“Frustrating, a strength?” Carolyn sounded appalled.
“Well, maybe not that one.” Annalise laughed. “Now, Carolyn, don’t you worry about finding the right man. He’ll be along before you know it, and if not, Gordon and I are happy to have you remaining with us.”
“Or, you could always stay with us,” Isabella added. “Likely Lady Starsen will be overjoyed to have you.”
Carolyn’s lips turned up in a smile. “You mean, the soon to be dowager countess.”
“Oh goodness.” Isabella’s mouth fell open. “I will be Lady Starsen. I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”
“It’ll be fine. Just as long as you don’t begin to act like her.” Annalise put her hand over her chest as if horrified by the idea.
All three ladies laughed. Although Isabella agreed the woman had a trying disposition, matters between them had eased. In these past weeks, she and Henry had dined frequently at Avange Manor, and the evenings have been quite pleasant. Lady Starsen had even been kind during her visits.
A knock at the door brought Henry to announce it was time for the wedding to begin. She lightly hugged her friends before they filed out the door to ready for the ceremony. Nerves leapt in her throat at the idea. This was truly happening. After months of believing this day would never arrive, she was to be married in a matter of minutes.
“You look so much like your mother.” Henry’s voice was thick. “She would have loved to have been here.”
“Yes, but I am glad to have my father here to give me away.”
A smile ghosted over his lips. “I may be giving you away, but if he doesn’t treat you right, I’m taking you back.”
She laughed at the serious expression on his face. “Thank goodness we have no reason to worry over that.”
“Let’s hope not. Now, quit this talking so we can get you out there and make you a countess.”
Nodding, she allowed Henry to lead her out of the room and down the hallway. Her hands shook as the doors opened, revealing numerous people standing, their eyes all on her. Terror clutched her as she and Henry moved down the aisle. Then, her gaze met Marcus’s.
Her breath caught. The love she saw shining in his eyes beckoned her. Everyone else faded away until it was only the two of them there, about to embark on the most important journey of their lives.
Once she reached Marcus, her nerves had completely dissipated, and a sense of rightness had taken over. Staring into her beloved’s face, she knew every moment of her life had been bringing her to this moment. To him.
She couldn’t concentrate on the minister’s words, nor was she aware of the guests watching them. Her entire focus was on the man beside her. When the ceremony had concluded, she allowed her husband to lead her down the aisle.
He didn’t stop until they were in the bride’s room. As soon as the door clicked shut, she was in his arms. His hungry mouth devoured her as his hands splayed across her back, keeping her tight against him.
“I’ve been waiting an eternity to do that,” he breathed against her neck. “Now that I have you, I’m not going to let go.”
Joy made her chest shake. “I love you, Marcus.”
“I love you, too. So much.” His gravelly voice struck her to her core.
He nuzzled her neck, and they remained like that for a long while. Their guests were forgotten. It was only him and her. Forever.
Turn the page for a glimpse of
Book Four in the
TOUCHED BY FIRE series!
Book IV: Enchanting the Duke of Demoon
Chapter 1
Carolyn Ashford griped the reins of her mare. The animal jerked against the bit, but she pressed on, leading them toward the secluded spot she’d tied the horse a dozen times before. After dismounting, she nearly fell as the animal reared its head back, pulling the reins from Carolyn’s hand.
“Beauty!” she scolded, reclaiming the leather strap and petting the mare’s neck to soothe her. “What has gotten into you?”
Although her ears were laid back in an irritated manner, Beauty seemed to settle under Carolyn’s gentle strokes. Not wasting any time, she secured the mare with enough lead to graze, then collected her supplies from the saddlebags. If only she had a hint of her brother, Gordon’s, talent with horses. As it stood, she was a much better reader when it came to people. Not that she knew how to handle people any better than horses.
Not wanting Beauty’s discomfort to ruin the peaceful time she had ahead of her, she patted her mare’s nose, again, before moving toward her private sanctuary.
Anxiousness bit at her heels as she hurried to find the hidden opening to the secret garden she’d found. When she’d stumbled upon it a few years ago, the place had been overgrown. It had taken her a long time, but she’d managed to restore it to what she believed had been its original glory. In the end, she was very proud of her accomplishment. Gardening was her true passion.
Moving through the ivy, she took a deep breath of the intoxicating scent of the fall flowers. Winter would be upon them soon, and she had a lot of labor ahead of her to ensure her hard work survived the cold.
As she moved through the rows of flowers and plants, she couldn’t stop a smile from forming. She felt at home. Dailey Manor had lost a little of that feeling since the birth of her nephew. She was thrilled for Gordon and Annalise, but the baby was a completely foreign thing to her. Until he was able to communicate, Carolyn feared she would need to keep her distance from the adorable, albeit loud, bundle.
Turning the corner, she sought the place she had ended when she went home the previous night. Being away for the season in London hadn’t helped her garden one bit.
“Do you know you could be shot for trespassing?” a rough male voice asked.
