Page 1 of Stolen by My Knave
PROLOGUE
Lady Elizabeth Kendall sat in the library of her family home and stared out the window. Her two younger brothers, Christian and Nicholas ran across the lawn chasing one of their kittens. The boys were identical down to their dark brown hair, green eyes, striped shirts and matching breeches. They were both rather plump and didn’t seem to show any signs of losing their baby fat. Christian finally caught the black fluff ball and squeezed him tight. It squirmed out of his arms and took off once again. It was a game they played often—one Elizabeth dubbed “chase the kitty.”
Poor thing had to suffer at the hands of the twins. She looked down at their other kitten, safely asleep in her lap. It was the opposite of the one outside, as white as the other was black, and had a better nature. The black one was more suited to the ten-year-old twins’s unruly nature.
“What do you think, Snowball?” Elizabeth petted the kitten. It purred louder with each stroke of her fingers over its soft fur. “Do you think Shadow likes the twins chasing him?”
Snowball purred louder in response. Elizabeth decided it was an affirmation. Thunder rumbled in the distance and she glanced back outside. Dark clouds moved over head, declaring rain to be imminent. Someone should make the boys come back inside. Where was the governess? Nicholas ran past the window and scooped up a black fluff ball and headed toward a nearby door. Good, at least Nicholas and Shadow were smart enough to seek shelter. Where was Christian?
“What are you looking at, Ellie?”
Elizabeth turned to the sound of Christian’s voice. Besides her mother, she was the only other person who could tell the twins apart. They were identical, but in opposite ways—a mirror reflection of each other. For example, they each had a dimple, but Christian’s was on his left cheek and Nicholas’s was on the right. If they didn’t smile they could pretend to be the other and fool almost any one on the estate. It was their most noticeable difference. They liked dressing alike so they could play tricks on the servants. Elizabeth hoped they’d grow out of it at some point.
“Nicholas picked up Shadow and ran to the nearest door,” she replied. “Did you grow bored chasing him through the field?”
He shook his head. “I could feel a storm coming. I told Nick to grab Shadow and follow me inside. It’s not my fault he’s so slow.”
“Am not,” Nicholas said. Shadow jumped out of his arms and ran across the room. He launched himself onto Elizabeth’s lap and dug his claws into Snowball’s fur. A loud screech filled the room as the two kittens rolled off her lap and hit the floor. “Shadow is too fast.”
“No, he isn’t,” Christian countered. “I can catch him just fine.” He stuck his lip out in defiance.
“Ellie, tell him he’s being ridiculous. He can’t catch Shadow any better than I can,” Nicholas demanded.
They both turned toward her and folded their arms across their chests. Christian tapped his left foot impatiently, and Nicholas, his right. Would they always do the exact opposite of each other? Elizabeth shook her head. What was she going to do with them? Why ever had she thought she’d like having a brother? Well that was the problem. She’d wanted one, not two. Neither one could say her name when they first learned to speak, and she’d become Ellie to them. It was easier to respond to them than correct them. Besides, she rather liked the nickname.
“Both Shadow and Snowball are fast when they want to be. If they don’t want to be caught, you’re not going to get them. It has nothing to do with how quick either one of you are.” Thunder clapped in the distance and rain beat against the window pane. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“I don’t want to,” Christian said rebelliously. “You want to play boring games.”
Nicolas looked eager, but after a quick glance he decided to follow his older brother’s lead. “Chris is right. You never want to do anything fun.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to do with them. If they didn’t have some sort of distraction they’d eventually end up in fisticuffs. They’d fight, break something, and conveniently forget about it. They were the masters of denial. They never did anything wrong.
She stood and roamed over to the mirror on the wall. An idea already forming in her mind. “How about I tell you a story?” Her eyes went unfocused and she could almost make out images forming in the glass.
“Oh, yes,” Christian agreed. “You and Mama always tell the best stories.”
“Tell us about Captain Jack again,” Nick demanded.
Her brothers were rather bloodthirsty and loved the story about the infamous pirate. Their mother said it was a tale their grandmother used to tell her as a child. Pirates couldn’t be trusted, but Captain Jack seemed honorable enough. Of course, he was make-believe, so that was probably why. She stared into the mirror and shook her head.
Was that? No, it couldn’t be.
“Very well,” she began. “A long time ago, a lady embarked on a voyage to England to marry the Duke of Southington.”
“No,” Christian said. “Skip to the good part.”
“I can’t do that. Every story has a beginning, middle, and an end. If you want to hear it, we start here.” She turned to face him. “Do you wish me to continue?”
“Yes,” they both said in unison.
Elizabeth smiled and started again, “Lady Evelyn’s father was very strict, so she looked forward to having a life away from his harsh demands. What she hadn’t been prepared for was pirates attacking her ship.”
Elizabeth turned to glance in the mirror. It fogged over and a mist appeared to swirl from inside of it. She continued speaking, knowing the story by heart. The twins didn’t seem to notice her attention was divided between them, the story, and the mysterious fog in the mirror.
She shook her head to clear it and then returned her attention to the mirror. The fog lifted slightly and a beautiful man appeared in the distance. He was walking through some foliage she didn’t recognize. What kind of trees were those? They had weird, pointed leaves with little brown balls underneath them. The trunks were long and thin and seemed to touch the sky.
A man with long, golden-blond hair stood on the other side of the mirror. Was she imagining the story itself? Was this a figment of her imagination? She’d heard the story and told it so many times she was now beginning to create it in her mind. He wasn’t really in the mirror. That was ridiculous. Another man joined him—and he looked mad. Was that the crew member who’d pushed Lady Evelyn over the side of the ship?
