Authors: Trisha Fuentes
Tags: #historical, #funny, #thomas, #humorous, #maritime, #dare, #gwen
Gwendolyn gazed around her and observed a
gentleman galloping near. Feeling enveloped all of a sudden, she
began walking away from his speedy approach. Descending his
stallion of camel beauty, the man strolled to the distressed woman
first; they exchanged words, his back towards Gwendolyn.
Gwendolyn overheard the couple shouting and
shook her head at the sight of the couple now arguing. She was
inconvenienced; after all, she too had every right to be there. She
would just have to introduce herself to her new neighbor;
enlightenment will soon arrive once he understood she was the new
proprietor of Gisleham.
Gwendolyn bent down and pulled a daisy
growing wild in the ground; popping back up again she was alarmed
at the sight of the gentlemen’s magnificent horse trotting over to
be by her side. The friendly animal pointed its nose in her face
and sniffed its encroachment and she reached out to pet the animal
that seemed to curl into her touch. She then peeked over the
horse’s nose to survey its owner more closely. The man was
incomparable in height and towered over his petite fiancée.
Sporting charcoal pantaloons, knee-length riding boots, striped
grey waistcoat and black coat; he was exceedingly handsome with
ebony waves surrounding his swarthy complexion. A melanistic
creature to say the least, he turned about with ease, his chest
broad and tapering to his lean waist. He accepted the lady’s hand
on his forearm then leisurely approached Gwendolyn. He appeared
self-assured and approximated with gliding steadiness. They’re a
breath-taking couple, Gwendolyn thought as they came into clearer
view, but then…as he drew closer…yet nearer, Gwendolyn’s very
breath was stolen from her lungs.
“Madame, allow me to—”
Gwendolyn stared at him too, his green eyes
rapidly looting her alertness. She tried to fathom how, when and
why! Heart thumping in her ears, the booming sound echoed down to
her throat. She grasped her neck, covered up her mouth in
skepticism. His shocking emergence began to inundate her in
deafening waves.
Oh, dear God…could it be?
CHAPTER THREE
He watched her body fall to the ground before
coming to her aid. Still in shock, he watched a group of horsemen
appear before shoving his surprise aside so that he could finally
react. One by one, each horse stopped and the rider dismounted
causing the man to finally scurry over and bend down to gather
Gwendolyn who fainted. Lifting her weight within his arms, he
turned to shout at the nearest ear in reach. “Help me get her to
the manor!”
“What happened?” Devin asked dumbfounded
watching his friend laughably circle around trying to make up his
mind which horse to place her upon.
“Here…use my horse,” Henry advised, equally
shaking his head at the indecision.
“Who is she, Katrina?” Amy asked with wide
eyes, leaning into her friend.
Katrina concentrated on her fiancé’s
agitation; she had never seen him so concerned afore. “I do not
know.”
Continuing to walk with Gwendolyn within his
arms, he scanned her body in disbelief. “This cannot be,” he said,
shaking his head. Looking down at her unconscious, he repeated,
“This just cannot be…after all these years…and—and you are
alive?”
“Are you taking her to the manor?” Devin
asked in an alarming rate. “She could be a thief!”
“Are you questioning my mandate?” The man
inquired, turning sharply around and eyeing Devin Hale, his true
friend, and solicitor for years.
Devin nodded his head yes, and then peered
into his associate’s piercing green eyes. “No.”
The man turned around afresh and proceeded up
the horse. “Good, because I am going to need your assistance, now
hold her to me.”
After aiding his friend with the expired
woman, Devin walked over to his sister’s side. Katrina pulled up on
her horse as well and he motioned for her to stay behind yanking on
her sleeve.
The man began his ascent towards Wilderbrand
when all of a sudden; Phyllis unexpectedly appeared from the
overgrown brush. “Malady—malady, what happened? What happened? Who
are you, sir? Where are you taking her?”
The horseman eyed the elder woman scuttling
towards him. “And you are?”
“Malady’s companion, Phyllis Tallymen, and
you are, sir?”
