Forbidden

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He coughed a couple of times before smiling. "Yes, yes I did. I should be glad of a walk." Edward nodded ever so slightly in approval and pointedly ignored his mother's audible sigh from his left.

  He waited in the parlour, listening to the chatter of old friends while Caroline fetched her bonnet. Within a couple of moments they were ready to go.

  As soon as they left, the earl puffed out a relieved breath.

  "Well, that went very well," he commented happily.

  "Yes," agreed Lady Ranford, "and how beautiful they look together."

  The dowager smiled her agreement, but she knew that her ear was in for a bashing when her fiercely independent son returned.

  Outside, the sun beat pleasantly down on the trio as they made their way down the sweeping lawn toward the pond.

  They were silent for a moment or two, each wondering what they should say. Somewhat to Edward's surprise, it was Lady Caroline who broke the silence first.

  "We are so very pleased your mother and you could come to visit with us, your grace. My mother has been quite beside herself with excitement." She smiled favouring him with a charming, if formal smile.

  "I am happy to do so, Lady Caroline," he replied pleasantly. "I know my mother was very much looking forward to it also."

  More silence ensued. Edward usually had quite a repertoire of conversation he could pull out when chit chatting with members of Society. At the moment though, he did not feel like it.

  The silence was suddenly broken by a ferocious shout coming from a clump of trees to their left as they made their way toward the pond.

  "Damnation Martin!" shouted the very loud, very female voice. "I told you not to let it go."

  Edward and Tom both stopped walking and stared in amazement. For as much as the voice was loud and swearing like a sailor, it was also very much the cultured voice of a lady.

  Another scream rent the air followed by the shout of a young boy and suddenly a kite, being carried by the stiff summer breeze floated out from the trees and right over the lake, getting tangled in the up-stretched arm of one of the statues flanking the pond.

  So intent was Edward on the progress of the kite, and on seeing who on earth was making such a racket, that he paid little attention to whatever Lady Caroline was currently mumbling. However, he distinctly heard the words 'warned', 'begged' and, rather ominously, 'murder'.

  Moments after the kite got itself good and tangled, the trees rustled alarmingly and a young lady burst through onto the path at a dead run.

  Though she was moving far too quickly for anything identifiable to be established, she was trailed by a shock of chestnut hair flying out behind her. She came to a screeching halt at the foot of the statue and, shielding her eyes from the sun, peered up at it.

  The trio was not close enough to see her expression but they were definitely close enough to hear another unladylike word spew from her mouth before she hitched her skirts and began to climb the statue!

  Edward and Tom shared a look of pure shock. Lady Caroline had, at this point, buried her face in her hands.

  None of them moved to help the young lady. And she did not even glance their way. She leaned precariously and stretched her hand upwards to try and untangle the string of the kite, the tail of which was still trailing along the ground.

  Edward, in the midst of the commotion, could not help but notice that she had the body of a goddess. Shorter than the woman beside him, her heavenly curves were very well outlined by the material straining against her body as she reached. Suddenly he found his mouth had gone unaccountably dry.

  Her hair was magnificent and he found himself struck with an intense desire to see her face. If it matched the rest of her, he could honestly believe he was in the presence of a goddess or perhaps one of the faery folk these lands were so famous for.

  Another shout snapped Edward's attention back to the copse of trees as yet another figure bounded toward the pond. This time, it was that of a young boy, maybe ten years old and, by the brief glimpse of his clothing, the son of a staff member.

  He skidded to a halt as he looked up towards the beautiful lady stretching with all her might, now leaning even further and seeming a lot more unsteady.

  Edward felt a sudden slam of fear in his heart and started towards her, albeit at a slow pace. He did not want to scare her into losing her footing by racing towards her.

  He chose not to examine the reason for this acute fear for a total stranger's safety. He was just being a good human being. That was all.

  "My lady," the lad shouted in triumph, "here's the tail. We can pull it free."

  It all happened so quickly that there was nothing Edward could do.

  At the young boy's shout the young woman turned towards him. She had obviously managed to untie the string and was clutching it in her small hand.

  As she yelled 'no,' the young boy picked up the string and gave it a sharp tug.

  For a few heart-stopping seconds she balanced on top of the statue, her arms flailing about. The little boy, realising what he had done, promptly let go of the string, the only thing helping her even slightly to maintain her stance.

  With another scream she lost balance and hit the water of the pond with a huge splash.

  The splash seemed to galvanise the little group of spectators and they ran towards the pond, Edward leading the way.

  Now, Edward had had his fair share of experience with women. Especially gently bred women. And, although he could not imagine a single one of them ever being in the position this young lady found herself in—running through woods, chasing kites, climbing statues, he knew how the female psyche worked.

  He was fully prepared for the crying, possibly wailing that was about to assail his ears. He suspected there may be a touch of hysterics and could almost guarantee there would be swooning.

  This is what he expected. What he did not expect was to find the fair maiden sitting in the middle of the pond, covered in debris, soaked from head to toe… and laughing. Genuinely chuckling until the tears rolled down her flawless cheeks.

