by Rue Allyn
When Rhianna’s voice silenced, there was no echo of it. All that could be heard were the wind and the waves.
Numbness set in. Even as Thayne’s fingers tangled through her hair and his uninjured arm embraced her, she felt nothing. Pressing her head to his chest, Thayne shielded her from the sight of Desmond’s body. And there, in the blackness, her face hidden against Thayne’s breast, Rhianna kept her eyes tightly shut, gasping for air that would satisfy her lungs.
• • •
The blood that soaked through the arm of Brighton’s white shirt caught Lord Kingsley’s eye as Thayne and Rhianna entered his bedroom. Mauvreen, who had insisted that Weathersby take her to Kingsley Manor after Rhianna left, sat next to him, a basin of water beside her as she pressed a wet cloth to his forehead. Guilford had not rested since Thayne departed Kingsley Manor. Word reached him quickly as to where the night had led, and Desmond’s request for a duel. Any and all hopes of keeping the concluding events from him for the night were dashed.
“Oh, my dear child!” Mauvreen laid down the cloth and ran to embrace Rhianna, as if she were truly her own child.
Rhianna, using her last ounce of energy to bring Mauvreen into her arms, pressed her body tightly against her own.
“We are well,” Rhianna managed, answering the question that was foremost in the minds of all.
Weathersby sighed with relief; Mauvreen wiped away tears. Dr. Logan attempted to remove Rhianna’s makeshift bandage from Thayne’s upper arm, anxious to see the damage himself.
Lord Kingsley, his breathing slow and steady, but deep, and his manner bracing, patiently awaited the answers to his other questions. After Thayne appealed for the doctor to wait outside, he and Rhianna both made their way to Lord Kingsley’s bedside, she on his left and he on his right. His suspicions were evident; Rhianna preferred to imagine him prepared for news of Desmond’s death. Thayne’s eyes confirmed thus and a deeper breath followed, as Lord Kingsley’s head fell against his pillow.
“Did you kill him quickly?” he asked Thayne.
“I did,” he said, his voice feeling, yet final.
Guilford nodded, his eyes low, accepting. When they rose again, he knew there was more.
“Lydia appeared,” Thayne proceeded.
Lord Kingsley was at once alert. He clearly did not anticipate this.
“It was nearly that very moment,” Thayne continued. “She had discovered your will and aimed her pistol at Rhianna — ”
“Lord Kingsley,” Rhianna interrupted, seeing this was too long a recount for him, “she jumped from the cliffs. Lord Brighton and Lord Thorngate tried to stop her. They fell to their breasts on the ground to reach out for her, but she was too quick.”
She took his hand in her own and his fingers closed around hers. Visibly shocked, he hardly flinched as Mauvreen approached and again applied the cold cloth to his neck and forehead.
“I’m so very sorry,” Rhianna expressed.
Silence overtook the room as Lord Kingsley contemplated this report. Some minutes went by as Rhianna watched him struggle to come to terms with the deaths of Lydia and Desmond who, no matter how wicked, were still his wife of thirty years and the boy he raised from birth.
“Let us discuss details at another time,” he said at last, taking Rhianna’s face in his hand. “My girls are safe. That is all that matters to me now.”
Thorngate entered. Seeing the news had been given, he removed his hat and quickly offered his condolences.
“Lord Kingsley, I understand the doctor expects your health will improve,” Thorngate remarked hopefully.
“There is no reason to suspect otherwise,” Lord Kingsley verified. “It will be a long road, undoubtedly, but in some months’ time, I expect to be back to my old self.”
“Throwing dinners and balls,” Mauvreen positively assured him.
“Preferably,” Guilford replied, “a wedding.”
Epilogue
Dearest Countess Soleil Deveraux,
It seems but yesterday that we were children together, mere acquaintances at Madame Chandelle’s — how different things are! We are grown and you are a married woman. I admit that I envy you tremendously. Thayne and I still have some weeks to go. I know I have said it before, but I must say it again — I am so sorry I could not be there for your ceremony. I appreciate your understanding I could not leave Audra at such a time.
Happily, I can report that Lord Kingsley’s health is vastly improved and he has only this morning told me he will allow Audra to join us on our trip to France. Audra was beside herself with delight at news of said permission, and I shall be delighted to have her with me, as well. I think it shall be an excellent distraction for her, although she is doing very well, considering her loss. Mauvreen, my childhood neighbor, as you know, has been a great source of comfort to her and will prove to be an excellent governess, I am sure of it. Since she moved into the manor they have gotten along famously, and as I prepare to move to Ravensleigh it relieves me to see Audra will be in such good hands. Of course, Lord Crispin Brighton has also been an infinite source of comfort to her, but that is something else entirely. I will save my stories there for when I see you.
