Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (50 page)
Read Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor Online
Authors: Rue Allyn
Tags: #Historical, #Romance
She took a couple of puffs, and passed it back. “
Oui
. They are better than money, much better. It is like Maman passing out cookies.”
Louis laughed. “I am Papa, passing out cigarettes?”
“
Oui
, Papa, you are.”
Again, he laughed, and downshifted to tackle the next hill. Bishou leaned back to feel the sun on her face, and thought,
Yes, I am in Paradise
.
More From This Author
Second Chance Sister
by Linda Kepner
Rhianna
Amanda L. V. Shalaby
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
Copyright © 2012 by Amanda L. V. Shalaby
ISBN 10: 1-4405-5153-7
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5153-6
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5133-2
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5133-8
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art ©123rf.com
For my grandmother, Catherine M. Fisher, without whose vision of a red-headed English girl standing before a fireplace in a white, satin gown and satin slippers this story would not exist.
For my mother, Deborah L. Vaiden, whose wealth of knowledge of all things English and love of reading proved invaluable.
For Berry, who sat devotedly at my side.
Contents
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Prologue
Thornton, England 1813
The sound of pounding horse hooves brought Mauvreen from her midwife duties, down to the first floor of the hunting lodge. She quickly answered a frantic knock at the door, where she met familiar, anxious eyes.
“Where is she?”
“Upstairs,” Mauvreen said, urging him inside and closing the door behind him.
“I got here as fast as I could from London. How — ?”
“She has been thirty-eight hours in labor.”
His hurried breathing stopped.
Thirty-eight?
“And?”
Mauvreen shook her head. “Soon. Come with me.”
She led him quickly up the wooden stairs and down the hall that led to Hallie’s bedroom. Mauvreen clutched her chest as a scream echoed through the cabin — the bone-piercing cry of a woman in the final stages of a difficult childbirth.
“My God,
Hallie
…”
Pushing past Mauvreen, the father-to-be bounded toward the bedroom. He was on his knees beside the bed before Mauvreen reached the threshold, one hand cupping the crown of Hallie’s head, the other clutching her hand. He appeared oblivious — or willfully blind — to the blood-soaked sheets beneath her.
Hallie turned her face to him and attempted a smile through the pain. She was too drained.
“My love.”
“I’m here.”
She drew a shallow breath. “It won’t be long now. I can feel it.”
Brushing away the sweat of her forehead, he nodded reassuringly.
“Yes, it shall all be over soon, darling.” Turning abruptly to Mauvreen, he asked, “Do we not have forceps?”
Mauvreen, fighting her greatest fears to remain outwardly calm, examined Hallie’s progress with steady hands.
“No, but we are close. Focus, Hallie.”
The lovers’ eyes met again.
“I wanted to be here sooner. There was no carriage or beast that could move quickly enough.”
“Hush, my love,” she said. “The baby has waited for you.”
Another contraction brought a powerful cry. Hallie threw her head back into her pillow as she arched her spine. Her fingers turned white around her lover’s hand, matching the shade of her cheeks, the color drained from her sweet, young face many hours since.
“Push, Hallie.”
The contraction passed. Mauvreen ran a wet cloth along the insides of Hallie’s legs. It was a fruitless effort. The blood continued all the more as the baby drew closer.
“Come along now, little one,” Mauvreen said, as another contraction kicked in. “Ah! There you are.”
A head appeared. A continuous, blood-curdling scream sounded. And then, moments later, the softer cry of a newborn infant filled the air.
“A girl,” Mauvreen announced.
Hallie, who had fallen limp into the folds of bedsheets around her, forced her eyes open at this announcement and locked them on the baby as she caught her breath. Even as her lover kept his eyes on
her
, from that moment on it was clear Hallie saw only her daughter.
Mauvreen worked furiously to cut the cord, rinse the baby, and hand her to her mother. Wrapped in a blanket crocheted for her by Hallie, the little girl was placed swiftly beside her.
“Oh! She’s lovely,” Hallie said, her voice barely a whisper. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever beheld.”
Her lover helped position the baby more securely in her exhausted arms.
“Beautiful,” he said, “like her mother.”
Meanwhile, Mauvreen collapsed into a scroll-backed leather chair in the corner of the room. Its angle was blessedly away from Hallie’s line of vision and it was there Mauvreen fought her tears.
She allowed the small family a quiet moment together before catching the father’s eyes. “May I see you a moment?”
Her look conveyed the urgency of this request. Kissing both his girls on their foreheads, he prepared to oblige.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, and rose to follow Mauvreen into the hallway.
