by Dawn Brower
“I have to go.”
“I thought you might,” Lulia replied. “But you’re going to waste more time if you do.”
Diana halted at the door and turned to glance at her friend. “Pardon?” Lulia said a lot of cryptic things in the time she’d come to know her. She could usually understand what she meant but that last statement didn’t make any sense at all.
“He said a lot of things last night but he didn’t mean any of it. Your Lord Northesk will be looking for you.”
“What makes you so certain?” Hope began to flow through her. Could Lulia be right? Could he still want her? If he did what would she do? “He seemed rather assured of his decision when he spoke.”
Lulia crossed the room and came to stand in front of her. She cupped Diana’s cheeks in her palms and held her gaze. “Do you remember our first meeting?”
How could she forget? She’d been so enthralled by Lulia’s skills. Diana had wanted to be Lulia and had begged her to teach her fencing. Her life hadn’t really started for her until that day. Nothing had made sense and she had no idea where it all would lead her. She never would have thought it would bring her to the only man she’d ever love, and she did love Luther. She always had. There was no doubt in her heart that he was the one for her. As foolish mistakes went hers was perhaps one of the biggest. “It’s not a day I’d easily forget.”
“He was there that day too. There was a bit of sadness in his eyes, but still he wanted to protect you—believed I would lead you down a path of sin no doubt.”
“In some ways you have.” Diana smiled. “But I have no regrets.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Lulia kissed her forehead. “You are a brave brilliant woman. Your journey was always leading back to him. Some people belong together and there was never any doubt which man called to your heart. Trust in yourself, and in him.” Lulia stepped away from her and started sorting the weapons again. “True love can’t be denied and he might be hurt, but the love is still there. He can’t ignore it any more than you can.”
Diana took a deep breath and thought about Lulia’s advice. Luther had claimed to love her. She either believed his proclamation or she didn’t. Maybe a part of her had sabotaged their budding relationship because she’d been afraid of it failing, but now that she had time to consider it all there was only one conclusion she could make from it all. She hadn’t been scared of failure—it was finding complete happiness that terrified her to the depths of her soul. To find it and embrace the joy… That would mean she would have to lose the brooding nature she’d adapted to. Maybe Lulia was right and he would come looking for her, but she didn’t want to sit around and wait. She’d rather find him and settle everything between them once and for all. Without saying a word to Lulia she spun on her heels and headed out of the room only to hit something solid. She glance up and met Luther’s gaze.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
She didn’t say anything for several heartbeats. Lulia had been right… “Why are you here?”
“For you,” he replied softly. “As much as I’d like to I can never stay away from you.”
He was so handsome and she loved him—her Luther. The man believed in taking risks and he’d taken a enormous one with her. There was only one way she could react to this. She had to take a chance on him the same way he’d done with her. Diana wound her arms around his neck and stepped up to press her lips to his. He hadn’t kissed her in truth and she wanted to know what it was like to have his lips on hers. Luther didn’t hesitate to take control. He pulled her against him and deepened the kiss. Fire spread through her with each press of his lips against hers. Nothing could ever be as magical as the passion that consumed the both of them. She wasn’t sure where he began and she ended. All she was certain of was that she was finally where she belonged—in his arms.
Luther stepped back and stared at her. His eyes were filled with love and it warmed her from the inside out. “I love you more than I can ever completely explain.”
Her lips tilted upward. “I love you too.” He didn’t respond right away. The silence was almost deafening. Nothing existed except the two of them. He seemed to be searching for something but she didn’t understand what it could be. Did he not believe her? “I know that I haven’t given you many reasons to believe in me. My fears consumed every inch of me and I couldn’t seem to find a way past them. Today something finally fell in place and I realized that I was always meant to love you. I just hope it’s not too late for us to have a future together.”
Luther brushed his hand over her hair. “Darling,” he said softly. “You’re my everything. Without you I’d be miserable for the rest of my days. I can’t imagine a life without you.” He went down on his knees and wrapped his arms around his waist as he stared up at her. “Be my wife and promise to stay by my side forever.”
“Nothing would make me happier.” She leaned down and kissed him quickly. “I’d give up anything for your love.”
He rose to his feet and hugged her against him. “I would never change you. I’m sorry I even tried. All I ask is that you include me in everything. I don’t want you to take unnecessary chances and I’d like to be by your side for it all.”
“I promise,” she told him. “No more secrets. I’d like to have you with me and I can’t wait to begin our life together.”
