Forbidden

by Rachel Van Dyken

  "Aunt?" He walked closer, irritated at the ridiculous knot of emotion in his throat.

  "Benedict? Is that you?" Her voice was raspy and weak.

  "Yes." He sat on the bed and grasped her frail hand. "Are you feeling under the weather?"

  "Oh, it will blow over, it always does." Agatha waved him off with her other hand. "So, what brings you here? I can only imagine the amount of pride you swallowed to seek me out. Surprised you made it up the stairs without cursing me to perdition."

  Benedict chuckled, his hand slowly caressing hers. "It seems I've some more pride to swallow, if you'll allow me."

  "Always." Her eyes twinkled, but her face was still far too pale for his liking.

  "Well, I don't really know how to start."

  "Remember, I do love your stories. Let us start at the beginning, shall we?" With a sigh, she tried to squeeze his hand though it was a vain effort for the thing had little strength in her.

  "Katherine, she won't, that is to say she won't…"

  "Marry you?" Agatha interrupted.

  "No, she'll still marry me."

  "Then she's disagreeable?"

  "No, she's amiable, perfect really." The most beautiful woman I've ever seen, he wanted to add.

  "Did she offend you in some way then?" Agatha coughed and reached for the water. He helped her take a sip and shook his head.

  "No, I'm afraid it is I who has done the offending. Though I wasn't aware that my past actions would overshadow my future happiness, it seems I've done just that. I've ruined it."

  Agatha tilted her head. "But you say she's still going to marry you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then what is the problem?" Agatha's eyebrows pinched together.

  "She won't forgive me."

  "But she'll marry you?" Agatha repeated. She truly must be sick for she never wasted time repeating anything, if he wasn't fortunate enough to hear her the first time, well the loss was his, and he would undoubtedly suffer for it.

  "Yes," he said slowly.

  A smile broke out across her weathered face. "So you wish for something more than marriage. Is this what I'm understanding?"

  "Well, I…" Benedict paused, thinking quite seriously on his aunt's simple words. "I want more, but I also want to give her more. I want…" He looked away, a lump forming in his throat. Devil take it, he could not cry over a girl.

  "Everything." Agatha patted his hand. "My dear boy, you want everything, all she has to offer, all she has to give, including the very next breath she breathes. Everything is your answer, now for the question. What are you willing to do to obtain it?"

  Benedict swallowed, the emotion of the moment was too much for him. To see Agatha — irritating, disagreeable, formidible Agatha — sick, to know he was making Katherine ill with heartache, not to mention the issue with his own heart. The very heart that seemed to have trouble beating without Katherine near.

  "Anything. I would do anything."

  "So you'd abandon all those mistresses."

  "Already done."

  "You'd turn away from your devil-may-care attitude and vices?"

  Was that even a question? "Of course!"

  "And you'd give yourself fully to the one person in the world who has enough of your heart to break it. Would you do that, Benedict?"

  His heart hammered in his chest. He looked from Agatha to his hands, the very same hands that all day had felt naked as if missing the other half that fit within them. "I have," he mumbled, his voice sounding foreign because of the hoarse emotion coming from his lips.

  "Then what are you waiting for?"

  His head snapped up. "I don't know."

  With that, he jumped up from his seat and walked to the door, then on second thought, he walked back to Agatha and kissed her on the brow. "You always were my favorite aunt."

  "I'm your only aunt, you rogue." She tried to laugh but instead coughed.

  "And I'm so glad you are." He kissed her again and fought the emotional turmoil taking place in his heart when a single tear ran down her face.

  "As am I, as am I."

  He left her then, and walked down the stairs to the study where he knew he would find Baldwyn.

  But the room was empty. He heard footsteps and turned.

  Baldwyn had cleaned up and was ready to leave.

  "Where are you going?" Benedict asked, though he had an idea.

  "I have to tell her." Baldwyn was perspiring as he had been running around the house at full speed.

  "Then tell her." Benedict encouraged and laughed. "Apparently Agatha does have the final say, eh?"

  Baldwyn rolled his eyes. "Do not get me started. That woman's intuition frightens me."

  Both men fell silent. Then turned to look at the stairs.

  "Do you think?" Baldwyn didn't finish his question.

  "She said it will pass." Benedict cleared his throat. "After all, she's a tough old thing. It isn't as if she is doing to die."

  Baldwyn nodded his head. "You're right. Paranoia is a side effect of too much drinking I hear."

  At that, Benedict laughed and walked out of the house, in search of one woman that could bring him to his knees.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  How Much Do I Love Thee?

  Katherine hated to admit that every time there was a noise, she ran to the windows and plastered her face against the glass hoping in vain that it would be Benedict's curricle outside, meaning he had come to call again.

  After rejecting him again this morning when all the lovely books arrived, she hadn't the heart to do it again.

  Granted, she was hurt, upset, and at the most ridiculous moments felt that she would burst into tears.

  Could she trust him with her heart? He had said as much. He had promised they would marry and be happy.

  But he hadn't promised fidelity. Nor had he fully explained his situations with the many mistresses.

