Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.
I do not own Merlin or the characters and I especially do not own Wicked In Your Arms.
"Gwen, my dear girl! I can't properly express my relief to have find you at last!"
Gwen stared up at the boy she'd known all her life. He was a man now...the very one she had once thought she would wake up with in her twilight years.
It was with some bemusement that she studied him with fresh eyes and felt...nothing.
He seemed smaller than she remembered. His eyes were rather beady, his gaze slitted with a cagey look to them. And the colour? A bland shade of brown.
His hair? An equally bland brown.
Strange how none of it made an impression on her now.
Thomas seized Gwen's hand with no care for their audience.
"I've been looking for you!"
Horrified, she shook her head and attempted to tug her hand free. Then a thought hit her and she had to look...
Her gaze slid to Arthur but he was no longer watching her. His stare was fixed with deadly intent on Thomas.
She shivered at the ruthless glitter in his blue-grey eyes.
She'd never seen him look such a way, and she felt convinced she had an image of him in war, the battle lust bright in his gaze.
Thomas' voice intruded, pulling her attention...
"I've searched everywhere for you."
She shook her head.
"Why?"
At this question, he glanced around them and she managed to free her hand and bury it in her skirts.
"Miss Davies?" the dowager demanded from where she sat, perking to life at the sudden drama unfolding. "Who is this...person?"
"Your Grace." Gwen waved a hand towards Thomas, seeing no way around the introduction. "This is Mr. Partridge. We were...neighbors in Wales."
She sent Thomas a warning glance that urged him not to announce himself as her former employer.
Right at that moment her father arrived, his gaze immediately landing on Thomas hovering near her. Sharp suspicion flared in his eyes...
"Gwen, what is the meaning of this?" he asked.
He swept a measuring gaze over Thomas, doubtlessly noting his fine cloak and Hessians. But Gwen sensed his barely checked aggression. The fact that Thomas was a gentleman was likely the only thing stilling him from leaping upon him.
"Mr. Davies." Thomas dipped his head, greeting her father with the confidence of a man accustomed to getting his way.
'Not always. He couldn't get me,' Gwen reminded herself.
Thomas went on...
"A pleasure, sir. I've heard a great deal about you."
'Did you now? Liar!' Gwen's thoughts screamed.
"So glad to finally make your acquaintance. I hope you do not mind me tracking you down like this. I called upon you in town and they told me how I might find you."
"My staff told you where I went?" Mr. Davies frowned slightly. "Seems my people aren't as loyal as I thought."
Thomas cleared his throat awkwardly. And for the first time, unease flickered over his face.
His hand slipped back on Gwen's arm as if seeking to reclaim his confidence. But she shook her arm free from his grip, beyond irritated.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
She did not bother to hide her annoyance. Or bewilderment.
He turned his attention back to her and gave her a slow, deep smile, followed with a quick, smug wink.
She blinked, her nerves bristling with agitation. She remembered that smile and that wink. She remembered how they had affected her before.
And how they failed to affect her now.
She shook her head, wondering what had ever possessed her to think so highly of this man.
Instead of answering her question, he turned back to her father...
"Mr. Davies, might we have a word in private?" He slid Gwen a knowing look as he said this...and again that infernal wink.
She frowned, utterly baffled.
Why was he here?
Why would he want to speak with her father?
For a moment, Reginald Davies looked as though he might demand an explanation right there and then, but then he glanced around at their captivated audience and gruffly said,
"I suppose so. I'm sure we can find someplace private to talk."
At that, he motioned a servant forward and spoke to her in low tones.
Meanwhile, Gwen could only stare at Thomas, grappling with the collision of past and present before her very eyes.
Suddenly, him and her father were moving...
Not about to let them depart the room without her, she lifted her skirts to follow.
Her father hesitated, gauging her with a look, but she lifted her chin and gave him a very determined stare, conveying that he would not be conversing about her with Thomas while she was not present.
She would know what was afoot.
Defeated, Gwen's father motioned for her to precede him and she fell in line behind the maid leading them to the small back parlour.
