Once Upon a Devilishly Enchanting Kiss: #1 The Whickertons in Love

by Wolf, Bree

  “William,” Claudia gasped as his face took form before her inner eye. “We danced. We laughed. We−” Again, a gasp tore from her throat, and one hand fell from her temple covering her mouth in shock. “We ran off.”

  Trying to swallow the lump in her throat, Claudia once more glanced about the room as though William might have been hiding somewhere in plain sight all along. But he was not. She was alone.

  Careful not to move too much, Claudia inhaled a few deep breaths, allowing her mind to wander back to the night before. Slowly, images returned of her taking William’s hand and following him outside into the dark night. She remembered him helping her into his carriage, the way he had held her in his arms as the horses had pulled them toward their destination, his assurances that all would be well.

  “We eloped,” Claudia mumbled, her eyes drifting around the room. “This is…this is an inn…in Gretna Green. It must be.” The breath caught in her throat, and she slowly turned her head to the left, her eyes focusing on the other side of the bed.

  It was empty, and yet, someone had lain there. There was an unmistakable indentation, and…a warmth lingered that sent a shiver down her back. “What have I done?” Slowly, she pulled back the thin blanket and her heart slammed to a momentary halt.

  In the bright morning sun, a few droplets of blood shone on the white linen like rubies.

  The air rushed from Claudia’s lungs, and the nausea in her stomach sent her flying from the bed. Her body tensed, revolted, and she sank to her knees, one arm reaching for the chamber pot. Then her insides contracted expelling last night’s dinner−and drink! −into the small bowl.

  When it was over, she sank down, head resting against the side of the bed, her mind momentarily focused on drawing fresh air into her body. Her hand pushed the chamber pot away as the stench of its contents threatened to overwhelm her delicate hold on her body once more.

  In her weakened state, Claudia felt numb and strangely detached. Her mind moved slowly as though it did not have the strength to provide her with what she sought: answers.

  Still, despite an almost desperate desire to curl up into a ball and hide in a corner, Claudia knew that she could not pretend this had not happened − whatever this was!

  Had she married William? Had they arrived in Gretna Green, sought out an anvil priest and−?

  Claudia froze as an image drifted to the front of her mind, an image of William hanging his head in defeat, his eyes downcast and apologetic…as he had stepped away from her…and followed his elder brother, Viscount Crowemore, to their waiting carriage.

  Again, panic welled up as her memories cleared.

  Yes, they had come to Gretna Green, but they had not gotten married. William’s brother had found them first, ending their adventure by ordering his brother to return with him.

  And William had complied.

  He had bowed his head.

  He had left her.

  Shocked beyond words, Claudia stared across the room at the plain wall, reliving the moment disillusionment had set in. She remembered her feeling of betrayal when William had abandoned her, complying with his family’s wishes and a long-standing contract. He was to marry a duke’s daughter.

  Not her.

  Despite his promises, he had abandoned her.

  Left her behind in Gretna Green.

  Alone.

  A distant part of Claudia’s mind tried to remind her that she had refused to accompany them back to England, cursing and yelling at the top of her voice. However, that part was soon shushed by the sense of betrayal and disappointment that washed over her.

  Closing her eyes, Claudia wept for a dream ruined, for a life that was not to be, for the harshness of the world. Still, her emotional turmoil only managed to keep her mind silenced for a short while. Before long, it piped up once more, asking questions Claudia now feared to know the answer to.

  If William had indeed returned to England with his brother, then who had slept beside her? Who had spent the night in her room? In her bed? Who had she been intimate with? A complete stranger?

  It had to be, for what other answer could there be?

  Gritting her teeth, Claudia pushed to her feet, doing her best to ignore the throbbing pain behind her temples as well as the slight swaying of the room. She glimpsed her clothes hanging over the back of a chair and slowly hobbled toward them.

  Dressing proved to be quite a challenge in her state, and yet, it provided a momentary relief from the panic that threatened to consume her. Once that was taken care of though, her thoughts immediately refocused on that which she did not know.

  And panic returned.

  “No!” Claudia snapped, forcing herself not to succumb to this line of thinking for it would lead her nowhere.

  What was to be done? Now that was a productive question. A question that needed an answer. Here and now.

  “I need to get home,” Claudia said, feeling her mind clearing as she spoke. “I need to get back.” For no matter how angry her brother would be once he learnt what she had done, he would never turn from her. He could be a cold-hearted and unfeeling bastard, but he would not forget his obligation to her, his duty to see to his family.

  Of that she was certain.

  How to get home, on the other hand, was a different matter. After all, they had come here in William’s carriage, and as far as Claudia was aware, she did not have any money on her.

  A frown drew down her brows, sending fresh pain through her head. How had she paid for the room? Or had−?

  Loud footsteps echoed up the stairs outside her chamber, and Claudia froze. Her eyes were fixed on the door, and her mind was reeling with the thought that she was about to come face to face with whomever she had shared her bed with last night. Would she remember him? Or would he still be a stranger?

  The echo grew louder as the man stormed down the corridor…and stopped outside her door.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Claudia braced herself for what was to come when the door finally swung open…and her brother stormed in.

