Seductive Lies
Page 23
“I am happy you have the ring. It was your mother’s,” Her Grace said. “Meriwether had given it to her, but she felt she no longer could keep it when she wed your father. She gave it back. After the duel, he gave the ring to Priscilla in case your mother returned and had need of it. It was his way of seeing to her welfare.
“He loved her. He was never happy after she left him. It was funny in a way. Georgiana found a semblance of happiness that evaded Meriwether.”
It explained so much…why she saw the visions of Meriwether.
Walking across the cemetery, Harriet paused before the Burkes’ crypt. After the discovery of her mother’s remains, Arthur had them buried alongside of her father. Harriet had come often after the burial. She felt close to her mother here. She felt at peace.
A slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. Harriet turned to see her daughter laughing beside her cousins, Clarissa’s children, under a large oak. To Harriet’s joy, Clarissa had moved back into Beebe Manor with her husband and three children. It was good to have her so close once more. Their children would grow up with each other.
Clarissa had been needed to care for Reginald. He had returned after recovering in London, although he had never been the same, a shell of his former self. He would sit for hours without a word, staring blankly out into seeming nothingness. Arthur doubted Reginald would ever fully regain all that he had lost, but at least Reginald was home surrounded by his family.
As for Bessie, she bided her time between her childhood home and Ayercombe Manor. She had changed. Gone was her childlike quality…her innocence lost. The poor thing had wanted only to please. Harriet’s heart ached for her cousin. Bessie never talked of the woman who had been the only mother she had ever known. Harriet realized the hurt ran deep, but time seemed to ease the pain Bessie had suffered. She had begun to smile again.
It had helped Ewan had become more patient with his wife, which held him in better stead with Harriet. If not a perfect marriage, the two had a better understanding of what their life together entailed and seemed content with the arrangement.
From the corner of her eye, she saw her husband walking towards her. Her heart stirred. She felt a twinge of guilt for being so completely happy. After all they had endured, they had survived…and thrived. She knew now what it was to live one’s life for the other. It was how it was and how it would always be between the two of them.
Harriet could never explain the connection Arthur and she had to another. Clarissa told her that they were fated to each other. Harriet supposed it was the simplest explanation. Perhaps it needed no explanation, as with her visions…
There had been no visions since that night, only a vivid dream of Vadoma shortly after her aunt’s death. The gypsy stood on the edge of the cliff in a cloud of mist. Holding her arms out for Harriet, she smiled broadly. Vadoma took Harriet’s hands in hers.
“You have done well, my child. The evil is asleep.”
“I don’t understand, Vadoma. I don’t understand why…how. Tell me,” Harriet pleaded. “Who are you?”
“I am who you need me to be,” Vadoma said solemnly. “You ask for something that cannot be given. Understanding comes from within…it comes with faith.”
“It is over then?” Harriet asked.
Vadoma said nothing. Releasing Harriet’s hands, she stepped back into the mist and faded away. Harriet stood alone on the cliff with the water crashing over the rocks below her. Before her, the fog lifted and the sun shone down on the endless ocean.
Harriet woke with a sense of completion, if not an understanding. She could not worry about what lay ahead of her in this life. Life was meant to be lived in moments. The good and the bad…each needed to be experienced. Now, though, Harriet would not be alone. Arthur was there beside her to give her strength to face whatever life held for them both.
Arthur strolled up beside her. “Are you ready, my love?”
“Yes, it is time to go home,” she agreed and laid her hand on his arm. She paused a moment. Gazing up at her husband, she said, “You know I love you.”
Arthur nodded and smiled down at her. “Forever, I’m told.”
The End
Enter A World Filled With Romance
Seductive Secrets by Colleen Connally
Book One, Secret Lives Secrets
Someone wants Alyce Hythe dead…
Shunned from London society for being the daughter of England’s most notorious spy, Alyce Hythe desires only to clear her father’s name. For years, she has been hidden away from all prying eyes, given a new identity and told to forget who she was. But strange things have been happening, causing old rumors to once more be whispered.
Long has Lord Julian Casvelyn lived with guilt brought on when his brother was murdered by England’s most infamous traitor. But one eventful night has changed everything Lord Julian believed about his brother’s death. Never did he suspect the woman he has just saved from certain harm is the daughter of that man.
Now Julian is caught in the midst of a conspiracy and desire for that woman. Thrown together by fate, the two search for answers long denied them and along the way discover a love that can free them both.
EXCERPT
Julian woke abruptly. He couldn’t get to his pocket watch to see the time with her in his arms. Light was breaking through the curtained windows. Morning had dawned. How long the night had been. He looked down upon the woman in his arms. She slept soundly against him. Strangely, he took comfort in the thought.
It was not often he held a woman such as this in his arms. To most women Lord Julian Casvelyn was considered a rake. Although every season, one mother or another set their cap for him as a catch for their young daughter. Every year he disappointed thosepoor Mommas. He had no intention of pursuing on an innocent. In due time, he would do what was proper, marry and produce an heir, but that time had not come.
