Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love (33 page)

BOOK: Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love
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Anne’s eyes widened, and then her smile grew. “Lovely!” She stuck her finger toward a nearby sapphire blue tent. “Off you go, then.”

Without waiting to see if Katherine followed her succinct instructions, Anne turned around and disappeared within the purple tent lined with black stripes.

Katherine alternated her stare between the tent her sister had disappeared into and the sapphire blue tent. She sighed. Yes, all bad ideas began with her sister. Dear, fanciful Anne, she’d somehow retained all traces of innocence. At nineteen, Anne still possessed girlish hopes and silly dreams. She’d somehow remained untouched by their father’s sins…sins that had left their family destitute, and forced their eldest sister,

Aldora to sacrifice herself at the marital altar to save their family. Granted, Aldora had ultimately found love. But that was neither here, nor there…men were fickle, unreliable, inconstant creatures not to be trusted. Unfortunately, her romantic of a sister was only drawn by the drivel written about by poets.

A snowflake drifted down and settled upon her nose. Katherine looked up into the thick gray-white winter sky at the sea of flakes that danced a path down onto the frozen river.

Except, just then, with the warmth of the ale and the crisp cleanliness of the holiday air, Katherine was filled with the spiritedness she didn’t recognize in herself.

Suddenly, the ice which she’d earlier feared seemed like a very magical gift.

Katherine made her way back to the vendor who’d sold them the tankard of ale, returning the now empty glass to him. She waved off his offer for a second, and made to leave.

She walked into a solid, unyielding wall.

Whoosh
. All the air left her lungs, and she and teetered unsteadily upon her feet. The jolting movement displaced the bonnet atop her head. Her breath fanned little wisps of white into the cool air as she managed to right herself. When she’d regained control of her breath she blinked several times, and looked up at the gentleman who’d nearly bowled her over.

A towering, broad bear of a man, he paused to glare down his slightly crooked Roman nose at her. His black, condescending look dared her to speak.

So she did. Katherine tossed her head back. “Pardon me.”

The pompous prig jerked his attention forward and without so much as a murmured apology, continued on his way. The gentleman at his right, a lean, lithe fellow offered her a sheepish smile. His eyes expressed the other man’s apology.

Katherine gave a curt nod and turned on her heel, determined not to let the foul fiend spoil the lovely day that portended the coming of Christmas.

Mindful of the fact that she and Anne flouted propriety by being out, unchaperoned, Katherine tugged her green velvet bonnet down more around her eyes. She adjusted her thick fur-lined cloak closer and peeked around.

But the passersby’s moved with an excited step, lords and ladies giggling and chuckling as they slipped upon the ice and righted themselves before tumbling onto the sleek surface. Merchants barking out the contents contained within their vibrant hued tents, drew the attention of the would be buyers. Katherine realized in that moment, no one noticed the actions of two unchaperoned young ladies. Everyone was too engrossed in the spirit of the day.

The practical and rational of the twins, Katherine felt herself hopelessly lost in the beauty of the day… and she set out to explore. She made her way down the long row of tents, past the pretty sapphire blue one she’d been instructed by Anne to explore. Ever onward to the end of the row, to where a drab brown tent rested on the fringe of the activity. Katherine was drawn to it; perhaps feeling a connection to its somber, isolation from the festivities.

She paused beside it, and peered inside. “Hullo?”

Silence met her greeting.

She frowned, and made to turn back toward the activity upon the river.

“Hello, my lady.”

Katherine spun back around. She squinted in an attempt to adjust to the dimness of the cold, lonely, little tent. “Hullo,” she said again. She rubbed her hands together to rub warmth back into her fingers and looked around. Suddenly feeling very foolish for indulging her sister’s flight of fancy, Katherine made to leave.

“Is there something oi might ‘elp you find, moi lady? A gift for someone, perhaps?”

Katherine shook her head. “No. I’m afraid not.”

The gaunt old woman with straggly white hair came closer. “Wot is that, my lady?”

