Page 1 of Awakening a Lord's Desires
Chapter 1
Kent, 1811, June
Miss Caroline Turner loved the color green. It made her feel fresh and revitalised, as if there was nothing wrong with the world. An English summer was so full of green that it made her heart happy, even if there was little else to be happy about. She walked along her usual path, basket in hand.
With a hand over her eyes, she looked up to the bright blue sky with a smile. Her horse was tied to a tree trunk not far off, and the mare munched happily on the fresh green grass. To her, this was true freedom, out from under the constraints that held her back in the confines of her home.
It was a rare sunny day, even though it was still morning, and Caroline meant to enjoy it. Mrs Winters, the family cook, had tried to deny her the chance to get out of doors to collect herbs, but Caroline would not be stopped.
It is the only time I have to live and breathe as I see fit.
“Your stepmother will have my head if she finds out that I’ve let you out, on your own, when anyone could come ’round, decent young lady as you are. What about the scoundrels and gypsies that wander about these parts?” Mrs Winters had said.
“If you think my stepmother cares a whit about what happens to me, then you have it wrong,” Caroline replied in a dry tone.
Mrs Winters had eventually agreed, and Caroline had had to work hard not to leap out of doors into the sunshine with her basket as she went to find her horse. That morning, she wore a simple day dress and boots, and her hair was tied back with a strip of cloth.
The only reason her stepmother, Baroness Penelope Wentworth, wished to keep Caroline indoors was so that she did not embarrass her in front of their neighbours. She did not wish for said neighbours, who were also out at their estates in the Kentish countryside, to be scandalized by Caroline and all her “indecorous” ways, as Penelope would call them.
With a sigh, Caroline held tight to her basket and kept her eyes along the edge of the meadow and the woods. Mrs Winters had begun to create a garden in the back of the house, but she was not a skilled gardener, and so things hadn’t grown as she’d hoped.
Caroline was thankful for that, for it meant that she was able to search out of doors for those herbs that were missing, allowing herself to breathe and to stretch her legs. At the same time, she could let her mind wander, dreaming about a life far, far away from Kent; far, far away from London. Where she could be just as scandalous as she wished.
“Ah, here we are,” she whispered to herself, spying a rosemary plant alongside tall meadow grass.
With a smile, she knelt down, putting her basket on the grass beside her. She reached into it to remove a knife, and she cut the rosemary stems, laying them gently into her basket.
“That should be enough, I think,” she continued speaking to herself. “Mrs Winters’ potatoes will be delicious this eve.”
Standing, she brushed the dirt from the knees of her dress and frowned when she saw a stain. She closed her eyes with a sigh, hoping she would not come across her stepmother when she returned to the house. Penelope would take at least five minutes to scold her harshly for her lack of decorum, thinking that she looked as if she’d been tupped in the woods, for only women such as that dirtied their skirts.
If only I had been.
The thought came to her unbidden, and she blushed.
If her stepmother would mention such a thing, Caroline would reply as she usually did. “No one is around the woods, Penelope, for they do not like them. People who come to stay nearby prefer the larger main road for their rides.”
That was what she liked about this dirt path, especially. She could be on her own, do anything she pleased, and she could think her own thoughts without her stepmother attempting to command her. When she leaned down to pick up her basket again, she heard the sound of hooves on the soft ground.
“Oh no! Beauty better not have gotten loose!” she cried to herself, and then, picking up her skirts, she raced back the way she’d come.
But then she realised the hooves were coming from behind her. Turning, she gasped when she saw a horse and rider barreling her way, and just before they came to trample her, she jumped out of the way into the edge of the woods. A sharp pain struck her head, but she kept low and out of sight as she tried to assess her other injuries.
She heard the rider yell and the horse slowed, the rider jumping down onto the dirt road. Caroline’s heart raced. She had heard of young ladies being ravished in the woods, when out on their own. Mostly from frightening tales in the newspapers, ladies’ magazines, or bookshops, but she’d never imagined that something like that could really happen. And not on such a bright, sunshiny day.
Her one hand was on her head, where she’d struck a tree trunk, but she still lay on the ground in the grass at the foot of the tree, wondering if she should stand and run or stay where she was, hoping she remained hidden from the rider himself. She closed her eyes when she heard the footsteps coming nearer. And she was just about to scream when she felt a touch on her arm.
“Dear God! Forgive me, miss! I did not see you. Are you quite well?”
Caroline turned to look up at the soft, kind voice. Her blue eyes met a pair of striking hazel ones, paired with a handsome, striking smile.
“Oh,” she replied, unable to think of anything more sensible than that as he helped her to her feet.
She swallowed as he bent his head to catch her gaze. He was very tall and broad, with dark brown wavy hair that made him look rather roguish, indeed. But it was his eyes that spoke of kindness and care. Her cheeks warmed at the mere handsome sight of him, and her heart had begun to flutter foolishly.
“Are you well, miss?” he asked again, frowning at her.
“Y-yes,” she said unsteadily. “I am well.”
