The Prince's Mistress

CHAPTER ONE: A Rose Garden

Gavin Thorne was handsome, with finely cut features, golden blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was tall and broad like his Viking ancestors, a born rake and was known to have several mistresses. He was rumored to have an untold number of bastards strewn throughout the kingdom, born mostly to servants and dairymaids. However, the occasional lord found himself playing father to his offspring as well. He had been taught to pleasure women at the young age of twelve and had endeavored to make their pleasure his own ever since.

Despite his obvious charms, he had married a plain woman whose enormous dowry had filled his coffers and whom he promptly impregnated. She died less than a year later while bearing his only legitimate son, Arthur. It was rumored that he had barely taken note of his wife's death. He had returned to London and his mistresses a few days after her burial. He invested her dowry wisely and multiplied his fortune several times over until he became one of the wealthiest men in England. He was also rumored to be the most ruthless as well. He had little time for charity unless it suited his purpose.

He met his niece when she was a girl of fifteen at Kent Manor, his half brother Charles' estate. He had not been home for many years, having left for college and until now, had never returned. His memories of his brother's cruelty kept him from ever wanting to step foot on his family's estate. However, rumors had reached his ears that his brother was considering a new wife after only obtaining a bastard daughter from his previous marriage.

Charles' wife Marianne died of a fever following an unsuccessful attempt to leave his brother. She had caught him in bed with a couple of footmen and her hold on sanity, which had been tenuous since her unfortunate marriage, finally broke. She had taken off across the moors on horseback and was found the next morning lying on the ground; her horse less than ten feet away. Her fever raged for two days before it took her, leaving her daughter without a mother and her husband to his handsome lovers.

Charles was readying his estate for the arrival of his new bride, when Gavin arrived. Charles was a brute and cared for no woman, not even the girl he pretended was his daughter. Gavin didn't care that Charles was a homosexual, he cared that he beat his wife and terrorized her to the point of madness. He felt obliged to stop Charles from hurting yet another innocent woman and it was certain he would.

Gavin might not be an authority on morality, but his family's bloodline was also at stake. He would not stand by as his brother passed off another man's bastard as the heir to Kent Manor, simply because he was unable to have s*x with a woman.

He had just left his brother's library after a heated discussion with Charles. In the end, Gavin had threatened to tell the world what Charles really was if he went through with his marriage. Charles had bitterly agreed to give up the idea of marrying again and Gavin was able to return to London, pleased that another woman would not be found half dead on the moors.

He had every intention of leaving Kent Manor that very afternoon, but he took the garden route to the stables that day. As he stepped through the roses he saw the girl that would change him forever. She was swinging beneath a tall maple tree, her long golden hair streaming in the wind.

She had been on the cusp of womanhood at the time and lovely in the way that only fresh young women can be. Her creamy skin, golden hair, glass green eyes and air of eager innocence entranced Gavin. His heart squeezed in his chest and thumped madly as he watched her swing high into the air only to come back down, her long curls hitting the ground each time. 

He moved toward her without thought, without intention and without caution. He felt a pull in his stomach and chest to be near her. That feeling would never leave him and would color every day of his life from that moment on.

Her sweet look of curiosity at the man staring at her in the garden and her warm greeting snuffed any concerns that he might have held. He pulled her from the swing, introduced himself as her father's brother and kissed her cheek. Honor was stupefied by his warmth when her father was as cold as the Arctic. She knew she had an uncle, but she had never met him. His picture was in the gallery, but he had been a child when it was painted and the pretty boy he had been didn't compare to the tall, golden man before her. Still, she was unable to keep herself from smiling back at him and was hopelessly drawn to him.

Gavin immediately gave up leaving Kent Manor and stayed on to his brother's chagrin. He spent every moment he could with Honor from that moment onward. He gave her chocolates, ribbons and lovely fans from the Orient. He gazed at her from across tables, rooms and gardens with frank admiration. He called her "his little beauty." He taught her to waltz and spent hours spinning her around the ballroom until they dropped in exhaustion. They laughed, played cards, spun tales and whispered secrets among the roses in the garden.

Honor often blushed under his attentions, but found she couldn’t resist him. Her father barely noticed her existence and when he did, it was to tell her to stop bothering him or to shut up. She soaked up her uncle's attention the way a rose blossom does the sun. He took her riding along the shore, planned picnics for her and played duets with her at the piano forte. He surprised her with a gold locket from London and left flowers by her plate at dinner.

Honor was enchanted and thought him the most wonderful man in all of England, but she had little experience. Her father was rarely home and when he was it was brief. He would see to her immediate needs, but rarely did he speak to her. He made it clear that she meant nothing to him, was a burden and it was best if she didn't remind him of her existence.

Honor tried to win his favor as a young girl, but quickly learned that she was beneath his notice. She was lower than even the servants, for he at least spoke to them. Once when she was seven, she picked a posey of flowers for him and hopefully held them out to him. He took them, looked them over and discarded them. They fell to the ground and were crushed by the boots of his lover. Honor never approached her father again with anything. She spoke to him only if he asked her a direct question and those occasions were very rare.

Honor grew up with the servants as her friends. As her father cared nothing about her or what she did, there was no one to tell her she shouldn't. Her best friend was her lady's maid, Rose and the only mother she knew was their cook, Moira. She had an assortment of governesses and tutors who taught her everything she had an interest in knowing. Once again, her father's disinterest worked to her advantage and she learned Greek, French, mathematics, chemistry and history. She had little interest in sewing or needlepoint, but managed passably. She excelled in piano and dancing, but had no talent for art or sketching. She insisted that Rose be allowed to attend lessons with her and once again, her father's disinterest worked in her favor.

As Rose gained a lady's education, Honor gained knowledge of housekeeping. She learned to cook and bake from Moira, herbs used to flavor foods and heal the sick. She learned seasonal cleaning and storage, how to haggle for better prices on goods and even how to set broken bones.

In spite of all this knowledge, Honor knew little about men or s*x except what she found in books which amounted to almost nothing. She saw the animals on the farm, but had no idea if it worked that way for people. There was no one to ask, because Rose and Moira remained tight lipped about the subject, except the lurid stories Rose told her when she stayed with her at night. Once again, Honor had no idea if Rose's stories were true or just tales told to make her laugh or blush.

The arrival of her uncle came at a most critical time in her life when she was no longer a little girl, but was not yet a woman. She was overwhelmed by him. The site of him thrilled her, made her heart race and her feet quickened to greet him. She loved the smell of him, the touch of his hand, loved when he held her as they danced and wished she could be closer. She was hungry for attention and love and grasped at what Gavin offered with both hands. She was happy for the first time in her young life and she dreaded the day he would leave Kent Manor.

As for Gavin, he knew the day was coming and he almost welcomed it. He knew his affection for his Honor had grown beyond his control. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving her, nor could he stay. It was hopeless, not only because of her youth, but because of who she was. The world thought she was his niece. It would separate them forever.