The Duchess's Descendants (Jordinia Book 3)

by C. K. Brooke

  “But there’s so much to love about both of you,” he insisted tenderly. “Johanna, would that I could marry you, but you’re a duchess’s daughter. And I’m just a guard.”

  Her breath caught. So that was how he felt? “But…you told my brother I was as good as a sister to you! You said you’d never lay a hand on me.”

  “I only meant that I respect you, Joni. I always have.”

  “What’s to respect?” She held out her arms, letting slip a humorless, self-deprecating laugh, though her heart was weightless.

  “Look at how you carry yourself.” His gaze softened. “Upon the passing of your parents, and all throughout your state with Ayla, you were a pillar of grace and dignity.”

  “I was falling apart inside.” A traitorous tear slid down her cheek, the first in a long time. “I still am.”

  “Even when you fall apart,” he gently caught the tear with his finger, “you are still more whole than anyone I know. As for not touching you,” he lowered his hand, “I only said I wouldn’t. Not that I don’t want to.”

  She was too astounded to speak.

  And she didn’t have to, for at that moment came an awful squabbling in the corridor, echoing with the angry voices of men. Bram turned on his heel. Startled, Johanna followed him.

  At first, she couldn’t make out who was who. The corridor was dimly lit, and too many uniforms blended together. She was speechless when two of her brothers, Felix and Andrew, emerged at the center of it all, binding a struggling figure between them.

  “Lady Johanna,” barked Officer Terrance, striding forth, “at your brothers’ behest, we regret to bring forth your fiancé.”

  “Former,” spat Drew. Together, he and Felix threw the suspect to the floor at her feet.

  “Apologize,” Felix snarled at him, “to our sister.”

  Jude Covington tried to rise, but Drew kicked him down. “My darling…please. I beg your forgiveness. It was only a m-moment of weakness….”

  “What’s going on?” Johanna demanded, shrinking away from his groveling.

  “We have caught Lord Covington committing treason,” pronounced Officer Terrance, regarding him with flinty eyes. “Not only was he in a…shall we say, compromising position with the Countess of Donhoffan—”

  “En flagrante delicto,” muttered Felix with disgust.

  Officer Terrance continued, “But we witnessed his confession to her that his only interest is in your dowry.”

  Johanna’s eyes widened.

  “Scum.” Drew kicked him again, for good measure.

  “Vicious lies, Johanna! I swear,” cried Jude. “Whatever they think they heard—”

  Johanna backed away, her repulsion for him cemented.

  “Get him out of here,” Bram commanded the officers sternly, “before he alarms the baby.”

  “Get up.” Drew shoved the earl with his shoe. “We’ve got a special place for traitors like you. Called a cell.”

  “She’s my daughter,” howled Jude as they carried him off, a dozen boots trooping down the granite floors.

  “You don’t deserve to kiss the ground she shall walk on,” Johanna bellowed after him, fists balled at her sides.

  Was it possible to feel both numb and like she was imploding at the same time? She had to calm herself, lest she start shaking. It felt surreal to watch the men disappear, dragging Jude with them. She wasn’t getting married tomorrow. Her fiancé was a traitor.

  Just like that, her uncertainty, her agony over wedding him was over.

  But nothing was ever so simple, was it? Ayla still had a future ahead of her, one that might never involve a father. Johanna, too, had a future…if only she could have any idea what it held.

  “I’m so sorry.” Bram reached for her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I think I’ll be….” She stopped to look into his eyes, round with concern for her, regarding her as though nothing on earth were more important.

  Johanna gathered her breath. Her world had been rocked and shaken so many times in the last few years, yet there she was, facing the only one who seemed to be able to steady it.

  Everything around her disappeared as she stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around his middle, and he reciprocated, receiving her in his bearlike embrace. Fusing into him, her head against his solid heartbeat, she passed through a purging fire. All that was inessential melted off, stripping her of everything that no longer mattered. It was only the two of them, with no time, no titles, no space or barriers between them.

  Something within her shattered, but not in a bad way. It wasn’t anything precious, like a glass heirloom. It was a blockage that didn’t need to be there, finally gone. At last, she could see straight ahead, with clarity. She saw what she wanted her future to hold. It was the one she was holding.

  Ever so slightly, she tilted her chin back. She knew the guard would never overstep his station. If she wanted him, it was up to her to make the first move. “Bram?”

  He gazed down at her, candlelight flickering over the angles of his masculine face. Johanna stood on her toes and reached up, carefully bringing her arms around his neck. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  He bent his head, allowing her nearer. She shuddered as he swept his massive hand across her back, brushing her hair from her shoulder blades. Johanna’s eyes fell shut as she raised her mouth to his. Firm and certain, his lips rolled steadily with hers. It felt like falling—or flying—as she tightened her grip around his neck and held him closer, her heart ringing like a bell.

  Their lips parted and closed together again, making her chest burn with need, exchanging the best kiss she’d ever—

  “Finally,” someone exhaled behind them.

