To Capture Her Heart (7 page)

“Gavin, I was wrong, so wrong. I loved you, I was just confused. Please, can't we try again?”

“Nay.” His word was final as he shouldered his way past her, angrily knocking her off of her feet as he went.

He was completely blinded by his anger as he walked from the inn. As soon as he disappeared, Clarice drew herself up from the floor, the tears in her eyes drying up almost magically as she muttered under her breath. “I hate you Gavin Dekever.”

Chapter 9

A Stolen Kiss

Gwendolyn had spent the entire morning pouring over her grandfather Richard's journals. He had possessed the gift of transporting, having the ability to magically travel to any location he imagined with merely a thought. Terric had acquired the gift, though he never fully realized or developed it before deflecting it unknowingly to Rosalind. She had spent many hours with Rosalind figuring out the key to unlocking her gift and helping her refine her talent. Gwendolyn had made no effort to hide her envy of the gift.

Her goal in pouring over her grandfather's journals was to find somebody, anybody in the family who may have possessed another type of gift, one that mayhap she could have inherited. So far, she had spent hours on end trying to decipher his hardly legible handwriting only to be rewarded with the most nonsensical stories of his own experiences transporting. He rarely mentioned another soul. Feeling disheartened, she slammed the most recent journal she had been scouring down and rose from her position on the floor.

She stretched from side to side in an attempt to loosen some of the stiffness from her body before she ventured outside to find something to occupy herself. She couldn't seem to fight the loneliness she had been feeling ever since returning to Emerson Castle without Rosalind. She wondered how she ever managed the last several years with only her mother for company without going insane.

Walking along the side of the castle, she ran her hands along the gray brick, feeling the cool roughness of the stones against her fingertips, which occasionally brushed up against bits of moss growing between the stones. Eventually, she found herself standing at the steps that led down to the moat. Placing a steadying hand on the balustrade, she lifted her dress and began descending. As soon as she reached the bottom, she crouched down and undid the rope that held a small boat in place. Centering herself in the boat, she grabbed an oar and began paddling gently through the water. After a while, she replaced the oar in the boat and stretched out on her back, gazing up at the willow tree that dripped it's branches into the space above the moat.

Gwendolyn felt the metal heart necklace slide down the side of her neck and automatically reached for it, bringing it before her face. She looked down at the simple piece of jewelry and thought once more of Jarin. It had been nearly a week since she had ventured into the village, since the day he had gifted her with the token in an attempt to cheer her, and possibly gain her affections. She had purposely been avoiding going back to the village, worried that he might take her appearance as an eagerness to see him.

Not for the first time, she wondered why she didn't have any sort of feelings for him. He had always been so kind, and when he had tied the necklace to her neck, the feel of his fingers brushing up against her sensitive skin had had no effect on her. None. She knew that as soon as she was granted her entrance, her family would be anxious to find her a suitable husband. It was just the way that things were done. Mayhap she hadn't been trying hard enough with Jarin.

These unsettling thoughts swirled through her mind, gently lolling her into a deep sleep. In her dreams she was at Herfordshire Castle, anxiously trying to find Terric and Rosalind, a sense of foreboding filling her breast as she ran down every corridor in an attempt to locate them. But it was as if she was in a confusing maze, each corridor extending into a never-ending abyss leading nowhere. She ran as fast as she could, but the further she got, the further away she'd get from them. She never saw them, but she sensed it deep inside of her. Intense frustration furled within her, causing her muscles to become taut as anxiety gripped her heart. She had to get to Terric and Rosalind before it was too late.

Rounding a bend, another long corridor stretched before her. Breathing hard, she pushed herself to run faster than she ever had before, but it was all to no avail. Suddenly she collided with a solid object. Looking up, she expected to see that she had come to a dead end, but instead, familiar brown eyes were searching her face, kindly willing her to be calm. Her heartbeat began to slow as Gavin whispered intensely, “I will save them. You have to trust me.” She shook her head vigorously, knowing she had no other choice if she ever wished to see Terric and Rosalind alive again.