  Seeing his face, Claudia almost sank to the floor as the air rushed from her lungs. Utter relief filled her, but only at first for the dark look on her brother’s face would have sent anyone running for the hills.

  For a long moment, they merely looked at one another, speechless. Claudia could see the tension holding him rigid, the way his chest rose and fell as he tried his best to contain his anger, his outrage…his disappointment.

  Her brother was not prone to losing his temper−never had been−but the quiet darkness that rested in his eyes sent chills down her back.

  “What have you done?” he finally asked, his voice low and menacing as his silver eyes took in the room, the bed, her dishevelled state, the implications that hung in the air. “What were you thinking?”

  Claudia felt her chin begin to quiver and tears sting the back of her eyes, and yet, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Raising her chin, she met his eyes. “It was my choice, not yours. You have no right−”

  “That it was,” he interrupted, raking a hand through his hair. In two large strides, he was in front of her, his hands gripping her by the upper arms. “This is without a doubt the most foolish thing you’ve ever done, and whether you like it or not, this time you’ll have to pay for it.”

  Claudia gritted her teeth against the pain thudding behind her temples. “What did you expect when you all but locked me away? I am not free to do anything I want. I−”

  “Don’t blame me for your mistakes!” he hissed before he stepped back and held the door open for her. “We shall discuss everything further at home.”

  “If you insist,” Claudia snapped, relieved to at least have an answer delivered to her with regard to how she was to get home. Glaring at her brother, she stomped past him, along the corridor and down the stairs, all the while berating him, doing her best to ignore the pounding in her head.

  “Be quiet!” he hissed once they’d reached the taproom. His eyes too
k in the many travellers coming and going before he took her by the arm and all but dragged her outside.

  Despite digging in her heels, Claudia had no hope of delaying him. “You’re the most awful brother in all of England,” she retorted, wondering why on earth she was blaming him. And yet, she could not stop. She was not yet ready to face the mess she had made, and at present, he was the only one she could blame.

  It was a distraction−nothing more−and one day she would have to face reality.

  But tomorrow was soon enough.

  Never would she have expected for the one adventure she had ever dared to embark upon to end in this way.

  Never.

  Chapter One - A Highlander in London

  London, January 1809 (or a variation thereof)

  Six months later

  Garrett MacDrummond of Clan MacDrummond, who rarely travelled far from his home in the Scottish Highlands, stood in a corner of a London ballroom. His eyes swept over the throng of people dancing, chatting, laughing−enjoying themselves. If only he could join them, he thought with a snort.

  “Anything?” Lord Tynham asked beside him, his kind brown eyes turning to look at Garrett. An Englishman himself, Lord Tynham had familial ties to Clan MacDrummond and had graciously invited Garrett to be his guest for the duration of his search.

  Garrett shook his head. “I dunno understand this,” he said, unable to look away. “From what people say she’s always here at the beginning of the Season.”

  “Perhaps they were delayed,” Lord Tynham suggested, and yet, the look in his eyes told Garrett that he doubted his own words.

  From what Garrett had been able to gather since his arrival in town, his wife was a well-known member of English society. There were few who did not know her or know of her, and he had been able to learn a great deal about her love for dancing and mingling, her desire for adventure and unconventionality. Indeed, what he had learnt through discreet and well-placed questions had only confirmed Garrett’s own impression of the wayward Lass he had stumbled upon one night almost six months ago in Gretna Green.

  “Perhaps you should seek out her brother,” Lord Tynham suggested, “and ask about her.”

  Garrett sighed, “But he isna here either, is he?”

  “That, however, is nothing unusual,” Lord Tynham stated. “The man is known for his reticent nature. He and his sister are like night and day. As much as she longs for company, he seems to prefer to keep to his own.”

  Garrett nodded, his gaze still searching.

  “Have you considered making the journey to Farnworth Manor?” Lord Tynham suggested next. “Perhaps the family has decided to skip town this season as they prefer to stay in the country.”

  Garrett snorted, “I doubt she would’ve agreed to such a plan,” he said. “In any case, I did stop there before coming to London, but I was told the family wasna home.”

  Lord Tynham frowned. “Over the holidays? That is quite unusual.”

  Garrett nodded. It had struck him as odd as well. Still, short of breaking into the house and searching the premises for his wife, there had been very little he could have done. Instead, he had gone to London hoping to meet her here once the season began.

  Now, that notion seemed to be a futile hope.

  All he had found in London were whispers.

  Rumours circulated about her eloping to Gretna Green with a man named William Montgomery, second son to the Earl of Mowbrey. Still, unlike Garrett’s wife, Mr. Montgomery had not failed to attend the first ball of the season−nor the ones following−and he had been decidedly unattached.

  In fact, another rumour whispered of his upcoming nuptials to a duke’s daughter. Nothing was certain as of yet. However, that was how people preferred it as it gave them the opportunity to create their own versions of the truth.