Give all my love to your family. I am particularly glad to hear that Philippe is well. The moment I walk down the aisle I shall be at your side.
I remain & co,
Rhianna
“Come along, now, you’ve been at that letter all morning. Is it too much for an old woman to ask for you to try on your gown for its final fitting?”
Rhianna smiled at Mauvreen as she sealed up her letter, the blue-and-gold drawing room never before seeming so peaceful in all her days at Kingsley Manor. Audra drew quietly near the open window that overlooked the front approach and the spring air carried the tunes of baby sparrows in their nest above. The house was still and undisturbed by the evil that had plagued it for so many years.
“Lord Kingsley will be here any moment,” Rhianna reminded her. “When I return, I promise.”
“I just love to see it on you,” Mauvreen returned, wistfully. “It’s like seeing it on your mother all over again.”
Rhianna’s smile widened as she recalled the gown Hallie wore in the portrait Rhianna first saw in the lodge as a little girl — a portrait now kept safely beside her bed. Coincidentally, it was the same gown Rhianna would wear on her wedding day, accented by her mother’s brooch.
“I didn’t know you knew her mother, Miss Mauvreen,” Audra interjected innocently.
“Oh yes,” Mauvreen affirmed. “I used to be her governess when she was little like you.”
Audra smiled. “I imagine she liked you, as I do. After all, if I can’t have Miss Braden forever, I suppose you’ll do very well as my governess.”
“I have no doubt that she will,” Rhianna declared. “And I hope you will both be at Ravensleigh every day.”
“Of course!” Audra decreed. “After we return from France!”
Audra’s enchantment with the prospect of seeing something beyond Thornton, England came through in her voice. The words danced from her lips and rang through the air like a bell.
A servant announced Lord Kingsley, and he entered.
He greeted all, adding, “My apologies, Miss Braden, for the delay. I just received a letter from a Mr. James Middleton whom I think would be an excellent curate for the Thornton Church.”
“Indeed!”
“Mr. Middleton has been in need of a parish since the owner’s son of his previous post was ordained. He comes very highly recommended and, not only, but his wife is originally from Thornton. Miss Braden, I would imagine you knew her. She used to live across the street from the church.”
“Brenna?” Rhianna cried. “We lost touch so many years ago.”
“Well, if you approve, Mr. and Mrs. Middleton are available to move in a month’s time.”
“Yes! I could imagine nothing better,” Rhianna agreed.
“So it is settled. Good! We can finalize the paperwork this af
ternoon. When you return from France, you and all the Brighton family must come to Kingsley Manor to join us in having dinner with them.”
Audra squealed with delight at the idea of new friends, paired with the mention of France and dinner with the Brightons.
Raising the cloak that was folded over his arm, Lord Kingsley asked, “So, shall we?”
“We shall.”
“Where are you going?” Audra asked, as Rhianna followed Lord Kingsley to the door.
Maureen interposed. “Now, now, Miss Kingsley, mind your business. Don’t you think they would have invited you if they could have brought you along?”
“We won’t be long,” Rhianna promised.
Audra nodded submissively and watched through the window as Rhianna and Guilford each mounted a horse and rode down the approach.
• • •
She had stood before Hallie’s grave before, but now it was different. It was no longer the mysterious grave of an unknown woman, entreating the curiosity of her young mind to discover the secrets of a life gone by. No, rather, it was the grave of her mother, and she knelt before it a daughter, her father beside her. There, the three of them remained silently in each other’s presence, their little family together in the only way possible.
The forest was quiet but for the shovel that struck the earth above Hallie’s final resting place. Using the blackened tool from the remains of the lodge, Guilford dug a hole before the tombstone. Then, with several bare root roses from her satchel in hand, Rhianna placed them into the ground and covered them with the surrounding soil. The original garden may have burned to nothing in the fire that led to the cabin’s ultimate collapse, but Rhianna and Guilford hoped to see it back to its original splendor in a few seasons’ time.
The trees around them seemed, as always, to watch and to whisper. Rhianna felt them pleased, as Hallie would have been, to see her and Guilford together. And despite his grievous sickness, brought on by Lydia’s greed and desperation, both knew that, without it, this moment would not be possible.
As she looked out over what remained of the lodge, Rhianna considered the possibility of moving Hallie to the churchyard. Over twenty years she had been buried in the woods; certainly, there would be no scandal in having her in the churchyard now. But turning to Lord Kingsley to suggest it, she bit her lip. Seeing the way he was curved low to the earth, his cloaked back arched, his grey head bent forward, his eyes as sad as they were those twenty years back, she realized Guilford could not grieve the way he needed to in the open, Thornton graveyard. Not only, but in such a circumstance there would be no visiting Hallie together, for the world could never know of their relationship as father and daughter. The notion of moving Hallie faded almost as quickly as it appeared.
