A Forbidden Love 1-4: The Wrong Brother; A Brillian Rose; The Forgotten Wife; An Unwelcome Proposal

by Bree Wolf

  Frowning, Wesley opened his mouth to reply. However, a shout from outside interfered.

  Instantly, their heads snapped sideways, and Christine almost pressed her nose to the glass as she stared out into the garden. “They’re having a snowball fight,” she exclaimed, joy ringing in her voice. Then she turned to look at him, new triumph shining in her eyes. “As unlikely as you believe it to be,” she taunted, “I think your brother has just taken the first step of falling in love with Catherine all over again.”

  Ignoring the look of decisive superiority on her face, Wesley watched as William and Catherine chased each other around the garden, throwing and evading snowballs as they went. At the sight, some of the tension left his shoulders, and Wesley hoped with all his heart that his brother would once more come to love the woman he’d married.

  In addition, that would free his mind to contemplate much more tantalising ideas that had only recently entered his mind. Glancing at Christine, he wondered what she would say if he truly were to act as he pleased.

  A part of him thought−and feared−that she might not even object.

  ***

  Seeing the joy on her sister’s face, Christine felt her own heart dancing in her chest. Catherine’s eyes glowed as she told them about the morning she had shared with William in the snow, and her voice reverberated with hope, hope that one day her husband would come to love her once more.

  Foolish plan? Christine thought with satisfaction as she remembered Wesley’s remarks from that morning. Eyeing him with disdain, she turned back to her sister. “So, what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?” Catherine asked, a frown coming to her face.

  “Well, we need to create opportunities for the two of you to be together,” Christine said, determined to proof to Wesley that her mind was capable of more than thinking of the latest fashion, “preferably alone. We cannot leave that to chance. That might take too long.”

  Stepping closer, Wesley cleared his throat, and Christine felt his presence as he came to stand to the side of her left shoulder as though he had touched her. A shiver went over her, and it took all her willpower to remain unaffected. “While we’re on the subject,” he spoke, and his breath tickled her cheek before he stepped around and looked at her, “have you considered leaving?”

  “Leaving?” That was the last thing she had expected him to say.

  Wesley nodded. “The estate, I mean. I imagine your presence here is less than…beneficial.” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes stirred her resistance, and had it not been for her sister’s presence, she would have gladly slapped that smug smile off his face once more.

  “But where could she go?” Catherine asked, oblivious to the undercurrent in her brother-in-law’s tone. “And for what reason? As his wife, she belongs at his side.”

  Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed. “Well, I could always have an ailing friend in need. I will simply talk to Will and tell him that I received a message from a friend begging me to call on her.”

  Holding her gaze for a moment too long, Wesley nodded before he said, “I suggest that we involve as few people in this as possible. Tell Will what you said,” he turned his gaze to Catherine, “and then I will take her to Sanford Manor.”

  “Sanford Manor?” A dim recollection of her sister telling her of the snug little house somewhere in the middle of nowhere entered Christine’s mind, and a shiver went down her back. “What on earth would I do there?”

  A barely suppressed grin on his face, Wesley said, “Stay out of the way,” before he turned to Catherine. “I’ll take her to Sanford Manor. As you know, it’s a small estate with only a handful of servants, and as long as she stays in her room, that shouldn’t pose a problem.”

  “Excuse me!” Christine demanded, eyeing him with a hint of suspicion. He was enjoying this too much, and the crinkles around his eyes clearly told her that he had an ulterior motive. Although her heartbeat quickened at the thought of his ulterior motive−whatever it might be−she refused to be manoeuvred across the chess board like a pawn.

  If she couldn’t be the queen, she’d rather not play at all!

  “Only,” Catherine hesitated, a touch of unease drawing down her brows, “will it be proper for you to escort her to the estate without a chaperone to accompany you?”