  The little boy, Martin presumably, had joined in and the pair of them laughed and laughed and gave no indication that they realised they had company.

  "Rebecca," Lady Caroline's sharp voice rang out bringing an abrupt end to the merriment. There was a world of disapproval, admonishment and anger in that tone. Rather impressive to have packed so much into one name, Edward thought distractedly.

  The lady, Rebecca, turned incredibly big and sinfully dark eyes toward Lady Caroline. Edward found he had to gulp around his dry throat again.

  "Caroline, how nice to see you," her voice was warm and soft, terribly mischievous and made Edward think very inappropriate thoughts.

  "What in God's name are you doing?" Caroline hissed. "Get out of there at once. Can you not see that we have company?"

  At Lady Caroline's word, the lady turned the full force of her incredible eyes on Edward and Tom. Edward bit back a gasp as the impact hit him in an area that had no business feeling anything in broad daylight. He heard Tom's audible gasp and imagined he suffered the same affliction. For some reason, this irritated Edward.

  "So we do." The young lady was speaking again. And rather than sound upset, or scramble to her feet in mortification, she grinned unapologetically at the two gentlemen. "The Duke of Hartridge, I presume, and his cousin Mr. Crawdon?" She spoke politely, for all the world like they were being introduced in a drawing room or ballroom in London.

  Tom, finally unable to contain his mirth, burst into laughter, which he desperately tried to cover up as a cough.

  Lady Rebecca grinned even wider at Tom's obvious amusement at the situation. Who was this woman? Edward had never seen anything like it!

  Lady Caroline stepped closer to the edge of the pond, her back ramrod straight. "Get. Up," she hissed menacingly through clenched teeth.

  Lady Rebecca gave a defeated sigh and stood. As she did so, the water gushed off her person. Edward found he had to bite back a
groan of pure, unadulterated lust. Her gown had originally been white, he would hazard, but had now been turned a slight shade of mud from the contents of the pond. The fact that it was wet meant it clung to her form like a second skin.

  As she stood there, dripping wet and futilely wringing out her long tresses, Edward found he could only stare like an immature adolescent. Never had he seen a body like hers. Never had he seen the curves of a lady so well, who wasn't also standing naked in front of him and preparing to make love.

  The thought set his heart hammering and his body stirring. It was terribly embarrassing but he could not bring himself to care. There was a lump the size of a rock wedged in his throat, and he could no more have looked away than he could have plucked the sun from the sky.

  "Must you be such a bore Caroline?" Lady Rebecca asked, not a bit concerned with the other lady's disapproval that was practically rolling off her rigid frame.

  "I told you we were to have guests today," muttered Caroline in a frantic whisper. The gentlemen could still hear her very well but neither one was much inclined to pay attention at that particular time.

  Lady Rebecca finally seemed to be taking in the gravity of the situation. Her eyes travelled from Lady Caroline's furious face to those of the two gentlemen who both looked like they wanted to eat her alive.

  She drew herself up to her full height and inhaled a deep breath before speaking again. "I apologise, Caro, really. I had quite forgotten the time." Her apology was met with stony silence.

  "Gentlemen," she continued turning slightly towards them, "pray forgive my – er – less than proper appearance. I assure you, I do not usually greet guests of my father in such a fashion."

  Her words snapped Edward out of his frankly inappropriate daydream.

  "You are Ranford's daughter?" he asked, and was irritated to hear how husky his voice was.

  "His youngest," the goddess confirmed. "Lady Rebecca Carrington." She dipped into a curtsey worthy of any daughter of a Peer, but since she was still standing in the middle of the pond, it rather seemed a little late for propriety.

  "A pleasure," he answered a little dazedly.

  "Ahem."

  "Excuse me. My cousin, Mr. Crawdon." Edward gestured behind him.

  Tom stepped forward and gave a deep bow. "An honour to meet you Lady Rebecca," he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

  Her responding smile felt like a punch to Edward's abdomen and he suddenly wanted to pull her out of the pond and shield her from Tom's appreciative eyes.

  "Rebecca," snapped Caroline, a blush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks, "please return to the house and clean yourself up."

  Lady Rebecca rolled her eyes slightly but Edward caught it and could not bite back a slight grin. The chit was incorrigible.

  "Gentlemen, if you will excuse me," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. Which wasn't a lot, given the circumstances.

  She trudged to the edge of the pond, her progress slow due to the weight of the water on her dress. Edward did not think he'd ever seen such a beautiful dress!

  As she reached the edge and made to climb over, he rushed to her assistance, almost knocking both Tom and Lady Caroline to the ground and out of his way.

  "Allow me," he said, extending his hand to assist her.

  Rebecca looked into his eyes and time seemed to come to a sudden halt. He heard the breath hitch in her throat and it was all he could do to prevent himself from pulling her flush against him. Good God! What was the matter with him?

  The air between them felt like it had been struck by lightning. She placed her small hand in his and it felt perfect. He could not resist rubbing his thumb along the delicate palm. He watched as her lips parted and almost groaned aloud once again.

  Get a handle on yourself man!

  He shook his head slightly to try to clear the sensual haze surrounding them and stepped back so she could climb over.

