Chapter 1 #3
It was like this everywhere that Caspian went.
He was five-and-thirty years old, a perfect age for marriage.
He was a duke, a title any lord or lady would be thrilled to attach to their daughter.
He was also tall, strongly built with wide shoulders and a heavy back, dark hair, and a handsome face that was angular and sharp like a marble statue.
Often, he was told that he looked as if his face had been designed purposefully to be drawn and then admired.
Never mind that he was a known rake. Never mind that he was a known gambler. Never mind that he had made it his life’s mission to adopt a reputation that should have frightened any respectable lady away from him. Never mind that!
My title is all they care about… my wealth… and how they might use me.
Perhaps such things should not have bothered Caspian, as he had no desire to fall in love. But deep down, there was the fear that such a thing might just happen, and that when it did, the inevitable pain of a broken heart was sure to follow.
Better to avoid such things entirely.
Caspian moved through the garden party without stopping, avoiding any chance of being cornered.
Sadly, Timothy was nowhere in sight, which made Caspian think the obvious.
The boy was known to sneak off when he was not watched, and with his sour mood, there was a good chance he had left the premises altogether.
Feeling the walls closing in around him, needing to find Timothy and leave at once, Caspian decided to do a quick search of the outer estate.
Marlborough Estate was far smaller than Caspian’s own lands, surrounded mostly by sparse forest which separated the manor from a nearby village. Such terrain made it difficult to scout quickly, so Caspian ducked from the back garden and followed a dirt path that he had once found Timothy exploring.
The dirt path led into the forest, winding among the trees and snaking away from his cousin’s house until the sound of the party grew distant and then disappeared completely.
Above, lightning suddenly cracked across the sky. The low rumble of thunder followed. And with the drop in air temperature, Caspian was sure the rain was about to come back.
Where is that boy?
Suddenly, the path that Caspian followed opened as the forest fell back, and Caspian rounded the final bend to find himself in the middle of a large glade.
What was more, a small abbey sat flush in the middle of the glade, and from the way the ground was churned all around it, Caspian guessed that it had recently been attended. A segregation, maybe?
A single carriage also sat at the abbey corner. It was unguarded, with horses quietly waiting, and Caspian wondered if their owner was inside.
However, such a spot was exactly where someone like Timothy would be hiding. The boy really was a menace.
Caspian sighed as he trudged through the mud and torn-up grass, shaking his head, reminding himself that when he found the child, he could not let anger take over. The boy wanted warmth? He wanted proof that he was cared for? It was time Caspian showed him.
“Timothy!” Caspian called as he strode into the abbey. “Timothy, are you…” His words caught in his throat.
Timothy was nowhere to be seen, but that did not mean the abbey was empty. The only person inside that Caspian could see was sitting alone beneath the altar, crying as if the world was ending.
Caspian started in surprise, very nearly turned and hurried away, but found himself frozen to the spot as he looked at the crying woman, utterly captivated and transfixed for reasons he could not explain.
She wore an emerald gown, currently bunched up around her as she sat with her knees pulled into her chest on the ground.
The gown’s color highlighted the auburn in her hair, making it glow brightly as if her head was on fire.
Her skin was as white as milk. The sound of her soft, sad crying gently floated across the abbey and cut straight to Caspian’s heart.
It took her a moment to realize he was there. Once she did…
She turned suddenly, dropped her hands from her face, and her eyes widened in surprise and fear. Her eyes were crystal blue, glistened red, and too big for her round face.
She is beautiful…
“Who are you?” she asked, a little aggressively, a note of panic in her voice. Those big eyes looked about, searching the abbey as if in worry. “Where did you come from?”
“Is something the matter?” Caspian asked, meaning it. He rarely cared about others, but worry flooded him, along with a need to help this woman he did not know. “Did someone…”
“You need to leave.” The woman was on her feet. She wiped her nose, looked around again, and the panic on her face grew. “Now!”
Caspian blinked. “I… What is going on? Why are you here?”
“You cannot be here.” She rushed down the aisle. “Please! Before he—”
“Arabella!” The voice was like a clap of thunder, booming from outside and washing through the abbey in a way that had the young woman stumbling back as if she had been slapped.
“Arabella!” the shout came again.
“My father,” she said desperately. “If he finds you here… please!”
“Your father…” Caspian turned to follow where the voice had come from. He had no idea what was going on, but every instinct he possessed told him that he could not possibly leave.
“Embarrassed! Ashamed! Do not think to run, girl!”
Caspian firmed himself as the voice came closer, and he set a snarl on his face just as the owner of that voice stormed into the abbey.