A Forbidden Love Novella Series Box Set One: Four Novellas in One Book

by Bree Wolf

  “Too much sugar?” Christine asked from across the breakfast table, a mocking smile on her soft lips. “I dare say it serves you right, my lord.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Wesley glared at her. Why was it that nothing ever seemed to affect her mood? Even when she was furious with him, she seemed to enjoy it. Who on earth enjoyed being furious? Shaking his head, Wesley turned to the bacon on his plate when laughter echoed to his ear through the closed doors.

  Straining his ears, his head flew up and he found the same eagerly expectant stillness on Christine’s face. His mother, however, continued to sip her tea, her eyes distant as though she were alone in the room.

  “Did you hear that?” Christine whispered, and he nodded. “Both of them?”

  Then the door opened, and William and Catherine walked in, her arm looped through his, their eyes gazing into the other’s. Unadulterated happiness shone on both their faces with such intensity that Wesley had to blink.

  “Good morning,” they both chirped before they took their seats. William’s hand, however, never left Catherine’s, and Wesley found himself wondering how they would proceed to butter their rolls. One-handed?

  “You look happy,” Christine observed as her gaze shifted back and forth between her sister and brother-in-law. “What happened? When we left you last night, we feared the worst.” She turned to Catherine. “I even went to your room later to see if you were all right, but you didn’t answer.”

  Catherine bit her lower lip as a hint of red came to her cheeks. “Well, I wasn’t in…my room,” she confessed.

  For a second, Christine looked confused before her eyes opened wide. “Oh!” Then a delicious smile spread over her face. “I suppose there is an upside to being married after all,” she chuckled, and her eyes turned to Wesley.

  Holding her gaze, Wesley raised his brows, knowing there was no way he could speak openly with that many pairs of ears around to listen. This was a private conversation, and he intended to keep it that way.

  Pouring milk in Catherine’s tea and then into his own, William cleared his throat. “Well, without going into detail,” he said, glancing at his wife, who seemed to blush even more, “we have resolved…our issues. Although my memories have not returned yet, I do remember the one thing that is most important.”

  “And that would be?” Christine enquired.

  Looking into Catherine’s eyes, William smiled. “That I love her,” he whispered, deep emotions tinging his voice. “She is my wife, and you cannot believe the relief I felt when I realised that the impossible had just come true.”

  “Hey!” Christine snapped, her brows drawn in displeasure.

  William laughed. “No offence, dear sister. But I don’t want to be married to you any more than you want to be married to me.”

  Shrugging, Christine nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” A sparkle in her eyes, she smiled. “And yet, it was an adventure, was it not?”

  William and Catherine frowned, then shook their heads.

  “Oh, please!” Christine exclaimed. “Wasn’t it the most wonderful moment when we removed our masks and everyone stared at us?” Shaking her head, she sighed. “I’ve never had that much fun. Their shocked faces instantly broke out laughing. I’m certain people will talk about this for years to come.”

  “Maybe you should give them some time,” Wesley suggested. “I’m certain sooner or later they’ll be able to laugh about last night as well.”

  Turning to look at him, Christine’s eyes narrowed as though she was taking aim, and for a second, he thought she would stick out her tongue at him. Why was it that she treated him as though he was the villain when he was the one who had had every intention of being honourable?

  The rest of the morning passed in a fairly humorous fashion, especially when considering the rather subdued atmosphere of the past few weeks. Christine was once again enjoying herself as she recounted every little amusing detail from the night before.

  “And the twins,” she said, waving her hand as she tried to recall their names. “That notorious viscount and his brother, did you see their faces when we took off our masks?” Glancing from one to the next, she shook her head. “For a moment, they looked almost nervous as they exchanged glances as though they feared to be held responsible for our switch. To tell you the truth, I got the idea from them. Being twins, I never understood why they didn’t have more fun with it. After all, there are such great opportunities to fool people when you’re a twin.”

  As Christine prattled on, Wesley drew his brother aside. “I hope you can forgive us,” he whispered, a grin on his face. “Our intentions were truly honourable.”

  Laughing, William clapped a hand on Wesley’s shoulder. “Although you can be quite troublesome as a brother, I would never believe that you’d torture me like this without a very good reason. And who knows? Maybe if you hadn’t done what you did, I would never have allowed myself to look at Catherine with unprejudiced eyes.” He sighed. “You have no idea how strange it feels when others tell you what you ought to feel, especially when it comes to the woman you love.”

  Wesley nodded, and his gaze shifted to the tall, brown-haired woman with the fiery eyes. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Since I don’t remember, I need to ask,” William said, and Wesley forced his gaze back to his brother. “Has there ever been anything between the two of you?” William glanced at Christine before his eyes came to rest on Wesley’s face.

  Clearing his throat, Wesley shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

  “It is very obvious that you care for her.”

  Wesley’s eyes flew open. “It is?”

  William nodded. “When I thought she was my wife, I would occasionally come upon the two of you and wonder why I didn’t feel jealous because considering the way you looked at each other, any husband should.”