  When Garrett had first heard the rumour about his wife and Mr. Montgomery, he had been overcome with red-hot jealously, imagining his wife in that man’s arms. However, as time had passed, it had become clear that the whispers that saw them as young lovebirds were made of nothing but stale air.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett allowed his gaze to momentarily follow Mr. Montgomery as the man swept across the dance floor with a blond-haired beauty in his arms. His fiancée? Garrett did not know, but he knew that tongues were wagging without doubt.

  Still, if his wife had been with Mr. Montgomery, at least that would have presented an explanation with regard to her whereabouts. At present, it seemed as though she had dropped off the face of the earth. What had happened?

  Garrett was at a loss.

  The following morning when he had returned to their room at the inn, his wife had been gone. No note. No explanation. Nothing. Only the innkeeper had informed him upon questioning that a young man−presumably English−had come to take her away. Apparently, she had yelled at him quite a bit, calling him the most awful brother in all of England.

  Although disappointed, Garrett had been relieved to know that she was with her family and, therefore, safe. As much as he had wanted to follow her right away, his duty to his clan had prevented him from doing so.

  So, reluctantly, he and the two clansmen who had accompanied him had returned to their laird, bringing with them the runaway couple they had been after. The lass had been a MacDrummond while the lad had been from a neighbouring clan. While that alone would have been far from an easy situation, the fact that the lass had been promised to another had complicated matters further.

  As he was well acquainted with the promised lad’s family, there had been no way for Garrett to delay returning home. The ensuing talks had taken weeks before all had been resolved, and the two lovebirds had been allowed to wed. For them, everything had ended well.

  Garrett sighed as he continued to search the crowd, always hoping that the next face he’d see would be hers. Would he ever find her? How hard could it be to find an English lass? And one as spirited and striking as his wife?

  A part of him could not help but worry that she had changed her mind. That she had come to regret their hasty decision. That she did not care for him after all. And yet, Garrett could not pretend that nothing had happened. If she wished to be rid of him, she would have to tell him so to his face.

  In all his life, Garrett had never done anything so rash, but she had caught him off guard and swept him off his feet. There had been something about her that had touched his soul and stirred his blood. Even after all these months apart, he still longed for her, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that even though they barely knew each other, she was the one for him.

  Setting his jaw, Garrett vowed that he would find her no matter what or how long it would take. He would find her, and then he would never let her go again.

  Chapter Two - A Moment in Time

  Three months later

  Crestwood House was utterly silent, except for the tormented grunts and cries from the labouring woman in the large bed.

  “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” her mother whispered soothingly as she brushed a wet cloth over Claudia’s forehead. “Everything shall be all right. Do not worry.”

  Sinking back into the pillows, Claudia closed her eyes, desperate to rest at least for a short moment before the next contraction would grip her body and turn it inside out once more. Her breath came in short pants and sweat ran down her temple before her mother could wipe it away.

  Again, silence fell over the house−if only for a fleeting moment−and Claudia felt reminded of the past three months she had spent in this tomb far away from everything she held dear.

  Far out in the country, Crestwood House was a small manor house with nothing around it as far as the eye could see. There were no small villages or even an occasional neighbour. Nothing.

  Only silence.

  In order to keep her condition a secret, her brother had insisted she−and her mother−retreat to this place in the middle of nowhere until the child was born. Therefore, the staff had been reduced to an utter minimum, leaving the
m with only a trusted maid, a cook and someone to tend to the general upkeep of the house. They worked like ghosts, never quite there, doing their chores without being seen.

  The silence had nearly driven Claudia mad.

  For months, she had wandered the halls, the grounds, any place her feet would carry her with a heavy heart. Certainly, her mother had been there, constantly trying to cheer her up, to distract her, to keep her mind focused on all kinds of trivial things. Still, all her efforts had not been able to lift the fear and dread from Claudia’s heart.

  While her rational mind had concluded that there was no way she could keep her child, her heart refused to abandon hope so easily. Again, and again, Claudia whispered to herself in the dark of night that she was doing the right thing. That her child would grow up in a loving family, safe and sound. It would want for nothing. Her brother had promised to make sure of that, and he never broke his word.

  And yet, the ache never left her.

  In her dreams, Claudia often saw her son’s smiling face as she rocked him in her arms until his eyes closed and he fell asleep. She could smell his hair and feel the soft smoothness of his skin. She saw the brilliant blue of his eyes and felt the quiet strength in the way he held on to her finger. These dreams brought her peace, at least for a short while; for upon waking, all the pain and dread would return, threatening to crush her.

  Then she would curl into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her rounded belly, and weep into her pillows until the sun rose the next day.

  Once a month, her brother and his new wife, Evelyn, would come to visit, which was a welcome diversion from the dreariness of everyday life. Evelyn was a strong and competent woman, a doctor in her own right, who had come to Farnworth Manor to see to Claudia when she had collapsed after an argument with her brother.

  Claudia liked to think that if she had not made the mistake of following William to Scotland, if she had not stayed behind and slept with a stranger, if she had not gotten with child, then Evelyn would not have come to Farnworth Manor…and her brother would have missed out on the love of his life. Sometimes fate worked in unusual ways, and sometimes Claudia wondered why everything had happened the way it had. What would come of it? It had led to something wonderful for her brother while at the same time guiding her down a path full of heartbreak. Was this it?