Lilies on the Lake - Hardcover
Once, they’d loved each other with all their hearts.
Now fate was giving them a second chance....
Bestselling, award-winning author Katherine Kingsley brings her sizzling blend of romance and sensuality to the tale of a woman who scandalizes Victorian London ... and the man who’d follow her to the ends of the earth if it would make her love him....
As the port of Alexandria came into view, Portia Merriem trembled with excitement. Here she was, the stepdaughter of a marquess, about to live an Egyptian adventure. But instead of enjoying thrilling excavations, Pip found herself on a houseboat on the Nile, praying for a miracle that would save her pregnant traveling companion.
When help finally arrived, she thought she must be dreaming. He was John Henry Lovell, the friend and protector of her childhood ... a world away from this powerful man who stared at her with the eyes of a stranger.
He’d loved her all his life. And now, like a ghost from the past, she stood before him as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever. She was the reason John Henry had fled Norfolk. Yet how could he abandon her now — alone in a foreign land and determined to raise another woman’s child as her own?
The only way to avoid scandal was to return to England ... as man and wife. And later, when the gossip had quieted, he’d give her her freedom.
How could he know that freedom was the last thing Pip wanted ... that all she needed was a glance, a word, a touch, and ten years of pain and sorrow could be transformed into a lifetime of love?
Now fate was giving them a second chance....
Bestselling, award-winning author Katherine Kingsley brings her sizzling blend of romance and sensuality to the tale of a woman who scandalizes Victorian London ... and the man who’d follow her to the ends of the earth if it would make her love him....
As the port of Alexandria came into view, Portia Merriem trembled with excitement. Here she was, the stepdaughter of a marquess, about to live an Egyptian adventure. But instead of enjoying thrilling excavations, Pip found herself on a houseboat on the Nile, praying for a miracle that would save her pregnant traveling companion.
When help finally arrived, she thought she must be dreaming. He was John Henry Lovell, the friend and protector of her childhood ... a world away from this powerful man who stared at her with the eyes of a stranger.
He’d loved her all his life. And now, like a ghost from the past, she stood before him as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever. She was the reason John Henry had fled Norfolk. Yet how could he abandon her now — alone in a foreign land and determined to raise another woman’s child as her own?
The only way to avoid scandal was to return to England ... as man and wife. And later, when the gossip had quieted, he’d give her her freedom.
How could he know that freedom was the last thing Pip wanted ... that all she needed was a glance, a word, a touch, and ten years of pain and sorrow could be transformed into a lifetime of love?
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
From the Back Cover:
“Katherine Kingsley is a glorious treasure.”
— Romantic Times
Don’t miss Katherine Kingsley’s unforgettable novels:
In the Presence of Angels
Call Down the Moon
The Sound of Snow
Once Upon a Dream
The Wake of the Wind
Available from Dell
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
— Romantic Times
Don’t miss Katherine Kingsley’s unforgettable novels:
In the Presence of Angels
Call Down the Moon
The Sound of Snow
Once Upon a Dream
The Wake of the Wind
Available from Dell
October 16, 1835
Alexandria, Egypt
Pip Merriem leaned on the railing of the ship, gazing out over the brilliant blue sea as the port of Alexandria came into sight. She released a deep, contented sigh. Finally. She was finally approaching the place she’d fought so long to see. Even as a child she’d dreamed of going to Egypt, and now here she was, about to embark on the adventure of her life.
Granted, her life was only twenty-seven years long, and although a great many people considered her over the hill, practically middle-aged and a spinster to boot, she felt as if she had just begun to live in this moment. Everything else had been nothing more than preparation — all her studies, her steadfast insistence on retaining her independence, the battles with her family merely steps on her path to her goal.
She brushed a blowing lock of auburn hair off her face and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring her hard-won victory, but she quickly opened them again so as not to miss a second of the miraculous sight before her. An amused smile flashed over her face as she considered that in the end, she really had to thank Isabel Bryson, of all people, for making that victory possible. The thought struck her as ironic, since Isabel had spent the entire journey confined to her cabin, suffering from seasickness. She wondered if Isabel was going to make a suitable traveling companion, given her performance to date. There were greater hardships yet to face, and she could only pray that Isabel would prove to be of stronger mettle than she had shown thus far.
Still, if Isabel hadn’t presented herself as the perfect chaperon, Pip wouldn’t have been standing there gazing at the coast of Egypt. Poor but educated, Isabel had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Pip’s family had been forced to capitulate to her wishes, since she’d finally managed to produce the ideal person to accompany her. Isabel was plain, sober, not given to flights of fancy, and eminently respectable, even though she was as old and unmarried as Pip.
