Dare To Love

by Trisha Fuentes

  Wading my body backwards in the water, Tommy shot up directly and spat in my face on purpose. “I win.”

  I then splashed water into his. “You did not; you missed me by a horse hair. See,” I showed him, having not moved an inch. “This is where I landed.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes then dipped half his face back into the water. “Gwendolyn, you always do that,” he expressed running his hand through his wet hair. “Why can’t I ever win? You land in one place, but you swim to another.”

  “I do not,” I shrieked, splashing water into his face once again. Tommy then cupped water in his hands and sloshed liquid into mine. It turned into a competition of spatter when we heard…

  “Enfants? Chulledren? Oh là-bas vous êtes ! There you are!”

  “Oh no!” I screamed, “She found us!”

  “Hurry,” Tommy shouted, grabbing my shoulder and directing me towards the other side of the lake. “Let’s swim back to Wilderbrand, she won’t find us there…”

  ~~~~~

  Closing her eyes, Gwendolyn finally allowed the tears to worsen. With so much inundating her, she fell to her knees, gripping her stomach in heart-breaking agony. Maybe it was healthful she was there. Maybe it was meant to be…to let go, to finally release those haunting memoirs of her childhood…and about him. Burying her head within her lap, Gwendolyn let loose her lingering misery. Hurling the rest of her body to the ground, she allowed her head to rest on a soft patch of grass; reopening her eyes, she looked up at the blue sky and spotted a hawk in the distance searching for mice. Gwendolyn felt her eyes close for the last time and continued her liberation. It was good to be there…good to cry…good to move forward…move on…to start a new life…with another man…create new memories…close those doors to her past…forever.

  Continuing to weep in the middle of an overgrown field, Gwendolyn unexpectedly felt the thunderous sounds of hooves slowly emerging. Sitting up within the saw grass, she witnessed an approaching horse rapidly startling her. She barely got out of the way as it circled around and galloped near.

  Repositioning her stance Gwendolyn could not help but notice the woman atop a glorious black mount. The female was stunning, with exquisite blonde curls encasing her bright blue eyes. Her burgundy velour riding dress showed iridescent gloss and shades of purple from the sunlight, her men’s top hat engrossed roses and trailing muslin. She was poised and graceful, and when she finally calmed down her horse, Gwendolyn felt intimidated not only by her beauty, but the woman’s continued scrutiny of her own examination.

  “Who are you? You are trespassing Madame.”

  Gwendolyn was taken-back. Who was she? And why was she speaking to her in a manner as if to challenge her? “I beg your pardon?”

  “This is a gated estate Madame, a private household. What business do you have here?” The female asked, dismounting her horse and dusting down her outfit.

  Gwendolyn wiped the remaining tears away from her eyes, straitened her attitude then stared into the woman’s discourtesy, “Perhaps you can tell me who you are first, then I can begin to settle the formalities. You are the one who has breached my property, Madame.”

  She laughed sickly at Gwendolyn’s confrontation. “Am I? Why you silly girl, do you not know where you are? You have entered Wilderbrand Castle.”

  Gwendolyn crossed her arms and nodded her head. “I have not—” she stopped, doing a double take at the lake behind her. Oh no, she did enter the property. The lake separated the two lands, Gisleham Manor on the one side, Wilderbrand Castle on the other.

  The woman petted her horse’s mane and patted him on his neck. “Insufferable girl, perhaps my fiancé will enlighten you, here he comes now.”

  Gwendolyn gazed around her and observed a gentleman galloping near. Feeling enveloped all of a sudden, she began walking away from his speedy approach. Descending his stallion of camel beauty, the man strolled to the distressed woman first; they exchanged words, his back towards Gwendolyn.

  Gwendolyn overheard the couple shouting and shook her head at the sight of the couple now arguing. She was inconvenienced; after all, she too had every right to be there. She would just have to introduce herself to her new neighbor; enlightenment will soon arrive once he understood she was the new proprietor of Gisleham.

  Gwendolyn bent down and pulled a daisy growing wild in the ground; popping back up again she was alarmed at the sight of the gentlemen’s magnificent horse trotting over to be by her side. The friendly animal pointed its nose in her face and sniffed its encroachment and she reached out to pet the animal that seemed to curl into her touch. She then peeked over the horse’s nose to survey its owner more closely. The man was incomparable in height and towered over his petite fiancée. Sporting charcoal pantaloons, knee-length riding boots, striped grey waistcoat and black coat; he was exceedingly handsome with ebony waves surrounding his swarthy complexion. A melanistic creature to say the least, he turned about with ease, his chest broad and tapering to his lean waist. He accepted the lady’s hand on his forearm then leisurely approached Gwendolyn. He appeared self-assured and approximated with gliding steadiness. They’re a breath-taking couple, Gwendolyn thought as they came into clearer view, but then…as he drew closer…yet nearer, Gwendolyn’s very breath was stolen from her lungs.

  “Madame, allow me to—”