  Then again, it was natural that he would have done some horrendous things a gentle bred lady wouldn't hear about. After all, he hadn't just obtained his nickname from all his many scandals and running around his house in the nude.

  The question that burned at the back of her mind was… what if? What if he was to change? What if he wanted to change? What if he was trying?

  Yet, it seemed so foolish. Surely every girl thought such things when wanting to reform a rake of the first order. Every girl wanted to be the girl who was so special she would change the devil into an angel. And she wasn't so certain she was pretty enough or exciting enough to hold his attention.

  The knocker on the door announced another visitor. With great self-control she managed to sit and pretend to read one of the many novels Benedict had given her, when the door to the sitting room opened, and Benedict was announced.

  She slowly put the book down. Benedict's face lit up, a smile broke out across his features, and in two strides she was in his arms, being pressed against the wall with such force she was sure her form would be permanently glued to the wallpaper. His kiss was hungry yet affectionate, as he parted her lips with his tongue and caressed her face with his hands.

  Her butler cleared his throat, causing Benedict to stop, and place her once again to rights. With a few choice words, he walked to the door, shooed her butler out and turned the lock.

  "I have to say something."

  Katherine fumbled with her hair, averting her eyes. If she didn't look directly at him, perhaps she could be stronger and not cry.

  "I'm not sorry."

  Well, that was a lousy start.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued.

  "To be sorry seems too easy. You make a hash of things and say you're sorry, but the value of that person's apology is measured against their past indiscretions. So then you ask yourself, is that person sorry for their actions or merely sorry they had to deal with the consequences of getting caught?" Benedict laughed. "I think my entire life I've been blind. I've always felt fulfilled, never truly guilty over my actions. I boasted in my
debauchery and rejoiced in the power it gave me. Until recently, I would have been merely sorry I was caught."

  "And now?" Katherine asked timidly.

  "Now?" He laughed bitterly. "Now I'm so blasted ashamed of myself, I want to ask the first man I see to shoot me."

  "Or woman?" she volunteered.

  "Yes." He laughed outright. "Or woman. The thing of it is I have lived selfishly from amusement to amusement, never truly realizing how hollow my existence was. Until I met you, that is. Before you, I was perfectly happy."

  Katherine stiffened. Splendid, so now she was the reason for his discontent?

  "Don't take offense. I compare my prior existence to a man living in a thundercloud, until one day the clouds disappear and the most beautiful sun begins to shine light on everything. What was once acceptable in the dark, even glorified, is no longer beautiful, but ugly and distasteful. The things that seemed to be important were merely shadows, faded into my old life. I would do anything to stay in your sunlight. I would give my very soul to be your center of gravity." Benedict approached her, his trembling hand reaching out to touch her face. She closed her eyes. "So I wish to tell you, I know the true meaning of being sorry. I will not be that man, because you see, I no longer am him. I am someone new because the sun now shines. Tell me, Katherine. Tell me the sun will stay. Tell me the sun will bring light."

  "I lov—"

  "Open this door immediately!" a man's voice shouted.

  Benedict cursed and walked slowly to the door and unlocked it.

  Paisley burst in.

  "It's Agatha, we have to go, now!" Paisley grabbed Benedict and ushered him out before Katherine could finish what she was saying. Without as much of a word to anyone, she grabbed her pelisse and reticule and followed them out of the house.

  She had no idea by the time they arrived they would be too late.

  Nor had she quite understood the depth of anguish a man would face when his last remaining relative save his cousin, was taken from the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

  The funeral was depressing, as most funerals were. And Katherine was by Benedict's side the entire time holding his hand, trying to give him strength.

  The worst part, he thought as he squeezed her hand, was that Agatha and he had only just begun communicating.

  He looked up at the dreary London sky. Was that the life he wanted for himself? To push away everyone and everything? His last remaining family member, save his cousin, was dead.

  Alone. He was alone in the world, and he had nothing to show for it really. He had no true friends to turn to. Except Katherine.

  He had to tell her. She had to know before they married how he felt, what he would give away for her, what he would do for her if just given the chance. If she could not accept his love and forgive him, he might just follow Agatha into the grave, not that she would much appreciate her devilish nephew ruining her chances of happiness in the afterlife.

  He laughed at the thought.

  "Are you well?" she asked as they paused in front of his carriage.

  "I will be, very soon." He kissed her hands. She didn't pull away but the vulnerability was visible in her gaze. "Tonight." He kissed her forehead. "At the Kringle Ball, let us dance until midnight, and when all is over with, let us marry."

  "At midnight?" Katherine laughed. "For what reason?"

  "Well, I do have papers making it completely legal, as well as the old vicar from our family estate staying at one of my townhomes for the holidays."

  "And my parents?" Katherine asked biting her lip.

  "I hope they'll attend."

  She nodded slowly, and then more enthusiastically. Her father joined her side. Benedict said his goodbyes and with a final glance toward his aunt's house, jumped into his carriage.

  Katherine readied for the ball. A pink silk ball gown of beautiful satin hung snug around her middle. The skirts fell around her legs making it impossible to see the line of the dress. It was scandalous to say the least, only because she knew Benedict would spend most of his night trying to find the outline of her legs within the folds of the fabric.