When the day had started she never imagined it would lead her back to Luther. She’d believed him when he claimed to give up on her. Thankfully, he hadn’t and they had a chance at a future together. She’d finally found love and if they were lucky they’d remain eternally happy. Diana couldn’t ask for anything more, but somehow she expected she would. There were things she wanted in her life and Luther was only the beginning of all her desires…
Sneak Peek: A Gypsy’s Christmas Kiss
A Scandal Meets Love Christmas Novella
Dawn Brower
Prologue
Tenby, Wales 1803
Cold wind blew through the small coastal town with frigid efficiency. The bitterness settles into Finley Prescott, the new Duke of Clare’s gut. His father’s funeral still lingered in his soul. The grief had been unshakeable and Fin wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to lose the grip it held him in. If he managed to let go of that feeling then it meant his father’s death hadn’t left its mark on him. He wasn’t ready for the responsibility of the dukedom. His father shouldn’t be dead already. What kind of world did he live in when a man didn’t live past his fortieth year? Did that mean he wouldn’t have a long life? Both his parents were gone, and Fin was completely alone in the world. He had no one to lean on and share his grief with. It was the Christmastide season and it should be a time of joy. It never would be for him again. This time of year would always mark a change in his life he’d not been ready for. He’d only turned twenty the day before, and what had been his gift? His father’s death courtesy of the brutish horse Fin had given him as an early gift. He honestly hadn’t thought his father would ride the stallion. Fin had meant for him to use it as a stud, but his father had been insistent about trying him out. The horse had thrown him and his neck broke instantly.
Fin had committed patricide.
Oh, he knew he hadn’t actually done it, but he’d been the instrument all the same. If he’d not give his father that damn horse he’d still be alive. That kind of guilt would never go away. He would have to live with that truth the rest of his miserable days. Perhaps he wouldn’t die a young age. The older he lived the longer he’d suffer for the crime he’d committed.
He walked along the shoreline staring out at the sea. Maybe he should leave Wales for a time. It was his home, but did he really deserve to be there? They would all look at him either judging him, or pitying him. Either way he didn’t want to look in the faces of those around him with their mixed emotions messing him up more with each passing day. He didn’t pay attention to where his feet lead him. He roamed up the hill and into the small town. There was a small shop that some gypsy’s ran when the
weather turned too cold for them to roam the lands. He’d never gone inside, and found it odd that they had a shop at all. It wasn’t normal for a gypsy to be tied down. Though he supposed they weren’t really. They kept their own hours and only kept it open during two of the winter months. The rest of the time they were gone. He had to wonder how they could keep the building itself for such a short time.
He headed toward it his curiosity too much for him to ignore. Fin reached the door and tested the door knob surprised to find that it turned. He stepped inside the shop. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside of it. The shelves were nearly empty. Some candles filled one of them in different sizes ranging from long tapered candles to thick oblong ones. He picked one up and tested its weight. They seemed solid enough…
“Can I help you, my lord?”
Fin opened his mouth to correct her that he was a duke as he turned. He met the gaze of one the most ethereal girl’s he’d ever seen and kept his mouth shut—his title didn’t matter. She had violet eyes and hair the color of the night sky unfettered by stars. He bet it would be lovely dressed with diamonds, and would put a star studded sky to shame in its beauty. She had it plaited with a long braid that fell to the middle of her back. The girl couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen and he shouldn’t be admiring her. Maybe when she grew up… He shook that thought away.
“I don’t know if anyone can help me,” he finally said.
“You have a great sadness in you,” she said. “Please come sit and I’ll tell your fortune.”
Fin didn’t believe in such things, but it would help delay his return home. He didn’t much feel like gathering around mourners and their sympathetic gazes. He’d made enough of a mess of things and there was no fixing it. He might as well humor the girl and let him tell her fortune. Fin walked over to a chair in front of a table. She sat on the other side. “Give me your hand.”
“Does it matter which one?”
She shook her head. “No, whatever one you’re comfortable with.”
He lifted his hand and set it on the table. She flipped it over and trailed her fingers over his palm. The gypsy was quiet for several moments and then she glance up at him. There was a bit of surprise in her glance, but whatever had earned that particular look she kept to herself.
“Tell me, my lord, do you believe in love?”
“I’m not sure I do. Nothing in my life has made that particular emotion well received.” He’d experienced far too much loss. “Do you?”
She smiled. “Love isn’t for everyone and I’m young yet. I’ve at least witnessed the possibility.”
Try as he might he’d never be able to explain why he’d been drawn to her from the moment they met. There was something unidentifiable about her—almost special. “Do you have a name?”
“We all have names, my lord, even you.”
Fin wanted to laugh at her words. He was acting rather silly and deserved that response from her. This small moment of time with her had lightened his mood quite a bit. There was a truth in her eyes that told him she’d never lie to him. He needed more people like her in his life. “If I tell you mine, will you share yours?”
“Perhaps,” she replied cryptically.
She’d known he was of noble birth since the moment she’d started talking to him. He hadn’t told her how far his rank rose to keep her from being even more formal. He wanted to keep that to himself longer so he wouldn’t give her anything other than his given name. For some reason he wanted their relationship to be on more intimate grounds. “My name is Finley, but my close friends call me Fin.” At least they did—some might start calling him Clare now. He hated that idea already. Before then he’d been the Marquess of Tenby. They should have called him by that title, but he’d insisted on Fin. He hoped the ones that mattered still called him that.
