Page 1 of A Gentleman's Kiss
1
Off the coast of England, 1852
The ship swayed in the water as the sails moved back and forth with the wind. Lillian Whitmore, lay flat on her stomach on the small bed in the cabin assigned to her for her travels. Her face planted on the rough wool coverlet, its mildewy, musty scent assaulting her nose.
Wave after wave of nausea passed through her, in sync with the sways of the ship. She lurched to her feet when she felt her empty stomach was to give way, only to hunch back onto the bed with a groan, knees tucked up to her belly.
Nearly two weeks had gone by since she boardedThe Elizabethin New York. She didn’t think she would make it all the way to London. She’d barely eaten a morsel since boarding and what she was able to consume came pouring forth sooner or later. The few gowns she brought with her now billowed around her slender frame.
Please Lord, have mercy on me.
Already a passenger died from infection. She hoped to God the only illness she would have was the incessant seasickness.
Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? I was so happy…
Tears glistened in her eyes, as they had a thousand times before in the previous weeks. She was not strong enough to hold them back. They spilled over, stinging her already swollen lids and wetting her cheeks. Racking sobs shook her weak body.
Slowly she drifted away, to another time and place, worse than this one…
“Oh Bryan, don’t be silly dear! Everything shall be fine. We have just purchased the finest carriage in all of New York,” Mrs. Whitmore said.
“But Mary, this storm is worsening,” Mr. Whitmore replied. “I will not have you and Lillian traveling in it. Your friends will wait for your visit until the storm subsides.”
Mrs. Whitmore waved her hand at the formidable clouds. “Bryan darling, this is very important to me and to Lillian. Why not go with us?”
“Please Father, I so want to go,” Lillian begged. She fluttered her lashes and pleaded with her gaze for him to acquiesce.
“Very well, I shall alert the footmen. But if we arrive drenched, we will not make a very good impression.”
The ladies ignored his warnings and instead clapped their hands with joy, smiling from ear to ear.
Once in the carriage, Lillian could barely contain her excitement. There were rumors Mr. Aaron MacCain was going to ask for her hand at that afternoon’s play.
Their ride went smoothly with Lillian and her mother chattering nonstop about Aaron, and all the other ladies who were clambering for his attentions. Even though her father hadn’t wanted them to go, he too seemed excited for the outing. Her father was a well off man, but Aaron was by far one of the wealthiest men in New York, having recently come from Scotland as a nobleman. He’d renounced his title of Earl of Moray, taken his money and moved to New York.
Her father was all too pleased for her to find a match with a man so similar to himself. He had left England for the Americas when she was very young and renounced his own title as Earl of Lambeth.
Their lively chatter was interrupted by shouting. Lillian couldn’t make out what the footmen were saying, but their voices echoed alarm and terror. Her father’s gaze flashed with anxiety, and a cold chill passed through her.
Their carriage shifted savagely back and forth, knocking them from their seats. Fear gripped her as she grappled with the sides of the carriage, desperately reaching for something to hold onto. Her vision went black. Screams rang in her ears, and then nothing.
Lillian startled awake. Sweat blanketed her body, and she shook from fear. The dream still lingered in her mind. The sobs which subsided when she slept came again.
Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to gain some control of herself. In order to get through this, she would need inner strength. But how?
How could she ever heal from the pain of causing her own dear parents’ death?
She wasn’t sure how she was going to overcome it, or if she’d ever be able to stop the guilt, but she hoped her new life in London would offer some answers.
What would London bring for her? How would life with total strangers be? With her parents’ death came a new future—one filled with question. She was to live with her fathers’ brother and wife, Uncle Luke and Aunt Georgiana, better known as the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. Lillian’s memory of her aunt and uncle was limited. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen them. She had so many questions. Were they nice people? Would they treat her like their own daughter, or like a beggar come for charity? Did she have cousins?
One of her biggest questions was why at age twenty, was she being shipped halfway across the world to live with her guardians? Why couldn’t she stay at home in her familiar surroundings, with a chaperone, and continue on with her life in America, as dreary an existence as it might be?
Staying in her homeland, despite being shunned by former friends, still would have made the healing process easier. Instead, here she was, on a ship, sick, tired, and utterly cried out.
Please let London offer more than this dreary existence.
