Dare To Love (19 page)

Gwendolyn blinked back her anxiety and
realized he was talking about her mother. She knew she resembled
her, but no one here tonight was supposed to know that…to recognize
her, she knew now that the secret might be out. “Who Baron Huxton?”
Gwendolyn asked gently.

“The Duchess of Suffolkshire, you are at
least, related?”

“Yes,” Gwendolyn confessed, pleading with
him, “But you mustn’t tell anyone. Please Baron Huxton I beg of
you.”

“Then you are related?”

“Yes, she was my mother.”

The Baron bowed his head and paced away.
“Yes,” he said softhearted. “Mary had a little girl…I met her once,
Gwendolyn, correct?” He expressed, wiping his brow with a
handkerchief. “The Drummond’s were in association with the
Hollinger’s, were they not?”

“Yes,” she expressed with anxiety now.

“There was a contract.”

Gwendolyn closed her eyes, “Yes.”

He looked down at the ground, “Yes, I do see
the delicacy in this matter.”

“Yes, Baron Huxton, so I do implore you to
stern confidence.”

“Yes, Lady Hollinger,” he replied, encircling
her and then bowing to her nobility, “Your Grace, I will do it for
Mary.” He then leaned up against a pillar in back of him. “Did your
mother…did your mother ever mention me?”

Gwendolyn’s heart dropped a little lower at
this point. Mention him? She tried to search her memory. Baron
Huxton was her mother’s married man? “Oh Baron, yes… she did talk
about you once,” Gwendolyn conveyed, covering up her mouth with her
gloved hand within seeing the Baron’s heart-breaking collapse. The
man looked miserable all of a sudden, on the verge of tears. He
bent over as if in pain.

“Your Grace, when I saw you dancing in the
ballroom my heart burst wide open,” he confessed, leaning back on
the pillar. “I have always loved your mother. I wanted to marry
her, but my father contracted me to another,” he revealed, suddenly
doubling over in pain. “My wife died just recently,” he gushed,
holding his abdomen, “And I have never shed a tear.”

“Never shed a tear for your own wife?”
Gwendolyn repeated in disbelief.

“No,” he continued to weep, “Not one. The
only grief I have ever felt was the day I heard of Mary’s passing—I
loved her so.”

He bent over and cried in his hands and
Gwendolyn reached out for the man, placing her hand on his
shoulder. His soul shattered into a million pieces. She never
wanted to be in that position…and vowed to never be. “Baron Huxton,
you’ll be glad to know that my mother did indeed love you in
return.”

The Baron’s surprised elated look brought
tears to Gwendolyn’s own eyes. “She—she did?”

Gwendolyn nodded her head in confirmation.
Baron Huxton was so elated; he grabbed Gwendolyn into his arms and
held her there.

“What am I interrupting now?”

Gwendolyn and the Baron immediately broke
apart. Within seeing the host in the doorway, Baron Huxton
repositioned his stance and coughed away his grief.

“Nothing happened Thomas; this one does not
concern you.”

“Everything concerns me Gwendolyn when a lack
of decorum is not met under my roof,” Thomas stated, his eyes full
of annoyance and rage staring straight at Baron Huxton. Thomas
doesn’t like the Baron either; he used to push his spoiled
daughter, Joan into his sphere.

Gwendolyn noted the intense expression on his
face and immediately walked over to Thomas and placed her palm in
the center of his chest. In a calm, gentle voice, she uttered, “We
were talking about my mother,” Gwendolyn expressed gazing at the
Baron now. “I was just telling the Baron where the memorial was…in
Yorkshire, remember Baron Huxton? In the graveyard, at St. Paul
Church?”

Baron Huxton’s eyes lit up and nodded his
head in appreciation. “Yes,” he agreed, “Yes, we were discussing
just that,” he verbalized, stiffening back up and walking around
the two.

Thomas looked down at Gwendolyn still
infuriated. He wanted to devour her, brutal passion still riding
him hard.

