Red Rose and Tiger Lily by L. T. Meade
Red Rose and Tiger Lily by L. T. Meade
It was a perfect summer's evening. The sun had just set, and purple, gold, violet, rose colour still filled the sky in the west. There was a tender new moon, looking like a silver bow, also to be seen; before long the evening star would be visible.
Hester Thornton stepped out of the drawing-room at the Grange, and, walking a little way down the broad gravel sweep, began to listen intently. Hester was about seventeen-a slender girl for her age. Her eyes were dark, her eyebrows somewhat strongly marked, her abundant hair, of a much lighter shade of brown, was coiled in close folds round her well-shaped head. Her lips were slightly compressed, her chin showed determination. Hester had not been beautiful as a child, and she was not beautiful as a girl, but her face was pleasant to look at, very bright when animated, very steadfast and sweet when in repose. The air was like nectar to her cheeks. She was naturally a pale girl, but a faint rose colour was now discernible in her complexion, and the look of expectation in her dark eyes made them charming.
A step was heard on the gravel behind, and she turned quickly.
"Is that you, father?" she exclaimed.
"Yes. Are not you very imprudent to come out at this hour in your thin house shoes, and with nothing on your head? There is a very heavy dew falling."
"Oh, I never take cold," replied Hester with a smile, which showed her even and pretty white teeth; "and I certainly shan't to-night," she continued, "for I am feeling far too excited."
Sir John Thornton was considered by most of his acquaintances (he could boast of scarcely any friends) as a reserved and almost repellent person, but now, as his eyes rested on his young daughter, something seemed to soften their expression; he took her slight hand and drew it affectionately through his arm.
"It takes a small thing to excite you, my love," he said; "but you always were of a turbulent disposition-just your poor mother over again."
Hester sighed faintly when Sir John spoke of his wife, then she quickly cheered up and said in an eager voice-
"You don't call it a little thing, father, to know that in a minute or two I shall welcome Nan back from school? Nan comes to-night-Annie Forest to-morrow. It would be difficult for any girl to want more to make her perfectly happy."
Sir John raised his brows.
"I only know Miss Forest by hearsay," he said, "so I will reserve my judgment upon her; but I do know Nan. She will upset the entire régime of the house. I like order, and she likes disorder. I like quiet meals, she likes uproarious ones. I hate shocks and she adores them. I am glad, of course, to welcome the child home, but at the same time I dread her arrival. I cannot possibly understand how it is that Mrs. Willis, who is supposed to be such a splendid instructor of youth, should not have brought Nan a little better into control. Now, you, my dear Hetty, are very different. You have passions and feelings-no one has them more strongly-but you keep them in check. Your reticence and your reserve please me much. In short, Hester, no father could have a more admirable daughter to live with him. I am pleased with you, my dear; the experiment of having you home from school to look after my house has turned out well. There is nothing I would not do to please you, and while your friend Miss Forest is here, I will do my best to render her visit a success. The only discordant element will be Nan. I cannot understand why Mrs. Willis has not got Nan into the same control she had you in."
"You forget," said Hester, "that I am seventeen and Nan only eight. No one ever yet could say 'No' to Nan. Father, don't you hear the carriage wheels? She is coming-I know she is coming. Please forgive me, I must run to meet her."
Sir John released his daughter's hand, and Hester flew with the speed of an arrow from a bow up the long avenue. She was not mistaken. Her keen ears had detected the smooth roll of wheels. A landau drawn by a pair of horses had even now entered the lodge gates. Hester, looking up, heard some gay voices, some childish laughter. Then an imperious voice shouted to the coachman to pull up the horses and Nan Thornton and another girl sprang out of the carriage and ran to Hester's side.
Confused utterances, sundry embraces, the quick intermingling of ejaculations, kisses, commands, explanatory remarks-all rose on the sweet night air.
"Hetty, you look quite grown up. Please, Jenkins, you can drive on to the house. I'm not getting in again. Aren't you glad to see me, Het? I have come back a greater tease and torment than ever."
"Yes, Nan, delighted-more than delighted. Oh! you sweet, how nice it is to feel you kissing me! Why, Annie, how did you happen to come to-night? I didn't expect you until to-morrow. I was wondering how I could endure the next twenty-four hours of expectation, even with Nan to keep me company, and now you are here. Oh, how very, very glad I am."
"Kiss me, Hester," said Annie. "Nan and I concocted this little plan. We thought we'd take you by surprise. Oh dear, oh dear, I feel so wild and excited that I'm sure I shall be just as troublesome as I used to be before you tamed me down at school. Now then, Nan, you are not to have all the kisses. Hester, dear, how sweet and gracious and prim and lady-of-the-manorish you do look!"
"I don't care what I look like, I only know what I feel," replied Hester: "about the happiest girl in England. But don't let us stand here talking any longer, or father will take it into his head that I am catching cold in the night air. Here, Nan, take my arm. Annie, my other side is at your disposal. Now, do let us come to the house."
