Anne Herries - The Lord's Forced Bride

It would be far better simply to forget that he had ever seen the girl. It was a chance meeting, no more. He had felt something as he swept her off her feet, her own special perfume filling his nostrils, but no matter. To become involved with the daughter of Melford would bring bitter recriminations from his mother and involve endless trouble. His friendship with her brother could continue, but Catherine was not for him.

No, he must simply put her out of his mind…and yet in his heart he knew that would not be a simple thing to do, for somehow she had found a way to inflame his senses as no other woman ever had.

Catherine rose early the next morning. At home it was often her habit to ride or walk before she broke her fast. She did not wish to ride—she had ridden a long way the previous day—but a walk in the gardens would help to ease the stiffness in her limbs.

She wrapped herself in the dark blue velvet cloak she had worn for travelling, pulling the hood up over her head to keep out the chill wind that had blown up that morning. She decided to walk to the end of the parterre and then return. It was not so very far and yet it would give her an appetite.

She had discovered one white rose grimly clinging to life amongst the sheltered walks, and was bending to see if it had any perfume when she heard the crunch of someone walking on the gravel paths and glanced round. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the earl coming towards her.

‘Good morning, Mistress Melford,’ he said, his eyes moving over her. ‘I see you have also been taking the air?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Catherine replied. ‘I like to walk or ride in the mornings before I eat—and I rode far enough yesterday.’

‘You had quite a journey,’ Andrew agreed, his mouth curving slightly at the corners. Something about her made his heart race, causing him to forget his determination to put her from his mind. ‘You will feel stiff this morning, I dare say?’

‘Yes, a little,’ Catherine agreed. ‘We shall stay here for two days to rest the horses and ourselves.’

‘You are with friends,’ Andrew said. ‘I was glad of a place to stay last night, but I must go on today.’

‘Oh, must you…?’ Catherine was disappointed and she blushed as she knew it was evident in her tone. ‘I suppose you have business in London?’

‘None that is important,’ Andrew said. ‘But I must not impose on your friends. It was good of them to offer me hospitality for the night, but I cannot stay longer.’

‘No, I suppose not,’ Catherine said reluctantly. She looked at him and then away again quickly, because she did not wish him to see that she was affected by him. ‘Perhaps we shall meet again at court, sir?’

‘Yes, I am sure we shall,’ Andrew said. He moved forward, impulsively plucking the rose and giving it to her. ‘It is a shame to leave it to the frosts when it might do better at your breast. You outshine any rose, Mistress Melford. I shall think of you here as I ride on.’

‘Oh…’ The blush rose in her cheeks. ‘You should not say such things to me, sir.’

‘Should I not, Catherine?’ he asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes. ‘I dare say others will say far more once you are at court. You must take care, for there are rogues even amongst the King’s court.’ He bowed to her elegantly. ‘I wish you a safe journey and shall look forward to meeting you again.’

Catherine watched as he walked away from her. Her heart was beating very fast and she knew that she was smiling. She held the rose to her nose, inhaling its perfume. A strange warmth curled inside her, pooling low down in her abdomen. He made her feel so very odd, with a tingling sensation down her spine. What bold eyes he had! She thought that he was almost too attractive—perhaps a little dangerous—and she wished that she knew why his visit had seemed to make her mother uneasy. She was beginning to like him rather a lot, and she was not sure that it was a good idea to let herself think of the Earl of Gifford too often.

He was handsome and she found him attractive. He had shown her gallantry, but nothing in his manner had given her cause to hope that he intended more than a casual flirtation.

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