Gwendolyn closed her mouth once more and
stepped away from him, creating a much-needed distance between
their obsessions. His sudden burst of protectiveness was a bit
overwhelming and Gwendolyn did not know how much more she could
take without giving into her need to be intimate with him. She was
on the verge of doing something she would definitely
regret…something, oh so reckless.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

“Lady Hollinger, what was your cousin like
when he was a child?”

They were sitting down to formal dinner,
another couple, besides Lord and Lady Hale were invited to the
small affair. Gwendolyn looked up from her strawberry tart to
address Lady Evelyn Moore. She was a striking young brunette with
dreamy blue eyes whose family married her off to a titled husband
for wealth. Her husband, Lord Curtis Moore, the Earl of Trenton,
being seventy winters her elder.

Gwendolyn smiled down at her dessert, so many
memories dashed inside her head; she doesn’t quite know which one
to focus on. How lucky, she thought, to have shared a past with
someone whom everyone wanted to be familiar with. She thought about
all the fun they used to have, like the time she and Thomas both
had loose teeth and decided to yank each other’s out with strings,
or the frightened memoirs reminiscent of when they went sailing in
her father’s cruiser and the wind blew them offshore, fifty
kilometers away from port. Thomas had to use his skills he learned
from his brother about utilizing the wind speed to his lead and
navigated them back to safety. She remembered how grateful she was
and crushed the life out of Tommy when they got to shore. Funny,
how you suppress the contented recollections and only memorize the
unpleasant ones. Then, her fifteenth birthday, she does recall that
now…

~~~~~

I was sitting at the table with a group of
girls my age. We were all giggling and pointing at the boys across
the room. We were eating my birthday cake, when one of the girls,
Joan, a girl who spent most of her time in the country with her
mother, spurted out, “How do I get Jordan Hollinger to pay any
attention to me?”

“Oh Joan,” one girl complained, “The only
girls he pays any attention to are the ones that are rumored to
give into his seduction.”

“And how, pray tell, do you know any of
this?” Joan asked with one brown eyebrow high in the air.

“Heard it whispered last month,” The girl
nonchalantly assumed, “Unknown if there is any weight behind the
gossip, but look at him, how any girl cannot succumb to his
disposition!” She giggled profusely, causing all the other girls,
including myself to take another look at Jordan’s outward show.

Surrounded by ladies of every social class,
Jordan kept the females interested with his dry wit and external
charm. He was too vain, I concluded immediately, until he caught me
staring at him as well and his temporary curiosity caused me to
roll my eyes to catch Joan staring into another direction.

“Who’s that boy over there?”

“Who?” Another girl asked.

“That one, over there, the boy with the dark
hair, who is he?”

I finally turned my head to see whom she was
speaking about, I could not tell. The only boys I could see en
route of her pointing finger with dark hair were Adam and
Tommy.

“Oh, Joan, you know who that is? Why, that’s
Jordan Hollinger’s younger brother!” I heard the girl squeal. “He
is so handsome; he is similar to his older sibling.”

Joan’s eyes lit up in wonder, “Really? So,
he’s our age then? With no unsuitable reputation?”

“Yes,” that squeaky girl shrilled, “He is
also very sweet, you would like him, he has the most gorgeous blue
eyes.”

I stared at the both of them. What the heck
was going on? Did the sugar from the frosting on the cake go to
their heads? Have they lost their minds from eating bad fruit?
“Green,” I said, which made them both turn my way. “Tommy’s eyes
are green.”

Joan asked amazed, “So you know the
Hollinger’s?”

“Haven’t you heard? They’re family friends,”
Squeaky spurted out matter-of-factly.

“And you have been sitting there silent as a
church mouse and haven’t gushed your acquaintance?” She quipped,
slapping my hand that was in my lap, “Shame on you.” She then
quickly turned her head to consider Tommy once again, only this
instance, took her time at it. “Do you think you can introduce me?”
She asked me now with puppy dog eyes. I watched her face turn from
mine and followed her eyes to see if I could figure out what she
found so fascinating. Tommy and Adam were side by side, both of