Turning to her friend, who still looked slightly green about the gills even though they were in calm waters, Pip grinned, her sapphire eyes sparkling. “What do you think?” she asked. “Doesn’t the sight before you surpass everything you imagined in your wildest dreams? I certainly never expected the light to be quite so brilliant, or the sun so bright, or the buildings so impossibly white. Isn’t it glorious?”
Isabel glanced at her with no trace of the enthusiasm she had shown back in Norfolk when she’d accepted the job of paid companion on Pip’s wild adventure. “Oh, Portia, it is ... it is lovely,” she replied in a flat voice. “Forgive me if my eagerness doesn’t match yours, but I shall not feel comfortable until we are off this awful ship and on steady ground. I am sure that I will recover my composure then.”
“I’m sorry that you have endured such difficulties. If I had known that you would be so badly affected by sea travel, I would never have suggested you make the journey at all.” She bit her lip, then laughed. “Although in all honesty I have to say I cannot regret that I did.”
To Pip’s surprise, Isabel suddenly burst into tears, sobs racking her body. Bewildered, Pip drew Isabel into her arms and attempted to comfort her. “What is it, my dear? What causes you such distress? We shall be docked in no time at all, and once we reach Cairo you will be so much more comfortable. Shepheard’s Hotel is said to be all that is luxurious.”
“Portia ... Portia, my dear friend, I have not been entirely honest with you,” Isabel mumbled into the embroidered handkerchief Pip had pressed into her hand. She looked up at Pip with anguished eyes, the brown of her irises blurred by fresh tears.
“Not — not been honest with me?” Alarmed, Pip ended the embrace and took a step back, intently examining Isabel’s face, the freckles standing out against her pale skin. “I don’t understand. You said that you shared my fascination with Egyptology, that you wished for nothing more than to accompany me. Has the seasickness made you so ill that you wish yourself back in England?”
“No! Oh, no, anything but that,” Isabel cried, screwing the handkerchief into a tight knot. “I had to get away, and when you made your proposal — well, it seemed like the perfect solution.” She dropped her gaze to the deck, her shoulders hunched in misery. “There is no going back, at least not at present.” She sighed heavily. “I have made my bed, I must lie in it, and God will make His judgment upon me.”
A prickle of alarm ran down Pip’s spine. Isabel’s distress was clearly caused by more than severe mal de mer. “I don’t understand you,” she said, frowning. “What could God possibly judge you for? You are all that is good and kind, Isabel. If God is going to judge anyone, I shall be His target, for I have been nothing but disobedient and headstrong my entire life — you know how often I’ve flown in the face of my family’s wishes.”
Isabel said nothing.
Pip attempted a smile and continued. “Most recently, for example, I refused the offer of the Duke of Worcestershire, a considerable honor at my advanced age, according to my grandfather. I, on the other hand, felt that marrying a complete bore with an overinflated opinion of his own worth would have been a considerable dishonor to me.”
“At least someone offered for you, and certainly not for the first time,” Isabel said, blowing her nose loudly into a linen handkerchief. “I have never been offered for by anyone, ever, and I’m not foolish enough to delude myself as to the reason why. Unlike you, I am not attractive in any way, and I have no dowry to offer. But oh, Portia, I did think I had finally found love and would at last be happy and looked after and have my own house and — and — ”
Another flood of tears overwhelmed her, and she fell back into Pip’s arms.
“My dear Isabel,” Pip said, when her companion finally regained her senses, “you never made mention of a gentleman suitor. Did someone lead you on and then disappoint you? Who was the blackguard?” Her blood boiled at the thought.
Isabel refused to meet her gaze. “I cannot speak his name,” she whispered. “I made a fool of myself and what transpired is no one’s fault but my own.”
“Never mind, my dear. I think I understand,” Pip murmured, her heart breaking for her old friend. She knew that Isabel’s greatest wish had always been to marry, though her chances of making a suitable match were slim, given her unfortunate situation.
Pip had met Isabel during their second Season in London, when they had been drawn together by a mutual interest in academics, which none of the other debutantes, and certainly not the young dandies, shared.
Pip hadn’t given two shakes about Isabel’s plain features or her lack of fortune. She enjoyed conversing intelligently on a number of subjects they both enjoyed, so she had championed Isabel, taking a deep pleasure in forcing the idiots of society to accept into their midst a girl whom they otherwise would have shunned.
That the social elite accepted Isabel only to please Pip, who had somehow become the toast of the ton, made her revile the members of polite society all the more.
Nothing had changed in the years that followed. Oddly, the more Pip defied society’s strictures, the more she was admired, being hailed as an “original.” Isabel hadn’t been so lucky. They shared a love of knowledge and a dedication to furthering their education, but what was deemed endearingly eccentric in Pip was condemned in Isabel. All of this because Pip was considered a beauty, and Isabel anything but. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Pip was also the stepdaughter of the Marquess of Alconleigh and had an independent fortune of her own. That by itself was enough to put a mist into a man’s eyes when it came to his interpretation of beauty.
