Forever Be Mine

Chapter 1-2

“I…yes.” She almost faltered on the word she’d promised she would say. Suddenly things spun around her as the doors to the tearoom burst open and her parents, Bernadette and Hensley Lynton, rushed in.

“Oh, congratulations!” her mother cooed and gave her a light hug that lacked any real warmth. Her father smiled proudly and offered a hand to Callum so he could pull him in and slap him on the back.

“So glad to see you two finally settling things,” Hensley announced.

Celia looked between Callum and her parents, still uncertain. He was a good man, she knew that, and he would make a fine husband, at least as a companion. But they both loved other people.

This is what is expected of me. But I had dreams.

“She’s overwhelmed with happiness, aren’t you, dear?” Her mother gave her a hard nudge in the ribs.

The reality of the moment began to sink in. She’d been looking forward to her work in London at the architecture firm, but now she would have to add social duties to her life as a future countess in Scotland. And she always had Matthew to consider, since she couldn’t trust her parents to put the needs of their youngest child above their own.

“Perhaps it’s just nerves?” Callum suggested, his eyes dark with concern. But he understood what she was feeling, that sense of hope fading like a dying star, burning out far away in endless space. They were both giving up their hopes of being with the person they loved in order to help their families.

“Yes, she’s nervous,” her mother cut in. “But she’s thrilled, of course!”

Celia stared mutely at her mother, then at Callum. How was it that her life was going on without her in it? It was like she was trapped in a nightmare where she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

Callum grinned in pretend relief and clasped her hands in his and leaned down to brush his lips over hers. They were soft and warm, but there was no wild spark, no passion to excite her. He tried to kiss her a second longer, to make it look convincing, but when she didn’t respond he gently pulled back.

“I suppose we should get back to the party. Everyone will be missing us,” Callum said to her parents. “I should like to request that our engagement be kept a secret for a time. I believe a month before we announce it publicly would be in order.”

Her father was still smiling broadly. “Of course, of course.”

Celia’s throat tightened as she forced a bright smile back on her face. Callum and her father left the room, but she was rooted to the floor on a one-hundred-year-old oriental carpet. She knew it was 2019, so why did she feel like a woman trapped in the eighteenth century?

“Celia,” her mother hissed. “You will not mess this up for your father and me, do you understand? Callum will someday be the Earl of Cavanagh. You’ll be a countess. It’s more than your father and I could ever dream of. Our family needs this, not to mention poor Matthew.”

It seemed, despite most of England joining the world in the twenty-first century, some things hadn’t really changed in the last thousand years. Men still held fancy titles and still needed heirs to continue their lines. Which ultimately made women like her a commodity.

“Yes, Mother. I understand.” Celia repeated the words that were to become the nails in her invisible coffin. It was so easy for the rest of the world to do whatever they liked, marry and fall in love with whomever they chose.

“Mum, I’d like to go to Italy and see Aunt Holly before we make the engagement public.” Holly was one of the few members of Celia’s family whom she actually liked. It was a small and exclusive group comprised of her brother, her cousin Tristan, and Holly.

Her mother didn’t immediately say no, but the grim line of her over-red lips wasn’t a good sign either. “For the entire month?” she asked.

“I need this, Mum.” If her mother dared to try to stop her, she would go anyway. But after a moment of internal debate, she seemed to relent.

“I’ll check with your father, of course, but I imagine he’ll agree. You can take his jet.” It wasn’t really her father’s jet, rather it was Uncle Edward’s, but the Earl of Pembroke was fond of his sister and loaned them the use of it whenever they needed it.

“Thank you,” Celia murmured. A single month away from a future she didn’t want and couldn’t avoid. It would have to be enough.

“Take a minute to compose yourself, then join your fiancé at the party.” Her mother left her alone, and Celia sank down in the nearest chair.

Her red gown flowed around her like the petals of a rose, but it felt like a lie to wear a gown that her family could no longer afford. Later this evening, the rented gown would be returned to the store with no one the wiser. It was one more falsity among a dozen others in her life.

Struck with this thought, the tears came at last. Hard sobs choked her so that she couldn’t catch her breath. Until the moment Callum proposed, she hadn’t wanted to accept that this nightmare was real, that she would have to give up the last real dream she’d clung to her in life.

To be with Carter.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her blonde hair was down around her shoulders in perfect romantic waves, even though her mother had been most insistent she wear it up. Her eyes looked a bit red, and the tip of her nose was red too. It was far too obvious she’d been crying.

“Bloody hell,” she cursed, then smiled a little.

She blamed her cousin, Tristan, for her inner turmoil. Future earl, the tabloids’ beloved bad boy, and current besotted boyfriend of Celia’s new best friend, Kat. Come to think of it, she blamed Kat as well. If it hadn’t been for Kat’s charming American ways, Celia wouldn’t have spent so much time with the couple, which meant that she could have kept her distance from Carter, which would have made this easier. Given that Carter was Tristan’s best friend, it meant he was around altogether too much and yet never enough.

So it was really Tristan and Kat’s fault that she couldn’t come to terms with letting Carter go. Even though it was the right thing to do. She had no right to claim him. As a steward’s son, he would never have the kind of money their family needed. That Matthew needed.