“It’s nice to meet you Fin,” she said politely, but still didn’t offer her name. She kept staring at his palm and nibbling on her bottom lip. She was so bloody beautiful and she’d probably only grow even more so as she matured.
“What is so fascinating in my palm?” he finally asked.
She jerked her head up and barely met his gaze. Had she seen something she hadn’t liked? Had he been wrong and he was doomed to die young? Wouldn’t that be rich? He couldn’t say he was surprised at that fate. Not too many of the Duke’s of Clare managed to live past the ripe ole’ age of forty. If he only had two more decades left maybe he should start living it now.
She shook her head. “You have two paths—a fork in which you must choose. One path leads you to happiness but some heartache along the way.”
“And the other?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know but the morbid side of him had to ask.
“It means death.”
He sighed. No, that little bit didn’t surprise him one bit. “An early one?”
She shook her head. “Not your death, my lord, the one you love will die.”
He jerked back at her words. His death he could accept, but someone he loved? No, that couldn’t happen. He would just refuse to fall in love. That would be easy enough to do. He didn’t particularly want to give his heart to anyone, and he surely didn’t want to live with the guilt of another’s death.
“I think this fortune is over.”
She held on to his hand. “Don’t go. I can see you’re already going down the wrong path. Please listen…”
He yanked his hand out of her grasp and fell backward in the chair. His head smacked against the floor and she rushed to his side. She brushed back his hair and crinkled her brows together. “You have such pretty golden blond hair, my lord and your eyes are the color of the sea on a hot summer day. I’d hate to see either marked with blood and death. You already carry too much sadness.”
Her accent almost made the words sound poetic or perhaps he had become delirious from hitting his head so hard. He reached up and twined his hands around her head and pulled her down toward him. When she was close enough he closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. They were a lovely pink and so delectable to taste. She didn’t fight him and it was the one good thing he’d had in days.
She pushed on his chest lightly and sat back on her haunches. “While that was lovely it can’t happen again.”
“Do you believe in risks?”
She shook her head. “Some risks are too great, but yes, there are times they are worth it. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve made too many mistakes in my life to risk my heart. I can’t love anyone.”
“That would be a mistake,” she said softly. “For you more than anyone needs love. Our lives are best left to fate. Some pain is worth living for. You can try to prevent it, but by doing so you’ll miss your greatest joy.”
He wished he could take her advice, but he couldn’t do as she suggested. It was clear to him by her little fortune happiness wasn’t something he could afford to try for. The world would be better off if he remained alone. His pain wasn’t meant to be thrust on the innocent.
“Are you going to at least tell me your name?” he asked as he came to his feet. Fin straightened his jacket and glanced at her. He didn’t like the look of sadness that had filled her violet eyes. “Not you too.”
“My name doesn’t matter. I’m leaving tomorrow and I have no plans of returning. I doubt we will ever cross paths again.”
“Then it won’t hurt for you to share it.”
He didn’t know why it was so important to him to have her name, but he felt in his gut he should know it. They’d shared a kiss. Shouldn’t they at the very least be on a first name basis? He knew they had no future together, but he wanted something to hold on to in the cold dark nights ahead. He’d never have love, but he wanted this small thing.
“Lulia,” she said quietly.
He nodded at her and smiled for the first time in days. “Lulia,” he said her name softly. It was almost like a benediction for him. “Thank you.”
“For what?” She tilted her head, her accent a melody he’d never
tire of. “I’ve given you nothing but grief and set you on a path of destruction.”
“That’s not how I see it,” he explained. “You have given me a purpose. I’ll be stronger for it.”
She frowned. “No,” she replied defiantly. “You will be alone. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I pray, that in time, you’ll realize there is a better choice to make. There will be a time when you reach that fork and when you do please choose love.”
With those words she spun on her heels and left him alone. He would probably never forget her. She was wrong though—he could never choose love. That would be the one thing he could never do. It would be the beginning of the end if he did.
Click here to preorder A Gypsy’s Christmas Kiss
About the Author
Dawn Brower holds a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology, a Master of Arts in Education, and a Master of Arts in Liberal Arts with concentrations in Literature, History, and Sociology. She works as a substitute teacher and enjoys the flexibility it gives her to concentrate on her other endeavors.
Growing up she was the only girl out of six children. She is a single mother of two teenage boys; there is never a dull moment in her life. Reading books is her favorite hobby. While she loves all genres she focuses most of her writing on historical and contemporary romance.
There are always stories inside her head; she just never thought she could make them come to life. That creativity has finally found an outlet.
For more information visit her website at: http://www.authordawnbrower.com/
Books by Dawn Brower
Broken Pearl