Lady Gouldian Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Other Titles by Calia Read

  Dedication

  Part One

  Epigragh

  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

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Copyright © 2021 by Calia Read

  First Edition: April 2021

  Cover Design: Clarise Tan of CT Creations

  Editor: Fairest Reviews Editing Services

  Interior Design: Juliana Cabrera of Jersey Girl Design

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to retailer and purchase.

  Other Titles by Calia Read

  Series

  Sloan Brothers

  Every Which Way • Breaking the Wrong • Ruin You Completely

  Fairfax

  Unravel • Unhinge

  Surviving Time

  The Surviving Trace • The Reigning and the Rule • Echoes of Time

  Belgrave Dynasty

  King of the South

  Lady Gouldian

  Standalones

  Figure Eight

  To Azalia-

  Every Lady Gouldian needs a place to call home.

  “Every love story is a potential grief story.”

  -Julian Barnes, Levels of Life

  PROLOGUE

  1914

  It starts with love.

  For your story and mine, it will always begin with love. Every person on this earth will have love draw the air from their lungs in a hollow exchange, benefiting only love and leaving your soul empty.

  It’s the middle that matters most. It’s there where you’ll have to find a way to survive and live in your new emptiness. And that’s most crucial of all. As for me, I tried to fill my barrenness with more love. And like the first time, I was left with nothing. But the second time hurt more than the first. (Far more than I ever could have anticipated.)

  Every breath I take hurts. My thoughts aren’t clear, and simple every day acts seem impossible.

  So I stay in my room, with only broken promises and happier memories when he once loved to keep me company.

  I get up from my bed and make my way to the window, staring down at the driveway. I want nothing more than to go and be with him. I know where he is. I could go to him. I should go to him.

  But I have nothing left in me, except a small sliver of pride. I once begged him to stay with me. I told him I loved him. And I received reassurances that everything would be okay.

  Yet here I am.

  All alone.

  Idly, I trace carved initials on the window-sill. My fingers slowly outlining the letters, N A T H. Abruptly, I stop, closing my eyes. Before I can think of the past, I transition to his name. I’ve done this so many times I could follow the curve of each letter in my sleep. Slowly, my hand lowers to my side as I stare at the names.

  “Come back to me,” I whisper.

  When I receive no response, I take a deep breath.

  This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how my life was to be. I wasn’t supposed to be here, in this purgatory. I had to be with him. My place was supposed to be by his side.

  “You once loved me,” I whisper against the glass, wishing my words could reach him. “Can’t you love me again?”

  More silence.

  My aching heart wants a reply so badly to my question that I slam my palm against the window.

  I remember the past as though it was yesterday. It was such a beautiful time, filled with laughter, secret smiles, and hours upon hours of conversations about the future. But life cruelly stole away the people I loved.

  I couldn’t help but wonder, what else would life steal from me?

  If I had a choice, nothing. Not a single thing.

  The longer I remain here, alone in my room, left with only my pain to keep me company, a firm resolve grows within me. Life isn’t created for the weak. I will protect myself at all costs and do what others before me have done to defend themselves from the world. I will take from life before life ever has the opportunity to take from me again.

  As I turn away from the window, an idea begins to take shape in my head. My determination grows. Yes, every story starts with love, but it ends with loss.

  A smile curves my lips upward. It will never be my loss again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  1919

  Nathalie

  I don’t consider myself to be bold.

  Boldness belongs to very few. Courageous people are the ones that can change the world and shape history. They consider any opportunity to be a thrilling sport and smile in the face of danger.

  I prefer to err on the side of caution so I don’t risk getting hurt. And as for opportunities? When they come my way, I weigh the good and bad for so long, that the chance is long past gone before I ever make up my mind.

  But today? Today I have no choice but to be bold. It’s a heady feeling that makes my blood tingle. Every breath I take is as shaky as my hands. If I whispered my intentions to my sister-in-law, Serene, the boldest person I know, she would either nod, her eyes glimmering in approval, or check my forehead and ask if I’ve fallen ill.

  And that is when you know you’re committing a bold act.

  With a deep exhale, I give the church one last look, grab the handle of my valise with one hand and the hem of my dress with the other and walk up the steps.