“5th Duke of Norwin, Madame; Earl of
Wilderbrand.”
“Have you seen her before Devin?”
“No, I have to say, I have never seen that
chit.”
“She concerns me, brother.”
“Why, Katrina? Your fiancée has been true to
you, I have made sure of it.”
“I know he has, it is just,” Katrina stopped
and patted down her dress, removing horsehair from the delicate
fabric. “There is an unfamiliar pang in my heart. My fiancée has
always been such a puzzle to me.” “But surely you have come to know
the man dear; you have been his sole companion for the past several
months.”
“Yes,” Katrina paused only to look ahead
towards the manor.
“There are times when he makes me feel like I
am the only woman in the world.” Looking sadly at the ground, she
confessed, “Then there are others, when I look at him from across
the room, and he has this faraway look in his eye. Like his heart
has been damaged and is afraid to love.”
“Sister dear, you will be the Duchess of
Norwin soon. I will see to it that he marries you,” Devin said
apprehensively. He knew that’s what she wanted to hear. She wanted
encouragement, a little boast of confidence and oftentimes a kick
in the derriere. His sister was always a little insecure, having
grown up with no mother, and a gambling, drunken, neglectful Baron
for a father, Devin practically raised her. Devin and his sister
grew up in Dover together with Amy and Henry Barton and there were
times when he felt such kinship with the Barton twins, it felt
natural. He had known for years that Amy was infatuated with him,
but after watching the destruction of his parents’ marriage first
hand, Devin vowed never to marry. While growing up, Katrina even
showed interest in Henry, for Henry had been smitten with Katrina
for years; his sister was a striking girl, but Katrina kept Henry
at arm’s length, on reserve until something more promising came
along. At nineteen, she should have been married by now, she had so
many prospects her first season out. She even had several proposals
but rejected every one of them. Devin always felt that she had made
the wrong decisions then, but Katrina seemed determined to live a
life of luxury, unwavering to locate her knight in shining armor.
Katrina always searched for a strong influence from the lack of
discipline in her life. He found it in abundance after graduating
from the university, but Katrina, his spoiled little sister,
latched onto any influential chap that showed considerable interest
in her. Enter, Monsieur Antoine Bruneau, a French aristocrat who
did not take no for an answer. Devin pleaded with Katrina not to
leave with him one evening, but she did it anyway just to spite.
The next morning, Devin found her crying in her bedchamber. Later
she confessed that Monsieur Bruneau had taken advantage of their
privacy and seduced her. Katrina had willingly left with him; she
was even seen at the opera with the scoundrel in a scandalous
position. He wanted the man arrested, for what, he did not know,
but the word “hypocrite” kept bellowing in his ears. Had he not
been seen around town doing the very same thing? Ruining young
innocents? But this was his one and only sister, his only sibling
and the other side of the coin. He would demand a wedding ceremony,
an honorable pledge. Devin called for the magistrate, but Monsieur
Bruneau had fled to his native country, taking Katrina’s innocence
with him. The following months were dreadful; Katrina was unhappy,
unruly and hard to reason with. She had dodged the shame of an
illegitimate child and he finally convinced her that the only way
to redeem her inexperience was to pretend that nothing ever
happened; to present herself again on the marriage mart under false
pretenses. It could work, it had to succeed. Otherwise, Lady
Katrina Hale would become repudiated; a spinster, or a married
man’s mistress and he could not have any of that. Henry came back
and his sister was happy for a while, until Katrina locked eyes
with the 5thDuke of Norwin and the debonair Earl of Wilderbrand.
Blast it all…Devin never wanted her to be involved with the likes
of him! Bad to worse, the Duke was dangerous, a lethal chap when it
came to female awareness. While Devin was known throughout London
as a rakehell bachelor, His Grace’s allure was considered
enigmatic. The Duke of Norwin never offered information about
himself willingly so he was always a mystery to others. Devin had
seen him in chase attending parties alongside him, the birds all
pecking for his aloof consideration. Devin perceived his detachment
as conceit, but—after getting to know the gentleman—he learned
later it came from caution. Even in the company of other men, the
Duke had been coveted and well liked. Devin overlooked the rumors
of His Grace’s permanent bachelorhood allowing his sister to limit
herself to him. She practically begged for the introduction to the
most sought after bachelor in all of London, and yes, he was
totally against it at first, but the Duke was the one who made the
initial contact. It was too late, their eyes met, and it was all
over.
