossed.
He was not smiling.
Dear God. How long had he been standing there?
Lily started toward him, then came back to grab Ellie’s hand and drag her forward on resisting feet. “Papa, guess what? Mama has been reading me a story.”
“Indeed?”
His voice had a cold undercurrent. He directed a piercing stare at Ellie, and she strove not to quail under the force of it. Yet she felt lower than a worm slithering through the bowels of the earth. He had every right to condemn her.
As he bent down to greet his daughter, a smile banished the fierceness from his face. He ruffled her hair, saying, “Nurse has been looking for you, princess. She was certain that you’d run away into the Forbidden Forest, never to be seen again.”
Ellie’s mouth went dry. Oh, no. He must have been standing there for a long time.
Lily giggled. “How silly. I’ve been right here with Mama.”
“So you have,” he said, one black eyebrow lifted in clear rebuke of Ellie. He looked back at Lily. “It’s time to go upstairs now. Our tea is growing cold. Cook has sent your favorite jam tarts.”
“Can Mama come, too? Please, Papa?”
Ellie’s gaze met his. He looked exceedingly handsome today in a dark green coat that enhanced the color of his cool, critical eyes. In spite of his obvious displeasure, she felt a shiver of attraction scurry over her skin. How could she feel so enticed by him even in the face of his anger?
“I’m afraid I’m rather busy with my work today,” she told Lily. “It takes quite a lot of time to sketch all the pictures for my story.”
Lily gave her a woebegone look. “But it will only be for a little while.”
Ellie was about to voice another firm refusal when Damien stepped forward to place his hand at the small of her back. “If it pleases you, Lily, I’m sure that Mama can spare the time. Shall we go?”
Ellie found herself directed out the door and down to the end of the corridor, where a small staircase led up to the upper floor. It was painfully clear from Damien’s harsh expression that he didn’t desire her company. He merely had a soft spot when it came to his daughter’s happiness.
Lily skipped ahead of them, bounding up the steps with all the enthusiasm of youth. Ellie was keenly aware of her husband’s hand burning into her lower back. He must think that she would balk if he didn’t force her to accompany them. His nearness made her all the more conscious of her dreadful blunder.
As they mounted the stairs, she cast him a sideways glance. “Damien … I must explain—”
“Explain what?” His voice was clipped, his gaze furious. “For God’s sake, Ellie. You knew how I felt on this matter. It will make things so much more difficult for Lily when you leave here.”
Feeling the prick of tears, Ellie glanced at him before turning her head down. “I am sorry,” she murmured, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean for her to call me Mama … but she asked me … and she looked so darling … well, I just didn’t think…”
His silence only contributed to her misery. Her throat felt taut, her stomach sick with tension. She couldn’t blame him for being livid. They both knew that Lily would feel betrayed by Ellie’s inevitable departure. And that Damien would be left with the task of consoling the grieving little girl.
Then, as they reached the top of the stairs, he surprised Ellie by rubbing his palm over the middle of her back in a comforting gesture. Bending his head close, he said in her ear, “I will admit, the little scamp is hard to resist. Only look at her now.”
Lily stood waiting in a doorway up ahead. With her hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face, she resembled a miniature governess. “Do hurry, Papa, you are walking far too slowly.”
“Some people prefer not to gallop through the house like wild horses on the loose,” he said dryly.
As they strolled forward, Ellie cast a cautious glance at him. His expression no longer looked quite so forbidding. Had he decided to forgive her? No, it was more likely that he’d just temporarily set aside their quarrel for Lily’s sake.
A pudgy, gray-haired woman in aproned gown and mobcap hovered just inside the door. She bobbed a curtsy. “Bless you, sir, for finding the little miss! Why, I’d only rested my eyes for half a minute and she was gone.”
“She was safely visiting with Mrs. Burke.” Once he had introduced Ellie to the kind-faced nursemaid, and had dispatched the servant to the kitchen to fetch another teacup, Lily slipped her small hand into Ellie’s.
“I have a hobby horse, Mama,” she said, apparently inspired by her father’s remark about wild horses. “Come and see.”
Ellie found herself being drawn across a schoolroom with several small tables and matching chairs, and tall windows that let in the afternoon sunshine. There were low shelves filled with many books, a world globe on a pedestal, and framed prints of alphabet animals on the walls. Nostalgia filled her as she breathed in the familiar scents of chalk dust and book bindings. Having spent most of her life as a pupil and then a governess, she had always felt at home in a classroom.
Lily hopped onto a rocking horse in the corner and began to ride back and forth with great enthusiasm. “Look, Mama. I’m practicing for when Papa buys me a real pony. I hope when I am seven.”
“Ten,” Damien said firmly, coming up behind Ellie. “And that’s only if you’re a good girl and learn proper behavior.”
Stepping forward, he plucked Lily off the rocking horse and set her standing on the floor. Then he crouched down in front of her, placing his hands on her small shoulders. “I am sorry to end your fun, Lily. But I must have a word with you. Two days in a row, you’ve left the schoolroom without permission. You have caused Nurse and Miss Applegate to worry needlessly about you.”
Lily tucked her chin down, her lower lip suddenly wobbling. “I’m sorry, Papa. I know … I know it was wrong.”
“I will have your promise that it won’t happen ever again.”
In a very small voice, she said, “I promise.”
“Excellent. And I shall be watching to make sure that you do obey.”