  Gwendolyn stared at him too, his green eyes rapidly looting her alertness. She tried to fathom how, when and why! Heart thumping in her ears, the booming sound echoed down to her throat. She grasped her neck, covered up her mouth in skepticism. His shocking emergence began to inundate her in deafening waves.

  Oh, dear God…could it be?

  CHAPTER THREE

  He watched her body fall to the ground before coming to her aid. Still in shock, he watched a group of horsemen appear before shoving his surprise aside so that he could finally react. One by one, each horse stopped and the rider dismounted causing the man to finally scurry over and bend down to gather Gwendolyn who fainted. Lifting her weight within his arms, he turned to shout at the nearest ear in reach. “Help me get her to the manor!”

  “What happened?” Devin asked dumbfounded watching his friend laughably circle around trying to make up his mind which horse to place her upon.

  “Here…use my horse,” Henry advised, equally shaking his head at the indecision.

  “Who is she, Katrina?” Amy asked with wide eyes, leaning into her friend.

  Katrina concentrated on her fiancé’s agitation; she had never seen him so concerned afore. “I do not know.”

  Continuing to walk with Gwendolyn within his arms, he scanned her body in disbelief. “This cannot be,” he said, shaking his head. Looking down at her unconscious, he repeated, “This just cannot be…after all these years…and—and you are alive?”

  “Are you taking her to the manor?” Devin asked in an alarming rate. “She could be a thief!”

  “Are you questioning my mandate?” The man inquired, turning sharply around and eyeing Devin Hale, his true friend, and solicitor for years.

  Devin nodded his head yes, and then peered into his associate’s piercing green eyes. “No.”

  The man turned around afresh and proceeded up the horse. “Good, because I am going to need your assistance, now hold her to me.”

  After aiding his friend with the expired woman, Devin walked over to his sister’s side. Katrina pulled up on her horse as well and he motioned for her to stay behind yanking on her sleeve.

  The man began his ascent towards Wilderbrand when all of a sudden; Phyllis unexpectedly appeared from the overgrown brush. “Malady—malady, what happened? What happened? Who are you, sir? Where are you taking her?”

  The horseman eyed the elder woman scuttling towards him. “And you are?”

  “Malady’s companion, Phyllis Tallymen, and you are, sir?”

  “5th Duke of Norwin, Madame; Earl of Wilderbrand.”

  “Have you seen her before Devin?”

  “No, I have to say, I have never
seen that chit.”

  “She concerns me, brother.”

  “Why, Katrina? Your fiancée has been true to you, I have made sure of it.”

  “I know he has, it is just,” Katrina stopped and patted down her dress, removing horsehair from the delicate fabric. “There is an unfamiliar pang in my heart. My fiancée has always been such a puzzle to me.” “But surely you have come to know the man dear; you have been his sole companion for the past several months.”

  “Yes,” Katrina paused only to look ahead towards the manor.

  “There are times when he makes me feel like I am the only woman in the world.” Looking sadly at the ground, she confessed, “Then there are others, when I look at him from across the room, and he has this faraway look in his eye. Like his heart has been damaged and is afraid to love.”

  “Sister dear, you will be the Duchess of Norwin soon. I will see to it that he marries you,” Devin said apprehensively. He knew that’s what she wanted to hear. She wanted encouragement, a little boast of confidence and oftentimes a kick in the derriere. His sister was always a little insecure, having grown up with no mother, and a gambling, drunken, neglectful Baron for a father, Devin practically raised her. Devin and his sister grew up in Dover together with Amy and Henry Barton and there were times when he felt such kinship with the Barton twins, it felt natural. He had known for years that Amy was infatuated with him, but after watching the destruction of his parents’ marriage first hand, Devin vowed never to marry. While growing up, Katrina even showed interest in Henry, for Henry had been smitten with Katrina for years; his sister was a striking girl, but Katrina kept Henry at arm’s length, on reserve until something more promising came along. At nineteen, she should have been married by now, she had so many prospects her first season out. She even had several proposals but rejected every one of them. Devin always felt that she had made the wrong decisions then, but Katrina seemed determined to live a life of luxury, unwavering to locate her knight in shining armor. Katrina always searched for a strong influence from the lack of discipline in her life. He found it in abundance after graduating from the university, but Katrina, his spoiled little sister, latched onto any influential chap that showed considerable interest in her. Enter, Monsieur Antoine Bruneau, a French aristocrat who did not take no for an answer. Devin pleaded with Katrina not to leave with him one evening, but she did it anyway just to spite. The next morning, Devin found her crying in her bedchamber. Later she confessed that Monsieur Bruneau had taken advantage of their privacy and seduced her. Katrina had willingly left with him; she was even seen at the opera with the scoundrel in a scandalous position. He wanted the man arrested, for what, he did not know, but the word “hypocrite” kept bellowing in his ears. Had he not been seen around town doing the very same thing? Ruining young innocents? But this was his one and only sister, his only sibling and