  Wesley swallowed. Were his feelings that obvious? Did Christine know? Did she…? Wesley froze when his brother’s words echoed in his mind. Did she care for him as well?

  “If you care for her,” his brother said, his gaze imploring, “then fight for her.”

  Wesley huffed. “She is determined not to marry.”

  “Maybe,” William said, an encouraging smile on his face. “But look at me, there is nothing that is not possible where love is concerned.”

  Wesley nodded. The only question was: Did she love him?

  Return to Table of Contents

  An Unwelcome Proposal

  (#4 A Forbidden Love Novella Series)

  About the Book

  He proposed. She said no.

  Will she regret her answer?

  All his life, WESLEY EVERETT has watched other men fall in love. Now, when he finally does find a woman who brings a flutter to his heart, she could not be less interested.

  CHRISTINE DANSBY does not believe in marriage. She has a family she adores, friends who adore her, and a wardrobe that would put the queen herself to shame. What would she need a husband for? After all, life is far too exhilarating to settle down!

  Will Wesley take 'no' for an answer? Or will he be able to convince Christine that marriage is far from boring?

  Prologue

  England, November 1818 (or a variation thereof)

  “Is something the matter, Marianne?” Christine asked, eyeing her friend critically. Usually cheerful by nature, her childhood friend seemed most distraught as she wrung the handkerchief in her hands with such strength that Christine feared it would tear in two any moment now. “You do not seem like yourself.”

  Marianne sighed, and her eyes, clouded and slightly red-rimmed, travelled to the window. “Everything is fine,” she mumbled, but her shoulders slumped as though she didn’t have the strength to hold herself upright.

  Slightly exasperated, Christine took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Even if I were blind, I’d now that something was wrong.” When Marianne glanced up, Christine leaned forward, holding her gaze. “Tell me what has you so distraught.”

 
; “Truly, it’s no−”

  “Marianne!”

  Sighing once more, her friend swallowed, her eyes drifting back and forth between Christine and the twisted handkerchief clutched in her hands. “Peter has been…” Shrugging her shoulders, Marianne sighed yet again.

  Christine felt the desperate urge to slap her. When cheerful, Marianne was a delight to be around. However, when something was wrong, Christine preferred to avoid her. Clearly, that was no longer an option!

  “Do you want me to guess?” Christine asked, sounding as exasperated as she felt. “However, it would save us both some time if you simply told me what is going on.”

  Not looking up, her friend began to pick at the handkerchief’s embroidery. “He’s been distant lately.”

  “And?”

  Marianne shrugged. “Sometimes I feel as though he’s avoiding me,” she mumbled, eyes fixed on a small, embroidered rose bud. “He goes out, and when I ask where he’s been, he…” Again, she trailed off.

  “You believe him to have an affair,” Christine stated matter-of-factly.

  Instantly, Marianne’s eyes flew open in shock and her jaw dropped down before she clamped it shut once more, defiance in her clear blue eyes. “How dare you suggest such a thing?”

  Shaking her head, Christine looked at her friend indulgently. “You suggested it, dear Friend. However, it was I who had the courage to say it out loud.”

  “Peter would never−”

  Christine snorted. “Are you suggesting that men generally do not have affairs? Or that your husband is above such matters?”

  Swallowing, Marianne turned her attention back to the handkerchief.

  “Did you ask him?” Christine pried although she already knew the answer.

  Slowly, Marianne shook her head.

  “Why not?”

  Again, Marianne sighed. “I’m afraid of what he’ll say.”

  “Isn’t it better to know the truth,” Christine asked, “than to be left wondering?”

  When her friend refrained from providing an answer, Christine took a deep breath. Married for less than a year, Marianne had been deliriously happy only a few weeks ago. To see her in such misery now once more proved to Christine that marriage was not a desirable state for anyone. Even those who entered into it with love in their hearts would one day wake up and find it gone. Slipped out in the middle of the night.

  What followed then was heartbreak and humiliation, at least for the female half of the population, whereas men generally sought to distract themselves by entering into an affair. Christine had observed so more than once and had long since come to the conclusion that a husband would not do for her.

  However, taking a lover was something that she seriously began to consider.

  If only she were a man and could do so without worrying too much about her reputation. At least, her father’s generous foresight ensured that she would never be without means.

  “What should I do?” Marianne’s feeble voice jarred Christine out of her own wonderings.

  Christine shrugged. “Discover the truth,” she advised, “and then find a way to live with it.” After all, what else could she say? Marianne was Lord Fythe’s wife, and until the day of his demise, her choices were, therefore, severely limited.

  A knock on the door saved her from saying anything further that might hurt her friend’s feelings. “Enter.”

  Stepping into the parlour, her father’s butler bowed to her, a silver platter in his hand holding a sealed envelope. “I apologise, Miss, but this was just delivered. The messenger said it was urgent.”

  “Thank you,” Christine mumbled and reached for the letter. As she recognised the seal, her heartbeat quickened, and she flipped the letter open, her eyes eager for the words hastily scrawled on the page.

  Dear Miss Dansby,

  I apologise for the manner of this communique, however, time is of the essence. I formally request your presence at Harrington Park.