them the same height with their arms animated out in front of them
in conversation, they looked normal to me, and so non-fascinating.
I turned back to Joan and her face was still absorbed.

“Oh Joan, do you think you have set your cap
for him?” I heard Squeaky inquire.

I viewed Joan slowly nod her head yes, and
just like that, I couldn’t believe it. A threat invaded my special
comradeship. I didn’t want her setting her cap for him. I didn’t
want anyone setting anything on him. Tommy belonged to me. I got up
from my seat and marched over to where the boys’ stood. Not caring
that I left the girls dumbfounded with my abrupt rudeness, but on a
mission, a conquering urge to protect what was mine. Arriving
quickly at my intended target, I yanked at the back of his collar
and motioned for Tommy to come and follow me to a nearby
corner.

“See that girl over there, no, don’t look her
way, I think she likes you,” I said, trying to figure out why my
heart swelled up beyond comprehension.

“The blonde girl?” Tommy asked, gazing over
at her. He appeared to give Joan too much inspection, as I watched
his eyes turn from inquisitive to interested. “What is her name?
She is kind of cute.”

“Cute?” I remarked, gazing over at her
myself. I tried to figure out what he found so fascinating. Long
blonde hair, dark brown eyes, she was even wearing the same style
of dress I wore. “She is Baron Huxton’s daughter, Joan. Why, do you
like her?” I asked, feeling the beats in my heart beginning to
escalate.

“I don’t know...do you think I should go talk
to her?”

I stared at Tommy still looking in her
direction. Could not believe that he would leave me to go and speak
to a stranger. My heart hurt now. It got large, swollen, and kept
beating in an unpleasant, stubborn way. Just then, I wanted to
injure him just as much as he was wounding me. “Go ahead, I am
going to go and talk to Barry Abernathy anyway.”

Tommy closed the space between us and stared
me down. Squinting his eyes in annoyance, he voiced, “Barry
Abernathy? Why, he’s Andrew’s age. What would a chap like Barry
show interest in a child like you?”

With my hands on my hips, I twisted my lips,
“He’s already shown interest in me you nitwit—he’s practically
glued to my heel,” I retorted, walking away from him. “Watch.” In
the corner of my eye, I could see him; Barry Abernathy, so tall,
with wide shoulders, two years older than I. I could not understand
why he was so fascinated, having never been introduced to him
before. The farther I walked away, the farther Barry would follow
me. I turned to see if Tommy was following me as well, and he
wasn’t? I stopped cold and watched him pace over to Joan and
Squeaky to introduce himself. A bizarre darting pang pierced
through my heart…he was not allowed to honor her wishes! Upon my
huff, I noticed in my peripheral view that Barry was still within
arm’s length. I decided to see how far he would chase me and
scampered over to the horse stables. I knew I was without a
chaperone, but I didn’t care. That throbbing ache inside my chest
would not go away.

“See now,” I heard him say, “Slow down, I
cannot talk to you if you do not slow down.”

I turned around; I didn’t realize I was
running! “What?” I asked, my arms draped across my chest in a
standoff. My heart started to beat ungovernably now, realizing that
we were alone, inside the stable with no one else but
horseflesh.

“Happy birthday, Gwendolyn,” Barry quietly
voiced, stepping into me, rapidly stealing all my air.

“Th-thank you,” I said, wondering what the
glint in his eyes, meant. I stepped backwards, turned around and
walked in farther into the stables. “Have you seen the horse my
father gave me? The Arabian?” I asked sheepishly, hearing his
footsteps behind me. They were like echoing, thunderous sounds
inside my thumping ears. I halted at the hatchway, and in a flash,
the gelding trotted over to me for a petting. “Isn’t she
beautiful?” I asked, stroking the horse’s mane and then gazing over
at Barry.

He was staring right at me; looking at me in
an irregular way. “Yes,” I heard him say in a low tone, “Yes, she
is.”

I noticed him reaching for me and I wanted to
run, but my legs would not move. I was spellbound, he was going to
kiss me, but I still could not move! Suddenly, his hands were on my
waist…dear God, he was touching me, and he did not even ask.
Swiftly, Barry enclosed the space between us and I felt his warm
hand on the edge of my breast, his other hand grabbed at my neck
and before he finished his attempt at tasting me, Tommy came out of
nowhere and toppled Barry horizontal.