Chapter Two

A/N: Hello. Sorry, sorry, sorry I've kept you guys waiting so long. I've been focused on my Narnia Fanfiction The Darkest Cravings, that I hadn't much time to spare for my Little White Horse readers. Very sorry for that.

Some things that inspire A Forbidden Passion:

-Mountain Dew soda

-My lovely reviewer

-Heartbreaker by Pink

-Stars by Christian Henson

-Robin De Noir:)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Little White Horse, nor do I own any of the wonderful characters.

Shall we begin chapter two?

She opened the door and peered out into the emptiness. Then, she saw her valise sitting at the edge of the three marble steps. She smiled, thinking that Mr. Digweed had brought that to her. As she picked up, sitting straight, she saw a portrait of a woman hanging on the wall. Winnie tilted her head.

The woman looked like a princess, standing in a forest of looming trees. Pretty, she thought. Winnie rummaged through her bag and pulled out her book. She hadn't the time to read her book before she came to Moonacre, and while she was doing nothing she decided to read it. The cover read, The Ancient Chronicles of Moonacre Valley. "At least father didn't leave me a boring book as my only inheritance,"

Once upon a perfect time, many hundreds of years ago, when the old magic clung to Moonacre Valley like early morning mist, there was a young woman whose skin gleamed as pale as a star, and whose heart was as pure as moonlight. Such was her bravery and goodness, she was beloved by nature, as if she were its own daughter. One fateful night, the moon blessed her with an extraordinary gift that would change the magic of the valley forever—the moon pearls. From that day forth, she was known as the moon princess.

Two ancient families lived in harmony at the edge of the valley, sharing nature's bounty. Daughter of the De Noir clan, the moon princess, fell deeply in love, and was to be married to Sir Wrolf Merryweather. Her father, Sir William De Noir, blessed the union by presenting the couple with a rare, black lion.

"For my daughter's bride groom," He said. "Thank you father," She replied happily.

In turn, Wrolf gave his bride a unicorn, lured from the wild white horses of the sea. "Only an animal of such beauty and purity could be the companion of the moon princess." Her heart overflowing with happiness, the moon princess revealed the magical pearls to both families. "Nurtured fathoms deep in the heart of the ocean, these pearls were given to us by Mother Nature herself, promising untold riches to us all. Look. They have unique power. They can reveal the truth in men's hearts."

Legend told of their unique power, so strong that they could grant every wish—both good and evil.

Winnie gazed at the beautiful moon princess, her expression twisted with fear and confusion. She slammed the book, a bit shaken from the picture. The least father could do was leave her a happy book—and so far, she wasn't really feeling the love. What else did she have in here? A silver key tied to blue ribbons; a gift from father on her fifth birthday. There were dresses, shoes, and hair pins, clips and more ribbons. She had a bonnet for every dress, but didn't really favor some itchy piece of material atop her soft strawberry blonde head, whereas Mrs. Heliotrope never went anywhere without one.

Speaking of her governess, Winnie looked to the clock that sat on the wall. "Six thirty." At least the girl had wasted a good thirty minutes. She pulled a small hair brush from her valise and brushed her curls before going down to find her uncle.

She tried to find her way down the dark hallway, but she didn't really succeed in that too well. "Oof," She grunted as she rammed her waist into a small glass end table with pointed corners. "The Lord made light for a reason." Winnie grumbled to herself. Finally, she saw a light at the end of the tunnel and happily ran towards it. "Oh, uncle I was looking for you…" She trailed off when she noticed that the being on the couch was not Uncle Benjamin, but his large black beast of a dog Wrolf.

When she cautiously stepped back, the dog barked at her. Winnie swore that it was more like a roar. "This is Wrolf," Uncle's voice echoed from the end of the hall. When he noticed the terrified look on her face, he informed, "You're a Merryweather—he very probably won't hurt you." The small girl exhaled in relief.

"If you're hungry, food is on the table. Once Jane (A/N: Mrs. Heliotrope, but Uncle B. calls her by her first name.) arrives, then I'll let you settle in. And tomorrow will be our proper tour of the manor." She gave her uncle a small curtsy. "Of course," She replied sweetly. She eyed that dog/beast as she scurried into the dining hall. There was a long wooden table with every food that could come to her mind.

Figs, jam tarts, sandwiches, soups, meats and potatoes—oh, the girl had never had such a meal. "He certainly knows how to prepare a nice supper." She told herself as she sat down in her seat. Hungrily, she grabbed a large china plate and stuffed it with the delicious foods that were in her reach. "Now Miss Merryweather, how very impolite of you to stuff your self like that!" A familiar voice fussed. Winnie knew that voice anywhere—Mrs. Heliotrope.

She ran from the table to embrace her governess tightly. The woman, not liking this hug at all, just simply patted her back in a disgusted sort of way. "How was your ride, Mrs. Heliotrope?"

In response, the older woman belched loudly. "Oh, absolutely horrid. Rocky roads and a wobbly carriage was no way to treat my sensitive stomach. And I must complain to Dr. Meade about these charcoal tablets! Why, they did nothing for my indigestion." Winnie tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn't miss her governess' fretting and complaining. If she had been on her ride, she'd be over the top. "But luckily for my Classical French Needlepoint system, I didn't really have a problem with the dizziness from watching trees whiz by your carriage. But all that jostling like I was a mere rag doll put me into a rage!"

"Well, I was ambushed." The girl mumbled during the older woman's small fit. But she should have known better for Mrs. Heliotrope had ears like a hawk. "Ambushed! What an outrage! Did you tell your uncle, Winifred?" She shook her head sheepishly. The woman dropped her bags and rushed out of the door to her uncle. "This is a perfect way to start the night at a new home." The girl sighed in annoyance.

