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Harvest House Publishers - Lori Wick

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200 pages

English

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Lori Wick's bestselling series The Kensington Chronicles (more than 375,000 copies sold) has a fresh, new look sure to please her longtime fans and draw a new generation of readers. Set in the 1800s, this series captures the adventure, wealth, and romance of the British empire.Tanner Richardson, the volatile duke of Cambridge, sees his wife with another man. Misinterpreting the situation, he erupts in rage and throws her and their unborn baby out. Tanner's anger smolders-until the night he is shot....

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Romance

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Publié par	Harvest House Publishers
Date de parution	01 janvier 2004
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9780736931908
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0480€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Who Brings Forth the Wind
Lori Wick

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
All Scripture quotations in this book are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover design by Dugan Design Team, Bloomington, Minnesota

WHO BRINGS FORTH THE WIND
Copyright 1994 by Lori Wick Published by Harvest House Publishers Eugene, Oregon 97402 www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
Who brings forth the wind-Lori Wick.
p. cm.-(Kensington chronicles)
ISBN 978-0-7369-1323-2
Married people-England-Fiction. I. Title. II. Series: Wick, Lori. Kensington chronicles.
PS3573.I237W49 1994 94-10718
813 FT.54-dc20
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the Publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 / RDM-SK / 21 20 19 18 17 16 15
For my grandmothers Mabel Carrie Strebig and Eoline Elizabeth Johnson Hayes. Thank you for the heritage of hard work and boundless love. I dedicate this book to you from the bottom of my heart.
Contents
The Kensington Chronicles
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Fourty
Chapter Fourty-One
Chapter Fourty-Two
Chapter Fourty-Three
Chapter Fourty-Four
Chapter Fourty-Five
Chapter Fourty-Six
Chapter Fourty-Seven
Chapter Fourty-Eight
Chapter Fourty-Nine
Epilogue
Books by Lori Wick
The Kensington Chronicles
D URING THE NINETEENTH CENTURY , the palace at Kensington represented the noble heritage of Britain s young queen and the simple elegance of a never-to-be-forgotten era. The Victorian Age was the pinnacle of England s dreams, a time of sweeping adventure and gentle love. It is during this time, when hope was bright with promise, that this series is set.
Prologue
L ONDON
N OVEMBER 1852
Y OU RE A BUFFOON , H ENRY . I was a fool to have married you and an even greater fool to have given you sons. They re sure to grow to be just like you.
Please, Ramona, please come back to me. Leave that man and return home. If not for my sake, then for William s and Tanner s. They need you.
Get out of my sight Henry, and take those brats with you.

I m sorry to disturb you, your Grace, but-
You forgot yourself, Price. My brother, William, is the duke.
I m sorry, Lord Tanner, but your brother is dead. A fire at his London town house. Your wife was found with him. She died also.

