Henry had stopped in the small village to await a carriage to London. Charlotte found him drinking from a bottle of whiskey while sitting on a fallen log. He looked up in surprise as Charlotte jumped from her horse. She ran into his arms and plead her case. “I could not marry Edward. I realized that the marriage would be unfair to him. I love only you. My father would have understood. He loved my mother above all else. He would want the same for his children. My mother and I can help my uncle with the estate so that my brother can attend the university. I am willing to do anything if you will come back and marry me.”
Henry swung her around, kissed her pink lips, and answered, “I was about to turn back and stop the wedding. Of course, I wish to marry you. You need not worry about the estate. I am done with the Navy. I want a home and family with you. I want to watch our children swing from the tree and splash in the stream. I need to kiss your sweet lips each morning and sleep at your side every night. “He sealed the words with a kiss.
Upon their arrival to the estate, Charlotte and Henry discovered that the guests were still there and enjoying the wedding feast. Henry pulled Uncle Charles aside and asked him to gather the guests for an alternate marriage. Everyone complied, though they did not understand what was happening. Edward stood beside a blushing Ira as Charlotte again walked down the aisle. She still wore her riding habit and Henry his traveling clothes, but the shining faces made up for the lack of finery. They spoke their vows loud and clear, without hesitation. A cheer from the guests accompanied their kiss. Even Edward cheered. He appeared content to spend time with Ira’s adoration.
Charlotte and Henry asked for Emma and Uncle Charles to accompany them to an empty room for a talk. Charlotte apologized, “I am so sorry to have gone against your wishes. I just wanted the kind of love mother and father shared, rather than an empty marriage of convenience. Please forgive my selfishness.”
Henry also spoke, “I did not mean to interfere with your plans, but my love for Charlotte proved too strong to deny. I promise to do everything that you expected of Edward. Sir Greenwood’s wishes shall be fulfilled.”
Emma and Uncle Charles opened their arms and hugged them both. Emma declared, “You made the correct choice. A marriage is meant to last until death and it should be filled with love and happiness. Your father would be proud of your choice and the strength and good sense you have shown. There is nothing to forgive.”
Ira was waiting outside to speak with Charlotte. She timidly told her, “I think I am falling in love with Edward. He has shown a small interest in me too. I will not pursue him if you would feel betrayed. Your friendship is important to me.”
Charlotte hugged her sweet friend and answered, “My greatest wish is for you and Edward to find the kind of happiness that Henry and I have discovered. Please feel free to pursue it. You are the perfect match.”
My Cousin’s Husband
~Bonus Story~
A Forbidden Arranged Marriage Historical Erotica
Catalina
There had never been a doubt in Catalina’s mind—she would marry for love or not marry at all. Until she found herself trapped in a betrothal to the heavy-handed blackguard of her uncle’s choosing. Her miserable fate had been sealed. And then Brandon walked through the manor’s front door after being gone for two, long years. How was she to accept her fate now?
Brandon
Brandon had pined for the affection of the lovely Catalina all through his youth, and it was just his luck he would not know it had been his for the taking until he was set to marry Alice—Catalina’s young cousin. Would a few stolen kisses be enough to satisfy his need for her, or would they only serve to fuel the flames of an unquenchable fire that threatened to scorch him from the inside out?
* * *
Chapter 1
The warm, summer wind whooshed past Catalina’s face and pulled her hair loose from the knot at the nape of her neck. If she closed her eyes she could imagine she was flying. There was nothing more exhilarating in her life than the hours she spent on Zinnia’s back. The two of them had become good friends over the years. It was as if the jet-black Arabian horse had come to recognize when Catalina needed more than a relaxing canter across the countryside, and she’d gallop at near break-neck pace just to please her rider. It was one of those days; one of the days when she wished she could climb up on Zinnia’s back and ride away from everything and everyone she knew. But she could not. Even if she was so brave, she could never leave her sister behind with Uncle Thomas. Evelyn, five years her junior, was away at school for now, but soon she would return, and she was far too tender-hearted for that fate.
Breathing a heavy sigh, she pulled on Zinnia’s reins and brought her to a halt. She looked out at the hills and valleys to one side of her, and the forests to the other, and fought the urge to close her eyes and let Zinnia choose their direction. Instead, she turned the horse about.
“All right, Zinnia. Let’s go back,” she spoke to the horse, stroking her head for one last moment before the horse took her back to the manor.
Uncle Thomas was waiting for her there, no doubt already pacing angrily over her tardiness. But she was in no hurry. The moment he’d offhandedly mentioned at breakfast that he wished to speak with her later that morning, she knew the day would not be a good one. She could feel it in her bones. Uncle Thomas wanted as little to do with Catalina as possible—it had been that way from her first day in his home eight years ago. So when he requested her presence, nothing good was expected to come of it.
