Forever Yours (The Forever Series #1)

by Cheryl Holt

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “The world won’t spin off its axis if I see your toes.”

  “It might. I’ve caused all sorts of disasters. This might be the one that ruins the Earth once and for all.”

  “You’ve caused disasters? I’m so curious about you. Tell me what some of them are.”

  “No. You tell me why you’re really here.”

  “I don’t like the guests at my party so I’m extremely bored, and I had nothing better to do.”

  “If you’ve chosen to spend the afternoon with two young girls and their governess, your boredom must have risen to astonishing heights.”

  He grabbed the basket and riffled through the contents, but he was a man who had always been waited on by others and he made a huge mess.

  “Give me that.” She jerked the basket away.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll feed you.”

  She took a plate and arranged slices of cheese, bread, and meat. Then she poured him a glass of the lemon punch the cook had prepared. He gobbled up the food as if he’d been starving, then they sat in silence, watching the waves and occasionally gazing down the beach to where the girls were snooping for treasures.

  It was an incredibly awkward interval.

  He’d now kissed her several times so she was aware of him in an unnerving way. He was very masculine, very virile, and her female senses were on full alert as if he emitted a signal only she could detect.

  She knew she should have resigned, but she couldn’t bear to, both because she felt so connected to the twins and didn’t want to abandon them, but also because she wanted to remain near him as well.

  Her fondness was exasperating, and she couldn’t figure out what had happened to her. Usually, she was so pragmatic and rational, yet suddenly she was making bad decisions right and left.

  Being so naïve about amour, she hadn’t understood how mesmerized she would grow to be. She was attached to him in a dangerous manner, and she hated to simply be his governess. She yearned to have a spot in his life she could never occupy, and the very fact that she was considering such a wild notion was terrifying.

  She shook her head, perplexed by her folly, by her burgeoning insanity.

  “What has you grinning and shaking your head?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking about you and how I must be mad to encourage you like this.”

  “You haven’t encouraged me. If I remember correctly, you’ve constantly told me to leave you alone and cease my flirting.”

  “You don’t listen though.”

  “No, I don’t. You never offer a comment worth hearing.”

  “You are much too worldly and sophisticated for me, and I can’t guess what will become of me if I keep on with you.”

  “Nothing good probably.”

  “That doesn’t calm any of my fears.”

  He flopped onto his back and rolled onto his side so he was facing her, his elbow bent, his head resting on his hand. He fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, sporadically brushing a palm across her shin or thigh, and though she’d scowl and swat him away he wouldn’t desist.

  Each caress was a torment that made her ache and crave. He’d turned her body into a teeming cauldron of abnormal, unexpected sensations she didn’t like and had no idea how to quell.

  “You’re doing an excellent job with the twins,” he said.

  “Thank you, but I can’t believe you noticed.”

  “I didn’t. I asked Faith. She claims you’re marvelous.”

  “I’m delighted she thinks so. She’s such an aloof individual it’s difficult to deduce her opinion.”

  “She likes you.”

  “I’m glad. I like her.”

  “Have you ordered them clothes? You mentioned you would, but you were supposed to provide me with a list.”

  “I sent to London to an emporium where I can get some ready-made items immediately. They’ll deliver the bill to you. In the meantime, I’ve learned there’s a seamstress in the village. I’ll have her come and take some measurements to start on a larger wardrobe.”

  “Have you beggared me?”

  She scoffed. “Not yet, but if a closet of girls’ dresses could push you into penury, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “It won’t. I’m rich as Croesus.”

  “Don’t brag. It’s irritating.”

  “I’m not bragging. I’m just stating the facts. Order whatever you like for them.”

  “I have.”

  “Have you bought some gowns for yourself too?”

  “No, and I don’t plan on it. I have apparel that is completely suitable for my role here.”

  “But I told you I don’t like you in gray.”

  “Your view of the matter is totally irrelevant.”

  “Irrelevant!” he huffed. “I’m the one who has to look at you when you’re attired like a frump.”

  She batted her lashes. “If you keep flattering me like that, I’ll get a big head.”

  “Heaven forbid.”

  He sat up and began riffling through the basket again. She shoved him away and dished up another plate of food, observing as he wolfed it all down. There was something exceedingly intimate about watching him eat. It seemed as if they were much closer than they should be.

  He was in a chatty mood, and men always liked to talk about themselves so it was a good opportunity to pry some information out of him.

  “If I ask you some personal questions,” she said, “will you answer truthfully?”

  “I might. It depends on the questions.”

  “How old were you when you married the twins’ mother?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “That’s so young.”

  “I was little more than a boy. A stubborn, wild boy.”

  “Then how did you convince anyone to wed you?”

  “My mother arranged it because I was quite a…ah…” His cheeks flushed as if he was too embarrassed to finish his sentence. “Let’s just say she was adamant that I shouldn’t remain a bachelor, and I agreed with her.”

  “Who was your bride?”

  “Her name is Eugenia.”

