Dare To Love (33 page)

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Authors: Trisha Fuentes

Tags: #historical, #funny, #thomas, #humorous, #maritime, #dare, #gwen

BOOK: Dare To Love
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Be convincing will you! He petitioned for her
compassion by staring at her some more but it was no use, he had to
settle for her friendship and his anxiety was overwhelming. Maybe
things were better left unsaid? No, he had to find the nerve to ask
her.

 

“May I…may I ask you something?”

 

“Yes, of course, what?” Gwendolyn then
blinked out of her haze. Something was not quite right. Why was he
so sad? Why did he seem so lost? What was so wrong? Something was
misplaced…someone was missing. She looked beyond him before saying,
“Where is Katrina?”

 

Thomas swallowed his anguish and looked at
her strangely, “Katrina?” He asked surprised now, “Why, she is…she
is back with Henry, where else would she be?”

 

“Henry?” Gwendolyn asked taken-back, “Why is
she with him?”

 

Thomas shook his head and realized that the
two of them were on different spectrums. “Because he is her
husband, that’s why.”

 

“What!” Gwendolyn bellowed, scaring the baby
within her arms again. Her son began to wail.

 

Poking his finger in his ear and jiggling it,
Thomas pronounced, “Oh my—he is a loud little thing.”

 

“You have no idea,” Gwendolyn returned,
trying to shush the baby down. “…So you did not marry her?” She
asked wide-eyed, holding her son’s head up to her neck, shushing
him continuously.

 

Thomas glanced away and eyed the furniture
again. How was he ever going to get that courage back to ask her
why she married her farmer? “We did not marry,” he let go hopeless,
turning around then closing his eyes in frustration.

 

Gwendolyn looked at his backside with round
eyes. “But…but, I thought you wanted to marry her…I expected to see
you, but, well since I had not heard from you, I thought you had
found a way to proceed with the matrimony. Only seeing you together
at Scarborough did I get my confirmation.”

 

Thomas tilted towards Gwendolyn and his heart
pounded oddly at the sight of her eyes beginning to water. All his
festering incertitude vanished. “I explained everything to you in
the letter Gwendolyn.”

 

“What letter?” Gwendolyn asked while kissing
her son’s forehead. He was finally calm, and babbled within her
grasp.

 

What letter?! Thomas’ heart began to thump in
his ears now. “The one that was addressed to you with the gift I
sent for Mary. It was placed under the string with Mary’s note, did
you not read it?”

 

Gwendolyn then realized what he was speaking
of. “Inside the treasure chest? Are you sure? With Mary’s
enthusiasm—oh no—she pulled so many things out of the trunk at
once, it must have fallen back in.”

 

Thomas began to panic, “Good God Gwendolyn,
so you did not read the letter? And your marriage—and his son—could
have been prevented!”

 

“My marriage? And…his son?”

 

“By Mr. McMillen.”

 

Gwendolyn closed her mouth and began to walk
into another room. Thomas watched her tramp away and began to
follow her from room to room searching for something. It was such
an awkward hunt; he noted continuously, she was not able to move
many things, what with the baby still in her arms. Bending down
with one fluid hand she shuffled through papers, making a horrible
mess and he watched her do this several times; in the parlor…and
out the sitting room, in the sewing room…and out the dining area.
When he finally had enough of her inelegance, he blurted out, “Slow
down, you are going to drop the infant.”

 

Gwendolyn spun around and offered Thomas the
baby. “Here, you hold him. I need to find that letter.”

 

Thomas reluctantly took the baby and uneasily
held him out in front of him. His heart began to break just holding
that farmer’s child within his hands. But then the babe looked up
at him and with ample green eyes the son’s mirror image impaired
him like a thunderbolt. Through choked emotion, Thomas carefully
peeled back the blanket that draped over his head and ran his thumb
over the infant’s black hair. Instantly closing his eyes, he
brought the boy lovingly into his chest. His answer was here…He had
it all along…His prayers were fulfilled and through tear filled
eyes, he observed Gwendolyn pull out the letter from the bottom of
the treasure trunk and began ripping it open. “Gwen—”

 

