Claire did not dream that night.
She awoke surrounded by a fortress of pillows. Her legs, bare and exposed, were bound by a thick satin sheet. Staring at the white gauze that stretched between the four bed posts and cascaded down until it barely swept the marble floor, she wondered where she was.
A distant booming laugh coming from the hallway reminded her.
She sprung up, finding her nightgown, a thin and short silk dress, had ridden up to her hips. She was alone – thankfully. Her head spun from the sudden shift of movement and the bright light streaming from the windows did not help.
She focused on the floor. One shoe she wore last night was tossed to the right of the bed. The other was left by the bedroom door. The dress she wore lay wrinkled on the ground next to her luggage. "Oh God," she mumbled. She barely remembered how she got into bed, or even how she got home – or rather Arley Hall.
Claire rubbed her temples before dragging her hands over her face. Flashes of Sam whirled through her head, him at the restaurant, kissing her hand… kissing her, playing like a film on the back of her eyelids. She chewed on her lip as she wondered where he was and what exactly happened last night when they arrived at Arley Hall.
Considering there were no remnants of a man in her room or especially her bed… that at least was a good thing. Claire unwound her legs from the sheet, eyed the bedroom and its luxurious design before deeming it finally time that she ready herself to meet the people of the house.
In one of the many lounge rooms of Arley Hall, Sam and his cousin sat across from each other. Sam faced the window overlooking the garden, unlike his cousin, he wasn't reading the latest newspaper. Instead, he admired the garden, and beyond the rolling hills were the stables. Maybe he'd take Claire there today.
Desmond, Sam's cousin and six years his senior, puffed on a cigar as he skimmed over an article about the upcoming racing events for the new year.
"When's the last time you went to a race?" he asked, his words mumbled by the cigar between his lips.
"The last one was with you."
Desmond blinked. He folded the newspapers abruptly and twisted to Sam.
"That was ages ago," he said. He plucked the cigar from his lips. "Wasn't that the one when Eliza Carmichael faked a heat stroke just to get your attention?"
Sam slowly turned his head to him. His thick hair was nearly matted to his head. His curls were thicker and wild. He only bothered to change this morning before meeting with his cousin.
"Aye, and it's for that very reason why I haven't attended another since."
Desmond laughed - the deep sound echoing out the open door and into the hallway.
"That woman was positively obsessed with you. It wasn't even summer yet. The dramatics of it all." Desmond sucked on his cigar, about to return to his reading, but paused when he remembered who was asleep in one of his guest rooms, and how his cousin was with the opposite sex. "Before Beth returns with the family and we lose all sense of privacy this weekend, tell me, what's it between you and this Claire?"
Sam glanced at the doorway. Claire's room was just a few doors down. He hadn't heard any movement from it - he'd been keeping a keen ear on it - and even Beth, Desmond's wife, wasn't out of her room yet.
The corners of his lips twitched as he beheld his cousin.
"She's… different," he sucked on his lower lip as he tried to think of the best way to describe Claire - what he felt for her, what he felt between them. But everything that came to mind was too private to even say to his cousin, his best friend. "I'd like to think there's a future."
"Different enough to grab and hold your attention," Desmond added, then asked slowly - cautiously. "Is… marriage something that you see in this future?"
"It's one of the only times I've ever considered it."
A great grin spread on Desmond's handsome face.
"Well I'll be damned. Poor Eliza may suffer from cardiac arrest. As will all the ladies from London to Glasgow."
Sam rolled his eyes but a smile grew on his face. He hadn't indulged with anyone of that thought - of marrying Claire, though it frequently passed his mind more than he'd ever like to admit.
A door snapped close in the hallway and both Desmond and Sam shared a look. Desmond returned to sucking his cigar and reading while Sam found himself searching for something to do. There was the untouched teapot between him and Desmond. Perhaps he could be sipping that to pretend -
Footsteps clicked against the wood floor and stopped.
Claire stood in the doorway taking in the two men and the elegantly furnished room. A dark-haired man continued to read the paper and beside him, Sam looked at her, his hand hovering over an ornate white teapot. His eyes were a bit wider than usual.
"Good morning," Claire said. Her own voice surprised her - huskier than usual. No doubt from the previous night.
The other man looked up. His eyes moved slowly from her feet to her face.
"Morning," Sam stood. He smiled and walked to her.
"How did you sleep?" he asked, his voice quieter. Claire looked up at him, finding his eyes to be unusually bright.
"Very well," she said. She noticed the unruliness of his hair - and liked it. "And you?"
"Like a bear," he smirked. "Come meet my cousin, Desmond Frasier."
Sam touched a palm to her back and led her further into the room. Desmond smiled at them. The newspapers were folded and the cigar smoldered in his hand.
