Tamed & Unleashed Page 3

  Aiden!

  If only she had died in childbirth.

  Chapter Three – A Changed Woman

  After four months in London, Garrett was close to admitting defeat and returning home to Scotland.

  And yet, he stayed. He attended every event he could, always hoping against hope to spot her in the crowd. But he never did.

  When her brother and his wife returned to London three months after his own arrival, his heart almost leapt from his chest. He could barely keep himself restrained and would have stormed across the dance floor to confront them if it had not been for Lord Tynham.

  “This is not the way,” his friend had whispered. “If she never spoke to them of you, this will lead to nothing good. Let me speak to him.”

  Gritting his teeth, Garrett had nodded his consent, his eyes glued to his wife’s brother as Lord Tynham addressed him. In the end, his friend had returned with little news. All her brother had said was that she was visiting relatives in the country, recovering from a mild illness that had befallen her over the holidays.

  Fear had gripped Garrett’s heart at the thought of her in danger, but Lord Tynham had assured him that neither her brother nor his wife had seemed the least bit concerned. So, whatever it was that ailed her, it was nothing serious.

  And so, Garrett kept wondering what on earth had happened, why she had left without a word, why she had not spoken of him to her family. Anger grew in his heart, and more than once, he was tempted to reveal the truth about their connection to her brother.

  However, he never did.

  Honour held him back. After all, she was his wife, and he owed her his trust and consideration. If she had not spoken to her family about him, then there had to be a good reason. He had to trust in that. He needed to speak to her, but he had to find her first.

  Unfortunately, with every day that passed, it seemed less and less likely that he ever would.

  The evening progressed as it usually did, and feeling defeated, Garrett soon turned to his friend, wishing to take his leave and then head outside for some air. Perhaps clearing his head would help him to come up with a new strategy.

  That was when he saw her.

  It was only a moment. Only out of the corner of his eye, but his heart stopped, and the breath caught in his throat as his head spun around.

  Accompanied by her brother and his wife, Lord and Lady Ashwood, as well as−presumably−her mother, the dowager viscountess, his wife slowly made her way through the crowd, returning greetings left and right, here and there stopping to exchange a word.

  London−or at least those attending tonight’s ball−was abuzz with her sudden and unexpected return. Rumours had run wild, and everyone clamoured to speak to her and be the first to know more.

  Suddenly rooted to the spot, Garrett stood and stared at his wife, his eyes gliding over her altered appearance in shock.

  When he had met her in Gretna Green, her hair had been a mess, her wild mahogany curls escaping the loosening knot in the back of her head. Her gown while exquisite had been stained with dust and sweat and the occasional spilled drink. Her face had been flushed, and her eyes vibrant despite the scowl he had seen on her face when he had first laid eyes on her. She had laughed with vigour, loud and unaffected, and her mouth had rarely stood still, words flying from her lips without pausing for breath. She had been a force of nature, untamed and wild.

  And he had loved her for it.

  Now, the woman he saw merely resembled the wife he remembered.

  While Garrett could ignore the fact that her hair and gown were of the latest fashion, clean and immaculate, he could not ignore the paleness of her cheeks, the way her eyes failed to sparkle, the tension that clung to her features as though she hated every moment she was forced to be here. Sadness and regret hung about her like a dark cloud, and he could see the willpower it took for her to keep smiling.

  Immediately, his anger evaporated as his heart went out to her. What on earth had happened to her?

  In that moment, her gaze swept over the crowd and then for a heart-stopping moment met his. To Garrett’s utter shock, no recognition lit up her eyes, and her gaze moved from his without a moment’s hesitation as though they had never met before.

  Instantly, his anger returned. Was she truly pretending she did not know him? That they had never met?

  Stunned, Garrett stared at her. “We’re married,” he whispered without breath, his heart beating as fast as it last had the night he had met her. Had he been wrong? Had their night meant nothing to her? Nothing but a meaningless tryst? Had she truly forgotten him?

  A hand clasped his shoulder. “This seems to be your lucky night after all, my friend,” Lord Tynham said, a large smile on his face as his gaze travelled back from tonight’s unexpected attendee to Garrett. “Here is your chance to find out what happened.” When he saw the scowl on Garrett’s face, his own darkened. “You don’t know what happened,” he advised in a stern voice. “Do not jump to conclusions! Speak to her! Find out the truth! I implore you.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett nodded, knowing that his friend was right. Still, he could feel the blood boiling in his veins, urging him to cross to her side, drag her out of the crowded ballroom into a quiet corner and…

  …kiss her as he had kissed her that night.

  Growling under his breath, Garrett gritted his teeth as his mind and heart jerked him in two different directions. He could still feel his anger stirring his blood, and yet, his heart revelled in the sight of her.

  After a little while, the crowd that had gathered around his wife slowly began to disperse, and people returned to their usual evening’s activities. The orchestra began to play a lively tune, and soon the dance floor was packed with couples. Laughter filled the air, and yet, the look on his wife’s face remained stoic and forced.

  Garrett frowned. Did no one else notice?