“Not yet Thomas—” she snapped cutting him off
and then it hit her. Here…all along, was the response to all her
endless perplexity, the reasons why he stayed away, the motivation
to all her insanity. But somehow, as she gazed up to look at Thomas
now smiling down at his son, what she desired to know did not seem
all that important compared to what she suspected needed to be
revealed. “I could not marry him,” Gwendolyn set free, clearing her
nose into her skirts. “I could not marry one man when I was in love
with another.” Gwendolyn then pulled off her soiled apron and
bunched it up into a ball. “I love you Thomas,” she whimpered
freely, “I don’t think I have ever told you that. I love you, Lord
Thomas Albert Hollinger, III. I have loved you since you rescued us
on that day we drifted away from port. Loved you even more when you
saved me from a tarnishing situation on my fifteenth birthday…fell
head over heels for you on our wedding night…and, heaven help me…
my heart is bursting with love for you at this very moment. I love
you, love you, and love you Thomas…are you listening to me?”

 

Nathaniel’s tiny hand had wrapped around his
father’s index finger and Thomas bent over and kissed his little
forehead. Upon closing his eyes, he continued to caress the baby’s
head with his cheek and softly voiced, “Read the letter
Gwendolyn.”

 

Gwendolyn found a seat and tore the letter
open immediately.

 

 

My Darling Gwendolyn,

I hope this letter reaches you before your
joining to Mr. McMillen. I had the messenger send my gifts
prematurely, in anticipation that it will arrive on time.

My sweet, sweet girl…I have been in love with
you since the day you helped me back to the manor with my broken
arm. Our persistent friendship only a vantage to the affection I
held for you. No second thoughts here Gwendolyn, you are the first
thing I think of at daybreak, and my last attention upon nightfall.
Too many years have been spent apart from the one person who always
eased a smile to my lips. Seeing you again made me realize how much
I need you and without you to share my life with, then I might as
well have drowned.

My pledge to Katrina will no longer be
official once you have read this. I am calling off the wedding
because I am without end your devoted husband. I love you, love you
and love you Gwendolyn. Come back to Wilderbrand, bring our
daughter and wake up in my arms.

I wait with baited breath upon hearing your
reply.

Yours Evermore, Thomas

P. S. The horse’s name is “Desire”, but Mary
can change it if she so pleases.

 

 

Gwendolyn dropped the letter to the floor and
buried her face within her hands, crying from jubilant release, she
allowed her tears to happily drop down the sides of her cheeks. “I
love you too, Thomas.”

 

Thomas did not bother to look her way and
continued to make funny faces at the baby. “I know…”

 

“You know?”

 

Thomas mouthed out the words “ I know” to the
baby and his son gurgled at him as he smiled.

 

Gwendolyn walked over to them and shook her
head at Thomas’ obvious self-assuredness; “His name is Nathaniel by
the way...after my brother.”

 

Thomas persisted on with his entertaining;
his son reacting to his father’s every comical expression. “Nice
name, I like it.”

 

“But his ordained name is Lord Nathaniel
Kenneth Hollinger…Earl of Suffolkshire, Marques Hollinger and
Viscount of Wilderbrand.”

 

Thomas grinned into the baby, “I know…those
are my eyes looking up at me.”

 

Gwendolyn gave up and began to smile; she
stepped into Thomas and placed her hand on his back. Looking down
at her bubbling boy, she expressed, “Your father is such an
arrogant man, Nattie.”

 

“And this arrogant man is—profoundly— in love
with his mother,” Thomas adoringly expressed, meeting her teary
eyes, leaning over to give Gwendolyn a gentle kiss on her lips,
increasingly ardent and tenderly yielded.

 

They pulled apart and stared at one another,
bringing forth-longer tears. Gwendolyn then wrapped her arms around
his neck and buried her face into his throat and sniveled, “Where
were you?”

 

Thomas lowered his head and kissed Gwendolyn
on the side of her neck. “Devin and I were detained, marooned
actually, in France…where were you?”

 

Gwendolyn continued to capture his
intoxicating essence from his incredible warmth against her body,
“…Waiting for you to wake up and realize that you were still
obsessed.”