And it took every ounce of will not to look behind her for a glimpse of the prince.
Was he still watching her?
Was he still watching Thomas with that murderous gaze?
She imagined he was.
Thanks to Thomas' mysterious arrival, every member of their party was probably watching her.
She shivered... Attention was something she did not want or need.
Arriving in the cozy parlour, the maid left them alone, closing the door and closeting the three of them in.
Crossing her arms, Gwen faced Thomas...
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for you, of course."
She dropped her arms and looked at him in utter incredulity.
"What for?"
He looked uncertain.
"Gwen," he said softly, sounding pathetically hurt. "I thought you would be glad to see me, my love."
She cringed.
"Don't call me that!"
He pouted as though her words wounded him.
"What makes you think I would want to see you? I left home. Did my resignation not convey that I wanted nothing more to do with you?"
"Will someone tell me what this is all about?" her father blustered. "I've a fine bowl of venison stew growing cold as we stand here."
"Dad, this is Thomas Partridge. You may recall, that when your man located me, I was working on his estate as his game master."
"Oh. Partridge. That's right." her father grunted, thoroughly unimpressed as he looked Thomas over. "Thought the name was familiar."
Thomas snapped his heels together, standing tall and erect as though he was facing a firing squad...
"Yes, Mr. Davies. I quickly realized my mistake in letting your daughter go. I should've never let her leave my life."
"You didn't let me do anything," Gwen helpfully pointed out. Her hands opened and shut into fists at her sides. "I chose to leave because I had no wish to remain on as your mistress. You do recall that, do you not, Thomas? You refused to marry me, but wished to take our relationship to a more intimate level."
Faint colour stained Thomas' swarthy cheeks. And his eyes darted nervously at Gwen's father.
"That was wretched of me, I confess. My apologies."
Mr. Davies snorted.
"You've got gall calling upon me after you've propositioned my daughter. I should put a bullet through you."
At that, Thomas visibly swallowed.
Gwen, however, rolled her eyes at her father... At what sounded like actual fatherly protectiveness...directed solely at Thomas for doing exactly what he did to her own mother.
Still...
The notion did curl warmly around her heart.
Thomas held out his hands in supplication...
"I've come to make amends."
Gwen crossed arms once again.
"Is that so? And how do you intend to do that?" she asked.
"By marrying you, of course."
Abruptly, she dropped her arms.
"Marry me?"
Mr. Davies laughed roughly, shaking his head from side-to-side.
"Too late on that score, lad. Gwen is destined for bigger fish than you."
Thomas' features reddened.
"I'm considered quite the catch back home," he said.
"Aye, back home. But you're in a different pond now!"
Thomas slid angry eyes from Mr. Davies to Gwen...
"This is up to you, Gwen. We don't need his approval."
Reginald Davies sobered instantly, all laughter fleeing his voice as he said,
"Actually you do, you little bastard! If you think you'll get one coin of mine, you're mistaken!"
Thomas blinked in such an astonished way that Gwen instantly understood. It all made perfect sense...
Somehow, someway, he'd learned of her sudden turn of fortune. And he was here for one reason and one reason only.
She was an heiress now and worth his time. And that is exactly what brought him sniffing about now.
"So. How did you find out?" Gwen asked.
Thomas stared at her for a long moment, not understanding. Or feigning to not understand.
She asked again, her voice a snapping bite on the air...
"Come now, Thomas, the truth. How did you find out?"
He pulled back his shoulder and stared at her coolly, the lovesick swain gone...
"The Reverend and Mrs. Woodward returned from their trip to town. It seems they saw you at the opera."
Gwen smiled mirthlessly, nodding as she recalled bumping into the couple. And what was especially memorable, was their sagging mouths when they'd seen her in her fine silks.
"Ah, the lovely Woodward's. Carried tales of me, did they? Let everyone know the bastard of Wales had found herself a fortune. I should've guessed."
It was actually difficult to say who gossiped more...the reverend or his wife.
