Dare To Love

by Trisha Fuentes

  Tears continued to rush down her face. “He is so mature Phyllis and it makes me wonder…I keep thinking of all the what ifs? What if we had survived that horrible day? What if we were still together, would we have been devoted? Would we have been content? Would we have had more children? And what of my child now? What if Mary would have known her father? What kind of child would she have been? I would have never met Charles…never would have to break his heart…”

  Phyllis grabbed Gwendolyn’s head and wrapped her palms around her face, “Break his heart? Why my dear Gwendolyn, why would you think you would have to break your fiancé’s heart? Why, when you care for someone, love cannot be pushed aside and buried away.”

  “But it has Phyllis; love has been pushed aside and buried away. And seeing him again…seeing those incredible hypnotizing green eyes of his makes me want to know the man he has now become.”

  “Oh dear,” Phyllis remarked, letting go of Gwendolyn’s face realizing what direction the conversation was heading. “Well,” she decided instantly, “I think I know what your Great-Aunt would say.”

  “What?” Gwendolyn asked, blowing her nose into her skirts.

  “At least you have a choice,” Phyllis alleged, “The documents won’t be ready for a few more days…try and get to know the man, you may find out he has changed entirely too much from the young fellow you used to know. Then your decision will be less of a burden.”

  “And what if I discover I like how he has improved?”

  Phyllis grabbed her hand and held it within hers for a moment, “Then you must weigh your alternatives.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have learned from Mrs. Hornebrook that his wedding is less than ten days away.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Thomas found Katrina sulking outside by her favorite duck pond; Amy was by her side and looked up immediately at Thomas who stood immobile.

  Before approaching her, he wondered what to say. He brought to mind all the other women in his life and how each of them, in their own distinctive way, aided him towards happiness and to get over the first.

  When he returned to Britain, solitude beset him and he took comfort in the arms of a barmaid with russet curls. Holding her for hours afterwards, he cried in her arms, beholden to her compassionate character and resemblance. Many nights henceforward he could be found crouched down to Gwendolyn’s portrait at Gisleham. Staring at her picture for hours upon hours, until the very sight of her gamine smile pained him to a degree where he was unable to breath.

  At twenty and happening upon the season, Thomas was then shocked to realize how many women found him attractive. Practically overnight, he had developed from a lanky lad to a robust, mesmeric male. Confidence then grew with every giggling female he came across, every assessment of an interested woman’s eyes. Women of every stature seemed to flock to him and he could not understand why; he did not know how to deal with so much attention and began to withdraw. While most good-looking men relish in their female appeal, their flamboyance sampling every feminine being in sight, Thomas did not. Waking up in the arms of a stranger did not feel comfortable to him and he began searching for compassion.

  Never intending on marrying again, he took company of several forlorn widows’. Mrs. Putnam, a widow in her early forties whose husband once a wealthy gent, left her with an estate to run, too much time on her hands and oh so much money to spend. She approached Thomas initially, and showed him how to make love without leaving an unwanted pregnancy. She helped passed the time and Thomas ended their affair when he stumbled upon Mrs. Putnam and her new playmate in bed together. Thomas was saddened to hear that the enthusiastic Mrs. Putnam perished recently in an unfortunate collision when her carriage wheel hit another, thus toppling over with her inside.

  Then there was Mrs. Carmichael, a widow in her early thirties. She was a tigress in bed, teaching him how to pleasure a woman at the outset so that their encounter was a more sensual, lasting experience. He liked her very much but she quickly grew possessive and Thomas had no other choice but to terminate their liaison. He had continued his acquaintance with her though, running into her at various social events, flirting with her and vice versa. She was marred woman who weathered well through a broken heart.

  Lastly, there was Lady Krausman of German decent, a widow barely nineteen. She was a funny girl, with her clever wittiness that was unsurpassed. He enjoyed her company many times, but she rapidly became desperate. Threatening that if he did not marry her, she would kill herself. Kill herself? Well, he ended their affiliation immediately, and she was still breathing last he heard, living in Oxbow with her new husband—who looks a lot like Thomas—and their four children.

  Enough with the bad relationships; Thomas decided to concentrate on business. Women to him were trivial; his father’s legacy evolved into his mistress.

  After arriving back in London, His Grace, the Duke of Norwin inherited much more than a title and money. He was in charge of the Hollinger Commerce Company, a maritime lineage passed down from his Great-Great-Grandfather. The “HCC” was a sinking undertaking. His father made the right decision by accepting the Earl of Suffolkshire’s trade to supply him with ample merchant vessels. Without the marriage arrangement, the HCC would be just another bankrupt shipping trade. The export industry to Bengal, India, Madagascar, China, Africa and South America was now his to maneuver. His father was even accommodating passengers for transport to Charleston, Virginia and Boston in North America and Thomas kept that intact as well. Gwendolyn’s dowry provided him with endless vessels of every variety: schooners, flagships, brigantines and merchant ships. The first few years weren’t without trial though. Pirates in the Eastern Seas to Madagascar commandeered several ships; inundated by infamous pirates the likes of John Rackham, Bartholomew Roberts and Red Retropé.