Alyce stirred in his arms. He looked down upon her and she snuggled closer to him. She was an innocent. Of that he had no doubt. She hadn’t a clue to the danger of being in his arms at this moment...of how his desires had been roused. He should have said no to her when she asked for him to hold her, but he had long since lost control of the situation.
She had brought out in him a protectiveness he had not felt in years...if ever. He thought it dead inside him. Looking down at her sleeping peacefully, the image of her standing by the fire emerged. Her figure illuminated beneath her gown from the firelight. Images of the possibilities with this beautiful woman in his arms in the early morning light stirred within him.
She was not adverse to him. Where women were concerned, his instincts never failed him. No, she would never have slept so soundly in his arms. She trusted him. God Gawd! With a sudden remembrance he had told her to.
He reasoned in all probability his grandfather had fulfilled an obligation to a solider under his former commander. There was no other logical explanation. She said she was prepared to accept her inheritance which would push her well passed the age for a Season if she had been high born. Surly, his grandfather would not have ignored a need for a Season for the girl. Although, his grandfather had hired two soundly disreputable people to see to her welfare all these years.
An ache within him grew and with it the urge to have her. Scattered thoughts rambled through his mind. What harm would come if he seduced her? He could set her up in London. Take from his grandfather any worry about her welfare. He would protect her.
Good lord! He reprimanded himself. What had grabbed hold of him! Desire. Passion. Lust. He answered himself.
He needed to leave, ignore the war between body and mind. He had only to ease off the bed and regain his composure. This girl added too many complications to his life already.
Julian moved slightly, taking her hand off his chest. Then her head rose upward. Her long thick disheveled hair flattered her oval face. Her soft eyes focused upon him. For a moment he gazed into the lovely warm brown eyes. Then slowly without smiling at her, without a word, hi
s head angled downward. His lips brushed hers.
It happened so quickly that his actions astonished him. This was not how it was suppose to be. His reaction. He had never been impulsive...never. Yet her face was barely an inch away from him. He pulled her to him. Giving her no time to contemplate his intent, he brushed his lips against hers again. He inhaled her scent and grew aware of the feel of her body. He pressed another kiss. For an instant he thought she would recoil. Instead of resisting, her hands gripped tight to his shirt in acceptance of what he had to offer.
The voice of caution ignored, he ravished her mouth, pushing her back against the mattress. He slanted his mouth across hers, pushing it open, using his tongue, turning seductive, beguiling, touching her tongue with his gently. His good arm pulled her closer into his encompassing embrace. Her body tensed to the intimacy he offered, then slowly eased, submitting freely to his desires. Her body instinctually arched toward him. A cry escaped her lips which delighted him.
He moved his lips to the side of her mouth, then brushed them against her eyelids, her cheekbones, the soft curve of her neck. He closed his mouth on her neck’s pulse. He became bolder, not resisting his urge toward satisfaction. He could give no reason for his actions, only he wanted her badly, lost in the delirium. He slid his hand up until he reached her breast.
Her body shuddered. No doubt she would have protested, but he clamped his mouth over hers. Slowly, slowly, he warned himself. He was moving too fast. His fingers fumbled for the ribbon to her gown while his lips kissed her again, demanding, aggressive in his pursuit.
Freeing the ties that bound, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric. He watched her eyes widened when he smoothen his palm over her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. He heard only gasps of pleasure while his hand worked to free the garment from her lovely skin.
Pushing back the material, his hand caught upon something. A gold chain. Pulling it up to his vision, he saw a medallion attached. His eye caught the gleam in the morning light. Suddenly, he pulled back up with the necklace in hand. He stared in disbelief. He couldn’t take his eyes off the medallion.
At first he took no notice of Alyce recoiling back from him, but she reached up and jerked her necklace from his hand. Pulling her gown back over her shoulders, she stared wide-eyed at him.
"It is mine!”
He would have none of that. He knew that necklace. His hand gripped her arm tightly, demanding loudly. “Where the hell did you get that medallion?”
“It is mine,” she repeated in a small voice. Her fingers clutched fervently to the chain.
He could well see she was shaking from fear of him he wasn’t certain. He backed away off the bed to the fireside. The fire had dwindled down to embers. The whole of his intent would not be served if he could not collect himself. Regaining a semblance of control, he turned back to her.
To his dismay, she had left the bed and huddled in the corner. Her hands trembling so that she couldn’t tie her ribbon back of the gown. Good Gawd! What had he almost done! Running his fingers through his hair, he bent over to her, stilling the scream on her lips.
“I’m not going to harm you, Alyce. It is only the medallion.” He grimaced. He moved too fast and the wound pained him. “It was my brother’s. I know well the medallion. It has our coat of arms. Where did you get it? I have to know.”
She tried to turn away from him, but his hand reached under her chin lifting it upward. Suddenly she seemed impervious to his closeness and met his eyes.