  Instantly, an idea flared to life, and Christine stepped forward and took her sister’s hands, elbowing Wesley out of the way in the process. “Do not worry, dear Sister. People will have no reason to gossip. After all, he is my brother-in-law.”

  As expected, she could almost feel Wesley tense up behind her. A low rumble escaped his throat, and he almost growled, “I’m not your brother-in-law. I’m Catherine’s brother-in-law.”

  Forcing an earnest expression on her face, Christine turned to him, delighted to see obvious displeasure edged into his blue eyes. “And since I’ll be Catherine, you’ll be my brother-in-law, understood?”

  Gritting his teeth, he swallowed as his eyes burned into hers, a promise of retribution flaring to life.

  Goose bumps broke out all over Christine’s body as she held his gaze, grateful for the layers of fabric that hid her own traitorous reaction to his presence. Then she allowed herself a little, triumphant smile, which had him turn on his heel and stride over to the window, before addressing her sister once more. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Me, on the other hand, will suffer greatly.”

  “Are you worried about your reputation after all?” Catherine asked, her face betraying the concern she felt.

  “Oh, aren’t you a dear?” Christine chuckled. “No, I’m worried about being locked up in a small country estate for one reason alone, and that is boredom.”

  A low growl reached her ears from the window front, and Christine could only hope that Wesley Everett was far from the gentleman he always portrayed. After all, boredom was the last thing Christine hoped to find at Sanford Manor.

  Chapter Four − Off to Sanford Manor

  Watching the footmen load their luggage onto the carriage, Christine drew her sister aside. “For once, do not worry,” she counselled, gently squeezing Catherine’s trembling hands. “Just be yourself. Laugh and smile and live as you always have with all your heart and soul, and he will remember you. I promise.”

  Blinking back tears, Catherine nodded. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered. “I know this is terribly inconvenient for you, and I can only hope that you will find something entertaining to do at Sanford Manor.”

  Suppressing a grin, Christine smiled. “Do not worry about me, dear Sister. I have every intention of finding amusement wherever I can.” Turning to William, she whispered a tearful goodbye and allowed him to assist her into the carriage.

  As he stepped back, Wesley walked up to him and gave him a brotherly embrace. Glancing at them, Christine wondered about the knowing grin that spread over Wesley’s face as he said something that had William’s eyes open wide.

  Then he stepped back, and with a last nod for his brother, Wesley took his seat in the carriage.

  “What did you say to him?” Christine asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

  Meeting her eyes, Wesley smirked, and for a moment, she thought he would not tell her.

  However, as the carriage rumbled along, slowly inching down the drive, a deep smile spread over his face. “I told him that I knew he remembered something.”

  Christine’s eyes went wide. “And did he?”

  “I’m certain of it,” Wesley confirmed. “Yesterday, when you told him about our departure, he looked at Catherine with such longing regret that I could barely contain the relief I felt. He didn’t want her to go, which became all the more obvious when you informed him of Catherine’s intention to stay behind and aid him in his recovery.”

  Clapping her hands, Christine bounced in her seat as warmth filled her heart. “How wonderful!” she rejoiced before her eyes met Wesley’s, open triumph in them. “I knew it! Maybe we should have made a wager.”

 
; Wesley laughed. “And what would you have wagered?” A smirk came to his face as his eyes slid over her, and for a moment, Christine feared…or rather hoped…that he would suggest something improper. “The contents of your closet? Although what I’d do with alluring gowns I could not say.”

  Glancing down at her simple overcoat, hiding a gown that was just as simple underneath, Christine huffed in annoyance. “Maybe we should have wagered about our destination,” she suggested, and a gleam came to her eyes. “Maybe it’s not too late to wager.” She raised her eyebrows in open challenge.

  Grinning, Wesley shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to decline. Even if you believe otherwise, I have more sense than to enter into an impromptu wager with a woman whose motives remain unclear.”

  Christine laughed. Had he always been this entertaining? “You insist on Sanford Manor then?”