  When construction began; there were orders for ships making the voyage down the Atlantic, around the Cape of Good Hope, across the Indian Ocean and up through the China Sea and back. Tea production was in high demand, enthusiastic customers for the China trades; goods, like tealeaves, silks, cinnamon and firecrackers. The HCC began building clipper ships, capable of sailing to China at a rapid pace. Although only a few were being built at the time, Thomas was indeed proud of his short accomplishment. Large and substantial, sleek in profile, with a level freeboard and a narrow, V-shaped hull, her beam was 27 feet, and her keel slanted downward from 11 feet at the bow to 17 feet at the stern. She was considered to be the fastest merchant vessel afloat.

  As of late, most of his mercantile cargo was for military usage and aiding the Royal Navy with guns, uniforms, cannons and food. Every quarter, he was fortunate to take on dazzling fortunes from Arabian Kings: gold, silver, elephant tusk ivory, spices, coffers of jewelry and bales upon bales of shiny rare silks. Just recently, he had tried to maneuver away from the slave trade, but that too was good business. But he had concluded that he could get paid evenly for African antelope more so from human cargo and opted towards the transport of mutton.

  Thomas was proud of his triumph; it took him only three years to achieve his goal. And, at twenty-three, Thomas grew into one of the richest men in London and secured respect and admiration from men old enough to be his father. He actually multiplied his father’s wealth tenfold and with his suffering behind him, finally looked forward to his future. The subsequent three years have been a whirlwind of invitations, charities and voyages to North America; he was on top of the world when he spotted her from afar.

  He wanted to know her immediately not knowing who she was, but watched her materialize across the room. Her gracefulness, so enchanting, felt compelled to meet her. To his amazement, unbeknownst to him, she was his solicitor’s younger sister! He unhindered himself and allowed their friendship to grow naturally. So many years wasted on yearning for an alliance that would never resume. He longed to find similar rapport he was obligated to let go and escorted Katrina to several parties throughout the summer. He soon found out that he needed her b
y his side every moment of the day and plagued Katrina to the physical. Making her his mistress was not complex; she was a welcome participant, her body gratifying his void, her giggle melting his anxiety. Meeting her at clandestine hours, Katrina had been a breath of fresh air, his safe-haven and his confidant for the past several months. Her solace, so welcoming, alleviated the loneliness he seemed to seat within his heart. Her smiles, so lovely, like medicine for his shattered soul; he finally felt released from his misery and asked his mistress to marry him.

  “Can I have a moment alone with her Amy? You need not go very far.”

  Amy grabbed hold of Thomas’ seriousness. “Certainly.”

  Thomas waited until Amy was mid-way around the pond until he began to speak. “Ready for the shock of your life?” Thomas quipped, trying to lighten up the severity of the situation.

  Katrina gazed up at her fiancé keenly grinning down at her. “You are still married,” she said in a portentous tone.

  “But not for long,” he stated, kneeling down next to her. “Your brilliant brother is working on freeing me as we speak.”

  Katrina smiled, and then eyed the ducks waddling on the far end of the lake. “Did you love her Thomas?”

  Thomas did not want to lie to her; he never had reason to lie. Besides, what kind of marriage would be based on dishonesty? “It was an arranged marriage, we were children; I do not think we knew what love was. We shared a mutual comradeship, and she picked me only because she was my best friend.”

  That stung. Katrina had never heard Thomas talk that way before about anyone, not even about her own brother, who she considered now to be his present best friend. “Do you love me Thomas?”

  That was a bold step for Katrina, he thought. He had never expressed devotion to her before, even when he proposed, he could not mouth out the words; his affection towards her shown through tenderness and purchased appreciation, their relationship strictly emergent from repeated liaisons and accord.

  She did not let him answer, feeling restriction, feeling a sense of sudden regret. “Because I love you Thomas, with all my heart,” she let go along with her hand that grazed his cheek. “And if that means that I must surrender my honor until you are liberated, then I will wait with ungraceful patience.”

  Thomas grabbed her hand away from his face and kissed the back of her hand, holding it over his heart. He did not want to hurt her but somehow felt he already did.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gwendolyn had been intently staring at Thomas several hundred feet beyond. He had been chopping wood for hours and Gwendolyn wondered why he had not let any of his servants in his employ do the task for him. She also wondered why he was avoiding her. Eating dinner late, leaving the manor early, gone for nearly the entire day. Two days had passed, and she ached to talk to him.

