Title: Song of the Siren
Author: Twilightstaruby
Disclaimers: All Night World concepts belongs to L.J.Smith. Kiele and the other characters in the story belong to me.
'T is believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee
Was a siren of old who sung under the sea.
-Thomas Moore(1779-1852), The Origin of the Harp
Chapter Four
The Past,
England, 1812
Christian Gabriel Shadrach Claymore, fifth Duke of Rutherford, reveled in the quiet and the peacefulness the forests of Rutherford offered as he rode astride his stallion, Black Fury, through the thick forestry. The quiet morning ride was a welcome relief from the balls and administrative work that now filled up his days since his father's demise a year ago.
There had been no love lost between the old Duke of Rutherford and his oldest son, though the old man had doted on his youngest son, Theorn. The Duke had hated the mere sight of him since he was little. Christian remembered the times when he was little he had tried every way and methods possible to make the Duke show simply a bit of affection or pride in him. Finally, Christian had lost hope that the man would ever return his love and the hopelessness inside him turned into hatred towards the man who had sired him. He never understood why the Duke had loathed the sight of him and never once did the Duke seen fit to tell him. Until the day he was on his deathbed.
Christian hadn't wanted to return; he had no desire to face a man who had hated him and whom he hated for hating him. It was only under the pleading of his younger brother, whom Christian always loved despite every thing, that he returned. There, he finally learnt the truth of his father's hatred: that he resembled his mother, who had cheated on the Duke with another man when she tried to elope with her lover, together with the Rutherford's heirloom jewels.
Unfortunately for the Duchess and fortunately for the jewels, she slipped from the window ledge of her bedroom window and fell to her death on the ground below. The jewels were recovered, but the Duke never forgave the woman who had cheated on him. Unable to take out his fury on the dead, he had turned it instead on his unsuspecting six-year-old son, who resembled his mother uncannily with his arresting features.
The Duke had asked for his forgiveness, but Christian simply couldn't find it in himself to forgive the man who had, because of his wife's infidelity, made his childhood a living hell. He had left the place that had made up much of his unhappy childhood without once looking back, taking with him all his hatred for the selfish man he used to call father. Hours later, the Duke died, leaving to his eldest son the title of the fifth Duke of Rutherford and all the prestige that came with it.
A sardonic smile twisted Christian's lips as he thought of his father's last attempt at hoping to get his son's forgiveness. He hadn't even wanted the title and every thing that came with it. It reminded him too much of his father and his childhood.
He had tried to get Theorn to accept the title instead, but his brother had refused, saying that he should keep whatever that had been given to him. Besides, Theorn had said, he was contented to be just what he was. He grinned then, saying that he would rather be a plain Mister than a Duke, which came together with all the matchmaking mothers in the district and their empty headed daughters.
Christian groaned at the reminder of that. Ever since he had acquired the title and wealth that came with it, combined with his good looks, he was now the 'Darling of the Ton', as his brother had said laughingly. The matchmaking mothers of the tons had chased after him with their daughters in tow with the doggedness of a leech. A few hundred of them, to be exact.
It made Christian dread the up-coming ball hosted by the Ashcrofts. Unfortunately, the Ashcrofts were an important family in the standards of the ton and there was no way Christian could avoid without it looking like a slight on them. Moreover, the Ashcrofts were an old family friend. They were the ones who had made Christian's childhood almost bearable.
Besides, he had already promised Grayson Ashcroft, his closest friend and the Earl of Langwood, that he would be there. Christian let out a sigh that echoed through the silent forest. Absentmindly, he turned Black Fury down the path that he knew would lead to a clearing in the forest that would allow Black Fury to rest and for him to be alone to think in beauty of nature.
As he neared the clearing, he heard a splash and humming of a jaunty tune that alerted him of someone's presence in the clearing. It annoyed him faintly at first to think that someone was trespassing, but then, he or she didn't seem to be doing anything harmful. Annoyance slowly faded to amusement and curiosity as he caught sight of a child clad in pale blue with a wide straw hat covering her hair soaking her bare feet in the river.