"Winifred was attacked at the very gates of your home, Sir Benjamin!" Uncle Benjamin turned his dark eyes upon Winnie as she entered the room. "I will tell you one thing, Miss Merryweather. Stay out of the forest."


Winnie stretched in her bed and opened her eyes to a small platter of biscuits sitting on her leaf table. She sat up and took one of the intricately designed biscuits. It smelled good, but she had no idea where these came from. She ran her tongue over the side of the sweet treat, and decided it was good enough to eat. She sipped the small wine glass of milk and looked around the room. It was still hers to customize and enjoy.

She sat up and shrugged off her bed jacket. On the cream colored chair there sat a dark brown (like the color of Uncle Benjamin's eyes) dress with the letter L stitched onto the sleeve. Winnie held it up to her curvy figure and cringed at how bad it looked on her. "No, I think not." She said and dropped the material back onto her chair. She went to her valise and picked a pretty maroon frock with a white lace rim. She picked a bonnet just to make Mrs. Heliotrope happy. She laced her black boots and smoothed the neckline of the dress down further than Mrs. Heliotrope would ever approve of.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Boys would be drooling! Maybe even that boy that ambushed her. She felt oddly attracted to him, but cursed herself for it. She picked up the book and cradled it against her (only a tiny bit) exposed chest.

As she quietly descended the steps, she heard the beautiful music of Clair de Lune on the piano. "I didn't know uncle played the piano…nor did I know he even had one." She followed the sweet music until she reached her destination.

The piano was grand, but very old. She expected to see her uncle sitting on the bench, but she saw no one. Her jaw dropped open as she inched her way over to the instrument. But how could the piano play music all on its own? Impossible!

The sweet song of Clair de Lune kept playing as her shaky fingers fumbled to the lid to reveal a row of rotting keys. She gasped loudly; they pressed down all on their own. Was it a ghost? Oddly enough, she didn't feel scared. When she heard footsteps behind her, she slammed the lid in the midst of the climax of the song. "Good morning," Uncle mumbled to her, but did a double take when he noticed what she clasped to her chest.

"Where did you get that?" He hissed at her. "Oh, papa left it to me." Uncle Benjamin's eyes grew even stormier than they already were. "Well he had no right to. This belongs here." Winnie watched with astonishment as her uncle seized the book from her grasp and stalked off. Filled with anger and disbelief, the girl burst through the doors that separated her from the dining room.

"Mrs. Heliotrope, tell him to return my book to me!" The woman looked at her with surprise as she shoveled another spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth. "Good Heavens, child! Where's your self-restraint?" The woman scolded. "But you see, he took to my only inheritance—"

"Winnie!" The younger girl shut her mouth and sat down at the table. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's just keeping it in a safe place for you." Winnie played with her oatmeal, her temperature rising. On the other hand, Mrs. Heliotrope was savoring every bite of that country food. Mr. Digweed came back with two plates of eggs and bacon. "That'll be your breakfasts, then." He said.

The dining room doors flew open as that "book-stealer" made his appearance and sat at the end of the table. Winnie frowned down at her food. "Winnie darling, you must try these jelly rolls and cinnamon sprinkled honey dough—"

"Mmm-hmm," Uncle interrupted. "A dish best enjoyed in silence, I'm told." Mrs. Heliotrope stared, dumbstruck. Winnie watched her uncle noisily pour himself a cup of hot tea. She tried her best to ignore it, but he was just so—

Crack! Uncle dumped a raw egg into his tea and the young girl's stomach churned.

She saw her governess cringe as he started to stir it with a silver spoon. "You really ought to return the book to me." She noted. Her uncle glared up at her as he sipped his drink. "Your cook is wonderful! Have you had her long?" Mrs. Heliotrope tried to cover the awkward silence.

"Madam, no woman has stepped foot in this house in years. And I must say, I was enjoying this nice silence." Mrs. Heliotrope stared again. "Well Winnie, I must say that this country food is absolutely delicious—"

"Cat's teeth! Can't a man enjoy a bit of quiet in his own home?" His tone immediately silenced both guests sitting at the table. Winnie was tired of Uncle Benjamin being rude to her and her governess. "Well, do tell us uncle. Why did you invite such noisy, irritating females into your nice, quiet home?" Uncle slammed his glass down onto the table, angered by Winnie's snarky comment. "My hopeless brother dies in debt so it falls on me to give you a place to live. The man was a cowardly good for nothing—"

Mrs. Heliotrope stared at him in shock. "Sir Benjamin!" She snapped. "How dare you say that? My father was a colonel!" Winnie was surprised at how quickly she jumped to defend her father. Her piercing honey golden eyes sliced right through his dark ones. "Yes, he died in debt owing money to half the country." He retorted back with the same force as the girl. "He fought for his country." She lowered her eyes at him and glowered.

"And got himself killed in a back street gambling game, throwing money once, too many times at the wrong kind of money-lenders. But of course it's a crime to take money from your own brother, who offered over ten times, knowing that his brother was in terrible debt. The damned fool and his pride."

Winnie sat down in her chair, defeated. "You are still a Merryweather, Winnie. And this is where you belong, and where you shall stay." Benjamin gave his empty cup to Mr. Digweed and left the table hastily. The girl sat in silence, feeling guilty for snapping at her uncle like that.

She left the table also, to go outside for some fresh air. And she didn't care if those idiot boys harassed her again. She didn't really care about if she got lost, either.


So sorry for the wait, you guys! I hope Chapter Two holds you off while I work on my other stories. I am so sorry for the inconvience... Love my reviewers!