Hallie seemed hardly to notice. She never lifted her gaze from the new life she held beside her.
Closing the door softly behind them, Mauvreen rested her hand on the father’s arm. “Do you understand,” she began gently, “Hallie is hemorrhaging?”
He met her gaze with a blank stare, followed by a look of sudden understanding. “Dear God — what are you saying?”
Mauvreen spoke slowly and deliberately. “There isn’t much time left.”
She worked hard to compose herself, wiping away tears and resisting their multiplication, while he braced himself against the wall with an extended hand.
“How much?” he pressed.
“There is no saying.” She added delicately, “Make the most of what you have.”
He raised his fingers to his temple, as if it would force her words to sink in. “I should not have left her during this time.”
She tightened her grip on him. “Whether you were here or there would not have made any difference.”
“I doubt I’ll ever accept that.” His eyes widened suddenly. “And the child?”
“She will be fine, I’m certain of it.”
The shadows that fell over his face could not hide its severe expression. “She can never know the truth — it would ruin her. I need to know I can trust you on that.”
“Hallie is as much family to me as she is to you. Whatever you decide to do with the baby, you can trust me to help in any way I can. You have my word.”
Taking a deep breath, he attempted to collect himself. As he prepared to reenter the bedroom, he took her hand in his. “Mauvreen, I know you have done more for Hallie than any doctor ever could. And I thank you.”
Mauvreen shot him an appreciative gaze before he returned to his place beside the bed. She followed silently behind him, pulling fresh bedsheets and blankets from a corner dresser and placing them beside the bed.
The new mother appeared deliriously happy, her eyes and her smile bright as he leaned over her.
“Hallie.”
“My love,” she said, her daughter grasping her forefinger with all five of her own.
“I love you.”
Her eyes flickered to his. It was clear that there was nothing he knew that she did not.
“And I you.” Resting her hand on his, she said, “You must do something for me.”
Holding a damp cloth to her forehead and wiping away a few stray hairs, he promised, “Anything.”
Her smile widened. “I have a name for her.”
Chapter One
Manoir Vallière, France, 1832
Ordinarily, it would have been a predictable morning at the estate. The autumn air was crisp and the sky cloudless as the girls and their horses enjoyed an early trot along the property’s meadows and grassland. Neither could have had any knowledge of the peculiar guest who was shortly to arrive at the
manoir
, nor of the events that his visit would inspire.
On this morning, Rhianna Braden reflected on her life as she rode through the fields alongside her companion, Soleil Vallière. Perhaps it was the want of conversation between them that led to this rapt musing, though such thoughts had been a frequent pastime as of late. Still, she was surprised when a vivid girlhood memory came suddenly upon her.
“They mean to send me away!”
she heard her young voice exclaim.
It was now ten years since she had been sent to Madame Chandelle’s School for Girls at the tender age of nine, but she recalled her cries as clearly as when she first spoke them.
“Who means to send you away?”
The voice was soothing, its owner affectionate. Rhianna often still thought of her — her only friend in England. The person whose acquaintance she could never admit to having, their precious few visits shrouded in secrecy. Worst of all, it was impossible to write to this person, hence, all communication had long since been cut off.
“Father and mother.”
The words still stung after all these years. At the time she spoke them, her cheeks were moist and her eyes misty — Rhianna could almost feel the dampness on her skin now, before she pushed the memory away.
Of course, if she had only known then what a positive change her move to France would be, she would have spared herself the hot tears that soaked her childhood pillow. Now, skilled in all the accomplishments of young womanhood and residing in the Vallière home as one of the family, Rhianna wondered at this decade of transition from an English curate’s daughter to a teacher at Madame Chandelle’s to working as a companion to Soleil.
Indeed, at nineteen, her days were consumed with the Vallières and their activities. The bond that developed among them was, from the beginning, immediate and mutual — a bond Rhianna did not think possible to exist in a family. She recalled the first time her own parents had rejected a visit from her how the Vallières demonstrated their kindness by taking her into their home; Rhianna hoped always to reflect the generosity they continued to show throughout her years of acquaintance with them.
Their silence continued until the girls reached the easternmost plateau of the grounds. It was a favorite lookout place of theirs and, as on all mornings in this particular spot, a breathtaking scene lay before them. All the valleys of the neighboring properties came into view, draped in golden sunlight. Acres upon acres of flourishing, untamed land met them, accented in beaming rays of early morning light and outlined by sharply peaked mountains against the distant horizon. Never was there a more splendid place to fully immerse oneself in the deepest of contemplation, and it was here that the two girls reined in their horses.