"Desmond, Claire Williams."
Desmond stood. Gently, he lifted Claire's hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Claire."
His accent was different than Sam's. It was much more refined. She tried to focus on this as her stomach began to flip.
She was meeting his family - and apparently, they'd been waiting to meet her. Her nerves began to rattle, but she forced a smile.
"And you, Desmond."
"Sit. I'll send for more tea and biscuits." Desmond gestured for her to take his seat. She obeyed him. Sam returned to his seat and Desmond left the two of them.
"You're up rather early," Sam said. He leaned against the arm of the chair to better face her. His head tilted in a rather adorable way.
"Truthfully, I had no idea what time it was." Or where she was at first.
"You don't look like we drank a handle of whiskey last night. I wish I could say the same for myself."
"No," she said, giving him a lookover. His crisp white shirt was tight in all the right places, leaving her little to imagine what lies beneath. "You only look like you drank two yourself."
Sam scoffed.
"I never thought a woman could even come close to handling her drink as much as me."
"Yes, well, that says something about the women you drink with," a playful smile played on her lips. She anticipated another witty reply but Sam leaned back in his chair.
He liked their banter. He liked her words, her quips and challenging statements. Compared to when they first met, she'd warmed up to revealing her true nature. She wasn't afraid to burst a man's bubble - and certainly did not mind playing at his own game.
"The rest of the family should be arriving today. But after breakfast, I'd like to take you to the stables, " He glanced at her from the side.
"There's horses here?" she asked with delight.
"Four."
Her lips stretched into an excited grin. "I'd like that very much."
Her expression made Sam proud. Proud that he just found something that brought her obvious joy, and from the smile she gave him, the light in her eyes, he wanted to keep finding the things that made her look at him in such a way.
The stables rivaled any other Claire had seen. Her family once had horses - three for each child. She never learned what happened to them. She liked to believe that they were sold or that one of the German soldiers took them for themselves.
So it was with great honest and true pleasure when Sam took her to visit Desmond's four Thoroughbreds. Two with a brilliant chestnut coat and the others with a sleek black shine.
"They're beautiful," Claire beamed as she held her hand out for the two chestnuts to sniff. The larger of the two pressed his mouth to her palm, eager for a pet. She happily obliged.
"They're Desmond's pride and joy." Sam stood beside her, sizing up the two beasts. "I'm not sure if Desmond and Beth will ever have human children - they treat these four like Beth birthed them herself."
Sam searched for the carrots he knew were around somewhere - opening up cabinets and drawers while Claire made her rounds to each of the horses. They accepted her well - as if she were an old friend.
"Here we are," Sam bursted once he found a cotton bag stuffed full with carrots.
He handed one to Claire, expecting to assist her in feeding them but she took it with confidence, and shoved it right into the horse's waiting mouth, letting his lips and teeth graze her palm.
He observed her with interest.
"Do you have horses?" he asked. He knew she didn't - couldn't - possess any of her own because of her position at the Shelby household, she was too comfortable around them to not have one at some point. Or perhaps it was rather that she worked at a stable.
"My family," she admitted, not thinking twice on divulging the information.
They each had their own Andalusian horse. One Andalusian was worth more than two of Desmond's Thoroughbreds. But of course, she did not mention that.
"You never speak of your family," Sam said quietly - but not weakly. He didn't say it to pull information from her. It was merely a fact.
"No, I suppose I don't."
Claire focused her attention on one of the black Thoroughbreds. There was a silence between them, and while it was still comfortable, she felt like she had to explain. Or at least say something more, especially because here she was - visiting Sam's family when she'd barely mentioned her own.
But what would she say? A lie that they were alive? Then she'd have to elaborate on what they do, where they are, why she's not with them…
"They're dead."
Sam's head whipped to hers. He didn't mean for the quick motion but… he wasn't expecting that.
He waited for her to continue. Her face had stilled, fallen to sadness, and he had the overwhelming feeling of wanting to pull her to him. Hold her.
"They died a long, long time ago," she lied. "I grew up with horses." A truth.
Sam stepped closer to her, his fingers grazing her hips. She looked up at him, letting him get next to her. Letting him think this was just as intimate as he thought it was.
"I'm sorry," he said. But the apology did nothing for Claire. It was the same as always.
He lowered his head until he hovered over hers. A breath away. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her acceptance. She lifted her nose to his - there it was, the indication for him to continue. And so he did.
He kissed for the first time that day. And she let herself fall into it. A distraction from the loss. A distraction surrounded with awful reminders of her family, as ironic as it was.
It wouldn't be the last time he'd kiss her that day. Or tomorrow.
He couldn't get enough. It fueled him like gasoline to a fire.
Their kiss deepened until they were breathless. Until she had to break away only to get a gasp of air. Until their heads clouded with only desire.