Compassion filled Katherine at the sight of the poor woman whose tattered brown skirts and thin shawl would offer little protection by way of the elements. Katherine reached into her reticule and fished around for some coins but something in the woman’s eyes stayed her movements; something that indicated that even though impoverished, this woman would welcome no charity. “Er, yes. I mean, there is something you might be able to help me find. I’m searching for a gift for my sister.”

The woman’s small, brown eyes searched Katherine’s face. She nodded and moved to one of the tables littered with her wares. She held up a pink, satin ribbon. “Perhaps some ribbon for the lady?”

Katherine shook her head, and advanced deeper into the store.

The woman moved to the next table, filled with bright baubles and trinkets. “Then a kerchief for the lady?”

She held up a floral piece of fabric embroidered with red, pink, and purple roses.

Katherine reached for the ribbon. The old woman handed it over for her perusal.

She glanced down at it, passing it back and forth between her fingers, locked on the fuchsia rose so expertly stitched upon the cloth. She remembered back to the day she’d learned of Father’s betrayal.

Mother had been seated on the wrought iron bench within her gardens, weeping bitter, angry tears. She’d caught sight of Katherine and quickly dashed back those tears.
“I’ve let the gardener go. A silly expense, don’t you think, Katherine?”

“My lady?”

The fabric fluttered from her fingers, back onto the table. Katherine gave her head a clearing shake, a bid to dispel the pained musings of the past. “Er, no, no floral items.” Since that day in the gardens, Katherine had come to detest the cheerful blooms, the reminder of Father’s failings. That day had taught Katherine the perils of love.

The peddler wrinkled her brow, seeming unaware of Katherine’s inner tumult. She reached into the front pocket of her jacket and withdrew a gold chain. “Perhaps a golden heart, then?”

Katherine looked at the pendant, and her heart paused at the implausibility of it all. She reached for it wordlessly, and studied the golden bauble. “It is perfect,” she said, quietly.

The peddler grunted, and held her hand out.

Katherine blinked, looking down at her open palm. “Oh,” she said, and reached into the front of her reticule. She withdrew several coins.

The woman widened her beady eyes at the small fortune Katherine bestowed.

“It is a fine piece, indeed,” Katherine murmured. There had been a time when Katherine had lain awake in bed, gripped by fear of her family’s dire financial straits. If she could prevent another woman from feeling those sentiments, even for just a bit, then a sovereign was a very, very small price to pay for the pendant.

“There is a story behind that heart, my lady.”

Katherine slipped the heart into her reticule. “I’m certain there is,” she said. “Thank you very much.” And before the peddler could finish, Katherine stepped outside. Katherine listened rather patiently to her sister’s fanciful musings about love, she’d not have to hear the foolish words of a stranger, too.

She stepped outside, and blast of cool wind tossed back her hood. She gasped as the frigid breeze sucked the air from her lungs. Her reticule fell from her fingers and skidded along the frozen surface. “Drat,” she muttered, and hurried after it. She took a step, when the flat-sole of her kid leather boot slipped on the snowflakes coating the frozen river. She threw her arms wide to balance herself as she slid away from the lone little tent, past her reticule, ever farther.

Craaaaack.

She swallowed hard. Her heart hung suspended in her breast.

Then the ice opened up.

 

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Julie Johnstone

My Fair Duchess

 

Available September 29!

 

After years of playing the rake to hide a dark family secret, the Duke of Aversley feels tainted beyond redemption and cynical beyond repair. Never does he imagine hope will come in the form of a quirky, quick-witted lady determined to win the heart of another gentleman.

Thanks to a painfully awkward past, Lady Amelia De Vere long ago relinquished the notion she was a flower that had yet to blossom. But when her family faces financial ruin and the man she has always loved is on the verge of marrying another, she’ll try anything to transform herself to capture her childhood love and save her family–including agreeing to participate in a bet between her brother and the notorious, dangerously handsome Duke Of Aversley.

Bound by the bet, Amelia and Aversley discover unexpected understanding and passion beyond their wildest dreams, if only they can let go of their pride, put trust in each other and chance losing their hearts.

 

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Biography

Book List

Sneak Peak

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