  Her bonnet, he noticed was still tied at the front, though it trailed down her back. For some reason he found it incredibly endearing. She must have noticed his glance for she reached back, which did nothing for his current state, and pulled it forward again.

  "Well," she said jovially, presumably trying to salvage some propriety from the situation, "I shall be on my way. Good afternoon Caro, gentlemen." She curtsied once again and lifted her bonnet to replace it on her head.

  And, of course, upon tipping it over to replace it, proceeded to dump its contents all over herself.

  She gasped in shock as the icy cold water dripped down her head, and spluttered most becomingly as it hit her face.

  Lady Caroline groaned and dropped her face into her hands once more. Tom, once again lost control of himself and gave a shout of laughter.

  Edward found himself biting his tongue enough to taste blood to stop himself from laughing too.

  Lady Rebecca swiped the excess water from her eyes and shot them a rueful grin. Then, turning on her heel, she trudged her way back up the garden and towards the house.

  They heard the squelch of the water in her boots until she had disappeared over the slight hill.

  The silence she left behind with her departure was deafening.

  "Your grace," Lady Caroline stuttered the words in the general direction of his chest, too mortified to look him in the eye, "perhaps you would like to return to the house."

  It seemed they were not going to discuss the surreal incident they had just witnessed. If he was honest though, he could not think of a damned thing to say anyway.

  So, throwing a quick look of complete amazement towards Tom, who was looking thoroughly entertained, he offered his arm to Lady Caroline. "I would indeed, my lady," he answered, all politeness.

  Edward had no idea what he had let himself in for by coming here. But suddenly, he could not wait to find out.

  ALSO BY KRISTIN VAYDEN

  What the Duke Wants

  CHAPTER ONE

  Charles Evermore, Duke of Clairmont, glared at his solicitor, narrowing his eyes until he could no longer see the small framed man before him. There had to be a mistake. There was no other explanation for the words coming from the man's mouth.

  "Your grace, if you'll simply read the documentation for yourself…" Mr. Burrows spoke with practiced patience.

  Charles stood and stalked around the desk, ripping the papers from his grasp. Mr. Burrows leaned back, folding his hands and watching Charles with unaffected impassivity. Not for the first time, Charles thought the man looked like a praying mantis, all long and lean with exceedingly large eyes and a patient demeanor that was all to deceptive.

  But he was the best solicitor available.

  He had better be for what Charles paid for his services.

  "If you'll start on the second page…" Mr. Burrows suggested.

  Charles read the endless prattle of legal terms until his eyes focused on the chilling phrase.

  Wards.

  Three girls, to be exact. Ranging from ages seven to sixteen.

  And, as heaven stood by laughing, he was to be their guardian.

  Charles stared at the words, willing them to disappear. He hadn't the time, the energy, or the inclination to take over the raising of three insufferable miniature females! He could hardly tolerate his mistresses, and they were full grown and low maintenance! He studied the rest of the document, searching for any other names that might take this plight away from him.

  "You're likely curious as to why you were chosen," Mr. Burrows suggested.

  "The question had crossed my mind." Charles remarked sarcastically.

  Mr. Burrows wisely ignored the duke's surly attitude. "It was a tragedy, to be sure. The poor girls lost both parents in a carriage accident—"

  "And there were no aunts or uncle to take them in?" Charles interrupted.

  Mr. Burrows simply blinked, raising his eyebrows slightly and waiting.

  "Carry on." Charles waved his hand, somewhat chagrined at his idiotic question. After all, if there were a spinster aunt
or bachelor uncle, hell, any relative at all, they wouldn't be given to him as wards.

  "As I was saying…" Mr. Burrows shot Charles a pointed gaze. "The girls were left quite without any family. Only providence connected them with you, your grace. You see, they are actually your mother's second cousins, God rest her soul."

  "So I'm the urchins' cousin? Bloody perfect." Charles mumbled under his breath.

  "So it would seem." Mr. Burrows stood, collecting the papers from Charles's outstretched hand. "You'll not need to worry about a dowry or any such things for the young ladies. Their parents left them quite a bit of wealth. However, I would suggest you begin a search for a proper governess."

  "Bloody hell, another female in my house. Exactly what I need."

  "Yes, well, that female might be your salvation in helping you train the children into young ladies. After all, they'll need to someday make a match."

  "That's the only way I'm ever going to be rid of them, isn't it?" Charles combed back his jet-black hair with his hand, feeling a miserable headache beginning at the base of his neck.

  "Perhaps." Mr. Burrows nodded and turned away, but not before Charles saw the slightest hint of a grin. "The young ladies will arrive in a few days, I expect. If you need anything more, you know where to reach me. Good night, your grace." Mr. Burrows paused at the door.

  "Good night, Mr. Burrows."

  Charles strode over to the fire, studying the orange and red flames. Truly, this was the worst sort of news. At three and thirty, he wasn't necessarily old, but he was quite accustomed and comfortable with his way of life. Oh, he knew eventually he'd have to suffer through a woman's presence enough to marry her and produce an heir, but he still figured he had at least five years before that would be necessary.