His hands branded her skin wherever he touched her. The small gap of skin beneath her skirt and blouse at her waist, the back of her neck. And she finally grazed her fingers through his hair.
Sam breathed a laugh. She smiled up at him - finding herself pressed against the fence of the stables.
She hadn't kissed like that in years.
Claire tried to control her breathing as Sam pressed his lips against her forehead.
"As much as I'd rather stay here, we should get back into the house. Beth will have a fit if she has to wait any longer to meet you."
His words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect on Claire. She swallowed her nerves; her tongue suddenly weighing heavy in her mouth.
"Sounds good," she agreed. She cast one last look at the horses before Sam led her back to the house.
"We'll go for a ride this afternoon, eh?"
Claire tried to match his step as they walked the gravel path. She hung onto his arm, letting his size comfort her.
"Perfect." She wanted nothing more.
As they neared the house, the garden began to extend into the lawn. Vivid flowers bloomed despite the cold air. Claire slowed to observe each flower. She recognized the snowdrops and leucojum that lined the path, the English primrose and even witch hazel.
Sam stopped and removed himself from Claire. He bent over a particular bush, his back to Claire.
"What are you-"
He turned on his heel to her, presenting an unusual but striking bouquet of black tulips, daffodils, and camellias.
"My cousin has one of the most beautiful gardens I've seen, and he lacks any of it inside his home."
"Now that you say it, that observation is quite correct," Claire smiled at him, taking the makeshift bouquet. It was rather pretty for such a random moment.
"Perhaps we can ask one of his house staff to fetch a vase for it. I'm sure Beth would love it."
Sam ushered her to the house again, his hand at her back. "Great idea," she agreed.
The rest of the Frasiers had arrived when Claire and Sam were at the stables. From the patio entrance, Claire heard the ruckus from the floor above. She waited with Sam as one of the servants took the flowers to find a vase.
"Here, madam," the young woman said, returning with a amphora-shaped vase finished with gold stenciling. It made the bouquet look complete.
"Thank you so much." Claire took it from her, eyeing the girl.
Was this what she looked like? A servant in a stately home. Obedient and passive.
Could this girl have secrets like hers? The girl was pretty - plain, but pretty. Her light brown hair was a near perfect match to her eyes, where there was a dullness.
Perhaps she did have her own awful secrets.
Claire turned away from her, back to Sam, and they ascended the stairs where his family waited.
He led her down a hall, the same hallway as her bedroom. Noise came from the same lounge she found Sam and his cousin in earlier.
This was it.
Claire smiled to herself - pasting a grin on her face that she knew looked good as Sam was two steps from entering the room. He didn't stop outside the doorway. In her head, she thought he might have - to warn her, reassure her, or to let her enter first.
But she followed him with her head high - ever the picture of confidence. And she took a step into the room, meeting the faces of his family who were in energetic conversation - and froze.
There - in the corner with her back to her - was a woman with dark hair perfectly coiled in a twisted bun wearing a vivid purple coat…
She'd seen that coat before.
The same coat that only her sister, Neta, would wear.
The same hair. The same height.
Neta.
The vase slipped from Claire's fingers, causing everyone in the room to jolt and stare at Claire and the broken glass that lay at her feet. The flowers fell flat on the floor in a miserable puddle of water.
The woman in the purple coat turned to her.
Her face was round and pale - too round and too pale to be Neta.
Her lips were too big to be Neta's.
Her eyes were too dark to be Neta's.
Sam rushed to her but Claire didn't hear what he said.
It was not Neta. And like the shattered vase, something shattered in Evelyn, too.
Hi everyone :)
I know it's been a long, long time - but I have been here this whole time with this story in my mind reading reviews and knowing I need to just do the damn thing and write. But I've been busy - I started my own book. It's been a long time coming and in this case, I've decided to just do the damn thing and make myself start AND finish a story - in this case, a fantasy/romance series.
Besides that, I vow to continue this story. It's too much of a passion for me not too so please just bear with me in case it takes a while to update :) I will try, try, try to be better especially now that I got the ball rolling again. I promise this story will not be abandoned.
This may be a long shot, but I am looking for a beta reader for my new series for my book. I have high hopes for this so its not some fluke of a story - if any of you have read the A Court of Thorns and Roses series and all others like it... I am looking for you. Enemies to lovers, smut, BUT a good plot and world building... this is what I'm trying to do so if anybody is interested, please message me. I already have a plot for this series as well as an entire prequel series that will go even more into the world I am creating. I am currently working on finalizing the pages to send to a publishing agent - but I want the opinion(s) of others who love to read as much as I do.
Thank you everyone who has read this story. Your comments really mean the world to me and they really are the driving factor for me to continue writing.