Pip released Isabel and took her trembling hands, squeezing them gently. “Let us forget about this ridiculous person who has caused you such distress. If indeed he is what sent you away from England, then we shall have your heart healed in no time at all. Just think, Isabel, of what awaits us. All of Egypt is about to be spread at our feet, and you will find yourself so transported that you will be able to think of nothing else.”
“Nothing else,” Isabel said, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting Pip’s. “I wish that were so, but I fear that is not the case. I have lied to you mightily, and you will be right to condemn me, even cast me off, for my abominable deceit, which I can no longer hide. Or at least not for much longer.” She released Pip’s hands and laid a palm over her belly. “Do you understand now the nature of my transgression, why I have been so ill?”
Pip stared at her in horror as a hundred thoughts, a hundred concerns, rushed through her mind. Isabel, pregnant? Her condition changed everything.
Pip’s bright, wonderful dream collapsed beneath her. As the great noise of the dropping anchor sounded, she couldn’t help thinking that her dream had been only within footsteps of realization.
She wanted to scream her rage to the world, but instead she silently took Isabel by the hand and led her down below, all the while trying desperately to think of how she was going to deal with the catastrophe that had befallen them.
February 17, 1836
Luxor, Egypt
“Portia — oh, Portia, for the love of God, deliver me of this child!” Isabe...
Alexandria, Egypt
Pip Merriem leaned on the railing of the ship, gazing out over the brilliant blue sea as the port of Alexandria came into sight. She released a deep, contented sigh. Finally. She was finally approaching the place she’d fought so long to see. Even as a child she’d dreamed of going to Egypt, and now here she was, about to embark on the adventure of her life.
Granted, her life was only twenty-seven years long, and although a great many people considered her over the hill, practically middle-aged and a spinster to boot, she felt as if she had just begun to live in this moment. Everything else had been nothing more than preparation — all her studies, her steadfast insistence on retaining her independence, the battles with her family merely steps on her path to her goal.
She brushed a blowing lock of auburn hair off her face and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring her hard-won victory, but she quickly opened them again so as not to miss a second of the miraculous sight before her. An amused smile flashed over her face as she considered that in the end, she really had to thank Isabel Bryson, of all people, for making that victory possible. The thought struck her as ironic, since Isabel had spent the entire journey confined to her cabin, suffering from seasickness. She wondered if Isabel was going to make a suitable traveling companion, given her performance to date. There were greater hardships yet to face, and she could only pray that Isabel would prove to be of stronger mettle than she had shown thus far.
Still, if Isabel hadn’t presented herself as the perfect chaperon, Pip wouldn’t have been standing there gazing at the coast of Egypt. Poor but educated, Isabel had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Pip’s family had been forced to capitulate to her wishes, since she’d finally managed to produce the ideal person to accompany her. Isabel was plain, sober, not given to flights of fancy, and eminently respectable, even though she was as old and unmarried as Pip.
Turning to her friend, who still looked slightly green about the gills even though they were in calm waters, Pip grinned, her sapphire eyes sparkling. “What do you think?” she asked. “Doesn’t the sight before you surpass everything you imagined in your wildest dreams? I certainly never expected the light to be quite so brilliant, or the sun so bright, or the buildings so impossibly white. Isn’t it glorious?”
Isabel glanced at her with no trace of the enthusiasm she had shown back in Norfolk when she’d accepted the job of paid companion on Pip’s wild adventure. “Oh, Portia, it is ... it is lovely,” she replied in a flat voice. “Forgive me if my eagerness doesn’t match yours, but I shall not feel comfortable until we are off this awful ship and on steady ground. I am sure that I will recover my composure then.”
“I’m sorry that you have endured such difficulties. If I had known that you would be so badly affected by sea travel, I would never have suggested you make the journey at all.” She bit her lip, then laughed. “Although in all honesty I have to say I cannot regret that I did.”
To Pip’s surprise, Isabel suddenly burst into tears, sobs racking her body. Bewildered, Pip drew Isabel into her arms and attempted to comfort her. “What is it, my dear? What causes you such distress? We shall be docked in no time at all, and once we reach Cairo you will be so much more comfortable. Shepheard’s Hotel is said to be all that is luxurious.”
“Portia ... Portia, my dear friend, I have not been entirely honest with you,” Isabel mumbled into the embroidered handkerchief Pip had pressed into her hand. She looked up at Pip with anguished eyes, the brown of her irises blurred by fresh tears.
“Not — not been honest with me?” Alarmed, Pip ended the embrace and took a step back, intently examining Isabel’s face, the freckles standing out against her pale skin. “I don’t understand. You said that you shared my fascination with Egyptology, that you wished for nothing more than to accompany me. Has the seasickness made you so ill that you wish yourself back in England?”