But though her heartbeat had momentarily slowed down, it wasn't meant to last long. Gavin bent forward and pressed a petal soft kiss to her lips, causing a scorching heat to whirl within her. Her heart began beating erratically. For a moment, she forgot all about the danger her family was in. Opening her eyes ever so slowly, she forced herself to pull back from the intoxicating kiss and barely managed to whisper, “You must go. Hurry.”

“I cannot leave, at least until I tell you the news.”

Gwendolyn's eyes snapped open as Jarin's voice infringed upon her dream. His face was barely an inch above her own as he sat next to her in the boat. She sprung up from where she was lying, hitting her head against his own in the process. Jarin jerked back in pain, swiftly losing his balance. His arms began to flail wildly, and before she knew what was happening, the boat began to tip, forcing both of them into the frigid water of the moat.

Gwendolyn gasped as her head was pulled quickly under the water. The weight of her wet dress threatened to pull her down and keep her under. She fought with all her strength to break through the surface, inhaling a much needed breath of fresh air. Wiping the water from her eyes, she squinted them angrily at Jarin who was treading water a few feet away.

“What were you thinking?” she screamed at him, furious for his intrusion on her privacy.

She couldn't even comprehend why seeing his face in front of hers instead of Gavin's when she awoke infuriated her so badly, but it did, possibly even more so than being dumped so suddenly into the moat.

Before he could even answer, she was screaming at him again. “Did you kiss me?” She knew the answer by the deep shade of red his face suddenly turned.

“How dare you,” she continued. “What were you thinking?” The thought of him taking a kiss without her permission galled her to no end. Her first kiss had been stolen from her.

Jarin stuttered out an apology, but Gwendolyn paid him no mind. She quickly swam to the side of the moat and hoisted herself inelegantly onto the swampy shore beneath the willow tree, peeling her sopping dress away from her body, ever aware that it was clinging to her frame immodestly. Jarin was close behind her. Pulling himself from the water, he sat down next to her which only made her more mad. She quickly stood up and made to leave.

“Don't go. I have something important to tell you,” he pleaded.

“Jarin, you just rudely kissed me without permission, then proceeded to tip me into the moat. What makes you think I give a fig about anything you have to say right now?”

“I'm sorry for that, truly I am. I was so excited to see you and to tell you what I found out, that I begged my father to allow me to leave the shop for a few hours so I could come tell you myself. As I approached the castle I saw you asleep in the boat. It had found its way to the shore. You looked so still, at first it frightened me. I came to see if you were well. I climbed in the boat with you to check on you, but it soon become apparent that you were only sleeping. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, I just couldn't help myself,” his speech tapered off as he hung his head in embarrassment and mumbled, “Please forgive me.”

Gwendolyn stiffened her shoulders and titled her chin haughtily. “Well if you ever desire to kiss me again, I insist you ask me first.”

“May I kiss you?” He surprised her by asking boldly.

“Nay!” She squealed.

“Mayhap later?”

“Mayhap never.” How could he believe she'd ever kiss him again after that?

“Now if you don't mind, I'm going to catch a chill if I do not get out of these wet clothes. You best return to the shop before your father gets angry.”

Jarin rose swiftly. “I will let you go, but not until I tell you what I came for. I overheard some people talking in the village. They appeared to be traveling gypsies for I had never seen them before. They were talking about a magic festival that is held every year in the forest near Herfordshire Castle.”

“And this interests me why?” She was still mad at his odious behavior and refused to let him know that indeed her curiosity was piqued.

He stepped closer. “Gwendolyn, do not be daft. It's a magical festival. Magic. All sorts of people come from all over the Kingdom, people with special gifts. Sorcerers, magicians, gifted folk. I thought that mayhap you'd like to go, that mayhap you might be able to find out what your gift is if you were surrounded by people who were in possession of so many different gifts themselves.” His face was eager, hopeful as he searched hers for any sort of positive reaction.

“When is it to be held?” she asked passively, still concealing her interest from him.

“In a month's time.”