  “Merton,” Christine called over her shoulder. “Have my things packed immediately. I’ll be leaving within the hour.”

  “Is something wrong?” Marianne enquired, her face pale as her eyes glanced at the letter in Christine’s hands.

  Ignoring her friend, Christine read on.

  My brother, William, has been thrown, and as he has yet to regain consciousness, your sister, as you can imagine, is beside herself with worry. Therefore, I’d be much obliged if you could travel to Harrington Park post-haste.

  Yours sincerely,

  Wesley Everett

  Chapter One − Curse you, Wesley Everett

  As the carriage rumbled along the snow-covered road, Christine tapped her right foot on its puddle-splattered floor. Glancing out the window, she tried to guess how much longer it would take for them to arrive as her eyes drifted over the heaps of snow to her left and right. Once more she cursed the timing of such an emergency!

  Taking a deep breath, Christine forced her foot to still. However, the tension coursing through her body like a live being caught up with her before long, and too soon she found her foot tapping the floor at an even accelerated pace. Gritting her teeth, her fingers curled into the thick fabric of her overcoat.

  In her mind, she saw her sister’s face, tear-streaked and pale, sitting at her brother-in-law’s bedside, his eyes closed and his body still.

  Catherine had always been the more delicate of the two sisters, and yet, a hidden strength rested beneath her soft nature, and Christine hoped that she would not despair.

  Despite her own misgivings of marriage in general, Christine knew of the deep love that lived between her sister and her brother-in-law. With her own eyes, she had watched them fall in love in a single night, and although she had sought to caution her sister, she had been unable to ignore the tender devotion that connected the two. On their wedding day, Christine had prayed with all her might that Catherine and William’s love would last, that they could be counted among only a handful of fortunate individuals, who never lost the glow that came to their eyes upon beholding the other.

  Never had Christine contemplated the thought that Catherine would lose the love of her life to an accident. Of course, such things did happen, however, …

  Shaking her head, Christine once more glanced out the window, wondering where they were. With trees, bushes and meadows covered in snow, she could not even guess at their location. For the millionth time, Christine pulled the letter that had sent her on this troublesome journey from her reticule. As her eyes once more flew over the lines as though hoping to find something she hadn’t seen before, Christine swore under her breath.

  “Curse you, Wesley Everett,” she hissed. Could he not have elaborated? Told her more than the few scrawled words that were neither here nor there?

  Picturing his dark brown locks and piercing blue eyes, she wondered what he would say if she were to trade a polite greeting upon her arrival for a forceful smack to his cheek. Would he be stumped? Or would he grin, a devilish twinkle in his eyes as though he had expected no less of her?

  Wesley Everett truly was a strange man. He had this annoying ability to make her blood boil with anger with a single look or curl to his lips. Everything he did felt like a challenge, and Christine wondered what it would feel like to see him again for the first time after her sister’s wedding day.

  Had he grown to be even more insufferable in her absence? She could only hope he’d stay out of her way. With her sister in desperate need of comfort and guidance, the last thing in the world that Christine needed was a man like Wesley Everett getting in her way.

  ***

  Leaving his brother’s bedchamber, Wesley took a deep breath and for a moment rested his back against the heavy wooden door. Nothing! His brother still remembered nothing of the past five years. How was this possible?

  Again, Catherine’s tear-streaked face drifted before his eyes, and he cringed at the desperate longing he had seen in her gaze. What would she do if William never remembered her? If he never reme
mbered his wife? The woman he loved?

  Shaking his head, Wesley started down the corridor. He ought to make certain she was all right. After she had fled her husband’s chamber the day before, he had not seen her. His mother had told him that she was fine considering the circumstances, but still Wesley felt the need to see for himself.

  As he approached the door to her chamber, it suddenly opened and with her back to him, his sister-in-law stepped out. Moving silently, she reached for the door handle and quietly pulled it closed.

  A frown on his face, Wesley watched her. “Catherine? Are you all right?” Then she turned, and his heart jumped into his throat.

  “Chris,” he whispered as he took in her smoky green eyes and full lips. A devilish grin came to her face as she beheld him and her eyes narrowed. Like a predator, she took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his face, and his heart began to hammer in his chest.

  “I didn’t know you’d already arrived,” he said, clearing his throat, as he watched her approach. Still, she remained silent, her eyes trained on his, a calculating gleam in them that sent chills down his back. In response, his own gaze narrowed, and he saw the tension that held her, her right arm quivering ever so slightly. “Are you all right?”

  Coming to stand before him, she took a deep breath.

  For a moment, he felt himself relax before she suddenly drew back her arm and her hand connected with his cheek a split second later.

  Flinching, Wesley reached up and touched a hand to his burning cheek, annoyance chasing away the more delicate feelings that had seized him upon seeing her. “Are you mad, woman?” he snapped, rubbing his cheek, as his eyes searched her face. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you’re an idiot!” she snapped, poking an accusing finger at his chest. “How dare you send me such a letter?” Her eyes blazed with fire. “I was beside myself with worry, not knowing what was happening and how dire things were. Could you not have elaborated?”