These few moments’ of silent reflection passed until, dusting as much of the dirt from her hands as possible, Rhianna took one of Guilford’s hands in her own. She smiled faintly at him, presenting him with his top hat. She was happy to see him smile in return as he received it and they rose to their feet. The expression told her what she had been hoping all along: that in a relationship with a daughter the world denied, Guilford Kingsley was at peace with the small amount of harmony that life had offered him.
• • •
The night before the wedding, the Brightons arrived at Kingsley Manor. It was there they would stay, before traveling together to Thornton Church for the morning ceremony. Quickly, they shuffled, one after another, into the Kingsley drawing room, excitement billowing in the air. Smiles were wide and appeared quite permanent, and there was not one who seemed willing to attempt a removal. The occasion was altogether too cheerful; the smiles would remain into the days ahead.
Only Thayne and Rhianna stayed behind. Slipping from the crowd before ever he entered, Thayne met Rhianna on the portico of Kingsley Manor.
“I wonder how long before they realize we are gone,” Rhianna smirked.
“Much too quickly,” Thayne assured her, raising the back of her hand to his lips.
“You are quite the gentleman tonight.”
Thayne grinned mischievously. “Tomorrow I shall not be so content to kiss your hand.”
He leaned in to kiss her properly, but movement in the window of the drawing room captured her eye and twisted her neck. Turning to the object of her attention, Thayne shook his head at the sight of Crispin and Audra as they twirled and spun, no doubt to the tune of a song only they could hear, laughing in a swell of infatuation.
“Will you tell her?” Thayne asked his bride.
Rhianna turned her eyes to him again, this time without distraction. Thayne’s stubble of black beard arrested her and she wondered how she ever looked aside previously.
“When she is older,” she mused. “I can’t tell you how awful it is, hearing her call me ‘Miss Braden.’”
“Mmm,” he considered, examining her from all angles. “No, that won’t do, will it, Miss Rhianna Kingsley?”
Rhianna laughed at the sound of her birth name, but Thayne shook his head.
“No, that won’t do, either.”
“Won’t it?” she replied.
“No, indeed, I rather think Lady Rhianna Brighton suits you better.”
He smiled at the sound of it, and she returned the gesture.
“I am beginning to wonder at my habit of changing names so frequently,” she quipped.
“Well, then,” he told her, leaning in for the kiss his lips demanded, “let us make this the last time.”
About the Author
Amanda L. V. Shalaby lives just outside of New York City with her husband, Matthew, her two Shih Tzu dogs, Huntley Rochester and Isabella Jane, and a Persian cat named Sebastian. She is a member of The Romance Writers of America (RWA). Rhianna is her debut novel.
More from This Author
Audra by Amanda L.V. Shalaby
Katie’s Hero
Cody Young
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
www.crimsonromance.com
Copyright © 2012 by Cody Young
ISBN 10: 1-4405-5683-0
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5683-8
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5684-9
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5684-5
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com
The Royal Air Force has a motto, “per ardua ad astra,” which means “through struggle to the stars.” I think about that motto a lot while I’m writing, especially when I’m writing about love. This book is dedicated to those who have struggled, and to those who are still searching for the right person to love.
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
About the Author
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Prologue
Oct
ober 1940
The air raid siren wailed and Katie felt another contraction surging.
“You can’t drop it here, girl, we’ve got to get to the shelter!”
Katie felt someone tug at her sleeve, pulling her along, urging her to hurry. As the contraction eased, she opened her eyes and saw her roommate Joan’s concerned face.
“I need a doctor!” Katie’s water broke and ran down her legs, fluid tinged pink with blood.
Joan looked terrified. “In this? Are you mad! You’ll be needing an undertaker if you don’t hurry up.”
They ran around the corner and into the next street. Ahead they could see a crowd of people all pushing and shoving, hurrying down into the Tube station. A bottleneck was forming by the entrance.
The first bomb hit a few streets away, and the girls were buffeted several feet along the road, like a couple of pieces of litter picked up by the wind.
“For the baby’s sake, get me to a doctor,” begged Katie.
“We’ll see about getting one when the raid’s over,” Joan said. “Babies take ages.”
“Are you sure about that? Oh … Holy Mary, Mother of God … ” Katie said, hoping the familiar words would chase away her pain. A man with a briefcase held over his head nearly knocked Katie off her feet, fighting to get past her, jostling to get to the entrance.
“Silly Irish cow,” the young man said. “Get out of the way!”
Joan was angry. “She’s having a baby, Mister. You could help her, if you had an ounce of humanity in you!”
But he disappeared down into the shelter along with everyone else.
Katie couldn’t move. She couldn’t think about anything except the ferocious pain that held her in its grip. “Joan, go! You get down the stairs now, I’ll follow.”