"She's too smart for the likes of you, lad. Best return home," Mr. Davies advised. "You'll not snare yourself an heiress here."
Thomas flushed.
"Gwen," he began. "What about everything we've shared?"
"You know...it's all a bit foggy," she said.
"That's not true," he denied, his chest swelling. Clearly he did not believe any woman could forget him.
Gwen glared at him..
"You're unbelievable! Did you truly think I would toss my arms around you with gratitude?"
He shrugged.
"You wanted me then..."
"That was then, Thomas! This is now!" She moved towards the parlour door... Pulling it open, she turned to face the boy she'd spent the better part of her life pining after... and felt nothing. "Good-bye, Thomas. Sorry you made the journey for nothing."
Thomas' face grew splotchy.
"This is your last chance. I shan't ask again, Gwen."
She cocked her head and smiled sweetly at him.
"I truly hope not."
With his face burning brighter, Thomas stormed past Gwen and out the small parlour.
Once he was gone, her shoulders slumped and the smile slipped from her face.
Suddenly, she felt very wearied.
"You all right?" her father asked gruffly.
She stared at him, surprised that he should even care to ask, or that he still stood here and had not rushed back to finish his stew.
She nodded.
"I'll be fine. I just need a few moments."
Mr. Davies tugged on his cuffs as if suddenly uncomfortable.
"I expect you can do a lot better than him, Gwen. Fortune or no fortune."
Gwen looked at him sharply, quite certain he had not meant to compliment her.
"Thank you."
"Forget about him. You'll find yourself a better man."
"I know, I know." She sighed, the weariness back. "Someone titled."
"Well, yes. But perhaps, someone who can appreciate you too...and not be so bloody obvious about the fact that he's after your dowry. You've a lot to recommend you besides my fortune."
Gwen blinked, unsure what to make of the fact that her father was actually being kind to her... As a true father would be.
"Yes," she agreed, a smile twitching her lips. "He could at least possess intelligence enough to disguise the fact that he only wants your money."
With another nod and tug on his waistcoat, her father cleared his throat...
"I'm going to return to my dinner."
"Enjoy," she murmured. And as he passed through the door, she added. "And...thank you."
He looked over his shoulder, the uncomfortable expression once again on his face.
"For what?"
"Acting like a father."
A flicker of emotion cracked his gruff exterior...
"Th-that's what I am. Like it or not, I'm your father."
She smiled at him, surprised at how easy it was to do so.
"I like it."
He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with what amounted to her praise.
"Don't tarry. You need to eat."
She nodded.
"I'll be along soon."
With a nod of his own, he turned and left the room.
Gwen watched her father walk from sight before moving back into the parlour and dropping onto an overstuffed chair, convinced she could fall asleep and spend the night right there.
"Guinevere."
Opening her eyes, her heart skipped to life to see Arthur crossing the threshold.
She shot upright...
"Arthur."
He stopped in front of her chair. Squatting down before her, he took her chilled hand into his own.
"Are you all right?"
She gave a small smile, her heart softening at the concern in his voice.
"I'm fine." She looked down at his large hand her small one clasped in it. "Fine now any rate."
She released a pent-up breath. Just how true that was, scared her. In a mere moment, his presence could put all her troubles to rest.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
She waved a hand dismissively, hoping he would not force the topic of Thomas.
"No one."
"He's clearly not no one."
"His name is Thomas Partridge."
"Who is he to you?" A muscle rippled the skin of his jaw and that dark look came back into his eyes. "He touched you with much familiarity," he added in a thick voice.
"He's no one to me," she insisted. "Let us just leave it at that."
"How do you come to know him? What was he doing here? He was looking for you specifically."
"After my other father passed on, I stayed on as his gamekeeper. He came here to convince me to go back with him."
Arthur's eyes narrowed...
"And why would he want you to do that?"
"Because he thought I would want to," Gwen hedged, looking down at her lap where their fingers clung to each other.
The prince's fingers tightened the slightest amount around hers, clearly dissatisfied with her vague response.