She jumped, dropping her supplies. She’d been too preoccupied with her surroundings to notice the man on the bench. He sat with his left leg bent up beside him and his arm draped over his knee. His long blond hair hung loosely down his shoulders, and hid most of his face. She sucked in her breath as his baby-blue eyes studied her.
“No response for me?” He lifted an amused eyebrow.
A flush crawled up her cheeks as she realized she’d been staring at him. Although she wasn’t entirely comfortable conversing with strange men, she had never lost her concentration before.
“I’m sorry”—she took in his well-tailored riding coat and breeches—“my lord. When I found this garden, it had clearly been unused.”
His jaw tightened. “So, you thought you could come here and take liberties with property that belongs to the Duke of Demoon?”
She winced upon hearing the name of her brother’s northern neighbor. The man probably would have her executed for this. He was known to have a horrible temper and the same amount of cruelty as his father before him.
“His Grace doesn’t deserve to have a place like this if he allows it to be abused.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “And, if he intends to punish me for trespassing, you shall receive the same treatment.”
He laughed and the sound brought a tingling low in her belly. “You presume too much, Miss. How do you know I haven’t received permission from the duke to visit this land?”
Heat climbed up her cheeks. He was correct. She studied him, but the man’s face, or what she could see of it, remained closed to her. The inability to read his thoughts irked her. She should simply thank him for the warning and leave, but reluctance tugged at her. This was her sanctuary.
Although they were completely alone, she felt no danger from his presence. It helped that he hadn’t altered his position and didn’t appear to have any intention of moving, either. She dug her heels in. She didn’t want to leave her garden. It was the only place she could relax.
“Considering His Grace’s reputation, I find that doubtful,” she responded.
He pushed his hair behind his right ear, leaving the other side still blocked from her. Being able to see more of his face allowed her to gauge his feelings better. His curiosi
ty didn’t surprise her, but the anger seething under the surface did.
“What exactly are you referring to?”
It was her turn to laugh, in part to diffuse the tension radiating from him. “How could you possibly have survived in this part of the country without having heard the talk? I imagined his reputation is known in London as well, though not widely discussed.”
“Perhaps I wish to know more current information.”
Suspicion leaked through her at his adamancy. She put her hands on her hips. “If you know the duke, you would not have to ask me about him.”
The man was hiding something, and she refused to give him what he wanted while he lied to her. Clearly, he was another one of those gentlemen who used others for his own gain. She wouldn’t allow him to use her like that.
He let out a sigh. “Well, you got me. So, do you intend to answer my question? I’m unaccustomed to having to ask more than once.”
After his admission, she really couldn’t see the harm in divulging common knowledge about the duke, so she shrugged. “Although no one has seen him in years, his brutality is widely known. They say he’s exactly like his father.”
The man’s eyes hardened. “How does such a report become known when the duke hasn’t managed to leave his castle, as you say?”
Her eyes widened at the fury in his tone. “Save your anger for someone else. I wasn’t the one who began the rumors. And, why should you care so much?”
He shifted his leg to the ground, then stood up. Carolyn stifled a gasp. Sitting as he was, she hadn’t expected him to be so big. Even with the distance between them, she could tell he was nearly a foot taller than her. And muscular. Said muscles bulged against the sleeves of his jacket. Likely the seamstress had used twice as much fabric as usual to cover those arms. She’d never before seen a man built with such power.
Fear gripped her, but admiration kept her rooted to the spot. With his hair flying around his head, and his face half in shadow, she had to admit, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”
Without another word, he disappeared down the path off to his side. As she stood, wide-eyed, she resisted the urge to watch him walk away. She shook her head. That was a ridiculous thought. As she bent over to collect her supplies, she could barely control the tremble in her hands.
Never before had she felt such an interest in a man. The idea that she could have such feelings intrigued her. Something was different about him, and it surprised her to realize she wanted to see him again. However, fate was a hard mistress. Clearly, he was new to this area, and she didn’t even know his name.
~ ~ ~
Edmund Marsham, Duke of Demoon, glanced at his cousin. “Come now, Thomas. I can’t believe you have lived at Moonlight Castle for a year now and have never heard a word.”
With a snort, Thomas threw back his brandy. “You’re my cousin. Do you honestly believe people are so stupid as to defame your reputation to my face?”
His knuckles turned white as he gripped his glass while studying Thomas’s expression. When drunk, his cousin was powerless to hide his true feelings. Not to mention how, over their childhood, Edmund had become adept at reading the younger man.
“I don’t care what part of you they were talking to, your face or otherwise, I just want to know what was said.”
Thomas let out a long breath. “Why do you care all of a sudden? It isn’t as though the talk has changed recently. You never leave these walls, so let them say what they will.”
Forcing himself out of his chair, Edmund moved to the window and looked out over his property. Ever since the fire eleven years ago, he’d hidden himself away and allowed his uncle to see to any duty located outside the castle. However, it didn’t mean he had no care for the tenants, his neighbors, or his responsibilities. To hear people honestly thought him to be in even the remotest way like his father drove a knife in his chest. He was nothing like that man. Nor, would he ever be.