the other side of the coin. He would demand a wedding ceremony, an honorable pledge. Devin called for the magistrate, but Monsieur Bruneau had fled to his native country, taking Katrina’s innocence with him. The following months were dreadful; Katrina was unhappy, unruly and hard to reason with. She had dodged the shame of an illegitimate child and he finally convinced her that the only way to redeem her inexperience was to pretend that nothing ever happened; to present herself again on the marriage mart under false pretenses. It could work, it had to succeed. Otherwise, Lady Katrina Hale would become repudiated; a spinster, or a married man’s mistress and he could not have any of that. Henry came back and his sister was happy for a while, until Katrina locked eyes with the 5thDuke of Norwin and the debonair Earl of Wilderbrand. Blast it all…Devin never wanted her to be involved with the likes of him! Bad to worse, the Duke was dangerous, a lethal chap when it came to female awareness. While Devin was known throughout London as a rakehell bachelor, His Grace’s allure was considered enigmatic. The Duke of Norwin never offered information about himself willingly so he was always a mystery to others. Devin had seen him in chase attending parties alongside him, the birds all pecking for his aloof consideration. Devin perceived his detachment as conceit, but—after getting to know the gentleman—he learned later it came from caution. Even in the company of other men, the Duke had been coveted and well liked. Devin overlooked the rumors of His Grace’s permanent bachelorhood allowing his sister to limit herself to him. She practically begged for the introduction to the most sought after bachelor in all of London, and yes, he was totally against it at first, but the Duke was the one who made the initial contact. It was too late, their eyes met, and it was all over.

  Having been engaged to the Duke for the past three months, Devin had continually ignored rumors of their improper commitment, having been seen together throughout London, without a chaperone and very close. It was what she wanted, Devin permitted, and Katrina was finally content. Devin had never been envious of the Duke, rather the contrary; he admired his tenacity keeping a disintegrating merchant trading company, thriving. After graduating from Pembroke, University of Oxford, Devin applied for a solicitor at the Hollinger Commerce Company. Meeting His Grace for the first time had been exhilarating, he had so many high hopes and visions for the future; Devin wanted to be part of it. Working together, side by side, Devin also sparked up a friendship with the Duke he never thought obtainable. The Duke latched onto Devin’s candidness and an alliance surged, there was even a special bond between them, a deep sense of camaraderie and they have been inseparable ever since. Being a gifted draftsman, Devin mentioned Lord Henry Barton to the Duke, introducing Henry’s artwork to him and the reverie turned tangible. The Duke hired Henry to design all his future vessels, making the Hollinger Commerce Company a well-established merchant trader to rival the British East India Company. In 1784, the India Act settled divided matters between control of governance and trade, clearing borders between the Crown and the maritime companies. While the British East India Company continued to expand its influence to nearby territories through threats and coercive actions, the Hollinger Commerce Company remained in the good graces of the Crown.

  “Let us go brother, I do not know why, but I have a terrible feeling about that girl. You know he is not allowed to pay attention to anyone else but me!”

  Devin climbed up on his horse, “You are acting like a child again Katrina.”

  “I just hate to share!”

  “Selfish chit,” Devin barked back at her.

  “I am not selfish,” Katrina whined, sticking out her bottom lip.

  “And for heaven’s sake, stop pouting.”

  “I do not pout,” Katrina griped, whipping her horse with a rider’s crop. The black horse let out an ear-splitting whinny, threw his head back and kicked his legs up into the air in defiance.

  “Blast it all Katrina, how many times have I told you not to whip that horse that way!” Devin shouted, trying to gallop up next to her surging steed.

  “Stop pestering me, brother. I can do what I choose on this estate, it is just a bloody horse!” She yelled back, whipping her horse again. The horse sped up, leaving Devin in a cloud of dust behind her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Gwendolyn? Can you hear me? Gwendolyn?”

  The Duke had been alone with her for the moment, soaking in her existence. Outlining her chin with his finger, he choked back emotion. God, she was…startling, he had forgotten how bewitching she was. He delicately untied the bows to her bonnet and was unguarded by the beauty lying before him. She was saintly in slumber; ringlets in reddish-brown encircled her peach-toned face. Long brunette eyelashes surrounded a haunting stare he always missed. How many nights had he dreamt of holding her within his arms?

  The Duke took out some smelling salts from within a jar and held it underneath her nostrils. One quick whoosh across her nose and Gwendolyn began to stir.

  By slow degrees, Gwendolyn commenced an endless swim through a current of darkness, her nose stung from a pungent odor and her eyes immediately popped open and focused on the stranger sitting before her. “Where am I?” She asked, s
itting up straight and bringing her hands up over her neck. “Who are you? What am I doing in this room?”