“No! Oh, no, anything but that,” Isabel cried, screwing the handkerchief into a tight knot. “I had to get away, and when you made your proposal — well, it seemed like the perfect solution.” She dropped her gaze to the deck, her shoulders hunched in misery. “There is no going back, at least not at present.” She sighed heavily. “I have made my bed, I must lie in it, and God will make His judgment upon me.”
A prickle of alarm ran down Pip’s spine. Isabel’s distress was clearly caused by more than severe mal de mer. “I don’t understand you,” she said, frowning. “What could God possibly judge you for? You are all that is good and kind, Isabel. If God is going to judge anyone, I shall be His target, for I have been nothing but disobedient and headstrong my entire life — you know how often I’ve flown in the face of my family’s wishes.”
Isabel said nothing.
Pip attempted a smile and continued. “Most recently, for example, I refused the offer of the Duke of Worcestershire, a considerable honor at my advanced age, according to my grandfather. I, on the other hand, felt that marrying a complete bore with an overinflated opinion of his own worth would have been a considerable dishonor to me.”
“At least someone offered for you, and certainly not for the first time,” Isabel said, blowing her nose loudly into a linen handkerchief. “I have never been offered for by anyone, ever, and I’m not foolish enough to delude myself as to the reason why. Unlike you, I am not attractive in any way, and I have no dowry to offer. But oh, Portia, I did think I had finally found love and would at last be happy and looked after and have my own house and — and — ”
Another flood of tears overwhelmed her, and she fell back into Pip’s arms.
“My dear Isabel,” Pip said, when her companion finally regained her senses, “you never made mention of a gentleman suitor. Did someone lead you on and then disappoint you? Who was the blackguard?” Her blood boiled at the thought.
Isabel refused to meet her gaze. “I cannot speak his name,” she whispered. “I made a fool of myself and what transpired is no one’s fault but my own.”
“Never mind, my dear. I think I understand,” Pip murmured, her heart breaking for her old friend. She knew that Isabel’s greatest wish had always been to marry, though her chances of making a suitable match were slim, given her unfortunate situation.
Pip had met Isabel during their second Season in London, when they had been drawn together by a mutual interest in academics, which none of the other debutantes, and certainly not the young dandies, shared.
Pip hadn’t given two shakes about Isabel’s plain features or her lack of fortune. She enjoyed conversing intelligently on a number of subjects they both enjoyed, so she had championed Isabel, taking a deep pleasure in forcing the idiots of society to accept into their midst a girl whom they otherwise would have shunned.
That the social elite accepted Isabel only to please Pip, who had somehow become the toast of the ton, made her revile the members of polite society all the more.
Nothing had changed in the years that followed. Oddly, the more Pip defied society’s strictures, the more she was admired, being hailed as an “original.” Isabel hadn’t been so lucky. They shared a love of knowledge and a dedication to furthering their education, but what was deemed endearingly eccentric in Pip was condemned in Isabel. All of this because Pip was considered a beauty, and Isabel anything but. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Pip was also the stepdaughter of the Marquess of Alconleigh and had an independent fortune of her own. That by itself was enough to put a mist into a man’s eyes when it came to his interpretation of beauty.
Pip released Isabel and took her trembling hands, squeezing them gently. “Let us forget about this ridiculous person who has caused you such distress. If indeed he is what sent you away from England, then we shall have your heart healed in no time at all. Just think, Isabel, of what awaits us. All of Egypt is about to be spread at our feet, and you will find yourself so transported that you will be able to think of nothing else.”
“Nothing else,” Isabel said, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting Pip’s. “I wish that were so, but I fear that is not the case. I have lied to you mightily, and you will be right to condemn me, even cast me off, for my abominable deceit, which I can no longer hide. Or at least not for much longer.” She released Pip’s hands and laid a palm over her belly. “Do you understand now the nature of my transgression, why I have been so ill?”
Pip stared at her in horror as a hundred thoughts, a hundred concerns, rushed through her mind. Isabel, pregnant? Her condition changed everything.
Pip’s bright, wonderful dream collapsed beneath her. As the great noise of the dropping anchor sounded, she couldn’t help thinking that her dream had been only within footsteps of realization.
She wanted to scream her rage to the world, but instead she silently took Isabel by the hand and led her down below, all the while trying desperately to think of how she was going to deal with the catastrophe that had befallen them.
February 17, 1836
Luxor, Egypt
“Portia — oh, Portia, for the love of God, deliver me of this child!” Isabe...
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherSan Val
- Publication date2001
- ISBN 10 1417712562
- ISBN 13 9781417712564
- BindingHardcover
- Rating
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