  “I’m afraid I have to. After all, our siblings’ happiness is at stake.”

  Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed. “We’ve done all that we could by leaving. Where we spend the time of our absence is irrelevant.”

  “While you may be correct with regard to William’s feelings for Catherine,” Wesley stated, his gaze unwavering, “I believe it to be unwise to add to their troubles by causing rumours. You,” he fixed her with a determined gaze, “ought to stay out of sight. Therefore, Sanford Manor is perfectly suited to our needs.”

  “Our needs?” Christine asked, biting her lower lip.

  Suppressing a smile, Wesley ignored her. “It is far off the main road, and the only neighbour within reach is an old friend of ours. Therefore, we are in no danger of being discovered. Apart from the servants employed at the manor, no one will know you’re there.”

  “Do you intend to tell them who I am?”

  Frowning, Wesley hesitated. Clearly, he hadn’t made up his mind yet.

  “After all, I’m not a blood relative of yours,” Christine reminded him, and the way he met her eyes told her that he was very well aware of that fact. “Would the servants not spread rumours as well? Would people not be surprised to hear that Christine Dansby is staying at two places at once?” Grinning at him, Christine wiggled her eyebrows.

  Wesley took a slow breath, a hint of exasperation in his eyes. “I’ve not yet made up my mind,” he admitted, clearly uncomfortable at not having thought everything through as well as he thought he had. “As far as I know Catherine has been to Sanford Manor only once for a couple of days, and that was months ago. Maybe the servants do not remember her all that well, which means that you can easily pass for her.”

  Christine frowned, enjoying the way he fidgeted in his seat. “But would it not be strange for my sister to be spending the weeks before Christmas alone in a remote manor with only her brother-in-law to keep her company?”

  As his jaw clenched, Wesley inhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her.

  “You have to admit that I’m right.”

  Almost imperceptibly, his head bobbed up and down. “Do you have a suggestion then?”

  “You could tell them I’m your mistress,” she blurted out before her nerves could fail her.

  Wesley’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

  Ignoring the touch of heat that burned in her cheeks, Christine nodded. “You have to admit it makes the most sense.”

  “Does it?” he growled, shock evident in his clear blue eyes. “How so?”

  Christine once more rolled her eyes at him. “Please, Wes, you are a man of the world. Do not pretend that you do not know what I’m talking about. Tell me this: what would society think of a woman who accompanies an unrelated man to his country estate without at least a chaperone?”

  Wesley’s brows drew down as he regarded her with curiosity.

  “You know I’m right,” Christine challenged, delighted with the dark tension that had come to his posture. It made him seem wildly dangerous. Willing her heart to slow, she held his penetrating gaze. “We can give them a fake name, and I will make certain that any resemblance between me and my sister is as little as possible.”

  Swallowing, Wesley cleared his throat. “Are you not worried about your reputation should anyone find out who you truly are?”

  Christine shrugged. “Was it not you who suggested Sanford Manor for the very reason that it was off the main road?”

  “While the probability of being discovered is remote,” he huffed, “it is not non-existent.”

  Christine laughed. “Are you afraid you could be pressured into marrying me?”

  His eyes narrowed. His lips, however, curled up into a small smile.

  Unsettled for a second, Christine rushed on. “If you are, allow me to put your mind at ease. I have no intention of ever marrying…anyone. I assure you this is not a clever way to trap you into marriage.”

  If possible, his eyes narrowed even more as he regarded her with curiosity. “Is that so? Well, then I suppose there is no reason to think of another explanation, is there?”

  A relieved smile came to Christine’s face. “Not at all. I’m glad you agree with my line of reasoning. After all, it’s irrefutable.”

  Wesley chuckled. “You are an unusual woman, Christine Dansby.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Cocking her head to the side, she glared at him. “Be that as it may. At least, my explanation promises a little excitement.” A smile on her face, she bit her lower lip. “I’ve never been anyone’s mistress before.”