  Johanna was abashed by the suctioning sound as she and Bram pulled apart much too abruptly, and swiveled around to identify their eavesdropper.

  To her horror, it was Felix, still in the corridor. “He’s been sweet on you since your seventeenth birthday. Took you both long enough.”

  Johanna shooed him. The heir departed, looking smug.

  Bram’s face had shaded to an adorable scarlet. “I don’t know how he…I never told anyone….”

  “Apparently, there are a number of things you haven’t been telling us.” Johanna grinned, entwining her arms around him again.

  He stooped down, tantalizing her mouth with the hint of more kisses. Johanna giggled, her eyelids flickering shut in bliss.

  “I suppose I can tell you now that I love you, Johanna Cosmith,” he said.

  “Kinje! Vesa voh-yee!” Dota dropped to her knees in the snow-speckled grass, beckoning Lilani and Catja. Catja knelt between the children, bringing her eyes level with the tiny blue buds sprouting through.

  “When the vernal moon grows, flowers peek through the snows,” she recited the Ocanese rhyme. The girls chanted it back. Catja rose, ruffling their feathery hair.

  The premature flowers were the first sign of winter breaking. That year’s had been a long one. She wondered what it would mean, how they would fare in the seasons ahead. Winter often set the tone for the summer that followed, and so on. Everything affected everything else.

  It was a good thing she had arrived when she had, in the final weeks of autumn, or else even the Ekianic might have proved as threatening as the North Sea. The Jordinian Empire had sent her home five moons prior, on a cargo ship equipped with horses and wagons full of replenished supplies, provisions, and medicine for her and the Oca.

  It had been the relief of a lifetime to return. She fancied it was how a fish must feel to be caught, then mercifully pitched back into the water. Her home, friends and the closest thing she had to family—and not just the people, but the birds and the soil and the trees—welcomed her back with open arms, and plenty of furs they knew she didn’t need.

  And yet, not everything had gone back to normal.

&
nbsp; It seemed her life couldn’t go back to the way it was before the Jordinians had come. For one, Ludwig Cosmith was among them now, with his very rotund wife, Kya. Catja saw the happy expectant couple in the village every day. And while his kind and gentle demeanor was a pleasant addition to the Oca, it crushed her every time his face twisted into an expression that resembled his brother, or whenever he laughed in a manner she almost mistook for Drew. Ludwig served as a constant reminder of the man whose heart she’d held and loved…and broke.

  How could she have left him behind? Every day, she second-guessed her decision. Drew had sacrificed everything for her and the people she cared about. If she’d been able to grow accustomed to the Oca’s way of life, could she not have tried a little harder, and grown accustomed to the Jordinian courts instead?

  But Catja had to be true to herself. And Drew, truly loving her, had honored that. She wasn’t sure when she would ever see him again. If she would. But there was always hope.

  It was another busy morning fetching water from the Hamaree and sterilizing it, and administering pills to immunize the children from the kosit beetle’s bite. The treatment only helped the youngest of the tribe, and she’d run out of her original store years ago.

  Shelha and Tani were nearby, beating rugs in the spirit of spring cleaning, when Dag announced he saw a rider on the horizon. The women looked up from their work, as did Catja.

  The villagers flocked down to the valley to watch, and Catja went out to join them. The warriors fetched their bows, just in case, but the approaching shape on horseback didn’t look threatening. At least, there was only one rider. Not an army.

  She wondered who it could be. Now that she was acting as a go-between, attempting her best efforts to convey the benefits of Jordinia’s legal protection to the Oca chief and the chiefs of the surrounding clans, she supposed it could be a representative from another tribe.

  But his trousers and hat were too…mainland.

  “Special delivery,” called a jovial voice in Halvean, descending the knoll at full tilt.

  Ludwig moved to the front of the crowd. His long, plaited hair bounced down his neck as he darted ahead of Catja, already sure of something she was too cautious to dare to dream.

  “Andrew!” His brother laughed wildly, not a trace of a stammer. “It can’t be you!”

  Catja’s breaths were shallow. The gathered villagers became a blur as she sifted past them, joining Ludwig to greet their visitor.

  Sunlight filtered behind his robust shape as he hopped down from the horse, slightly bowlegged. He wore a satchel on his back and an old, beat-up cowman’s hat on his head. “So, I received something interesting from the postmaster at the Garden Palace,” he said conversationally, as if they’d just been speaking over tea, and not separated by an ocean for half a year.

  With enough swagger to make her swoon, Andrew Cosmith strode forward. “It was from the University of Teleiry, where a certain Professor Clarence Lovell received his doctorate some decades ago.”

  Catja believed her ears even less than her eyes as the brothers exchanged embraces. Ludwig stepped back, still barking with delighted laughter.

  Drew spoke to Catja. “You see, I may or may not have written them a very long letter about Professor Lovell’s remarkable daughter and her work abroad, and how she’s accomplished more in her dozen-year career than most researchers do in their lifetime. And so, they’ve sent her, care of yours truly, this honorary doctorate’s degree in anthropological studies. Congratulations, Professor,” he smirked, holding out a scroll, “you now really are a professor.”