Lord Tanner Richardson, Duke of Cambridge, woke with a start, sitting up in one violent motion. The bedclothes were drenced with sweat, and Tanner s chest heaved as he recalled the nightmares that so vividly portrayed his past.
The dreams hadn t changed in all these years. His mother s laugh was just as scornful, his wife s infidelity just as real. Bleakly content that he hadn t dreamt about either of them in ages, he threw the covers back and rose, ignoring his robe as he went to the window of his bedroom. The room was cold and the night dark, but his eyes still caught the images of bare trees blowing in the wind.
Do you need something, my lord? a voice spoke softly from the doorway.
No, Price. Go back to bed. The duke s voice was cold, but the experienced servant knew better than to take this personally. The door was closed silently. It was some minutes before Tanner moved back to the bed.
Climbing back onto the mattress, he recalled the words his Uncle Edmond spoke during dinner.
You need a wife, Tanner. You can scowl at me all you want, and even walk from the room, but it won t change the fact that you need another wife.
Tanner now gave a mirthless laugh as he settled the covers around him. If his uncle broached that forbidden subject again, he would stop him, even if he had to plant his fist on the older man s mouth to do it. He fell asleep telling himself that Edmond was wrong; he had no need of a wife, no need at all, none
One
M IDDLESBROUGH , E NGLAND
M ARCH 1853
A NASTASIA D ANIELS SAT ON THE CREEK BANK and stared down at the fishing line that lay undisturbed in the water. Four fish on another line lay at her side, but she d set a goal of five and was not leaving the bank until she had them. However, her mind was beginning to wander. She pushed a stray lock from her face, wishing she had taken time to brush the honey-gold mass or at least secure it out of her eyes.
Lady Stacy, a voice spoke from behind her, succeeding in drawing her attention from the surface of the water.
Oh, good morning, Peters.
Good morning, my lady. Breakfast is ready, and your grandfather is asking for you.
Stacy was on the verge of telling him she would come immediately when the pole twitched in her hands. She gave all her attention to the catch, and in just moments expertly pulled in a fat trout. She then turned to Peters with a huge smile that he found most contagious.
Tell my grandfather I ll be right along.
Peters went on his way, and Stacy rose gracefully from the bank. The weighty line in her hand felt wonderful as she stepped lightly over the path and headed for the kitchen.
Here you go, Mercy, Stacy nearly sang with triumph. I think we ll enjoy these for lunch.
I ll see to it, Lady Stacy, Mercy, the family cook, told her fondly. She shook her head with true tenderness as Stacy rushed out to clean up for breakfast.
Forty minutes later Stacy and her grandfather, Viscount Andrew Daniels, were finishing their morning meal.
Did I tell you I caught five fish for lunch?
Five! the old man exclaimed. Why didn t you take me?
I went very early, she explained. It took me forever, though. I must be losing my touch.
Andrew s only reply to this was a small grunt of disbelief.
Peters says there s a letter here from London, Andrew commented.
Oh, it must be Lucinda. Why don t we go into the salon, and I ll read it?
Stacy began as soon as they were settled:

The weather here is cold right now, but I can tell that spring is around the corner. It will be welcome as the cold gets into my bones these days as never before.
I had two of Mother s pieces reset, the emerald and the ruby, and I m hoping Stacy will be interested in them. They re quite lovely and up-to-date in style. I ll hold onto them until such a time as Stacy can view them herself.
Stacy stopped reading at that point, and after a moment her grandfather questioned her.
Is that all she says?
No, Stacy admitted, the letter still in her hand. She goes on about my age and birthday, both of which she has wrong.
That s normal, Andrew muttered. If she mentions your age, then she must have a bee in her bonnet about your coming to London.
Stacy said nothing to this, only sat quietly and watched her grandfather where he rested in his favorite chair. He returned her look, but she knew he saw little; his eyesight seemed to weaken daily.
Read the rest, Stacy. The command was soft, but Stacy complied immediately.

Stacy will be 21 at the end of October, and I can t believe she s never come to London. It s criminal of you, Andrew, not to let her come and try to make a life for herself here. I m still angry with you that she had no coming out. It s time Stacy marry and start a family. I know you agree, but you re too stubborn to admit it.
I ll forgive and forget all the past, however, if you ll allow Stacy to come next month and stay for the entire summer, from the first of May to the end of July. I won t settle for a day less. I ve been begging you for years, and it s the least you can do.
I await your letter. Please do not let me down, Andrew. Love to you and Stacy.
Lucinda
Andrew listened as Stacy folded the letter and wished he could see her clearly enough to read her expression. He knew she would go in an instant if he asked her, but he wasn t certain she would tell him the truth as to whether or not she wanted to go.
From the time she was a little girl Stacy had hated confrontation or unhappiness of any type. Andrew was quite certain that she would walk on hot coals if she thought it would please him.
Would you care to go to London, Stacy?
Would you like me to?
The old man smiled. He had known very well she would answer his question with a question of her own.
As a matter of fact, I think it might be a good idea, he said after a moment, keeping his tone carefully neutral. I don t feel as Lucinda does, that you need to make a life for yourself there, unless of course you want to, but it might be a summer you would really enjoy.
All right, Stacy agreed, but her voice told him something was wrong.
You re worried about something.
Two things, actually, she admitted. I m afraid Lucinda will be determined to marry me off.
Andrew nodded. Stacy was a tall girl, nearly six feet and with a statuesque figure. None of the local boys had wanted a wife, even one with the face of an angel, who towered over them.
I ll set her straight long before you go, he assured her. What else troubles you?
The train ride. London is so far away, and it frightens me a little to contemplate making the ride alone.
Andrew s heart sank. He had been hoping that she would be bothered by something plausible, such as London itself, so that he could with a clear conscience tell Lucinda she wouldn t be able to come.
He did not have the extra staff to sen