Her mind raced with the possibilities. She knew she couldn't simply ask her mother permission to go, she'd never grant it. She crossed her arms as she began to shiver. “Thank you for the information. I will think on it. Good day.”

Turning from him, she began to jog towards the castle entrance, her wet skirts making it hard to go fast. She could feel Jarin's eyes on her as she left and it made her cringe. Though she was grateful that he took the time to come to her and tell her of the festival, her excitement couldn't completely dispel her annoyance at him for kissing her. She felt as if he had tainted something reverent that she had shared with Gavin.

She had to place her shaking hands on the heavy wooden door in front of her for support. Closing her eyes she exhaled deeply. It had only been a dream. Terric and Rosalind were not in danger. Gavin hadn't truly kissed her. But the magic festival was not a dream, and that's what she would choose to concentrate on.

Pulling her dripping wet hair over one shoulder, she pushed the door open and entered the Great Hall. Her mother looked up from the book she was reading. “Gwendolyn, whatever happened? Come sit by the fire and warm yourself before you catch a chill.”

Grumbling she said, “'Tis truly silly. I accidentally fell from the boat as I was trying to get onto shore.” She wouldn't tell her mother that Jarin had been there.

Millicent quickly rose and retrieved a thick woolen blanket from a trunk. She hurried over to where Gwendolyn was making a puddle on the floor and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, directing her towards the heat of the fire.

“I think I will go upstairs and change. I will never get warm with these dreadfully wet clothes still on.”

“But of course. I will have the servants make you something hot to drink.”

Gwendolyn fled up the stairs to her chamber, wasting no time in stripping her wet clothing from her frame. She let them fall haphazardly to the floor in a soaking lump. She rummaged through her chest of drawers to find a clean chemise and a simple muslin gown died a bright yellow color. She deftly braided her hair then let it hang down the middle of her back as she anxiously returned to her mother and the fire that promised to warm her.

Curled up before the fire with a steaming cup of barely tea in her hands, Gwendolyn let her mind wander to the magic festival. She had never traveled into the forest's bordering Darth, but if anything could provoke her to do so, it was this. Her mind was filled with excitement at the thought of so many magical, gifted people in one location. Surely she could learn about gifts that she had never even heard existed. Mayhap if she truly did not possess a gift, there would be a magical skill that she could learn. The possibilities were endless. She simply had to find a way to go.

Taking a drink of her tea, she felt the warm liquid travel the entire way down her throat and into her belly. “Mother?”

Millicent once more looked up from the book that she had resumed reading. “Yes, dear?”

“Have you spoken with Terric to arrange my entrance?”

Millicent's eyes sparkled with mirth. “Why the sudden interest in your entrance? I thought you were in no hurry for it to take place. Could it be you have taken an interest in a young lad?”

“Nay, 'tis not that at all,” Gwendolyn argued. “'Tis just that I find that I am missing Rosalind dreadfully and am eager to travel back to Hefordshire Castle to see her.” At least that part was true. She would feel bad lying to her mother outright.

“I will write to Terric and set a date.”

“I will take it to the village posthaste and find somebody to deliver it.”

Her mother laughed at her fervor. “Are you sure you haven't taken a sudden interest in some lad? I've never seen you so eager to speak of your entrance before.”

“Positive,” she said, but the broad smile that she couldn't manage to hide behind her mug of tea did little to convince her mother otherwise.

Chapter 10

Gwendolyn's Grand Plan

Gwendolyn snatched the parchment from her mother's hand, anxious to be on her way.

“Careful child,” Millicent scolded gently. “The ink hasn't yet dried. You will smear it if you are not careful.”

Gwendolyn waived the sheet of parchment impatiently in front of her as she waited for the ink to dry just enough so she could fold the missive into thirds and tuck it safely into her satchel next to the note she had written Terric herself. In it she had pleaded with him to schedule her entrance for three weeks’ time. That would give her just enough time to travel deep into the forest to attend the festival. She was not going to miss it. She refused to think of what she would do if he refused to schedule her entrance so soon.