Forbidden Devotion

Chapter 1

Surrey, 1854

I threw the sheets off of my body, slick with summer sweat, and leaped from my bed with heels that slammed onto the cold wooden floor. Today we were to buggy into London to retrieve cousin Elise from University. Not only that, but Uncle Roy had arranged for the five of us to visit a theatre alongside dinner. My heart pounded with anticipation; apart from living in the city until I was roughly eight, I'd only visited London when Elise began attending University. In fact, I'd only left the manor's gate a handful of times at best. Mother would've been so disappointed.

Father couldn't afford nice dresses for me, not like the one's Elise wore. But she had offered me many of her older, out of fashion gowns. Though with rarely leaving the manor, I predominantly opted for lighter dresses, thinner fabrics with more room for movement, for running through the grass and traversing the woods. Today I knew better. I pulled on a plum gown with heavy fabric and a lace bodice that constricted my waist and made it difficult to breathe. I combed my hair and pinned it back, save for a few fussy caramel curls that refused the pin. My appearance was perfected with a rosy cream splashed on my cheeks and lips, and then I raced to the door before recalling something important. Slippers. Father would have been appalled to see my bare toes in the grass in such an expensive gown—hand-me-down or not. I selected a dull white pair and used my thumb to polish off any stains.

And when I opened my door, I saw something I wasn't expecting. Not at all. Not even a sliver. Nor a speck of dirt, really. It was a boy; a boy near my age. And he was staring at me with wide eyes as if I had shocked him nearly as much as he'd shocked me. My mind ran through the novels that lined my shelves and I opted to remain calm like the heroine always did. "And who might you be?"

The boy stood several inches taller than me, with dark eyes, even darker hair, and fairly tanned skin. His nose was sharp and lips full as he spoke. "Julius King, the groundsman. Er, filling in for my father I mean. While he's sick."

This handsome boy was Mr. King's son? And Mr. King was sick? My smile fell, along with my cool exterior. "Will your father recover?" His father knew how to put a grin on my face, just as I knew how to put one on his. Without any friends, Elise away at college, and cousin Lilah passed, Mr. King was my closest acquaintance it seemed.

"We hope so." Julius's chin tilted to his leather boots.

"As do I."

"Rosalie, dear, hurry. The horses are impatient," Aunt Cornelia cried from the drive of the manor while waving frantically my direction. Though I knew it was my father making disparging remarks about my tardiness, not the horses. It was always him.

"I'll be seeing you then, Julius," I said and he lifted his curious brown eyes back to mine. And then I lifted the skirt of my dress and ran to the buggy, hiding red cheeks and a smile that had spread across my mouth. I'd contained my excitement to see more than a friend my age, but a boy my age. With dark hair and full lips and eyes I wanted to gaze into. At least, that's what a character from my books would say, I thought. It seemed fitting to gaze into those dark eyes and find out the depths of Julius King.

***

"Have you met any boys, Elise?" I leaned over in the theatre, whispering into my cousin's ear. She smirked and that was answer enough alone.

"Yes, I have." A look that I'd never seen on Elise's face overcame her. Her light eyes glazed over, staring into the distance at something no other could see. A flush spread across her cheeks and her lips unfurled into a warm smile. I'd read enough novels to recognize that expression. She was in love.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Tom. And he's a professor."

"An affair with your professor." I gasped a little too loud. She put her fingers atop my mouth to shush me.

"Sorry, sorry," I whispered as she removed her hand and glanced around. No one had overheard.

"Don't tell my mum. I've got to break the news at the right time."

"The news?"

"Don't gawk again."

I shook my head fervently, assuring I wouldn't.

"He's proposed."

My cheeks heated as I tried to contain my reaction. I wanted to gasp, and gawk, and jump out of my chair. For all the pretend weddings we held ourselves, it was due time for a real one. "And did you say yes?"

Elise rolled her eyes. "Would I be telling you otherwise?"

I hugged her side, leaning my head against her shoulder. Behind her, I caught Father's glare, surely annoyed by our fuss during the play. "Sit up," he snapped to me behind Elise's back. "Stop acting like a child."

I was quick to sit up and stare at the stage. Elise gave my shoulder a squeeze and directed her attention straight ahead. She was getting married to a professor at the University in London. She'd undoubtedly move to the city instead of returning after her education. Though I was ecstatic at the thought of a wedding occurring, my heart sank at the idea of Elise leaving the manor for good.

And as I watched the actors in their fascinating costumes dance upon the stage, my mind returned to the boy—Julius King. I wanted to experience that feeling Elise had upon her face; I wanted to feel glowing, alive, in love. I was never entirely sure if those feelings, if being in love, was something that existed beyond the pages of my books. But after nearly eighteen years of feeling none of it, I was eager to find out.