Page 3 of Forbidden: Claude

“The missive said you wanted me here to participate in the celebration and that Charlotte was looking forward to it. I figured you were talking about her birthday.”

“I did say that, but it wasn’t just Charlotte’s birthday I meant.”

“It wasn’t?” Claude chuckled. “Well, I know it’s not your birthday, and neither is it Father’s, so what do you mean? I don’t make a journey to England for anyone unless they are important to me.”

“That’s right,” said John. “That is why your mother sent for you even though I told her it was a bad idea.”

“What was a bad idea?” asked Claude, feeling a knot forming in his stomach. Somehow, he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. “What is it we are celebrating?”

“Hello, Claude,” came a voice from a horse and cart that pulled up next to him. Claude slowed his horse and turned around. His eyes fell on Lady Rose sitting inside the cart next to another woman who was driving.

“Rose.” His voice came out barely above a whisper. Instantly, he became tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say. His heart sped up, and the pounding of his pulse in his ears grew deafening.

Here was Rose, no longer a young girl like when he’d left her. Instead, she was a curvy, beautiful woman. Her long, blond hair was pulled back in a braid, and her bright blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight as she smiled at him. Dressed in a burgundy velvet gown, she looked like a princess with the metal, jeweled circlet on her head.

“It is such a surprise to see you,” she told him, sounding very pleased. Her voice was soft and sweet, just how he’d remembered. “This is my nursemaid, Evelina,” she said, nodding toward the woman next to her, but Claude wasn’t looking at anyone but Rose.

Finally, Claude found the words to speak. “My mother sent me a message to come to England. She told me she would not take no for answer. I am here for the birthday celebration,” he told her.

“I didn’t think you’d come since you never even sent a missive when my brothers Dunmor and Harry were born.”

A little boy popped his head up over the back of the wagon seat. Big, brown eyes stared at him in question.

“I’ll bet you’re Harry,” said Claude. “Where are your brothers?” Claude only knew one of Rose’s brothers. When he trained as his father’s squire for two years, Rose’s brother, Torrence, had been born to her father and his new Scottish wife, Isobel.

“Yes, this is Harry, but he is shy and doesn’t talk to strangers,” Rose explained. “Today is his birthday, and he is four years old.”

It didn’t feel right to Claude when Rose referred to him as a stranger, but he realized that was precisely what he was. He had left when Rose married Toft, never having the courage to return. It had been too hard to watch Rose being in love with Toft when all he ever wanted was for her to be in love with him.

“So, it looks as if there is a double birthday celebration after all,” said Claude, holding tighter to his sister as she squirmed and almost fell out of the saddle.

“Aye, my parents are back at the castle preparing for the feast,” Rose informed him. “They will be happy to see you after all this time. Toft is there, too. My husband will be anxious to see you again as well. We are all happy you finally came back to England.”

Rose referring to Toft as her husband was like a knife being plunged directly into Claude’s heart. He had no desire to see Toft, although he held nothing against the man. Nothing that is, except for the fact that he married the girl that Claude wanted for his own.

“My lady,” said the nursemaid, Evelina, speaking ever so softly. She seemed to be hiding her face under the hood of her cape, and all Claude could see were shadows. “You shouldn’t be out here on the docks. Your husband will not be happy that you left the castle in your condition.”

“Neither will your father be happy, Rose,” added John, turning and riding his horse back to join them. “You know how protective Conlin is about things like this.”

“Things like what?” asked Claude, feeling shaken since it was apparent there was something they were all hiding from him.

Rose smiled at Claude and rubbed her belly. “This is what they are talking about, Claude. I was the one who asked Celestine to summon you. But it wasn’t because of Harry or Charlotte’s birthdays. It was because I have been ill lately. My father and husband are leaving tomorrow to give their two weeks’ service to the king. I was frightened and wanted you here in their absence when I birthed my baby.”

Claude’s eyes focused on the large swell of Rose’s stomach. She looked as if she were going to pop. He’d been so entranced by her eyes he hadn’t even noticed her belly until now. “Y-you’re pregnant,” he stammered.

“Yes, I am. And after losing two babies in the past six years, my father is very worried I will lose this one, too. You remember that he has lost five children as well as a wife. Although he has three sons now with Isobel, I am his only daughter. I want more than anything to give him grandchildren, but I have to admit I am terrified that it might never happen.”

Claude was surprised at hearing Rose had lost two babies and didn’t know what to say. “Nay, don’t be frightened,” said Claude, instantly wanting to comfort the girl the way she’d comforted him so many years ago.

“I won’t be frightened anymore now that you are here, Claude,” she told him. “You are a good friend of mine. It broke my heart when you left England and didn’t return.”

If only she knew he’d left because she had broken his heart in more ways than one.

“My lady, please,” begged Evelina, very anxious to leave. “We need to get back to the castle, tout de suite.”

Claude’s head snapped up at hearing the nursemaid speak French. She sounded different than an Englishwoman speaking his language. He heard something in her voice that told him she was from his homeland.

“Are you from France?” he asked the girl. Her body stiffened, and she grabbed the reins of the horse tighter. She didn’t answer, and neither did she look at him.