Having been engaged to the Duke for the past
three months, Devin had continually ignored rumors of their
improper commitment, having been seen together throughout London,
without a chaperone and very close. It was what she wanted, Devin
permitted, and Katrina was finally content. Devin had never been
envious of the Duke, rather the contrary; he admired his tenacity
keeping a disintegrating merchant trading company, thriving. After
graduating from Pembroke, University of Oxford, Devin applied for a
solicitor at the Hollinger Commerce Company. Meeting His Grace for
the first time had been exhilarating, he had so many high hopes and
visions for the future; Devin wanted to be part of it. Working
together, side by side, Devin also sparked up a friendship with the
Duke he never thought obtainable. The Duke latched onto Devin’s
candidness and an alliance surged, there was even a special bond
between them, a deep sense of camaraderie and they have been
inseparable ever since. Being a gifted draftsman, Devin mentioned
Lord Henry Barton to the Duke, introducing Henry’s artwork to him
and the reverie turned tangible. The Duke hired Henry to design all
his future vessels, making the Hollinger Commerce Company a
well-established merchant trader to rival the British East India
Company. In 1784, the India Act settled divided matters between
control of governance and trade, clearing borders between the Crown
and the maritime companies. While the British East India Company
continued to expand its influence to nearby territories through
threats and coercive actions, the Hollinger Commerce Company
remained in the good graces of the Crown.
“Let us go brother, I do not know why, but I
have a terrible feeling about that girl. You know he is not allowed
to pay attention to anyone else but me!”
Devin climbed up on his horse, “You are
acting like a child again Katrina.”
“I just hate to share!”
“Selfish chit,” Devin barked back at her.
“I am not selfish,” Katrina whined, sticking
out her bottom lip.
“And for heaven’s sake, stop pouting.”
“I do not pout,” Katrina griped, whipping her
horse with a rider’s crop. The black horse let out an ear-splitting
whinny, threw his head back and kicked his legs up into the air in
defiance.
“Blast it all Katrina, how many times have I
told you not to whip that horse that way!” Devin shouted, trying to
gallop up next to her surging steed.
“Stop pestering me, brother. I can do what I
choose on this estate, it is just a bloody horse!” She yelled back,
whipping her horse again. The horse sped up, leaving Devin in a
cloud of dust behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Gwendolyn? Can you hear me? Gwendolyn?”
The Duke had been alone with her for the
moment, soaking in her existence. Outlining her chin with his
finger, he choked back emotion. God, she was…startling, he had
forgotten how bewitching she was. He delicately untied the bows to
her bonnet and was unguarded by the beauty lying before him. She
was saintly in slumber; ringlets in reddish-brown encircled her
peach-toned face. Long brunette eyelashes surrounded a haunting
stare he always missed. How many nights had he dreamt of holding
her within his arms?
The Duke took out some smelling salts from
within a jar and held it underneath her nostrils. One quick whoosh
across her nose and Gwendolyn began to stir.
By slow degrees, Gwendolyn commenced an
endless swim through a current of darkness, her nose stung from a
pungent odor and her eyes immediately popped open and focused on
the stranger sitting before her. “Where am I?” She asked, sitting
up straight and bringing her hands up over her neck. “Who are you?
What am I doing in this room?”
The Duke stood up slowly from her side and
raked his hands through his black mane, “Do you remember me?”
Gwendolyn surveyed the room, then eyed the
stranger again. A wave of confusion passed through her. She
instantly recognized her surroundings, but she did not want to know
this man. The noble standing before her was a cryptic version of a
hallucination brought to life. She gazed deep into his eyes and
felt a twinge of reality. “I—It is not possible.”