  Still, a closer look at Lady Ashwood told him that the young viscount’s new wife was very much aware of her sister-in-law’s true feelings. She stayed close by her side, often touching a gentle hand to Claudia’s, assuring her that she was there. Although less obvious, even her brother and mother showed their concern in subtle ways, never venturing far and doing their best to discourage others who seemed hell-bent on extracting scandalous titbits from the young lady who had been the focus of gossip ever since the previous summer.

  Garrett sighed. Theirs was a close-knit family, and he was relieved to see that his wife was not alone. Still, her family’s concern made it even clearer that something had happened. Something that was of great concern to them. Something that clearly should have prevented Claudia from attending tonight’s ball.

  And yet, she had.

  However, judging from the determined set of her jaw, it had been her own doing. She had insisted as Garrett knew her to be capable of. In his mind’s eye, he saw her stomping her feet and crossing her arms, simply refusing to listen much less change her mind.

  And yet, the look on her face was one of defeat. What had happened? Garrett wondered for the thousandth time. And why had she insisted to come here tonight?

  “You are aware that the evening won’t last forever, aren’t you?” Lord Tynham asked the moment a young gentleman approached Claudia.

  Instantly, Garrett tensed, watching as the man asked her for the next dance. Although her brother tried to intervene, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and then slowly, almost hesitantly offered him her hand.

  Spinning to look at his friend, Garrett asked, “Would you mind if I asked your wife for the next dance?”

  Lord Tynham’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “You won’t cause a scene, will you?”

  “I assure you I will not,” Garrett forced out through gritted teeth, his gaze darting back to where his wife was about to stand up with the young gentleman. His feet itched to be off.

  “Then you may ask her.”

  Nodding to his friend, Garrett addressed Lady Tynham, finding her shy, green eyes and pale bl
ond curls a striking contrast to the woman who held his heart. At first, surprise showed on her face before understanding came to her eyes.

  “It’d be my pleasure,” she said graciously and then followed him onto the dance floor, her eyes venturing back to her husband as they exchanged a meaningful look.

  Garrett wished his own wife would look at him the same way.

  She had once.

  A long time ago.

  Would they ever get back what they had lost?

  All throughout the dance, Garrett’s eyes were glued to his wife. He watched her smile and move and exchange the occasional word with her dance partner. And yet, nothing seemed to touch her, her heart, her spirit, her soul. Her eyes remained dim, guarded, almost haunted.

  “Will you not speak to her?” Lady Tynham asked, a gentle smile on her lips as she looked at him as one would look at a half-drowned puppy: full of pity.

  Garrett grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, which to his consternation only served to deepen the look in Lady Tynham’s eyes. Was he such a miserable sight? Were his friends pitying him now?

  Deep down, Garrett knew that he feared the answers he sought. Yes, he wanted to speak to his wife. He wanted to know the truth. And yet, he feared to learn that her heart had never belonged to him, that she had all but forgotten about him, that she did not want him.

  Still, he could not go on like this. He had barely slept in weeks, his nights restless and filled with outlandish nightmares. Perhaps knowing the truth would finally set his mind at ease, even if it broke his heart.

  When the steps of the dance finally led them together, Garrett inhaled a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. When her hand touched his, even through the glove, a jolt went through his body and he felt that same connection he had all those many months ago.

  As though they had been meant to find each other.

  As though they were two halves of a whole.

  As though they belonged in each other’s arms.

  Unfortunately, his wife did not seem to feel shaken in the least. Her eyes barely rose to meet his, and the look on her face told him that she was scarcely aware of his presence.

  “’Tis a wonderful evening, aye?” Garrett asked, all but holding his breath.

  A practised smile appeared on her face, and she lifted her head. Her eyes met his, and for a second, he thought to see a hint of confusion. “It is indeed,” she agreed, her voice almost timid and without strength. What on earth had happened to change her so?

  “I’ve never been to London before,” he continued, not knowing what to say at her lack of reaction, “as I rarely leave Scotland.”

  Her hand tensed, and for the length of a heartbeat, her brilliantly blue eyes widened ever so slightly, and she looked at him with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. However, the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and Garrett could not help but wonder if he might have been mistaken, if his eyes had deceived him.

  Gathering his wits, he meant to say more but the dance drew them apart in that moment, and he watched her leave his side, the distance between them growing painfully.

  “She did not recognise you, did she?” Lady Tynham asked, utter confusion on her pretty face. Then she shook her head. “How can she not recognise her own husband? Do you suppose she’s had some sort of an accident?”

  Garrett inhaled a sharp breath, then closed his eyes, praying that fate had not truly erased him from his wife’s mind. And yet, he had to admit that he had not seen even a spark of recognition in her eyes. Confusion, perhaps. But nothing that would suggest she remembered him at all. How was this possible?

  For the rest of the evening, Garrett watched her, torn between anger and confusion, between thinking her heartless and fearing that she truly did not remember him. More than once, he took a step into her direction, only to hold himself back in the last moment. No, his friend was right, this was neither the time nor the place for a confrontation. It would serve no one if he lost his temper in the middle of a crowded ballroom.