  “Do you ever see her?”

  “Rarely. She stops by once in awhile, but she has to obtain my permission first, and I don’t usually grant it.”

  “Why not? Wouldn’t it be beneficial for the girls to spend time with her?”

  “She has some problems, and she’s remarried. I don’t like her husband—he’s a dodgy character—and I don’t like the twins to be around him. They lived with Eugenia until they were six, and when I returned to England I took them away from her.” He paused and frowned. “It was bad for them there. They still struggle with it.”

  “Is she angry when you restrict her visits?”

  “Not really. If she shows up here, it’s because she needs money. They’re an afterthought. And when she leaves, they’re distraught for days. I don’t like her to come.”

  “What are some of her problems?”

  Abigail was irked to be so curious, but the twins had had such a peculiar childhood, and any details she could acquire about them would be helpful.

  “Are you sure you wish to know about her?” he asked.

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? It would aid me in my caring for them.”

  “Yes, but the specifics might be a tad too shocking for your tender ears.”

  “I’ll try to bear up.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Mostly, she’s addicted to alcohol and opium. She has issues with uncontrollable intoxication.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that enough about her? She has some other issues too—with men and her behavior toward them—but I’d rather not discuss them with you. The particulars are extremely salacious.”

  “No, no,” she hurriedly said, “I don’t need to hear anything else about her. Did you notice
these flaws before you wed her?”

  “No. She was exuberantly fun and vivacious, but she started to change later on. Her mood swings were often so severe that it seemed as if another person had inhabited her body.”

  “It must have been dreadful for you.”

  He shrugged. “Most of the time, I was away in the army so I missed a lot of it. My mother had to deal with it for me, and I’d only be confronted by it when I came home on furlough.”

  “I actually feel sorry for you.”

  He snorted with amusement. “I’m a sympathetic fellow.”

  “No, you’re not, but in this instance I might possess a tiny bit of empathy.”

  “You’ll likely meet her someday.”

  “Your sister mentioned I might.”

  “Then you’ll see what I mean.”

  “I hope she doesn’t visit. After the news you just shared, I’m not eager to become acquainted.”

  “She’s harmless,” he claimed, then he scowled. “Well, not harmless. She’s capable of inflicting great damage, but it happens in quiet ways.”

  He studied her, then leaned nearer and furtively squeezed her fingers.

  “Don’t fret over it,” he said.

  “I will fret.”

  “I detest how it impacts the twins so we won’t let it affect them. I’ve born the brunt of Eugenia’s deranged tendencies all these years. I’ll keep her sights set on me so it never lands on the girls.”

  “I would appreciate it. It’s my intent that they have a very boring, very unexciting life from here on out. Or at least that their hair is brushed and braided and their dresses fit.”

  He grinned. “You aim for such small targets.”

  “I learned long ago never to reach for the stars. You can’t ever grab hold so it only brings disappointment.” It was a comment that hinted at her depressing history, and he looked as if he might interrogate her about her past again so she quickly shifted the focus of the conversation back to him. “Tell me about their father. Can you talk about him? Or would you rather not?”

  “I don’t mind talking about him.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “I didn’t know him. I knew who he was.”

  “Good. I didn’t want to discover a friend had betrayed you.”

  “He was someone she met during the Season while I was away.” He stared out at the waves, and he shook his head. “It seems silly now to have gotten so angry. Lord Pendergast tried to persuade me she wasn’t worth so much fury, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  “Was the man a cad and a practiced roué? Was he the type who went around seducing other men’s wives?”

  “He was very young; we all were. She was wild and pretty, and I think he fell into a situation he couldn’t control or escape.”

  “Is he her husband? Were they married after your divorce?”

  “Gad, no. His father was an aristocrat, and after our duel his parents whisked him out of the country on a sudden diplomatic trip to Rome.”

  She froze, suddenly feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the sky. Her parents had abruptly left England on a diplomatic trip to Rome. They’d taken her brother, Hayden, with them, and she’d been so jealous. She’d have loved to travel to Italy, and with their planning to be away for over a year, she’d had to board at school with no holidays to break up the monotony.

  During their lengthy absence, she’d constantly groused over Hayden being their parents’ favorite, over their not considering that she would have liked to accompany them too. Then, after all of them had died on the way home, she’d suffered pangs of guilt that had never really faded.

  Alex Wallace could not mean her brother. Alex Wallace could not have dueled with Hayden. If Hayden had seduced and impregnated another man’s wife, wouldn’t she have heard? If he’d been wounded in such a perilous manner, wouldn’t there have been rumors? Wouldn’t she and her sisters have had some inkling that their brother had been involved in a hideous scandal?

  London was such a vicious place. Wouldn’t people have been delighted to whisper the gossip?

  “Who was he?” she cautiously asked, hardly able to force out the question. “Can you tell me his name? Or is it a secret?”

  “It’s not a secret. He was Hayden Henley, Lord Middlebury’s son and heir.” She was so quiet he yanked his gaze away from the water and looked over at her. “Were you acquainted with him or his father?”