"Guinevere," he prompted.
She sighed and continued, relenting to the embarrassing truth...
"Thomas has learned that I'm an heiress now. He wants my money...or rather, my father's. The same as every other man that pays me the slightest heed." She snorted. "Well, except you. To the rest I'm simply a fat banknote."
"He proposed to you then?"
She nodded.
"Only, he's lacking the required title to meet my father's criteria... Oh, and there's the fact that I can't stomach the sight of him. That, too. Those factors make it hard to accept an offer of marriage from such a man."
"I sense bitterness in you. Why do you dislike him so much? Did he do...something to you?"
She inhaled a bracing breath.
"He'd promised to marry me for years."
Arthur's fingers almost hurt where they were wrapped around hers.
"Are you in love with him?"
"No! God, no! He's a wretch. I was just inexperienced. It took me a while to realize what he truly was. When I did I left Wales. I couldn't stay on."
"What happened?"
"For years, he kept me dangling on a hook with the promise of marriage."
She winced, thinking how foolish she'd been to ever believe him. To ever even want him.
She went on...
"Finally, he admitted he could never marry me. He confessed to my face that I was beneath him and that he must marry someone respectable... Someone with a huge dowry." She laughed lightly. "But he didn't want me to be totally disappointed. So he kindly offered to keep me on as his game master, so long as I agreed to be his mistress. A role he thought me aptly suited for." She lifted one shoulder. "And that's when I decided I would leave Wales. My father's summons came not a moment too soon."
Arthur growled beneath his breath...
"Bastard!"
Gwen looked him steadily in the face.
"And why would you say that? He's not so unlike you. Because you've offered me nothing but a place in your bed."
Even as she uttered the words, she regretted them and knew them to be untrue. He was nothing like Thomas. He possessed responsibilities too great to let himself take her for a wife.
She also knew he cared for her, and that he would consider her for a wife if he could.
Arthur blinked, his hand loosening around Gwen's.
"If that's how you see me, why are you even talking to me? Why even let me touch you?" he asked.
'Because I love you.'
The realization stunned her, knocked the wind loose from her chest and filled her with raw panic. It only confirmed in her mind what she had to do...
She blinked, fighting back the burn in her eyes. She couldn't break down and weep now. She had to end this before they became any more entangled.
Before it became impossible to walk away.
"Good question," she replied through numb lips. As much as it hurt to say the words, they needed to be said. "This can't continue. We can't."
Every moment with the prince pushed her closer to ruin. To say nothing of the danger to her heart. And as much as severing with him hurt, if she delayed any longer she might not be able to extricate herself at all.
She'd be lost to him. And she didn't want to make this any harder for him either.
He had a duty to perform. It impacted thousands of people... an entire kingdom. And she couldn't be so selfish as to put her own desires first.
As if burned from the touch of Gwen, Arthur dropped his hand completely from hers and rose to his full looming height.
Her gaze drifted up to his face, drinking in the sight of him as if it were her last. And essentially it was... Because the next time she saw him, there would be nothing between them.
He stared down at her so impassively, the old prince, austere and unfeeling again.
She licked her lips.
"Good-bye, Arthur."
He didn't move for the longest moment. And she held her breath, willing him to leave.
Willing him to stay...
Finally, without a word, he turned on his heels and departed the room with solid steps.
Gwen released the breath she had been holding and remained in her chair, as still as stone for several moments.
The ticking clock on the mantel timing the seconds it took her heart to break.
Suddenly, a sob broke from her lips and she collapsed, dropping her head into her shuddering lap.
It didn't take long at all.
Thanks to all for their kind concern. I am well physically, but emotionally, that's another story. I've lost a few friends recently, but in the early hours of Saturday morning I lost a dear family member. It was a bitter pill to swallow and we're all trying to be strong but it's a bit tough at the moment.
To my dear Beverley...Bev as I call her...I miss our chats and the way you always make me laugh, but I especially miss you. Sleep in peace.
Stay safe friends!