There was only one reason for it. Uncle Thomas had no doubt found another young suitor to thrust upon her. She’d already turned down at least a dozen of them, but he seemed relentless in his pursuit to marry her off. Little did he know, he would not succeed no matter how persistent he was. She had no intention of marrying some young fop who knew nothing about her and who possessed no desire to know anything more than the slimness of her frame and the size of her family’s fortune.
She reached the stable then and cleared her mind of the whole ordeal as Douglas, the stable hand, helped her dismount and took Zinnia’s reins. “Give her a good rub down, Douglas. She’s certainly earned it this morning.”
“Aye, Lady Catalina, I will. The poor girl is always in need of a good rub down after ye’ve been out with her,” the man teased, at ease with her after all the years she’d crept out to the stable before dawn to sneak off for a morning ride.
“Thank you, Douglas,” she smiled as she stroked Zinnia’s silky mane once more before striding across the lawn to the manor. If she put off her uncle any longer, he’d certainly find a way to punish her for the misdeed.
But once she stood there outside his study, she hesitated, feeling the same coldness in her bones she’d felt earlier that morning. Her uncle was definitely up to no good this time. But she mustered up the strength, raised her hand and knocked. The door flew open seconds later.
“Where on earth have you been?” Uncle Thomas exclaimed. The way his hands were curled in fists and his knuckles white with the force of his grip made her take a step back, and then another, though she cursed her own weakness even while she moved.
His hands remained at his sides though, and she breathed a small sigh of relief, stepping forward and waiting for him to move out of the way and allow her to enter. He did so after a moment, but he paced back and forth before settling behind his desk.
“Sit, Catalina,” he told her after another moment, no doubt deliberately letting her anxiety build.
She hurried across the room, once again wishing he hadn’t made her such a coward. It seemed far easier to defy Uncle Thomas when she was miles away from the manor. In front of him now, she couldn’t help but recall the countless times he’d punished her for her defiance.
She sat down in the chair across from the desk, folding her hands in her lap and watching her fingers tremble gently. She didn’t dare speak up with him in such a foul disposition.
He cleared his throat and she nearly jumped out of her s
eat. “I have come to a decision, Catalina, and I will brook no refusal on the matter.”
He paused, but she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t waiting for an answer. He was letting her squirm.
“I have given you plenty of opportunity to accept a suitor, though in truth, I have no idea why so many young men have had a mind to pursue you. Such a stubborn and willful child you are, hardly fit to be a wife.”
It wouldn’t be Uncle Thomas unless he found a way to slip in some snide insult.
“Nevertheless, I have been patient, and I will be so no longer. The choice is no longer yours. Lord Grafton, Earl of Southampton will be joining us for dinner this evening, after which he will make an offer of marriage and you will accept.”
Lord Grafton? “The man is more than twice my age!” she raged rashly, but how could she not?
“I would not care if he was five times your age. You will accept his proposal tonight and be grateful that any man would be willing to take you off my hands.”
“I will not!” she railed, rising to her feet in her agitation, but she realized her mistake too late. He was on his feet in a flash, and the sting of his hand against her cheek reined in her ire quickly.
“Sit…down…now,” he seethed, his voice deceptively quiet, and she complied. “I have tolerated you in my house for too many years. You have rejected every suitor, as if it is my honor to feed and clothe you indefinitely. Lord Grafton is a seemly match, one that will serve to further my political interests substantially, and you will seal that alliance tonight with your betrothal. Very soon, you will be his to feed and clothe, and perhaps his discipline might teach you something about proper respect.”
“No, I will not marry Lord Grafton,” she replied, not caring how much it raised Uncle Thomas’s ire. He could not force her to marry this man. Nothing he could say or do would compel her to do his bidding.
“You will marry him, or I will personally draw up the betrothal agreement between the man and Evelyn. You can marry him before the Season is through, or else your sister will stand in your stead.”
All the breath whooshed out of her lungs as if she’d been struck in the chest. He would force her sister to marry Lord Grafton if she refused? Evelyn was barely sixteen years old.
But her uncle was evil to the core. The threat he issued was not an idle one. If she did not do what he demanded of her, he would make her sister pay for her defiance.
“How can you be so heartless?” she whispered, knowing she’d been bested. Her uncle’s mind was made up, and therefore, her future had been decided, too.
“Live in a household full of simpering fools long enough, my dear, and you’ll find yourself capable of so much more in the pursuit of self-preservation,” he spoke deprecatingly, looking down his nose at her. “You’re dismissed. Go get yourself ready for this evening. And Catalina…” he called as she stood and started toward the door.
She paused, but the tears brimming in her eyes forbid her from turning around. She would not let him see her cry.
“I expect that you’ll be on your best behavior this evening or you’ll receive a sound lashing before the night is through. Do you understand me?”
She nodded and left the room, silently cursing the man who made her blood boil and turned her spine to jelly at the same time. But she couldn’t stand up to him and sacrifixce Evelyn’s happiness to preserve her own.