 

“Who’s obsessed?” Thomas joked, pulling away
from her nuzzle and gazing down at his son and nodding at him.

 

Gwendolyn touched his face with her hand and
then wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek. “We are,” she
could barely say through stifled sentiment. She leaned in to kiss
his soft lips once more, squeezing him tightly to her breast as she
did so.

 

“Mummie! Mummie!” Mary stomped in, yelling,
“Father is here! Father is here—” She cut off, watching her mother
and father kissing. Thomas broke away from Gwendolyn and eyed
Mary’s approximation. “Come here, love…go and stand by your
mother.”

 

“What are you doing Thomas?” Gwendolyn asked,
holding the baby now with one hand and then grabbing Mary’s with
the other. In total stupefaction, she watched Thomas get down on
one’s knees before the three of them.

 

Phyllis and Stewart came in from around the
corner and then Marcus, a few more villagers, followed by a
startled Charles.

 

“Good, I have witnesses,” Thomas settled,
looking over at all the inquiring perception.

 

With a smile pasted to her face, Gwendolyn
forthwith realized what was about to happen. “Thomas, there is no
need—”

 

“Shush Gwendolyn, but there is,” he suspended
her. “Now, I am taking control of this meandering ship so allow me
my address.”

 

Gwendolyn bit down on her lower lip to keep
from laughing, “But Thomas—”

 

“Gwendolyn—please,” he cut her off, “…When we
were married the first time, we did not have a choice in the
matter. Now, we do,” he voiced quietly and serious now. “And I…Lord
Thomas Albert Hollinger, III, 5th Duke of Norwin and Earl of
Wilderbrand, want to take care of you and my family…I am in love
with you Lady Gwendolyn of Suffolkshire and I would be honored…no
euphoric, if you would become my wife once again.”

 

The biggest smile appeared on Mary as she
looked up at her mother who was in tears. Mary wrapped her arms
around her waist and gave her mother a hug. “What is your answer,
Mummie?”

 

Gwendolyn cleared her cheeks, before saying,
“But Thomas, we are already married.”

 

Thomas frowned, “What?”

 

Gwendolyn reached out and touched his chin;
“I have never sent the papers back.”

 

“The divorce decree?”

 

“Yes,” she confessed. “I still have them. I
never signed them. If you wanted to marry that malevolent girl,
then you would have to answer to me first.”

 

Thomas stood back up again and puffed up with
open-mouthed wonder, “Another trick, Gwendolyn?”

 

“A challenge Thomas.”

 

Thomas grinned, “Challenge?”

 

“A dare to love.”

 

“Still married then, eh?” Thomas accepted
happily, “Then we must renew our vows, tomorrow, today…no now!”

 

“Now?” Gwendolyn asked astonished.

 

Thomas hushed down and whispered in her ear,
“Gwen love, I wish to be present at the birth of our next child we
conceive, so unless you want to continue to be my brood mare, I say
most definitely now.”

 

Gwendolyn’s mouth flew open wide from the
obvious insinuation and innuendo in his stare, “In front of all of
these people? You would drag me away? You would not dare.”

 

“Try me.”

 

 

 

 

FIVE WINTERS
LATER

Wilderbrand Castle

 

 

Lying down, Gwendolyn was upstairs in the
master bedroom with a thermometer sticking out of her mouth.
Looking up at the doctor, she watched him as he recorded her
examination. She gazed outside her window and awaited her husband’s
arrival. Amazing, how five years could come and go so fast, they
were practically a blur. She was in love with him…he was in love
with her…and Gwendolyn could not help but still miss him every
second he was not around.

 

They did get remarried in a modest chapel in
Kettlewell. With little fanfare, her second wedding ceremony to
Thomas was one she would never forget. Even though just a few
people were in attendance, the ceremony was both beautiful and
poignant, and Gwendolyn swore she caught a glimpse of her mother in
the shadows of a doorway. And when the Monsignor pronounced that
Gwendolyn and Thomas were man and wife, Gwendolyn threw herself
into his embrace, wrapped her arms underneath his arms and they
remained intertwined and cried in each other’s neckline for nearly
half an hour. Mary had to finally rip her parents apart and remind
them that it was still her birthday and she had presents to
open.

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