The Vixen in Red

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The Vixen in Red Page 9

by Dawn Brower


  He lifted a brow, almost arrogantly. “We don’t discuss these things. They’re best left unsaid.”

  Scarlett sneered. He was a fool then. “Perhaps you should remind the ladies that brought us into this world of that fact. I do not believe they’ve received that particular message.”

  Christian sighed. “You’re right of course.” He stood in front of a large mirror and stared at his reflection. He was a rather handsome young man, and would probably become more gorgeous through the years. He wasn’t for her though. She didn’t know her future, but she did know she would not be a future duchess. That fate seemed atrocious and she refused to believe she’d fall in love with a man destined to thrust her in the middle of societal expectations. She would much rather do as she pleased without taking any of that into consideration.

  “Do you know how time travel works?” he asked, still staring at the mirror.

  “I do,” she answered. “Well, not completely, I understand its possible, and that my family has certain gifts that allow us to bend time to our will. I don’t know how they make it work.”

  Scarlett stared at the mirror. There was something unusual about it, and she was drawn to it. She wanted to touch it, but that meant moving closer to Christian. Before she realized what she was doing she had walked over to it and stood directly next to him. Their reflections staring back at them, almost taunting both her, and Christian, to reach out and what? Step inside? That didn’t seem right. She closed her eyes and she could envision it. The two of them walking hand and hand right through that reflective glass.

  “It’s speaking to you too isn’t it?” Christian asked in a hushed whisper. “It talks to me all the time and some days I almost want to give in to it.”

  Was that what it did? Spoke to those with abilities and lured them to the other side? Is that what had happened to her mother? Scarlett had never asked her how she’d travelled, and in turn, she’d never offered the details. Now she wanted to find out. Later, she’d finally ask her mother. She might volunteer the information on her own. Her mother’s special gift was empathy and she could easily discern what bothered people. “It’s doing something,” she admitted. Scarlett reached for his hand and clasped in in her own. She didn’t understand why she felt the need but didn’t question it either. He glanced down at their hands, then met her gaze.

  “If you wanted to hold my hand you should have said so sooner,” he said in a flirtatious tone.

  “Oh, do be quiet,” she chastised him, then reached out and touched the mirror. Waves circled out as it would on a pond after a rock had been tossed in. She flinched at the soft texture not expecting it. “Did you see that?”

  “I don’t think you should do that again,” Christian answered, his voice taut.

  The waves cleared and an image formed in the mirror, it no longer showed their reflection. Instead it showed…their future. Scarlett hadn’t expected that. An older version of them were in this very library in a passionate embrace. His hair was a little lighter, almost sun kissed, and hers…was a darker shade of red. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and it did funny things to her insides. Sensations spread over her and she nearly groaned. Scarlett could almost feel what her future self did.

  “That…” His voice was hoarse as he spoke. “That can’t be true.”

  “No?” She turned to him and lifted a brow. “Do you find me that disgusting then?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he replied defensive. He glanced down to their clasped hands and yanked his free. “It’s…not that at all. The mirror must be bamming us.”

  “To what end?” She was disgusted with him. Scarlett wanted to jab him a few times and curse at him, but held back. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as she did. “Are you suggesting the mirror is sentient?” She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Scarlett turned away from him and started to leave the room, but stopped when he called back to her. “You can see the future, can you not? Do you honestly think that will happen?”

  She kept her back straight and didn’t turn to meet his gaze. His unworthiness was growing by leaps and bounds. Scarlett didn’t speak about her gifts. How could he possibly know? “My future has nothing to do with you.” After she spoke she continued out of the room. She didn’t explain that she couldn’t see her own future and had no way of ascertaining if the vision in the mirror was true or not, but she hoped it was as he said…a trick of some sort. She hated to think that she would desire him, and allow him to kiss her in that fashion.

  Deep inside, though, she believed it to be true. Even when she wanted to deny it to her last breath. Scarlett wanted him, had always been drawn to him, but kept telling herself he wasn’t for her. She would repeat that mantra until one day she actually believed it…

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  Excerpt: Smitten with My Christmas Minx

  Linked Across Time Book 15

  Dawn Brower

  Prologue

  December 1865

  Lady Adeline Carwyn stared out the window of the library at Whitewood Abbey. Snow fell from the sky in big fluffy flakes and landed on the ground in soft piles. Flurries filled the night sky making the stars almost indistinguishable against the blinding white snowflakes. Still she stared, hoping a wishing star might make an appearance.

  Because…she needed one.

  She was tired of being unloved. All right, that was a slight over-dramatization. Her family adored her. Her parents were the best a girl could have, and her grandparents were doting. Her little brother, as annoying as he was, loved her too. But that wasn’t the same as being in love. She was one and twenty and had yet to feel anything resembling romantic love for a man. Adeline wanted what her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Whitewood, had. Perhaps that was too much to ask.

  “What is so interesting outside?” her little brother, Jamie asked. He was named after their grandfather, James Kendall, the Duke of Weston. He was eight years her junior, and from what she understood, a complete surprise to both her parents. They thought they wouldn’t have any more children.