  Catja received it, floored.

  “Well, obviously,” he pulled off his leather gloves and stuffed them into his jerkin pocket, “I couldn’t mail it to you. Who on earth would know where to deliver it? So, I had no choice but to bring it to you myself.

  “However, it was the dead of winter by then, and no one was sailing anywhere. Otherwise, I’d have been here moons ago. Trust me, as soon as I could, I caught the first ship of the season headed this way.”

  Dumbfounded, Catja turned to Ludwig. “Would you mind…taking this for me?” She moistened her lips, handing him the scroll. “And setting it on the desk in my tent?”

  “Of course.” With one last broad grin at his brother, Ludwig set off, scroll in hand. “Kya,” he summoned his wife. As best as she could, she hobbled after him.

  Catja and Drew would have been alone, but for the entire village standing around behind them. Drew gave them an enthusiastic wave. The chief’s sons, Dag and Zuri, grimaced, but lifted their hands in a grudging greeting. At their approval, the rest of the tribe eased up, leaving them be and continuing about their own business.

  Catja laughed. “It looks like they’ve decided to tolerate you.”

  “That’s a start.” Drew removed his hat and hung it on the horse’s saddle. His cheeks were ruddy with cold, his impossible hair a matted mess. She had never wanted to hold him more.

  She wouldn’t waste time. Catja launched upon him, seizing him in her arms. Everything felt so beautifully right as she hung onto each sensation—his leather jerkin against her blouse, the warm crook of his neck where she nestled her face, the perfect scent of his skin that recalled their unforgettable nights during her stay with him abroad. She didn’t think she could ever let him go again, no matter the cost.

  “So, what did I miss?” he asked, finally breaking their embrace.

  “Well.” Catja waved the fog from her spectacles. “The cogo population in the lake is the largest yet. I think because more of their eggs than usual somehow survived the winter. Dag is in talks with Tani’s father to marry her. And…you’re about to become an uncle again.”

  He nodded approvingly in the direction where Ludwig and Kya had gone. “I saw.”

  “I can’t believe you came all this way.” Catja studied his face, each familiar feature imprinting upon her as if it was the first time they’d met, although she never would have forgotten a single detail about him. “Not a day goes by that I haven’t thought of you,” she confessed. “Nor a night where you aren’t the focus of my dreams.”

  His deep eyes regarded her. “It’s mutual.”

  Their gazes didn’t break as she reached up to smooth back his hair. Her fingers dug through the waves, so coarse and full, getting lost in them. “How long will you be here?” She needed to know, to prepare for another goodbye. Her sorrow at the looming prospect was tainting even the sweetest hour of their reunion.

  She was taken aback when he only pulled her in. “I am not leaving you, Catja.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m here to stay.”

  Her heart smacked against her ribs. “Indefinitely?”

  “Forever,” he held her tighter, “as long as you’re here.”

  “But—” She was out of breath as he trailed tiny kisses across her brow. “Think of all you’re giving up. Your family is in Jordinia. Your title. Palaces. Everything you could ever need, or want….”

  “Everything I need,” he said firmly, “everything I want,” he grazed his crooked nose against hers, “is right here, in my arms.”

  Her love overflowed as he kissed her relentlessly. Every night spent apart was acknowledged in his kiss, along with the promise of more compensation to come.

  They took their time before letting go. Catja could hardly trust her legs to hold her up. “Andrew Cosmith,” she exhaled, her heart warm and bright as a moonbeam, “never in a million years would I have thought I’d end up with the likes of you.”

  “What’s this talk of endings, love?” He grinned, taking her hand. “We’ve only just begun.”

  THE END

  It takes a village to raise an author—and her books! The third Jordinia installment would never have been possible without the tremendous efforts and TLC of my publisher, 48fourteen, and the encouragement of authors like Michele De
Luca and R.A. Sherwood. To the readers and reviewers who’ve supported this series, blogged about it, and become part of Jordinia: you make the world go round! Thank you for taking a chance on my work and sticking with it. Lastly, special thanks to Josh and Chuck, hosts of Stuff You Should Know Podcast, for inspiring this storyline with their Lewis & Clark episode.

  C.K. Brooke lives in Washington, Michigan. She is the author of over a dozen fantasy and romantic adventure novels and novellas, including the Jordinia series with 48fourteen and the American Pirate Romances with Limitless Publishing. Her debut novel, The Duchess Quest, was selected as a Shelf Unbound Notable Indie Book of 2015 and was awarded five stars by Readers’ Favorite Book Reviews & Awards Contest. When she isn’t blissing out with books, you can find her immersed in her music, chasing her five-year-old around, and geeking out over Star Wars and Marvel movies with her husband.

  For more about C.K. Brooke,

  visit her at:

  http://CKBrooke.com

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