  What a keen frustration for Gwendolyn to once have had his complete attention, to this day be strained to accept intermittent glimpses of him now and then. She remembered when she used to try and dodge him, push him away, yell at him to stop looking at her, or at least give her a second alone! What she wouldn’t give to have just a few moments of his curiosity now? What a reversed turn of events! And why did he have to be so entrancing to look at now? It was his body that matured; she recognized in the end, she had never seen a man so sickly sweet with broad, symmetrical shoulders with muscles that would not give. Gorgeous, yes, that was the ideal word to describe him at this point; he was mouth-watering to glare upon. Had he always been that way? No…She brought to mind the thin, gawky lad he once was, he was bashful to say the least. And now…dear God, how many other women must have fallen in love with him at first sight? Oh God, she was hurting inside at present. She wanted, no throbbed to have his sole concentration again.

  “Heavens me, what could be so fascinating?” Katrina asked, arriving alongside Gwendolyn raising an eyebrow in aversion over Gwendolyn’s brown silk morning dress.

  Gwendolyn had not counted on Lord and Lady Hale to arrive at that very moment. She watched another opportunity go by, as it seemed very unlikely for her to get Thomas alone with the manor energized with preparation for the evening’s festivities. Learning from Mrs. Hornebrook that a planned dinner party was set for that night, Gwendolyn was reluctant to spend the evening there.

  “I want to go into town,” Gwendolyn spurted out suspiciously, continuing to look out in the distance.

  Katrina laughed and followed Gwendolyn’s concentration. “He is quite tempting, is he not?”

  Gwendolyn turned to look at her. She was wearing a white satin bonnet with ostrich feathers and gold braid. With a pink embroidered spencer jacket, puffed shoulders encased her cotton percale dress with muslin flounces. She appeared absolutely faultless, but Gwendolyn felt there was another side to this alley cat and she was apprehensive to experience her claws. “I would not know, I once knew the boy—that over there…is a man.”

  Katrina smiled seductively, licking her lips. “Yes and quite an attractive man at that.” She traced around Gwendolyn and surveyed her attitude, “You should have seen him in battle my dear—he was absolutely breath-taking in action.”

  “In action?”

  Katrina clicked her tongue, “On the prowl? Lurking around? After every form that happened to wear a skirt?”

  Gwendolyn’s blood began to boil. God, she hated this girl! “How did you two meet?”

  Katrina gazed out at Thomas now and watched him intently as well. “I was invited to several parties he had hosted, but never got familiar enough to be introduced. Seems Thomas over there likes his fun, spirits…and games. Oh his social events were all the rage of the season. There was not a female within a hundred kilometers uninvited to one of his affairs.” She laughed and then looked over at Gwendolyn who was not amused. “Oh, but I guess there was.”

  Gwendolyn swallowed her contempt and began to walk forward, Katrina followed slowly behind. “And when did you two meet?” She repeated.

  “Thomas owns a shipping trade; you knew that, did you not? Well, my brother Devin applied for an opening in one of his employ. They became instantaneous friends and invited my brother everywhere. Devin escorted me to one such social highlight and aided my encroachment.”

  “I see,” Gwendolyn stated, holding up her dress and marching on.

  Katrina sustained her stride. “Do you Gwendolyn? Because according to Thomas, you were once the best of friends, and after we are married, I do wish to keep my husband in high spirits and hope to remain acquaintances.”

  Gwendolyn stopped and bore into Katrina’s spiteful blue eyes. Friends with her? She would rather befriend a cockroach. “If you do not mind, Katrina, I would like to speak to Thomas alone.”

  “But I do mind, Gwendolyn,” Katrina voiced with disdain. “You are headed towards my fiancé…” she stopped and eyed Thomas again. “And since neither one of us is accompanied by our companions, it is uncustomary to approach a man alone; especially one who is as vigorous as the Duke of Norwin.”

  Gwendolyn did not realize how close she was to him. Now only a few feet away, Thomas had stopped chopping wood and stood and stared at the two women’s unannounced materialization. His shirt, by some means, escaped his upper body. He stood panting and grasping for breath and carefully laid his ax down by his leg. His broad chest was covered with disorderly black curls and he glistened from the strenuous activity, welcoming the sun that bronzed his skin. His pantaloons appeared much too relaxed to withhold his muscular thighs and yet, they appeared painted on.

  Thomas grinned from ear to ear and powdered his hands once again, rewrapping the ax. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Katrina bit down on her lower lip and practically ate the man alive. “Devin and I are here for our Thursday feast with several of the ton dear, did the ritual escape your mind?”

  Thomas did not look at her and swung the ax around. His taut strapping arms flew up over his head and came down with a whack aside the lumber, splitting it accurately in two. “No, I did not forget Kat
rina,” he strained to say through splitting, “And why are you here Gwendolyn?”