  “Nothing,” she answered lightly. He was three and ten and had the curiosity of any young boy. “The storm seems to be going strong. I hope it doesn’t prevent anyone from visiting for Christmas.” They were having a house party that would last until the new year. Two weeks with family and friends they hadn’t seen in a while. She was looking forward to seeing her younger cousin, Francesca Kendall. Jamie would be excited to see their other cousins, Spencer Kendall and Oliver Rossington. Both boys were younger than Adeline, but older than James, and like her little brother, the heirs to the title their fathers’ held. Francesca was three years younger than Adeline.

  “It better not,” he said mulishly. “Mother promised we’d have a grand time with everyone and even promised I could come to the Christmas ball.”

  “Really?” she said as she lifted a brow. “The entire night?”

  “No,” he said and sighed. “I can only stay until we decorate the tree and after the first dance is completed.”

  They usually decorated the tree as a family, but this year her mother, Elizabeth, had decided to break with tradition. They would have a day of creating decorations for the tree, and then the night of the ball everyone would put their creations on it before the festivities began. “That sounds more like what mother would agree to.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t care to stay for dancing anyway. That’s something girls like.”

  “Oh,” she began. “I don’t know about that. You might feel differently when you’re older. Some gentlemen enjoy dancing very much.” And some avoided it altogether…

  “Not me,” he replied stubbornly. “I’ll never like it.”

  Adeline leaned down and ruffled his hair with her hands. They both had the same golden blond locks and blue eyes like their parents. Jamie was starting to look a lot like a younger version of their father, and Adeline favored her mother. No one would look at either of them and doubt who their parents were.
“I believe you.” Their father didn’t care for dancing much either. He only gave in when their mother wished it. The duke would do anything for his duchess. Their love shined from them both, and it made Adeline envious. She glanced back out the window, but no star dared to shoot across the sky. Perhaps she should make a wish anyway. It might still come true.

  “Have fun staring out the window,” Jamie said. “I’m going to do something productive.”

  “Such as?” she asked with curiosity.

  “I’m whittling a few pieces of wood for gifts. I have to finish the horse I’m making for grandpa.” That was a brilliant idea. Adeline wished she had a similar skill so she could make something creative as a gift. Jamie was very talented, and it was part of his special abilities. He was tactile and got impressions from items after people touched them. Adeline, unfortunately, in her estimation was an empath. She felt too much and sometimes when she was around individuals their emotions became hers. It made socializing difficult and also falling in love. It made her mistrust her own feelings.

  “I can’t wait to see them.” She lifted her lips into an affable smile. “Go finish your gifts. I’m going to sit here a little while longer.”

  “I’ll show you when I’m done,” he promised, then skipped out of the room.

  Adeline turned back to the window. The snow had lightened and wasn’t blowing around as much. The sky was more visible, and the stars seemed to blink at her. She sighed. What did that mean? She decided not to question it any longer. There was no reason to keep waiting for a shooting star. It was an impossible expectation, and it didn’t mean her wish would come true.

  Instead of hoping for the impossible, she closed her eyes and sent her hopes and dreams out into the world. She wanted love, even if it only existed for one night alone, it would be enough, she promised.

  It wasn’t too much to ask, at least she prayed it wouldn’t be. A handsome man who saw her, and not her father’s title and fortune. Someone that would kiss her until she lost the ability to breathe, touch her as if she were irresistible, and speak sweet words to her until her heart pounded inside her chest. A moment of love and a lifetime of memories. It would be enough. God, she hoped it would be…

  Adeline opened her eyes and stared up at the sky. Nothing had changed outside, and she didn’t feel any different inside. Maybe her wish had been for nothing, but she didn’t think so. Guests should start arriving tomorrow, and perhaps, if her wish had been heard, it would include someone for her to love.

  And maybe his love would be real, and not generated by a wish from a fanciful lady desperate for something tangible.

  Chapter 1

  Two days later…

  Devon Hayes, the Earl of Winchester, stared out the carriage window and sighed. He couldn’t believe his best friend, Zachariah Barton, the Marquess of Merrifield, had convinced him that attending this Christmas ball was a good idea. He hated house parties, and Christmas had never been much of a joyous occasion to him. The only time he ever enjoyed the holiday season was when he had been fortunate enough to spend it with Zachariah’s family when they were still attending Eton.

  “I promise it will not be that bad,” Merrifield said for the hundredth time in the past several hours. “Try to at least pretend you’re willing to enjoy yourself. There will be other individuals there that you’re acquainted with.”

  Devon turned to him and lifted a brow. “And who pray tell might that be?”

  “Goodland and Lindsey for sure,” Merrifield replied. “Maybe Hampstead. He never decides until the last second, but his sister is supposed to attend and she’ll need a chaperone. I’m willing to wager his mother will make him attend.”

