Read Borrowed Vows for Free Online Page B

those who’d been villains, remained so too. She saw ragged figures sleeping in doorways, and others stealing secretively away into shadowy alleys. Beggars existed in every age, and the footpads of the past were only the muggers of the future.
    The city she saw now might be alien to Kathryn Vansomeren, but Rosalind knew it well, and both women were blended together in the person now sitting opposite Sir Dane Marchwood. No, Kathryn knew she needed to qualify that somewhat fanciful thought. Old Gloucester was known to her because of whatever book or movie this dream was based on! That was the only reason she and Rosalind had become entwined like this. Even Alice Longney had to be a subliminally remembered character from fiction.
    She continued to gaze out, and there was one building in particular that caught her eye as the carriage passed. It was Pendle’s Bank, an ornate half-timbered building on the crossroad in the heart of the city. Jeremiah Pendle was a shrewd and prosperous, but ruthless man who was frequently seen at the door of the bank, a fat figure mopping his forehead with a red-spotted handkerchief. He was Thomas Denham’s uncle, and therefore of the late William Denham as well, which made him no friend of Dane’s, but prominence in Gloucester society frequently thrust them together. She felt a little uneasy as she gazed at the bank, as if it signified something of great portent. But what?
    Gloucester slipped away behind as the carriage drove south through the city gates on to the Bristol turnpike. Marchwood castle lay three miles ahead. It had been the home of Dane’s family for over five hundred years, and for the past two years had been Rosalind’s home too. And for this one night Kathryn Vansomeren would live there as well...
    She glanced at him, wanting to reach out to establish some sort of harmony, a basis upon which to gain his trust, but his cold demeanor precluded any such advance. The chill that excluded her also served as a reminder that in Regency England, he was one of the most hazardous men to fall foul of, as the three duels he’d fought and won bore witness. But no matter how formidable his reputation, the effect he had upon her was nothing short of overwhelming.
    She studied him from beneath lowered lashes, wondering what it would be like to lie naked in his arms. He was handsome and almost mesmerizing in the moonlight. His very name whispered through her like a half-forgotten song, caressing her being. It seemed foolish to say he was her soul mate, but that was how she felt. He was the part of her that Richard had never become, and she wanted him in a way she’d never wanted her absent husband.
    She pulled herself up sharply then. What was the matter with her? She was thinking about him as if he were real! He wasn’t real, he—like everything else that was happening tonight—was the product of her frustrated subconscious! She could have dreamed up a Mr. Rochester or a Rhett Butler; instead, she’d dredged Sir Dane Marchwood from some long-forgotten novel or other. What point was there in analyzing her innermost thoughts and reasons? She wasn’t with her therapist, she was in the middle of a wonderful dream, and all she had to do was enjoy it all she could! Enjoy him all she could...
    He spoke suddenly. “I trust your ministering to the sick was well received?”
    Hastily she collected herself. “Alice was glad to see me, if that’s what you mean.” How weird it was to have an English voice!
    He gave the thinnest of smiles. “Of course, that’s what I mean. What other interpretation could there be?”
    His tone implied he didn’t believe she’d come here tonight to visit her ailing old nurse. Again she found herself fearing Alice was wrong, and he did know about Thomas, but even as the thought entered her head, she realized it was wrong. He didn’t know; he merely had a strong suspicion. She spoke again, and the words seemed to enter her head from nowhere. “Concerning Alice,