She started down the hall, blindly following it to the staircase that led up to her room. But as she stepped past the grand entrance, the door swung open. The blinding light of the late morning sun obscured her vision for a brief moment, but then she saw him.
Brandon.
He was broader-chested than she remembered him, and the stubble on his jaw looked out of place. It altered the crisp image that had remained in her mind these past two years, but surprisingly, it did nothing to detract from his handsome visage.
“Why, my beloved Lina. Were you so anxious for my return that you stood there waiting for me? I hope you have not been standing there these past two years,” he teased, the same easy smile she remembered playing on his full lips. There was a tiny scar just above the left now that hadn’t been there before. Where had that come from? And how was it that tiny imperfection only seemed to add to his appeal?
“Of course not, dear, simple-minded Brandon. In fact, I had only just rushed here now, hoping to bar the door and keep you out,” she bantered back, pleased she’d been able to recover herself from her exchange with Uncle Thomas to reply so wittily.
“Ever the same problem then? You could not beat me on a horse then, and you cannot beat me to a door now. I do apologize. Had I known your intention, I could have moved more slowly, and let you best me—like I was known to do a time or two before, if I recall correctly.”
“You did no such thing! I beat you fair and square. You are simply no match for my Zinnia and I, and you know it.”
“I sense a challenge in your words, dear Lina. But please, I have only just returned. You must give me leave to rest, and then I would be happy to let you win in a horse race. Or would you prefer I race honestly? Why don’t you think on it while I unpack my things and you can let me know your choice?”
He was bigger now, stronger, and she could sense something else in him—a restrained power that hadn’t emerged fully in him before, but it was there now. Even so, he bantered with her just as easily, as if he hadn’t been gone a day.
He’d been her only companion and her source of comfort from her uncle—though she would never admit it. And after being gone so long he was finally home. But in no time at all, she would be gone, married to a stranger more than twice her age. No amount of witty banter could keep that knowledge at bay long, and she fought back the tears that brimmed in her eyes anew.
“Good day, Brandon,” she choked out as calmly as she could before she turned and dashed up the stairs, locking herself in her room as if doing so could lock out the fate that now awaited her.
Chapter 2
Brandon watched the sway of Lina’s hips as she hurried up the stairs. He couldn’t have forced his gaze away if his life had depended on it—not that the fixation was any different than it had been two years prior. Still, he expected the time away from her would have done something to erode some of the effect she had on him. But the moment he opened the door to find her standing there, he knew it wasn’t so. How he felt about her hadn’t changed in the slightest.
The heightened color in her cheeks and her eyes so full of emotion concerned him though. He’d hope that she was overjoyed to see him, but he knew better. Lina had never felt for him in the same way. She’d come to live with his mother and stepfather when she was thirteen years old and they’d immediately struck up a strange, comfortable camaraderie. They would tease and banter back and forth, and compete in silly, childish sports like footraces and climbing trees. A year later, they were sneaking away from the manor to race horses at dawn. He’d hoped that as she grew older, she’d come to see him as something more—as a man, not just a boy from her childhood.
But it never happened.
He laughed at himself. Not a full minute home, and he was already wrapped up in her again—the woman who would fall to no man. Would he never learn?
“Brandon!” his mother exclaimed from the top of the stairs, coming down them slowly as if she feared he might disappear. It was often she expressed so much enthusiasm, but it hadn’t always been that way. Before marriage to Thomas, she’d been a warm and witty woman, but the brutish man had squelched that part of her quickly.
“Hello Mother. I had not expected to see you about so early. Please tell me the manor has not caught fire,” he teased.
“No, of course not. Is it wrong that a mother was anxious for her son’s return?”
“I suppose not, though it sounds rather maudlin if you ask me. Certainly you had better things to do. A woman of your beauty should be out visiting the shops, making the young ladies jealous that a woman full grown could outdo them so easily.�
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“Brandon!” she laughed, a genuine smile gentling her features, reminding him of the woman she’d once been.
He opened his arms to her, and she stepped in, wrapping her own around his midsection. If only Lina had been apt to welcome him home in the same manner, but he shoved the thought away—hardly an appropriate thing to be thinking with his mother so near. It was strange though; he wasn’t any taller than when he’d left, but his size seemed to dwarf the middle-aged woman now. Lina was taller than his mother, but slimmer with gentler curves. Would he dwarf her delectable frame in the same way?
He stepped back then, but she looked up at him contentedly. “I have missed you terribly these past two years. I am glad you have returned to me.”
“As am I, mother.”
“So, you’re back,” the voice of a tyrant spoke to him from where it approached down the hall. His stepfather. The man who’d seen fit to ship him off, no doubt only to rid himself of the responsibility of caring for an unwanted son.
“Yes, it appears I am. I see your powers of observation have not failed you,” he jeered lightly.
Thomas came to a halt in front of him, “I expect that you’ve learned some manners while you were away. You’d be wise to employ them here,” he snarled, not even attempting to hide his hatred beneath a guise of civility.
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