  Jonah Adams, the Viscount of Goodland; Matthew Grant, the Duke of Lindsey; and Daniel Andrews, the Earl of Hampstead were their close friends, but that still didn’t mean Devon was remotely excited to be attending this fortnight of frippery cheerful nonsense. It was enough to make his stomach turn. “You’re telling me what you think I want to hear.” He glared at his friend. “None of them are going to attend, are they?”

  “They might,” Merrifield insisted.

  All three of their other friends would most likely be returning home to celebrate with their families. They still had parents that doted on them. It was just Devon and Merrifield that were orphans. Merrifield at least still had his mother, but he avoided her at all costs. They didn’t mix well with all the old dame’s frosty glares she shot his way.

  Devon had been on his own since he was five years old. His governess had raised him and then sent off to school when he’d come of age. After that he dealt with solicitors for guardians and servants as companions. While Merrifield’s mother delivered cold dressing downs without batting an eyelash, Devon had no one to bother even being disapproving. His life was barren except for his friends, and he liked it that way. He had no desire to expand his social circle or search for a wife. There was only one place in his life for a woman, in his bed pleasing him, and he didn’t need to shackle himself to one for the rest of his life for that.

  “That’s what I thought.” Devon ran his hand through his dark brown hair. “You lied to me.”

  “I did not,” Merrifield said. He almost sounded offended for Devon calling him on his malarkey. “They might and that’s the truth. They told me they would come later, after their family celebrations.”

  “So,” Devon began. “Their attendance might be for a day or two and we’ll be stuck here for fourteen. That’s hardly a fair arrangement.” If he didn’t like Merrifield, Devon might consider murder…or a maiming at least. Either way, he’d make his friend pay for the torture he was forcing Devon to endure.

  “I still think you’re acting like a spoiled child,” Merrifield told him. Frustration was etched through his voice. “I had to come to this you know that. Would you really have left me to suffer alone?”

  Devon sighed. Again. He might keep repeating that annoyed release several times over the next several days. Merrifield was right. He would not have left him to attend the house party on his own. His friend did not have control of his purse as yet. He wouldn’t until he reached his majority in three more years, or he married. The man in charge of Merrifield’s funds was making him attend the festivities. Merrifield had to make an appearance twice a year so the Duke of Whitewood could have a chat with him and ensure he had done nothing stupid, then he’d approve his allowance for the next quarter, and Merrifield hated every second of it.

  “You could marry and be done with Whitewood and his constant interrogation,” Devon goaded him.

  “You’re really in a surly mood, aren’t you?” Merrifield kicked him in the shin from across the carriage. “What are you going to suggest next?” He lifted a brow. “That I marry the duke’s daughter?”

  “Is she a marriageable age?” He might regret the direction the conversation had taken, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. “He might look at you more kindly if his daughter falls in love with you.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” Merrifield said in disgust. “I’d rather eat mud pies for the next several months than…” He shuddered. “Marry his plain daughter.”

  Devon had never met the duke’s daughter. He didn’t even know her name and didn’t want to find out either. Becoming acquainted with any eligible female was not even at the bottom of his list of endeavors. It didn’t rate an addition to begin with. “Plain isn’t ugly,” he said. Merrifield might punch him next…

  “It isn’t exactly beautiful either.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “The point is moot either way. She could be the loveliest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I still wouldn’t marry her. You do not understand what the duke is like. He’s a bloody pirate out of time. I’d swear he would love to take me out to sea and make me walk the plank if that was still acceptable.”

  “Now you’re exaggerating. No one would do that, and a duke wouldn’t resort to piracy to begin with. I don’t believe he’s as bad as you’re making him out
to be.”

  “All right maybe he isn’t a pirate but he’d make a good one. He has all the characteristics. I don’t know how my father ever became friends with him and thought he’d make a suitable guardian for me. He’s insane I tell you.”

  “I will reserve judgement,” Devon said. The more he heard about this pirate like duke, the more he wanted to meet him. He really didn’t believe he could be as horrid as Merrifield believed.

  Adeline had worn her oldest gown and borrowed an apron from one of the maids to hang decorations in the library. It was her favorite room in the manor, and she wanted to give it her personal touches. She stepped off the ladder after she finished hanging boughs of holly along the beams on the ceiling. Adeline wiped sweat from her brow and stared up at her work. It looked even and gorgeous against the dark wood. The holly was evenly dispersed. Now all she had to do was hang the mistletoe in the center of the room. Her mother had this silly notion that they needed lots of mistletoe throughout the entire house. Did she really believe everyone would give in to the urge to kiss because of the tradition? That would be scandalous, and Adeline would not find herself caught in anything that might lead to her ruin. But her mother wanted them, and Adeline wouldn’t disappoint her.

  “It looks lovely,” her mother, Elizabeth, the Duchess of Whitewood said. “You’re a miracle worker. I might have you supervise the ballroom decorations for the dance when its time.”

  “If you would like me to, then yes, I’d be happy to assist.” Adeline lifted her lips into a congenial smile. “I enjoy being creative.”

  Her mother wiped her nose. “You have a little dust gathering on your face. You should finish up in her and take a bath. I wouldn’t want you looking like a servant at dinner.”

 

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