  The wedding began fifteen minutes ago. By now, the wedding party has made its way down the aisle. So has the beautiful bride. I’m confident she’s nervous, yet all too happily standing beside her future husband. The priest will talk about the sanctity of marriage and read scripture. At least, that is what happened at my wedding to Oliver.

  The double doors are unlocked, but if the people on the other side knew my intention, knew my plans, I wager they would have locked me out.

  Loudly, they creak open. The foyer hasn’t changed in the slightest since I wed here. Just the smallest of nostalgia sweeps over me as I look around. I remember how anx
ious I was before the ceremony began. But I think, deep down, I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

  I place my valise in the vestibule, then quietly step into the church. The beautiful space seems large and more imposing than I remember. The Corinthian arcades arch high above the pews, reaching toward the vaulted ceilings. Light pours in through the tiered windows, onto the aisle. It seems impossibly long and leads directly toward a woman in a vision of white. She faces a man with rich dark hair that can only belong to Asa. My stomach clenches into a tight ball. I haven’t seen him in years. He looks so handsome in his tuxedo and white waistcoat. I can only view his profile, but I can see his austere expression as he stares down at his future bride. I stop myself from crying out. From reaching out for him.

  It is the priest’s next words that capture my attention. “Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  “Wait!” I shout.

  My voice echoes around me, bounces off the high ceilings. I hear gasps around me, and pews creak as people turn and look at me. The priest lifts his head from the Bible clasped between his hands.

  Slowly, my hands lower to my side. All the energy and life inside me starts to fade when I see Asa turn his head in my direction.

  Asa drops his fiancée’s hands. His shoulders stiffen. His eyes widen ever so slightly as he takes me in. It’s as though he can’t believe I’m here. His future bride appears just as shocked as Asa and gapes at me. I met Juliet once in Savannah. How the blonde, meek, and mousy woman managed to find herself facing Asa at the front of a church will be something I will never understand. I feel a momentary sense of guilt for interrupting her wedding, but I must let Asa know how I feel.

  I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.

  My focus turns to him. He’s facing me now, his back to the priest. All he needs to do is walk to me. It would be ten, eleven steps at most, but between us are years of memories, some innocent, but most forbidden. In my darkest times, I thought of them, and they reminded me life did have meaning.

  My heartbeat slows and my eyes never leave his as I wait for his decision. Is he thinking about our past? About every single word we’ve said and should have said but didn’t? About every reticent kiss, touch, and smile?

  I exhale a shaky breath; we can’t stand here all day.

  But then my older brother, Étienne, stands in front of me, blocking my view of Asa. I begin to rise on my tip-toes, but he places his hands on my shoulders. “Nat, you cannot do this here,” Étienne urgently whispers. His brows are knitted together, and his green eyes are filled, not with fury for interrupting his best friend’s wedding, but sympathy. His grip on my shoulders tightens as the voices around us grow louder. “You will regret this later.”

  In my life, I’ve come to regret so much. Choices I made. Words I let free. But I know, with certainty I won’t soon, if ever, feel remorse for this.

  Étienne is only trying to protect me. Shield me from the curious eyes and whispers that are certain to follow. Most importantly, he’s trying to protect me from rejection. Because even though Asa hasn’t pulled his gaze from mine, he still hasn’t walked toward me.

  I realize then he is going to do this. Asa is going to marry her.

  At the thought, most, if not all, of my energy seeps out of my pores. My body sags forward and if Étienne still didn’t have a hold on me, I think I would’ve fallen forward.

  Briefly, my eyes close as the truth sinks in. When they open, I give my brother a brief nod. That is all Étienne needs for confirmation. He hurriedly turns me toward the vestibule as though I’m going to change my mind at any second.

  As we walk away, I hear the heavy accent of Toy Altwood. “Lord have mercy! Now we have ourselves a proper Southern weddin’.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nathalie

  I didn’t hold my peace.

  I let my objection free, but it was too late. Of course it was too late. It was his wedding day. My heart furiously beats against my chest as Étienne guides us out of the church and into the blazing sun.

  There’s commotion behind us. I think I hear my other brother’s voice, Livingston, but I cannot be certain. Because right now, all I can think is, You didn’t succeed. The love of your life is marrying someone else as we speak.

