Page 1 of Touch Me

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Prologue

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Langley Manor, England

Fall 1797

The baby cried.

Her son. The beauty of the squirming infant hurt in a way she wanted never to end. She had given birth to life. Wonderful, innocent life.

She pushed herself up in the huge four-poster bed, ignoring the admonishments of both her maid and the midwife to rest. Pain stabbed through her lower body. She could not give in to it. She had to see her son. Each moment with him was a gift. Fear sent tension through her, intensifying the pain in her body. Langley would be here soon to tear the babe from her arms.

No.

Surely not.

Even her coldhearted husband could not take away the child they had created together.

The heavy door of the master chamber slammed against the wall. Her gaze flew to the sight of the towering masculine frame outlined in its opening. He had come. His face wore the same chill expression it had every moment since he had accused her of infidelity. He met her eyes, and in that brief glance she knew nothing had changed. He hated her. He would take her son.

Even as he turned to the midwife, Anna cried, "No. Please. No."

"Give me the babe."

"It is a son. Our son." Desperation clawed at her. "Do not do this." She reached out her hands, begging for something he did not have. Mercy. "Do not take him from me. I am his mother." She did not bother to protest her innocence again. Months of pleading for understanding, for trust, had proven futile.

He would not believe her.

"Geoffrey, please."

He turned to her, his eyes filled with mocking contempt, and an aching sob wracked her body.

"I must congratulate you, madam, on having the good sense to give me a son. I need an heir, but I do not know if even that necessity could have forced me back to your bed."

His words lanced through her, cutting the final vestige of hope in her heart. But even that pain became overshadowed as her belly tightened with another contraction. She gasped, then bit her lip. She had shown enough weakness to this man she had loved. She would show him no more.

But the pain. It was intense. Did not the pains stop when the birth was over? She longed to ask the midwife, but Geoffrey had not yet left. She would remain strong.

Finally, he turned, her son bundled in his arms, and left the room. Tears burned a path down her cheeks. She bit her lip on another contraction and tasted blood. She watched the door through which her husband had taken her son until the pain in her lower body became unbearable.

Turning to the midwife, she forced words out of her throat, tight from holding in a scream. "Help me."

Melly, her maid, rushed to her side. "What is it, milady?"

"The pains. They have returned." Anna met the eyes of the midwife. "I thought the pain was supposed to stop…" The words trailed off into a scream as the contractions grew stronger.

The luxurious surroundings of her bedchamber receded as terror overshadowed Anna's mind. Why had the pain not stopped? What was happening to her? She fell back against the bed, panting.

The midwife touched her stomach and Anna screamed again.

"Hush, milady. Do not carry on so. You gave birth to your son without all this screaming. Will you do less for this babe?"

As the words penetrated her haze of pain, Anna's eyes flew open. "This one? There is another babe?"

Twins. As another contraction tightened Anna's body almost beyond bearing, she felt a hysterical desire to laugh. Two babies. Geoffrey Selwyn, Earl of Langley, had planted two babes in her womb. Would he take this one, too?

She felt an overwhelming need to push and bore down desperately. Vowing that Langley would have to tear this baby from her lifeless hands, she gave birth to her second child.

Melly cried, "It's a girl!"

Anna put her arms out. "Give her to me."

The midwife wrapped soft white linens around the crying baby. "She's a healthy one, she is." She handed the squalling infant to Anna.

She looked up from the beautiful face of her daughter at the emotion she heard in the midwife's voice. "Will you help me?"

The midwife's wizened face shuttered. "What do you mean?"

"If we don't do something"—her voice broke and she took a deep breath to control it—"my husband will take this baby from me as well. I have already lost a son. I cannot bear to lose my daughter."

She waited, knowing that if she had miscalculated, Langley's contempt for her would only be made worse when the midwife told him her tale.

The older woman stared at Anna for what felt like an eternity. Her heart beat faster and she tightened the grip she had on her daughter. The baby cried. She immediately loosened her hold and leaned down to whisper soft assurances to her baby. The crying stopped. Anna smiled.

"I'll help you, milady. A man, even a nobleman, doesn't have the right to tear an infant from his mother's arms."

Joy burst through Anna like flowers blooming in the spring. She met Melly's eyes. "You will help me?"

Melly wiped at the moisture on her cheeks. "Yes, milady."

Anna smiled for the second time in the five months since Langley had discovered that blackguard Estcot trying o force himself on her. She gazed into the eyes of her daughter. "I will call you Althea Johanna because you are God's gift to me in my innocence."

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Chapter 1

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What would I have done had God not seen fit to grant me the gift of Thea? Her sweet innocence keeps my heart beating when it would have shattered from Langley's harsh treatment. I pray that Thea never gives her heart to a hard man like her father. How my love for him mocks me now. My own weakness torments me. I will teach her to be both wiser and stronger than her mother.

November 10, 1797

Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley

British West Indies

Twenty-three years later

The skirts of Thea's high-waisted gown swished around her ankles, allowing welcome air to cool her legs as she strode through the warehouse. The tall ceilings and dark interior of the building did little to mute the oppressive Caribbean heat. Beads of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. She itched to press the muslin of her gown against the moisture, but years of training by her proper English mother prevented her.

Mama, if you were here, you'd be tempted as well.


Tags: Lucy Monroe Historical