  “No!” she firmly stated.

  “I always suspected his elevated rank was the reason I got in so much trouble. If I’d simply shot someone of my own social class, no one would have cared.” He chuckled derisively. “But a commoner like me can’t attempt to murder a viscount.”

  “You shot him? You shot Hayden Henley?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, Abigail, I’m very, very sure. I spent a year in prison and five years in exile as punishment for it. I paid a fine that nearly cost me my home and property. I didn’t imagine it. I shot him right in the chest.”

  “But he lived?”

  “Just barely.”

  She licked her bottom lip, processing the tale, struggling to make sense of it. “What happened to him after he fled to Rome with his parents? Was there ever any news about him?”

  “He passed away while he was in Italy, but not from my actions. I’m not certain of the details. In light of the catastrophe I’d caused, I vowed never to inquire or speculate. I don’t wish to know a single fact about him—except he never returned to England so we’ll never cross paths.”

  “Do you still hate him?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve tried to be a Christian about it, to forgive him and Eugenia, but there are numerous flaws in my character. I’ve gotten over most of it, but there are huge parts I haven’t. If I ran into him, I’d probably shoot him all over again.”

  “And his family…you hate all of them too, I suppose.”

  “Bloody bunch of aristocrats,” he muttered, then he gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry for my rough language, but this is a difficult topic for me.”

  “I understand.”

  She stared down the beach to where the twins had spun around and were starting back toward them. Again, she was struck by how much they resembled her sisters, Sarah and Catherine, at that same age, but of course they would. They were Hayden’s daughters. They were Abigail’s nieces.

  The most remarkable insight riveted her: There was a piece of Hayden out in the world! He’d perished at sea, a young man who’d had no opportunity to choose a bride or sire an heir. But…

  He had left Mary and Millie behind, and Abigail had arrived to watch over them. Had Fate delivered her to Wallace Downs? Was her brother, Hayden, guiding her so she’d find them? What were the odds? What were the chances?

  An eerie shiver rocked her, and she shook it off. The information had her so discombobulated that she wondered if she might burst into tears.

  One thing was undeniably clear: She could never leave Wallace Downs. Not with her knowing the twins’ true identity. Not with her knowing how she was related to them.

  No matter what transpired in the future, no matter how Alex Wallace treated her, she would have to remain. She would have to always guarantee Hayden’s girls were safe and cherished. She would have to always be vigilant. If not her, who would?

  He assessed her, noting her distress, and he frowned. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Are you all right?”

  “Actually, no. I’m a bit nauseous.” She pointed to the picnic basket. “I’m afraid the food has upset my stomach.”

  “Now you tell me—after I’ve eaten most of it.”

  She glanced down the beach again, and the girls were close enough that they smiled and waved. She was too stunned to wave back. At the moment, she couldn’t face them. Nor could she continue to loaf with Mr. Wallace and pretend all was fine.

  “I’m really not feeling well,” she said. “Would you
…ah…mind terribly if I went to the house? Could you pick up my mess and bring the twins?”

  “Certainly.” He gestured to the path that meandered through the beach grass and the woods and would take her to the cottage. “Go—before you faint on me and I have to carry you there.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  She stood and ran away as fast as she could.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Camilla was sitting on the sofa in the front parlor of the cottage, drinking a glass of wine and wondering where everyone was. She’d barged in and made herself at home, but the place was empty, and she didn’t like having to wait on lesser mortals.

  Where were the twins and why weren’t they busy with their lessons? There was a new governess in residence. Were they slacking off so soon after the woman had arrived? Was the woman a shirker? Would she take advantage of Alex and not earn her wages?

  Camilla was always irked when she had to trek over to the cottage, and usually she stayed away because Faith was so surly and unwelcoming. Alex refused to order her to be more civil to Camilla so Camilla was left in the untenable position of having to monitor the twins without being able to investigate their situation.

  Not that she was particularly scrupulous about it. Not that she cared much about their condition.

  Why he didn’t simply send them to boarding school she couldn’t figure out. They were certainly old enough to go, then he wouldn’t have to fuss with them. He’d quickly realize how nice it was without them underfoot, and he’d be glad she’d convinced him to be shed of them.

  Her current trip was necessitated by the fact that the governess had not yet presented herself to Camilla over at the manor. Obviously, when Alex hired her, he’d failed to clarify Camilla’s role in the household, and no one else had seen fit to clarify it either.

  The woman’s lack of deference had forced Camilla to seek her out instead of the other way around. So Camilla’s disposition was foul and her temper on a short leash.

  Finally, the rear door opened, and she listened as someone entered and walked down the hall toward the foyer and the stairs that would lead up to the bedchambers. She was in no mood to tussle with Faith and hoped it wasn’t her.

  She didn’t bother to stand, but leaned forward slightly so she could catch a glimpse of whoever was passing by. To her consternation, it appeared to be a very young woman—and she was quite pretty too.