The girls began to move slowly down the long winding avenue. Nan had the pretty, soft dark eyes which used to characterise her as a little child. Her abundant fluffy golden hair hung below her waist. Her baby lips and sweet little face looked as charming as of old. She was a very pretty child, and promised to be a beautiful woman by-and-by. Her beauty, however, was nothing at all beside the radiant sort of loveliness which Annie Forest possessed. She was a creature all moods, all expression, all life, all movement. She had early given promise of remarkable beauty, and this had been more than fulfilled. Hester glanced at her now and again in the most loving admiration.
"It is good to have you back, Nan," she said, "and it is delightful to know that you have come at last to pay your long, long promised visit," she continued, looking at Annie. "Well, here we are at home. Nan, you must go up and show yourself to nurse this minute. Annie, let me take you to your room."
"Dear old nursey," said Nan; she rushed up the stairs, shouting her old nurse's name as she went; her quick footsteps flew down the long corridor, she pushed open the baize door which separated the nurseries from the rest of the house, and in a moment found herself in the old room.
Nan's nurse was a cherry-cheeked old woman of between sixty and seventy years of age.
"Eh, my darling, and how did you get back without me hearing the sound of the carriage wheels!" she exclaimed. "Eh dear, eh dear, I meant to be down on the front steps to greet you, Miss Nan. Eh, but you look bonny, and let me examine your hair, dear-I hope they cut the points regular. If they don't, it will break away and not keep even."
"Oh, don't bother about my hair now," said Nan. "What does hair signify when a child has just got home, and when she wants a kiss more than anything else in the world? Now, nursey, sit down in that low armchair and let us have a real hug. That's better; and how are you? You look as jolly as ever."
"So I am, my pet; I'm as happy as the day is long since Miss Hetty has come home and took the housekeeping over. I was in a mortal fret before, with her at school and you at school, but now I think the danger is past."
"What danger?" asked Nan; "you always were a dear old croak, you know, nurse."
"Yes, pet, perhaps so; but I didn't fret without reason, you may be quite sure of that."
"Well, what were you afraid of? You know I'm an awfully curious girl, so you must tell me."
"It's a sin to be too curious, Miss Nan-it leads people into untold mischief. Curiosity was the sin of Eve, and it's best to nip it in the bud while you're young. Now let me brush out your hair, my darling, and get you ready for supper."
"Yes, in a minute," said Nan. She pushed back the shady hat in which she had traveled, and seated herself afresh on her nurse's knee.
"How do my kisses feel?" she asked, breathing a very soft one on each of the old woman's cheeks.
"Eh, dear," said the nurse, "they're like fresh cream and strawberries."
"Well, you shall have six more if you tell me what your fears were."
Nurse looked admiringly back at Nan.
"You're just the audacious, contrary, troublesome bit of a thing you always were," she said; "but somehow I can't resist you. There's no fear now of anything happening, so you needn't be in a taking; but what did put me out was this: I thought your father, Sir John, might be bringing a new mistress here."
"What! a new mistress?-A housekeeper, do you mean?" Nan's brown eyes were open at their widest.
"No, dearie, no, a wife-someone to take the head of the house. Men like Sir John must have their comforts, and a house without a mistress isn't as it ought to be. But there, Miss Hetty is here now, and that makes everything right."
"But a new mistress," repeated Nan-"a new wife for father. Why, she-she'd be a stepmother. Oh, how I'd hate her."
"Well, darling, there's not going to be any such person; it was only an idle fear of your poor old nurse's that will never come to anything. Forget that I said it to you, Miss Nan. Oh, my word! and there's the gong, so supper is ready, and Sir John won't like to be kept waiting. Let me brush out your hair, I won't be a minute. Now, there's my pretty. It's good to have you back again, Miss Nancy. Only I misdoubt me that you'll turn the house topsy-turvey, as you always and ever did."
While nurse was speaking, she was deftly and quickly changing Nan's travel-stained frock for a white one, and was tying a coral pink sash round her waist.
"Now you're ready," she said, giving the little figure a final pat.
Nan shook out her golden mane and went demurely downstairs-more demurely than was her wont. The dawning of possible trouble filled her sweet eyes. A new wife-a possible stepmother! Oh, no, by no possibility could such a horror be coming; nevertheless, her full cup of happiness was vaguely troubled by the thought.
* * *
Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.
Kallie, a mute who had been ignored by her husband for five years since their wedding, also suffered the loss of her pregnancy due to her cruel mother-in-law. After the divorce, she learned that her ex-husband had quickly gotten engaged to the woman he truly loved. Holding her slightly rounded belly, she realized that he had never really cared for her. Determined, she left him behind, treating him as a stranger. Yet, after she left, he scoured the globe in search of her. When their paths crossed once more, Kallie had already found new happiness. For the first time, he pleaded humbly, "Please don't leave me..." But Kallie's response was firm and dismissive, cutting through any lingering ties. "Get lost!"
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."
Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town's richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. "Way to go, honey!"
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