Celia dabbed at her eyes and collected herself, just as her mother had instructed. She walked through her uncle’s grand house, preparing to face England’s high society once again. But as she took the entrance through to the servants’ hall, a shortcut she’d learned when she was seven, she caught sight of Carter again through one of the windows.

He still stood facing the crowds, milling about the tea tables in the gardens. The man looked perfect. Perfect and completely unattainable. He was twenty-six, and with his gorgeous heartbreaker looks, he was catching the eye of every lady, even the married ones. He watched the crowds, and raked a hand through his dark-gold hair, a habit he did only when he was bothered by something. Celia couldn’t help but wonder what preoccupied him. According to Tristan, he could have any woman he wanted. The thought made her stomach churn with jealousy, but she certainly had no right to tell him who he could be with.

She left through the door that led from the servants’ quarters to the gardens. Celia didn’t dare step out into the light and risk being seen.

Take Carter to Italy. Have a taste of the life you’ve always wanted with the man you’ve always desired. One last hurrah before it ends. Do it, or you’ll regret it.

She’d grown up watching him as a young boy, then as a lanky awkward teen, and finally a flirtatious young man. Now he was simply irresistible. She’d been tied to him like how a violin belonged with its bow her entire life, wanting nothing more than to make sweet music together, yet they’d never dared to play a note.

She knew he cared about her, possibly even loved her, though neither of them had ever dared breathe a word of it. He was too responsible, too dutiful, to ever cross that line. They’d kissed only once in their lives, the only time he’d ever lost control around her. But she’d tasted his longing for her in that kiss, felt the echoing loneliness and love for her in it. It had shaken her to her core and her even more afraid of her own feelings.

“Carter?” She spoke his name quietly, not wanting to draw attention from the crowds.

He spun around, lips parted, gray eyes haunted and yet so beautiful. Carter had the sort of masculine beauty that could stop a woman in her tracks, and yet he seemed entirely unaware of his effect. That only made him all the more desirable. She trembled as she thought of having him all to herself for a month.

Just the two of us. If he’ll let me.

“Celia? What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer him, she reached out, grabbed his tie, and dragged him back into the house, slamming the door behind them. The sounds of the party were muted, and the servants’ quarters were dim except for a distant light from the other end of the hall. Carter gripped her shoulders, and she shivered at the feel of his hands on her bare skin. These little moments were never enough. She struggled to remember what she wanted to tell him and, more importantly, what she wanted to ask him.

She hesitated, swallowed hard. “I have to tell you something.”

“Celia, what is it? Talk to me.” She could feel the tension radiating off him. One could only wonder what dire news he expected to hear.

She nodded to herself and continued.

“Callum proposed today. My parents are already talking about announcing the engagement in a month.” Unable to meet his gaze, she glanced down.

“I see,” was all Carter said.

“It’s for the best, you understand. If I marry him, he will pay for Matthew’s tuition to Ravenswood Academy. They have specialists and a great program focusing on math and science which he could really benefit from.”

“And you said yes.” His deep voice was as rich as brandy, but she heard the note of worry buried within.

Celia stared deep into his eyes, then slowly nodded. “I did. My job doesn’t pay enough to cover even a quarter of Matthew’s tuition.”

A stray tear trickled down her cheek. They were trapped. Callum was having to live a lie, she would have to marry for money, and the people they loved had to be abandoned.

“Poor Callum.” She thought of how happy he and Bryson had been for the last two years, but they’d had to keep their love a secret from his parents.

“Poor Callum?” Carter growled. “You talk about saving Matthew and worrying about Callum, but what about you? Don’t do this, Celia. Tell me you’ll stop it. He’s a nice enough bloke, but you can’t marry him, even if it is for Matthew. You won’t be happy.”

“I have to.” She pleaded with her eyes for him to understand, tracing her fingers along his tie, her fingertips touching the silver tie clip. She was unable to resist touching him.

Carter’s eyes warmed, his head dipping toward her, the suggestion of a kiss before he pulled away and looked into her face with a calmness that steadied her.

“I’ll find a way to help Matthew. Give me time.”

“No.” She pressed her hand against his warm chest. “There isn’t time. He’s already been accepted to the academy, and Callum’s already paid for his first semester.”

The wounded expression in Carter’s eyes nearly undid her. He’d wanted to be the one to help Matthew, she knew that, but it wasn’t possible.

“But you don’t love him. You can’t marry someone you don’t love.”

Her laugh was hollow. “Since when have I ever had a choice in who I love?”

Carter nodded at the party through the windows by the servants’ door. She caught a glimpse of her cousin Tristan and his girlfriend Kat. They were dancing together while a Beatles cover band played “Yellow Submarine.” Tristan spun Kat, and she laughed in delight. Nothing in the world was stopping those two from being together.

“If they can, we can,” Carter insisted, lifting her hand up to brush his lips over her knuckles. He seemed so certain, so sure as he spoke, yet she saw clear desperation in his eyes as he seemed to realize this was his last chance. He couldn’t accept the fact that it was already too late.