Not wanting to frighten off what seemed like a innocent child's enjoyment of the stream that flowed through the middle of the clearing, he alighted from Black Fury, tied him to a tree and stepped forward, planning to reveal himself to the child without frightening her.
Even though he was certain that he never made a sound, the child look suddenly towards where he was standing and asked in a soft melodious tone," Chris? Is that you?"
Taken aback, Christian gaped at the girl. He was sure that he had never met the girl before yet how did she know his name? And for her to call him so familiarly by his given name instead of the proper respect his title required was absurd. Yet, he was amused by the audacity of this tiny slip of a child. He prepared to step forward to fulfill her demand but it appeared that he had waited a tad to long to answer, for her voice rang out again clearly, this time tinged with annoyance and exasperation.
"Chris, come out of there or do I have to go in and drag you out?"
Eyebrows raised, Christian complied as he stepped out of undergrowth into the clearing. With a little bow, he said in a amused voice," What can I do for you, my lady?" When silence hung in the air, then a splash sounded after he had presented himself, he looked up to see the girl standing and her mouth hanging open in a most amusing manner before she closed it and demanded," Who are you?"
Raising a brow, he replied genially," Chris of course, my lady."
Raising her brow, she said in a all-knowing tone," You are most certainly not Chris."
Laughter threatened to overwhelm him as he replied," I most certainly am. There are other people out there also named Chris besides your friend, my lady."
Christian saw her pursed her full lips into a pout and grinned at the sight of it. Now that he was closer to her, he realized with a start that she wasn't at all the child he thought her to be. Her slender figure was draped most becomingly in a pale blue gown that emphasized her figure. Pale blond hair slipped from the hat to fall in a straight lock down to her slim waist. Her eyes were a most unusual shade of purple that dominated a sharp elfish face.
It reminded him of amethysts, ones that you could look into and lose yourself in. Her face wasn't beautiful by usual standards, yet it was arresting, compelling and full of gaiety that would draw people to her like moths.
"What are you doing here?" Christian grinned at her attempt to change the topic once she realized she was in the wrong. "Do you realize that you are trespassing?"
His eyes dancing with restrained laughter, Christian answered her in like," Do you realize that you are trespassing yourself, my lady?"
"I know the Duke himself. I am not sure you do." She said haughtily, her nose upturned. "But I will not to tell him about you trespassing his land today."
"I am sure you will not, my lady. For that, I am thankful," Laughter was evident in the tone of his voice as he replied in a choked voice. To avoid her noticing that he was laughing at her blatant lie, he tipped his face towards the sky. He then realized that it was almost noon and he needed to return back to Rutherford to deal with some administrative matters on the estates he had inherited. Regretting that he had to leave this enchanting slip of a girl, so different from the empty-headed misses that occupied London's ballrooms these days, he stepped forward to take her ungloved hand.
"Before I go, much as I hate to for it would deprive me of your lovely company, may I have the honor of knowing your name, my lady?"
A smile tugged at the edges of Christian's mouth as she appeared to consider whether to tell him her name, her beautiful eyes narrowed at his as she considered whether he might have something up his sleeves.
Finally, reluctance in her tone, she said, "Lady Gwenivere Sophia Thornton."
He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, knowing it wasn't proper yet he couldn't resist doing it. He looked up to see her cheeks flush with slight color and smiled inwardly to himself. "I'll take my leave then, Lady Gwenivere."
With that, he turned, planning to get back to Black Fury, when the sound of her voice stopped him. "May I know your name, sir?"
He turned back, contemplating whether to tell her his real name. On second thoughts, he decided to do so. With a flourished bow, he offered, "Christian Gabriel Shadrach Claymore, Duke of Rutherford at your service, my lady."
His last view of lady Gwenivere Sophia Thornton was of her with her mouth hanging open, speechless with horror.