Claiming the Forbidden Bride. Gayle Wilson

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      The word seemed to hang in the air between them, the crux of all the arguments that had marred the last few days. To break the suddenly awkward silence, Rhys returned his gaze to the reflection in the glass, tugging down his waistcoat.

      ‘A few more days can’t hurt,’ Edward said after a moment.

      ‘Unless the weather changes. Autumn can be unpredictable.’

      ‘All the more reason—’

      Laughing, Rhys turned to face his brother. ‘One more day of sitting by the fire, Edward, and I promise you I shall go stark raving mad. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience.’

      ‘You are mad. Surely, you’ve done enough for King and country. More than enough.’

      ‘I’m alive. Relatively sound of mind and body. And I’ve explored a great deal of geography during that service. Most of which, I remind you, is about to be carved up and redistributed in Vienna.’

      ‘You can’t expect Keddinton—’

      ‘You’d be surprised how little I expect,’ Rhys interrupted. ‘I simply believe that my experiences during the last few years might prove valuable to someone. That’s my hope, at least.’

      It was a discussion they’d had several times during the previous month. One which had never satisfactorily been resolved on either side.

      ‘You can be useful here.’

      Rhys laughed again, putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘If I thought you really needed me, you know I’d stay. I owe you that and more. The truth of the matter is I should only get in the way of your very competent estate manager, and you know it.’

      ‘You owe me nothing, Rhys. I hope you know that.’

      Rhys pulled his brother close, embracing him for perhaps the first time in their lives. Older by a decade, Edward had always seemed almost as distant as their father. Rhys had no doubt they both cared for him, but demonstrations of their affection had been few and far between.

      ‘You’ll forgive me if I disagree,’ he said. ‘You and Abigail have not only made me welcome, you have cared for me as if…’ Rhys hesitated, searching for an analogy that would express his gratitude, without making the other man uncomfortable.

      ‘As if you were my brother?’ Edward’s rare smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. ‘My only brother, might I remind you. And having spent more than one night convinced you wouldn’t live to see the sunrise, I confess a reluctance to let you out of my sight.’

      ‘I managed to survive Boney’s best efforts to eradicate me. I believe I may be trusted to make it all the way to London without incident.’

      ‘Alone. And ridiculously on horseback,’ Edward added, shaking his head.

      ‘The saddest indictment of my boredom is that I’m looking forward to that journey immensely.’

      He was. Despite the deep gratitude he felt toward his family, they had been determined to wrap him in cotton wool since his arrival at Balford Manor almost six months ago.

      He’d endured his sister-in-law’s potions and his brother’s strictures until he’d wanted to throw the former at their collective heads. The thought of finally being free of their solicitous, if loving, supervision had done more for his spirits than had even the prospect of once more feeling his life had some meaning.

      ‘Take care,’ Edward urged. ‘Promise me that you won’t do anything foolish.’

      ‘If there are highwaymen about, I shall toss them your money with abandon. Believe me, Edward, I am not looking for adventure.’

      Simply a little fresh air and anonymity. Both to be enjoyed with no one hovering over him.

      He knew very well what the next argument advanced against this journey would be. It was one he had heard ad infinitum during the tedious days of his recuperation.

      He didn’t intend to listen to another injunction that he must guard his fragile health. Not today. Today was an opportunity to escape the confines of that familial concern.

      ‘If I don’t start now, however, I shall not make Buxton by nightfall. I don’t fancy spending a night in the open. The dampness, you know.’ Unable to resist, Rhys closed his right hand into a fist, which he tapped lightly against the centre of his chest.

      Edward’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but at the last second he came to his senses or perhaps he glimpsed the teasing light in his brother’s eyes. In any case, Edward clamped his lips shut before he nodded.

      ‘Off to adventure then,’ Rhys said, gesturing his brother out of the chamber door ahead of him.

      ‘Dear God, I hope not, ‘Edward muttered as he passed.

      Rhys grinned again, but somewhere in the back of his mind was an acknowledgement that a small adventure would not come amiss. Perhaps he was not quite so ready for that promised boredom as he had imagined.

       Chapter One

      Rhys had kept the promise he’d given his brother about the leisurely pace of his journey. In actuality, the first day he’d spent in the saddle had reminded him of exactly how long it had been since he’d ridden any distance at all.

      He had reached the inn at Buxton in the early afternoon, more than willing to continue the longer portion of his trip on the following day. His godfather’s invitation, issued some weeks ago, had been open-ended, and despite Rhys’s outward show of confidence, he had been concerned enough about his stamina to phrase his acceptance in like terms.

      He was pleased that, despite the protest of sore muscles, he’d been up and on his way fairly early the next morning. The crisp autumn air had been an elixir for the ennui of the last few months. As had the beauty of the downs, still green despite the turning leaves.

      A shout brought his mount’s head up and Rhys’s wandering attention back to the present. A young girl, screaming something unintelligible, ran across the meadow below him.

      Instinctively his eyes swept the countryside behind her. There was no sign of pursuit.

      Rhys’s gaze then tracked across the area in front of the running girl, where he quickly discovered the object of her concern. A child, her long pale hair streaming behind her like a banner, flew across the rough ground.

      His lips lifted in response, remembering his own childhood. A day such as this had too often lured him from his studies. He had been older than this little girl, and he had usually paid the price for his escapades with a hiding from his tutor, but he had always considered those rare tastes of freedom to have been well worth the pain.

      Almost idly, he considered the landscape that stretched in front of the child. As he did, the reminiscent smile faded.

      From his vantage point, it was apparent that the field she flew across ended abruptly at a steep escarpment, one of many scattered СКАЧАТЬ