  Again, his eyes bulged, and he stared at her as though she had just sprouted another head.

  ***

  When the carriage drew up to Sanford Manor, it was already late at night. The snow reflected the few dim lights shining in some of the downstairs windows and thus allowed for a vague impression of the small manor house. Judging from the expression on Christine’s face, it was worse than she had expected.

  “Stay in the carriage,” Wesley instructed once it had pulled to a stop. “I’ll speak to Thompson−”

  “Who?”

  “The butler.” Glancing out the window, Wesley heaved a sigh of relief when the front door remained closed. Clearly, they had not been noticed yet. “I’ll speak to him,” he continued, turning his attention back to the woman sitting across from him, “and inform him of,” he gritted his teeth, slightly cringing at the words to come, “let’s say, the nature of our relationship.” At what point had he completely abandoned sanity and agreed to this? “He will instruct the rest of the household to stay out of our way as much as possible.”

  “That seems like a good idea,” Christine agreed. However, a good idea by her standards was probably still a bad one.

  After waving away Thompson’s apology for not having prepared for his arrival, which of course he couldn’t have considering that they hadn’t given him any notice, Wesley informed him of the delicacy of the situation.

  With each word, Thompson’s countenance grew darker, and try as he might, he could not hide his displeasure from his master. “I’ll have the rooms readied immediately and a warm supper brought up…my lord.”

  Clearing his throat, Wesley nodded. He couldn’t blame the man for his disapproval; after all, Wesley could not say why he had agreed to Christine’s suggestion in the first place. Was it truly because it had been the most reasonable explanation? He desperately wanted to believe so. However, he had to admit the thought of her as his mistress was most intriguing.

  Escorting Christine into the house, Wesley noticed with relief that no curious eyes and ears were lurking in the shadows−at least as far as he could tell. “This is to be your chamber,” he stated, stepping into the largest of the upstairs bedrooms. Anything less would have probably sent her back out into the night. As it was, she merely crinkled her nose and surveyed her new surroundings with a touch of displeasure in her dark green eyes.

  In that moment, Wesley felt the desperate desire to simply lock her in this room and only return for her once t
he situation at Harrington Park had been resolved with satisfaction−however long that would take.

  As it was, that was not an option, and so he gestured for his trusted coachman to deposit her trunks in a corner of the room before closing the door behind him. “I must ask you to stay in this room,” he implored, eyes searching hers, hoping that she would understand the gravity of the situation after all. “Everything you require will be brought up to you.”

  Christine huffed, incredulity clouding her eyes. “Surely you’re jesting.”

  “May I enquire what you are referring to?”

  Stomping her foot, she fixed him with an unwavering glare, her hands resting on her shapely hips. “Allow me to make one thing clear, my lord. I refuse to spend my time at Sanford Manor in this shoe box of a room.”

  Gritting his teeth, Wesley shook his head. He was merely trying to protect her. Why would she make this so difficult?

  Holding his gaze, she shook her head once more. “I will not.”

  “How can you−?” he broke off before he would say something unwise. Raking his hands through his hair, Wesley stomped toward her, eyes searching her face, desperately trying to understand the strange wanderings of her ever arguing mind. “You do understand that come morning the entire household will believe you to be my mistress, do you not?” he hissed, waiting…hoping…searching for a sign of shock−a slight widening of the eyes, a touch of red colouring her cheeks−any sign truly that suggested she understood the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.

  However, Christine merely shrugged. “Is that not what we’ve agreed to?” she asked, an amused curl to her lips.

  Wesley growled under his breath. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was doing this on purpose. Squinting his eyes, he stared at her. Did he know any better? After all, he had only met her a mere two years ago and scarcely laid eyes on her ever since his brother’s wedding day. How was he to know what kind of a woman she was? Had his instincts truly led him astray?

  Wesley recalled that he, himself, had stated that she was far from being a proper woman. However, he had spoken in jest and not meant it in the most scandalous way.