Read Online Cavendish Brothers 01 - An Unintended Journey by Catherine Gayle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Catherine Gayle
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black.”
“ Oh,” the auburn-haired lady exclaimed. “Yes, the lady in mourning? I believe she’s in the courtyard—”
The girl was still talking, but Wesley rushed away from her. “I’m sorry, but I must find her!” he called out over his shoulder, not even slowing to say that much. He barreled through the walkways and bolted out a side door, then skidded to a stop.
Abby was sitting in the courtyard beneath a frozen rose trellis. Both she and the trellis were covered in a light dusting of snowflakes. He took a step towards her and his Hessians crunched against the ground. Her head shot up, and she saw him.
“ Abby?” he said softly.
She brushed a lone tear aside with her gloved hand and turned away from him.
He couldn’t let her hide. Not now. Not when he could finally bare his heart to her. Wesley closed the distance between them and took a seat next to her on the stone bench. The warmth of her body heated him through. “Abby?” he said, more softly this time, somehow controlling his voice even whilst his pulse raced through his veins like the rapids rushing out to sea.
She sniffed and stared resolutely down at the folded hands on her lap.
With a single finger, he tipped her chin up until her hazel eyes—so full of hurt and grief and love and fear—were on a level with his. “May we talk?”
“ What is there to discuss, Mr. Cavendish?” she choked out, though she kept her tears at bay. Her breath coiled out in harsh bursts, like smoke in the chilled air.
“ Wesley.” He chucked her beneath the chin, much as he used to do when she was a young girl chasing after her brothers. “You’ve called me Wesley for many years now.”
That brought the familiar flash of fire to her eyes. He refrained from unleashing a celebratory smile.
“ Yes. I also thought, for many years now, that you cared for me. That you might someday come back for me. That you intended to keep the promises you made to me all those years ago.” She inched away from him on the bench. “It seems I was also a gauche fool these many years.”
Abby started to rise, but he took her hands in his own and tugged, keeping her seated.
“ You are no fool, Abigail Goddard.”
She shook her head and laughed half-heartedly. “I am! I thought you would find a way—that we could find a way…” This time, she successfully separated herself from him, moving to stand beneath a holly wreath in the archway. “Tell me, will you marry Lady Isabel? She’s quite pretty, you know. I met her briefly on my way down here, and she seemed a perfectly lovely lady, a bit young, perhaps, but very well spoken.” Abby spun around again, somewhat wild-eyed. “Or will it be one of his other granddaughters? His Grace has a fair few.”
Stepping towards her, he shook his head.
“ No? Well, I’m sure you needn’t wait too long for whoever she is. Lady Isabel mentioned that her grandfather had commanded them all to descend upon the castle for Christmas. Perhaps if he sends someone out for a license, you can be married before the end of the holiday.”
He was close enough to touch her. Cautiously, Wesley reached out and took her hand. She tugged against him, but not hard enough to pull away.
“ There is no need to send anyone to fetch a license,” he murmured. “We’ll be marrying tomorrow morning.”
A great torrent welled in her eyes and spilled over. “Tomorrow?” Abby tugged harder against him, but he wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever again. “So soon?”
“ Not nearly soon enough.”
She gasped and a wave of pain shuddered through her, so volatile as to be visible. “Unhand me. Right this instant.”
But he couldn’t. He was powerless to stop the need to hold her. Wesley dropped his hands to her waist and drew her close, as he’d done so many years ago and as he’d longed to do every moment since. Abby pressed against his shoulders, but she was no match for him. With each shove of her balled up fists, he drew her in more
“ Oh,” the auburn-haired lady exclaimed. “Yes, the lady in mourning? I believe she’s in the courtyard—”
The girl was still talking, but Wesley rushed away from her. “I’m sorry, but I must find her!” he called out over his shoulder, not even slowing to say that much. He barreled through the walkways and bolted out a side door, then skidded to a stop.
Abby was sitting in the courtyard beneath a frozen rose trellis. Both she and the trellis were covered in a light dusting of snowflakes. He took a step towards her and his Hessians crunched against the ground. Her head shot up, and she saw him.
“ Abby?” he said softly.
She brushed a lone tear aside with her gloved hand and turned away from him.
He couldn’t let her hide. Not now. Not when he could finally bare his heart to her. Wesley closed the distance between them and took a seat next to her on the stone bench. The warmth of her body heated him through. “Abby?” he said, more softly this time, somehow controlling his voice even whilst his pulse raced through his veins like the rapids rushing out to sea.
She sniffed and stared resolutely down at the folded hands on her lap.
With a single finger, he tipped her chin up until her hazel eyes—so full of hurt and grief and love and fear—were on a level with his. “May we talk?”
“ What is there to discuss, Mr. Cavendish?” she choked out, though she kept her tears at bay. Her breath coiled out in harsh bursts, like smoke in the chilled air.
“ Wesley.” He chucked her beneath the chin, much as he used to do when she was a young girl chasing after her brothers. “You’ve called me Wesley for many years now.”
That brought the familiar flash of fire to her eyes. He refrained from unleashing a celebratory smile.
“ Yes. I also thought, for many years now, that you cared for me. That you might someday come back for me. That you intended to keep the promises you made to me all those years ago.” She inched away from him on the bench. “It seems I was also a gauche fool these many years.”
Abby started to rise, but he took her hands in his own and tugged, keeping her seated.
“ You are no fool, Abigail Goddard.”
She shook her head and laughed half-heartedly. “I am! I thought you would find a way—that we could find a way…” This time, she successfully separated herself from him, moving to stand beneath a holly wreath in the archway. “Tell me, will you marry Lady Isabel? She’s quite pretty, you know. I met her briefly on my way down here, and she seemed a perfectly lovely lady, a bit young, perhaps, but very well spoken.” Abby spun around again, somewhat wild-eyed. “Or will it be one of his other granddaughters? His Grace has a fair few.”
Stepping towards her, he shook his head.
“ No? Well, I’m sure you needn’t wait too long for whoever she is. Lady Isabel mentioned that her grandfather had commanded them all to descend upon the castle for Christmas. Perhaps if he sends someone out for a license, you can be married before the end of the holiday.”
He was close enough to touch her. Cautiously, Wesley reached out and took her hand. She tugged against him, but not hard enough to pull away.
“ There is no need to send anyone to fetch a license,” he murmured. “We’ll be marrying tomorrow morning.”
A great torrent welled in her eyes and spilled over. “Tomorrow?” Abby tugged harder against him, but he wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Not ever again. “So soon?”
“ Not nearly soon enough.”
She gasped and a wave of pain shuddered through her, so volatile as to be visible. “Unhand me. Right this instant.”
But he couldn’t. He was powerless to stop the need to hold her. Wesley dropped his hands to her waist and drew her close, as he’d done so many years ago and as he’d longed to do every moment since. Abby pressed against his shoulders, but she was no match for him. With each shove of her balled up fists, he drew her in more
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