Prologue
Anno Domini 1467
Charlotte Blake ran along the field almost involuntarily towards her house fence.
She ran as if a Bugaboo trailed her skirts.
She felt the soft pounding of her heart and the coarseness of the ground under her slippered sole, but she kept running inspite of thier ephemeral pang.
All I wanted at that instant was to escape him.
I can make it to the fence. He won't catch me! She exclaimed inwardly, her chest ablaze as she manuevered her way through the dense shrubs that threatened to foil her escape.
Suddenly an arm reached out and grabbed her, yanking her back like a lifeless doll.
Charlotte struggled strenuously within those wrapped limbs the fear of having a reptilian in her dress was outweighed by the portentous sound of rip and tear.
Tears swelled in her eyes as she ran her hand over her dress when he finally got up from her. Alas there was no reptile the bully, this lad, her tormentor, the boy who saught every working hour to taunt, ridicule and insult her.
She glanced down sniffling, somewhat relieved to see both slippers still intact recalling many countless pairs that has been lost to this very forest.
Even now she could recall her mother's last reprimanding having presented her with a torn hem bathed in mud.
What is your problem child, if you insist on behaving like a lad mayhap we should dress you as such! mother muttered angrily.
Charlotte glanced around for a vine before meeting his gaze.
He halted at the sight of her. His eyes the colour of the ocean, surveyed her suspiciously. "Giving up so easily princess?"
Her fist tightened as she grabbed the nearest vine and pulled out a stick all whilst chanting "
her face reddens and she breaks down in tears. Tears tickles down and rests in the valley between her lips and cheek.
For a moment or maybe she had imagined it. She witnessed a brief glimpse of admiration in his ocean blue eyes, before something related to sarcasm took residence. Now that's no way for a little lady to talk. He taunted, "what would your father think?"
He walked away grinning triumphantly as though he had won her once again. Her brows furrowed unsure of how he bested her this time. Until her raised a fisted arm in the air uncovering his fingers to show his price.
There suspended within the clutches of his fingers, was her ribbon. One of the many lost to Bradley Rivers.
Give it back! She shouted, jumping and clumsily reaching for it.
He easily puts it out of reach whilst chuckling under his breath. "If you can catch it you can reclaim it." He teased, his mouth widely stretched in a grin.
She felt tears swell in her eyes again but no she thought he was naught but a nasty brute who deserved lashing.
As she held her stick to serve him the much anticipated lashing he took notice but it was too late the sound of the lashing resonated in his ear before his brain could process the pain.
He reached out with renewed fevour to grab the Cain whilst tugging it. His brother called out "Leave her alone, Brother!"
Commanded the gentled voice of my rescuer.
Charlotte signed with relief as Brent the younger of the River brothers, appeared before her. Gently helping her up. She gazed into his soft smiling eyes unlike his older brother's they were a deep, gentle brown as he offered her a reassuring smile.
Pay no heed to my brother's taunting little one. He said while flashing a genuine smile.
He has taken my ribbon. "Give it back." She demanded.
He raised an eyebrow at her as he retorted," like I said if you can relinquish it from my fingers then I'll give it back to you but until then, it is mine."
Brent squeezed her fingers, "Nevermind do not fret I shall buy you another."
Her heart skipped a beat and she smiled sweetly to Brent. From that moment her heart was forever his. She knew naught of love especially since she was only eight summers, but how could she explain the butterflies raging in her belly. Surely the look he bestowed her is kin to how father looks at mother.
He surely felt the same or why else would he protect me from his brothers ridicule and taunting. He was such a gentle soul while Bradley was a brute.
"Come on little one" Brent urged gently "your mother has asked that I deliver you home."
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