  Patience, he counselled himself. Patience!

  After all, she was finally here, here in London. Her whereabouts were no longer unknown. He could seek her out, and he would. There was no way he would return to Scotland without answers.

  She was his wife, and he would be damned before he allowed her to slip through his fingers.

  Chapter Four – A Hand Dealt

  When they arrived home after the ball, Claudia barely made it up the stairs to her bedchamber. Her whole body felt like lead, heavy and uncoordinated. Lifting her feet was trying, her muscles quivering with exhaustion. Her mind, too, felt numb, and her ears rang after being subjected to the deafening sounds of a crowded ballroom.

  Not too long ago, she had revelled in nights like these, but not tonight.

  Tonight, she had felt overwhelmed by all those people rushing to her side, asking intrusive questions about her, about her absence, about William and their disappearance from Lord Campton’s ball almost a year ago.

  All their questions had only served to remind her of Gretna Green, of her indiscretion, of her child.

  Closing the door behind her, Claudia leaned the back of her head against the smooth wood and closed her eyes, feeling tears sting, wanting nothing more but to run free.

  Then her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor in a sea of billowing fabric. Covering her mouth with her hands, she did her best to muffle the sobs that tore from her throat. At least the tears that moistened her cheeks were quiet. They would not draw her family’s attention. They would not call to them for comfort.

  Comfort they could not give.

  As much as they tried, as much as they felt for her, there was nothing they could do. There was no comfort. Nothing they could say that would ease the pain in her heart.

  Every moment of every day, Claudia could see their concern for her in their eyes. She knew that despite her efforts she had changed, grown quiet. She was no longer the cheerful and carefree young woman she had once been, the woman they had known.

  And it worried them.

  Claudia loved them for it, and yet, she hated the way they looked at her for it only served to remind her of her past.

  Of the night she had conceived her son.

  A night she could not remember.

  And a child she could not help but long for.

  Would this pain ever cease?

  When the sobs quieted, Claudia allowed her hands to drop from her mouth, her arms no longer strong enough to hold them up. And there she sat on the floor, in her ball gown, her back against the door, in a dimly-lit room and stared at the gentle flames dancing in the hearth across from her.

  Her lids began to droop as a soft voice echoed in her mind. It sounded different, and yet, so familiar.

  I’ve never been to London before as I rarely leave Scotland.

  Claudia’s head snapped up, and she half-expected to see…

  Shaking her head, she rubbed a hand over her eyes, feeling fatigue pull on her. She struggled to her feet, leaving her shoes by the door, and then crossed to her vanity, sinking onto the padded stool. Claudia knew she ought to ring for her maid, but the thought of another invading her privacy was too overwhelming.

  Blinking her lids, she tried her best to stay focused, to undo the laces and free herself of her gown.

  Her costume.

  She had hoped for a diversion but had found nothing but reminders of that which she had hoped to forget. If she could not remember the night she had conceived her son, then why was she doomed to remember everything that had followed?

  After a small eternity, the dress finally fell away, and she proceeded to rid herself of her stays and stockings as well. Only dressed in her shift, Claudia slipped under the covers, feeling the cool sheets against her heated skin.

  Would she dream of him again tonight? Claudia wondered as her eyes closed and she rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow to her chest.

  The man she could not remember? Would he speak to he
r again in her dreams as he had so often in the past few months?

  Whenever he would come to her in her dreams, his voice would be warm and throaty, and it would brush over her skin like a caress. He only ever spoke words she could not make sense of, words she did not know. And yet, they sounded like endearments, words whispered to someone who held his heart.

  In those dreams, Claudia felt safe and loved. She felt strong arms wrap around her, lifting her up and bedding her down gently. She could feel his fingers trailing over her skin causing goose bumps. And yet, her eyes remained blind.

  Upon waking, she could never remember the look of his face or the colour of his eyes. All she ever remembered was the feel of him and the whispered words that spoke to her soul as though they had been made for her and her alone.

  If only she could remember him.

  ***

  Two days after the ball, Claudia was wandering rather aimlessly through the garden when she heard footsteps hastening toward her. Inhaling a deep breath, she blinked her eyes to discourage the tears that seemed to linger day and night before turning to face whoever had stumbled upon her in this remote area of the garden.

  To her surprise, it seemed that the disturbance of her solitude was no accident at all. Not only her brother, but also his wife and their mother were all but rushing toward her, their faces tense and their eyes filled with compassion and concern.

  The sight sent cold shivers down Claudia’s back. What on earth had happened now? Was there any way fate could deal her an even harsher card than the one she already held?

  “My dear,” her mother addressed her, gently pulling Claudia’s hands into her own, “we’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “And now you’ve found me,” Claudia replied with the pretend cheerfulness she had worked so hard to attain. Judging from the looks on her family’s faces though, it fell far short.

  All of a sudden, silence descended over them as the other three glanced from her to one another, each one of them dreading to speak the first word. While Richard and her mother looked distraught to the point of painful, Evelyn had her hands resting protectively on the small bump under her dress as though she feared her child might disappear. For a moment, neither one of them dared meet her eyes.