He cupped her chin in his large hand, running his thumb over her cheek in a loving caress designed to take the sting out of his reprimand. He had done a similar thing to her, Ellie realized, when he had glided his hand over her back out in the corridor. That small touch had been a balm to ease her wretchedness.
But it was too much to hope that he had forgiven her. Not when she was guilty of the deplorable act of setting his daughter up for heartache. Though at least now, he had made certain that Lily wouldn’t be paying her any more unexpected calls. Perhaps that had been part of his purpose, to keep the two of them separated.
Ellie told herself to be glad. Yet she couldn’t deny she would miss visiting with the little girl. Being with Lily helped to fill the empty place in her heart left by the loss of her family.
Rising to his feet, Damien smiled down at his daughter. “I believe I’m hungry for a tart now,” he said. “I presume Dora will be joining us for tea today?”
Dora?
As Lily dashed out of the schoolroom, he cast a guarded glance at Ellie. “I hope I wasn’t too easy on her. I know many fathers would have taken a willow switch to her backside.”
Ellie searched his face. Was he seeking her advice? “You mustn’t doubt yourself. You handled the matter exactly right.”
“I don’t want her to grow up too spoiled.” His mouth crooked into a faint, worried smile. “I never had a father to show me how to behave. And at times I fear that I don’t know the first thing about being one.”
How difficult it must be for him to face parenthood alone, Ellie thought, with only servants to help him out. Yet he had professed not to want a wife. He had been just as reluctant to marry as she had been.
Stepping to his side, she placed her hand on his forearm, feeling the smoothness of his sleeve beneath her fingers, the strength of his muscles. “You’ve done very well with her, Damien. She’s a happy, precious, perfect child. Well, nearly perfect, anyway.”
They shared a laugh, and Ellie was glad that the tension between them had eased. His eyes were warmer now and he was looking at her in a way that caused a thrill down her spine. Had he forgiven her? Perhaps he’d only decided that since Lily wouldn’t be sneaking out of the nursery anymore, he had resolved the issue of her forming an attachment to Ellie.
The notion was somehow disheartening.
Lily came running back, clutching a shabby, homemade doll with yellow yarn hair, black button eyes, and a sewn-on smile. “This is Dora,” she told Ellie. “She has tea with Papa and me every day.”
Every day?
Ellie shook the doll’s mittenlike hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dora.”
Lily giggled in delight. Skipping toward one of the schoolroom tables, where the silver tea tray sat waiting, the little girl haphazardly piled some books onto a chair and perched Dora on top of the stack. Nurse delivered the extra cup and then departed the room again.
As the three of them took their places around the table, Ellie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the sight of Damien settling his large frame onto one of the child-sized chairs. He seemed matter-of-fact about the whole process, plucking off the knitted cozy from the blue china pot and pouring the tea as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
Perhaps he had. Sipping from her cup, Ellie marveled to realize that the notorious Demon Prince really did have tea with his young daughter every day. The harpies of society would never believe it.
She would have never believed it a fortnight ago. He had allowed very few people to see the real man behind the cynical mask.
Lily was on her best behavior. She sat up straight in her chair and took dainty sips from the milky tea in her porcelain cup. Every now and then, she leaned toward Dora, pretending to feed bits of raspberry jam tart to the doll. And she directed the conversation as if holding court in a drawing room.
“Mama is an artist,” Lily informed her father. “She is making a book about a princess who is lost in the forest.”
“So I heard.” One corner of his mouth curled upward as he eyed Ellie across the table. “You should know, Lily, that later in the story, Princess Arianna meets a dashing hero named Prince Ratworth.”
“Villain,” Ellie corrected.
“Hero, for he’s a master swordsman who saves the princess from an ogre. And he is a prince, after all.”
“A princess has to marry a prince,” Lily said, as if that settled the matter.
Ellie laughed. “Well, the book is not yet finished. So we shall see how it all turns out in the end.”
“Yes,” Damien said. “We shall.”
She fancied there was a note in his voice that held a deeper meaning. His inscrutable gaze rested on her for a moment before he returned his attention to his daughter. But that brief, intense look had fanned the embers of longing in Ellie. What did it mean? Did he, too, desire a closer relationship with her? Did he want them to have a real marriage?
A bone-deep quiver shook her. She mustn’t let herself even think of staying with him. She had set into motion a plan to live on her own, to dedicate herself to the long-held dream of writing and illustrating her books. Nothing must come in the way of that. Besides, Damien had said that he’d never wanted to marry again. He didn’t want a wife any more than she’d wanted a husband.
They had made a pact with each other. They had wed for the sake of propriety while agreeing to lead separate lives. And she had insisted upon a chaste marriage.
You will not claim the rights of a husband without my consent. And at the moment, I am not of a mind to grant it.
Those cold words had arisen out of her anger and fear. She had felt trapped, forced by circumstances to speak her vows to the man who had abducted her. But somehow, in the space of a few days, all of those distressful feelings had vanished. Now she could think of nowhere else she wanted to be at the moment but right here with Damien and Lily.
A bittersweet joy filled her bosom. She felt privileged to be allowed into the little circle of their family—even if it could only be for this one afternoon. Yet surely it was imprudent to wish for more from a man who made his living from gambling. She mustn’t forget the hard lesson she’d learned from the downfall of her father.
Nevertheless, while watching Damien laughing with his daughter, Ellie realized that something perilous was happening to her. She was in grave danger of falling in love with her own husband.