“Lieutenant Roland gave it to me so his grandfather would know he had sent me. When he delivered me to Colonel Tolworthy, the Colonel wasn’t at Evermonde. The Lieutenant had no time to wait. He said he had to take care of a situation. He had promised my father he would make sure of my safety.”
“I don’t understand, Alyce. Your father, your safety?”
Tears streamed down her face. “Lieutenant Roland woke me in the middle of the night saying my father needed me to leave immediately. He took me to Evermonde then. I never saw my father again.”
“Lieutenant Roland? Lieutenant Roland Casvelyn you mean. You knew my brother, Alyce,” his voice trailed off. Comprehension dawned. “Alyce, who was your father?”
She shook her head and pushed away his hand on her chin while she scrambled back against the wall. Her eyes alit when a slight knock upon the door disturbed their conversation. Not waiting for an answer, the door swung open. Alyce rushed by him and into the arms of the newcomer.
“Charles!” she cried.
Julian recognized the man immediately. Dressed in a yellow-striped waistcoat with a row of huge silver buttons and a hunter green coat, the man appeared to have taken time to preen to look as he did at this moment. Julian’s first thought was of a peacock with his tail feathers all plumed out. The man stood as tall as Julian, but slender, far slighter in frame, far less intimidating.
“What could be so bad, moppet? I’m here now.”
Julian watched as Alyce’s face warmed to the endearment. She buried her face in his shoulder. The man looked up from their embrace.
“Lord Casvelyn. I understand thanks are in order for protecting my girl. I had only received the message late last night. Of course, I came as soon as I could.”
Message? Of course, the message he had sent from Alyce to her friend. She must have conveyed to this man, Lord Charles Tregilgas, Marquess of Rotheward, heir to the Duke of Arungdon.
“Lord Tregilgas,” Julian replied. “Obviously it has been a long night. It is good to see Alyce has a friend, but I’m afraid we are waiting for the magistrate to relay our tale about last night’s adventure. Then I’m escorting Miss Rufford to my grandfather, Colonel Tolworthy.”
“Obviously,” Lord Tregilgas smiled a broad, knowing smile. He tilted his head a tad. “I believe there may be a slight adjustment. I will take Alyce back with me to London. I’m sure you will understand it is for the best.”
“From what I understand Grandfather is her guardian…”
“I take it you do not know all, Lord Casvelyn,” he pointed up his finger to a man behind him. “Leopold, pray take Alyce down to the room where we found dear sweet Aunt Emma who seemed so distressed at having lost Alyce in the night.”
“Oh, Charles, I don’t want to leave you. It has been truly awful these last few weeks. The cottage…tonight…,” she glanced over at Julian. Her face flamed red. “In truth, I owe Lord Casvelyn. He saved me. Charles, did you know…”
“I’m certain I can ascertain what his actions were,” Charles bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Now, do be good if you want to go with me. I have brought you a couple of travel gowns that are exquisite. Change and I will be down. I have all set to leave.”
“Lord Tregilgas, I must object!” Julian interjected. His patience had worn thin by night's adventure and the scene in front of him.
“Go and be a good girl, Alyce,” Lord Tregilgas said, pushing her out the door. He held up his hand as if to give pause to Julian. Watching her leave with reluctance, Lord Tregilgas closed the door and turned to Julian. “I do not want you to think that I’m not deeply appreciative of your efforts to protect Alyce, but I want you to be aware of the circumstances. It is evident to me that you may not have been informed.”
“Then quickly explain yourself.”
“Lord Casvelyn, the fact that you need to be aware of is Alyce’s heritage. Her name isn’t Rufford, but Hythe. Her name is Mary Alyce Hythe, George Hythe’s daughter. Now do you understand?” Lord Tregilgas stepped back toward the door. With his hand on the door knob, he said, “I assume you will not have any issue with me taking her into London now.”
BROKEN LEGACY by Colleen Connally
Book Two, Secret Lives Series
Lord Gerard Lenister needed the lady…after their meeting, he wanted her.
For seventeen years, Lady Eloise Granville lived in France thinking herself a bastard. Not until her life was threatened did her father cross the English Channel to reclaim her as his le
gitimate daughter. Now four years later a revolution roars its ugly head in France. Rumors abound of Lady Eloise’s life before her emergence in England…rumors that link her to the notorious leaders of the French Revolution.
Lord Gerard Lenister knows well the whispered connections Lady Eloise has across the Channel and the disdain that Society holds for the lady. It matters little to him. He could have cared less if she was the incarnation of a she-devil. He would marry Jezebel herself if she helped him on his mission. He is that desperate…but soon discovers that Lady Eloise is not what she seems.
EXCERPT
Despite her misgivings, Eloise enjoyed herself immensely. The opportunity didn't present itself often for her to dance, nor would she likely admit she enjoyed the activity. As the music died, his hand lay on hers to escort her off the floor and the whole of her body tingled. To her dismay, she felt her face flush with a sudden warmth.