“Listen,” Thomas began at his silence. “When you hide away like you have, people begin to speculate. And, your mother . . . Well, she doesn’t exactly discourage negativity.”
Edmund gripped his hand on the curtain. There was no help for it. He took a deep breath, and forced his body to relax. In the end, it didn’t matter what they said, nothing would change.
The image of the diminutive blonde with striking green eyes filled his mind. He couldn’t explain why the idea that the woman who had stumbled upon his secret garden was speaking ill of him bothered him more than any of the other nameless faces.
The fact she had discovered the garden had earned his respect. Recalling her myriad of gardening tools, he had a sinking suspicion she had been one of the people responsible in restoring the garden. At first the idea had angered him, but now it seemed like she had given him a gift. After all, he had enjoyed the fruits of their labor for over a year now.
“Come on.” Thomas put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s head to dinner, otherwise we’ll be late and you know how the duchess feels about that.”
Knowing a response wasn’t necessary, Edmund pulled his mask from his jacket pocket and slid the leather strap across his head, angling it so he could see. He loathed wearing the thing, but he had no choice. Most of the time, he managed to hide his disfigured face with his hair, but his mother insisted he always wear it in her presence.
The leather mask molded the left side of his face, pulling at his hair until he set it just right.
“I wish you would just look at yourself in the mirror. Considering the damage can be covered so easily, it can’t be all that bad.”
Gritting his teeth against the familiar argument, Edmund put his shoulders back. “I don’t need to see in order to know what I am. No mirrors. It’s been that way for over a decade, and I have no intention of changing it now.”
He ignored the further protests from his cousin as he pushed past him and made his way to the dining room. His mother and uncle had already taken their seats and had begun the first course. He winced at the glare she shot him.
“Why am I not surprised the two of you are late? We’d begun to lose hope.” She cast her hateful glance at Thomas as well.
“Aunt Gwyneth, it’s barely one minute past.” Thomas held his watch fob out to her as if needing to provide proof.
She wrinkled her nose. “As I said. Late.”
The course was quickly set in front of them. Unconcerned with the other occupants in the room, Edmund dipped his spoon into the soup, wanting to have the production over with. His mother liked to argue, and he did not.
“Let them be,” Uncle Joseph chided. “The boys have arrived now.”
Thomas snorted. “Boys? My dear uncle, I daresay it has been years since that term applied to us.”
“Then, perhaps you should stop acting like it,” the duchess rebutted. “Now, as I was telling your uncle, before you so rudely interrupted, I think we need to revisit my idea to host a ball.”
Edmund slammed his glass down so hard, wine sloshed over the wooden surface of the table. A maid gasped and quickly moved forward.
“Don’t,” he barked, using his own napkin to mop up the liquid. He’d be damned the day he was so weak he couldn’t even clean up his own mess.
“Edmund, really? Must you do that at the table? Let the girl do her job.”
“I’m not hosting a ball.” His voice emerged even, calm, nothing compared to the anger rolling through his entire being.
She laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting you do. Your uncle does a fine job handling such things in your place.”
“Let me make myself clearer. Your guests aren’t allowed inside my house.”
The look she shot him would have withered a weaker man. Edmund simply stared back. The difference, in this woman before him to the caring mother she had been prior to his father’s death, was astounding. It made him wonder if their only bond had been the torment his father had put upon both of them.
<
br /> “Joseph?” Her shrill voice could have shattered every piece of glass in the room.
“Don’t worry,” Uncle Joseph muttered. “The duke and I can discuss it later.”
She batted her eyelashes at his uncle, and Edmund bit down on his teeth at the display. The woman had been manipulating her husband’s brother for years. With Uncle Joseph’s mild disposition, it was no surprise he allowed it, but the fact always irritated Edmund.
Regardless, his uncle could speak to him all he liked, the matter was closed.
~ ~ ~
The sound of rustling had Carolyn darting her gaze around her. She let out a breath. Again, it was nothing. She turned back to her weeding. Before long, the ground would become too hard to remove the smothering plants. She hated that her season in London had caused her to neglect providing the care such a place required.
At the snapping of a twig, she dropped her head to her chest. She shouldn’t have come back here. Although the duke hadn’t posted a notice, the lord she’d met yesterday had given her a clear warning. And the idea that he would return at the same time as she was unlikely. Especially since he hadn’t arrived in the past few hours she had been there.
“I see you have no respect for private property.”
She froze upon hearing the gravelly voice. He’d come. Tingling began in her belly, and she cleared her throat to diffuse the sensation. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed him towering over her, his face in the shadow as his long blond hair blew in the breeze. He was magnificent.
“Neither do you.” She turned back to her gardening, attempting to still her shaking fingers.
“Perhaps I don’t, but I come here for the solitude, and your presence disrupts that for me.”
She snorted. “It’s a large garden, my lord. I’m sure we can both find a place for ourselves here.”
Ensnaring Lord Starsen Page 21