Forbidden Lady. Anne Herries

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Forbidden Lady - Anne Herries


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       ‘Does it still pain you?’

      ‘Would it give you pleasure to know that it does?’ Rob asked, and his hand went to his face, for he knew that she must be revolted by its ugliness. ‘Your brother told me that I had insulted you—and this was my punishment. I bear it with pride, for it is a constant reminder of the perfidy of women.’

      Her hand crept to her throat. She was wearing the trinket he had once given her, hung from a ribbon around her neck. His eyes followed her movement and she saw him frown as he looked at the jade heart.

      She raised her head proudly, meeting his eyes as anger bolstered her courage. ‘Believe what you will. It makes little difference now.’

      Rob came towards her, his expression stern, unforgiving. ‘I came to inform you that you are now my prisoner, lady,’ he said.

      Anne Herries lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books—although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. She is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize.

       Previous novels by the same author:

      MARRYING CAPTAIN JACK

      THE UNKNOWN HEIR

      THE HOMELESS HEIRESS

      THE RAKE’S REBELLIOUS LADY

      AN INNOCENT DEBUTANTE IN HANOVER SQUARE*

      THE MISTRESS OF HANOVER SQUARE*

      THE PIRATE’S WILLING CAPTIVE

       and in the Regency series The Steepwood Scandal:

      LORD RAVENSDEN’S MARRIAGE COUNTERFEIT EARL

       and in The Hellfire Mysteries:

      AN IMPROPER COMPANION

      A WEALTHY WIDOW

      A WORTHY GENTLEMAN

      Forbidden Lady

      Anne Herries

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       Prologue

      ‘Melissa!’ Rob cried, shock and despair in his face as he looked at the girl he loved and found her cold and remote, her eyes seeming to look straight through him. ‘You cannot mean it. I beg you, tell me it is not true!’

      Melissa stared at a point somewhere beyond his shoulder as she answered, ‘Your suit is unwelcome to me, Robert of Melford. I do not wish to wed you.’

      ‘Only yesterday you swore that you loved me,’ Rob said, a flash of accusation in his eyes now. ‘You laughed and kissed me and begged me to come here today and speak to your father…’ He took her by the upper arms, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. ‘Now you say you do not wish to be my wife? What has changed you? Tell me!’ In his passion he was so magnificent that she almost broke, but somehow…somehow she kept her body stiff and straight and raised her eyes to his.

      ‘I was merely playing a game,’ she told him, deliberately making her voice cold and toneless. ‘You are a fool to believe that I would truly wish to marry a man of your order. I am the daughter of a rich and powerful lord—and you are merely the son of a knight.’ Her laughter was false and shrill. ‘How could you think that I loved you? Leave this house now and never return!’

      Rob stared at her for a moment longer, hardly able to credit that she was saying these words. Had her father been in the room with them he might have wondered if she was being forced, but they were alone and he had been welcomed to the castle by Lord Whitbread’s steward before being brought here to speak with Melissa. Looking at her now, he saw how proud she was and realised that he had been mistaken about her nature.

      ‘You laugh, lady,’ he said, his voice harsh as he looked down into her lovely face. She had flawless skin, eyes that reminded him of a clear, mountain pool and red-gold hair that clustered about her face and fell to the small of her back in soft waves—but her words showed she was a heartless witch. ‘But do not forget me—for I shall not forget you and one day…’

      He left the threat in the air, turning to stride from the chamber. Melissa remained standing until the door closed and then she sagged, falling to her knees, her hands covering her face as the sobs broke from her. And then the tapestry behind her moved and a tall, heavily built man with a pockmarked face came out from the alcove behind it. Melissa rose to her feet and turned to look at him.

      ‘Are you satisfied, Father?’ she asked, her heart breaking. Yet pride returned as she met his stern gaze. ‘You will keep your promise to me now that I have sent him away as you demanded?’

      ‘He shall live, yes.’ Lord Whitbread grunted. ‘I doubt that puppy will come sniffing ‘round here again in a hurry. You did well, Melissa.’

      ‘And now you will send me to my aunt? You will allow me to live with her in the Abbey—and take my vows?’

      Lord Whitbread’s thin lips drew back in a sneer. ‘No, you may not. Take the veil you shall not. For this you would need my permission and I do not give it. In time I shall arrange a marriage for you. One that will bring credit to our family.’

      ‘But you promised…’ Melissa looked into his eyes and knew that he had lied to her. She had done what he demanded of her but he did not intend to keep his word. She moved towards him as the fear started up in her. ‘Father, you promised that he should be safe if I did what you want!’

      ‘I promised that he shall live,’ Lord Whitbread told her, his eyes glittering. ‘His life shall be spared, though I do not think he will thank you for it.’

      ‘What will you do to him?’

      ‘I have told Harold to have some sport,’ Lord Whitbread said, and his mouth curved in a cruel sneer. ‘You know your brother, Melissa.’

      ‘He is not my brother!’ Melissa cried. ‘That oafish brute is a bastard and no true…’ She gave a little scream as Lord Whitbread struck her across the mouth and she tasted blood.

      ‘Get to your room, girl, and stay there until I give you leave to come


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