  The man did have an odd obsession with her knees and ankles.

  Her carriage arrived at his townhome early, but he had asked permission from her parents to escort her, especially considering they were to be married at midnight.

  She was so excited, she had to clench her hands to keep from waving them wildly in the air. His speech had been so beautiful, so wonderful.

  Yet part of her, a tiny part, still had doubt, for how could a man who had lived his entire life one way, hope to change in just a few weeks? And all because of her? She was nothing special, she knew that. Even Benedict had pointed it out early on in their relationship, but perhaps she should just allow herself to fall. For the only person she could imagine that she wanted to catch her was the Duke of Banbury.

  She knocked. A very stunned butler opened the door and then closed it in her face. Truly, Benedict needed to hire a new staff immediately.

  She knocked again. He opened it a crack. "I'm here to see my fiancé. He's to be escorting me to the Kringle Ball."

  "Er…" The butler looked behind him, and suddenly Katherine heard shouting.

  She pushed past the butler with all the strength she could muster and ran directly into her worst nightmare. Maria, the old housekeeper wearing a gown fit for a courtesan with her chest nearly exposed. She was crying and shouting still. And then she turned to Katherine, venom in her eyes.

  Benedict also turned. "This isn't what you think, she—"

  "He loves to play games, my lady. This is just one of the many ones we've dreamt up together. It makes our time together so much better when there is the fear of getting caught. We fight," she laughed. "And then we make love, right after his innocent little girl walks through the door. I couldn't write a better story myself." She tripped on the hem of her gown and laughed again.

  "Katherine…" Benedict pinched his nose. "She's drunk and angry, and somehow snuck through the servants' entrance. This is no game. She is ill, sick actually, and if she steps foot in my house one more time…" Benedict reached for Maria and grabbed her arm, clenching it tightly within his hand. "…I will have her arrested. Now leave before I call Bow Street."

  She jerked her arm away, tears streaming down her face. "Why would you throw away something so good?"

  "We are finished!" he yelled. "You mean nothing to me. What we did, meant nothing."

  "It was everything."

  He leveled her with a cold stare,"Perhaps for you. For me it was nothing but a heartless toss with an easy woman who desired money in exchange for services, and I'm—" He squared his shoulders. "I'm… sorry, but I'm no longer that man anymore, hell I don't know if I ever was."

  Benedict sighed loudly, "Truthfully, I'm sorry I have caused you distress, but this," he glanced over at Katherine, "She, is my life."

  Maria threw her head back and laughed, her dark hair spilling in waves across her scandalous dress. She walked past Katherine and glared. "You'll never be able to give him what I did. He'll grow tired of you and come back. Just wait and see."

  With that she left.

  Katherine tried to breathe, but the air wouldn't fill her lungs fast enough. Short gasps came out until finally she fell to her knees on the ground, still gasping for air.

  "Katherine!" Benedict ran to her side, scooped her into his arms, and pushed open the doors to the first room on the right, one of the salons. "Katherine?"

  Benedict had never felt so angry and afraid in his entire life. Angry at Maria, angry at himself, angry at his past, and afraid that Katherine was now lost forever. How could she trust him? How could she know that the other women meant nothing? That Maria had literally attacked him in his own home? Beating his chest until Marsail had to pull her from his body?

  "Katherine?" He touched her face, then her chest. "Breathe, just breathe, in and out, slowly now. There you go, slowly
."

  Finally, after a few minutes, her breathing slowed.

  And then the tears came.

  Shame twined through him like an insidious vine. He wanted to die.

  In fact, his gaze kept returning to the pistol hanging over the fireplace.

  "Please, please don't cry." He wiped her tears, but he was too slow in catching all of them. Benedict rocked her in his arms. She was trembling.

  "Nothing happened. She is mad, Katherine. Do you understand? I would never do that to you, ever. You must believe me."

  She didn't say a word, merely cried a little more, then pulled herself from his lap and set her skirts to rights. "I'm ready for the ball now."

  "You can't be serious?"

  "I am. My parents will expect me."

  He moved to grab her arm, but she pulled back. Trust was a thing of the past, if it had ever been there in the first place. And in return, he noticed the sparkle die in her eyes, and he knew he was the cause as well as the cure. She just needed time.

  He patted his coat pocket to be sure he had remembered to take the note Agatha had left him. It was there.

  But she was not. His heart stuttered in his chest as his throat tightened with sadness.

  He needed her now, needed her wisdom and guidance on how to proceed. But all he could think that she might say would be to fight. So fight he would. Wordlessly, they left the house. And wordless they both remained for the entire journey to the Kringle Ball.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Note

  Katherine had already decided to forgive Benedict. Though he did have some explaining to do, she realized one very important thing.

  She didn't want to live her life in fear.

  She loved him so much that she wasn't sure she could face life without him. Katherine just wanted his love in return, as well as his loyalty. The only reason she doubted him was because of what she had seen with her eyes, not what she felt with her heart.