  The words are true, but it doesn’t make them any less painful. My breath comes out in shallow gasps. Why did I do this? Why did I come back?

  “You’re all right,” my brother says as he guides us away from the church doors.

  Voices behind us grow louder and then there are hands on my back, soothing pats on my arms. I turn in time to see my sister-in-law, Serene, on one side. In her arms she holds my nephew Trace. On the other side is Rainey with Livingston beside her.

  “Oh, sweet Lord, Nathalie. What have you done?” Rainey groans.

  “Give her some space you two,” Étienne admonishes.

  “Give her space? I haven’t seen her in forever,” Serene replies and turns her attention to me. With wide eyes, she looks at me and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. “I’ve missed you.”

  Everything is occurring all at once. I’ve missed her more than she knows, but all I manage to do is wait for the hug to finish, smile and nod at her.

  Serene’s momentarily stunned by my response. “That was… that was amazing and bold what you did back there.” Serene flings her hand toward the church.

  “People are goin’ to be discussin’ this for weeks,” Étienne grumbles.

  “He’s right,” Serene reluctantly concedes. “But it will die down … in a few months.”

  “Did you see how he looked at her?” Serene holds a hand to her heart. “He started to leave Juliet at the altar.”

  “But he didn’t. Because it’s his weddin’ day,” Rainey says, enunciating each word slowly.

  “I am aware of that,” Serene replies, just as slowly.

  I break my silence. “Are the two of you aware that I can hear everything you’re sayin’?”

  At once, they quiet down and look in my direction. It’s then I take in their attire. My brothers are dressed in suits, complimenting Rainey and Serene in their elegant gowns. The same cannot be said for me. With my travel suit covered in wrinkles from all the sitting on the train and sweating, I make a dreadful sight. Why didn’t I change before I walked through those church doors? Because I wasn’t thinking about my attire. I was thinking about the only man I’ve ever loved.

  “Nathalie, when we invited you to a weddin’, you realize it was me and Rainey’s upcomin’ nuptials, correct?” Livingston asks with a smile. As I take him in, I notice Alex is holding his hand. My niece stares at the grownups around her with solemn eyes that are remarkably like Étienne’s.

  I didn’t need Livingston to remind me he is soon to marry my best friend. I thought of it often. In part disbelief and part happiness. Mostly because, growing up, Livingston loathed Rainey and considered her to be a hellion. Rainey thought Livingston’s full-time occupation was breaking the heart of every woman he encountered.

  To their credit, both were right.

  With my entire family surrounding me, I give them a weak smile. “Hello to all of you.”

  The four of them look at one another. Étienne clears his throat and becomes their delegate. “Nathalie, we love to see you, but none of us expected to see you in this capacity.”

  “I for one think this should happen much more,” Livingston cuts in. “Did you see Asa’s momma? I think she nearly fainted.” He steps forward with a smile and gives me a tight hug. “Welcome home.”

  Being surrounded by my family marginally lifts my spirits, until I hear the faint clapping coming from within the church. Everybody tenses.

  Étienne looks to Livingston, then Serene. Serene to Étienne, then to me. Serene passes my nephew to Rainey and links her arm through mine. Her eyes are soft and filled with compassion. Once, long ago, she almos
t lost Étienne to someone else. She knows the pain I’m feeling.

  The only difference is, she and Étienne found a way back to one another. He didn’t marry the wrong woman.

  “Let’s go to Belgrave,” Serene says.

  Never have four words sounded so appealing. The four of them close in on me, as though I’m going to break into a run. But there’s nowhere for me to go.

  All I have left is them, and Belgrave.

  My eyes nearly fill with tears. I nod and walk away from the church.

  “As you can see, we had your room transformed into a nursery.”

  I peek inside. Hard to believe this room was once mine. Two white-iron brass beds have replaced where my queen bed once was. Matching quilts of vibrant colors are on them. On one is a Raggedy Ann, gently leaning against the pillows. In front of the windows is a doll-sized pram, and on the floor is a play tea set with teddy bears poised behind each cup.

  My heart swells at the image. I grew up in this room. It’s only fitting my niece does the same. I step away from the doorway and look to my sister-in-law. “I’d certainly hope this is a nursery.”

  Serene leans in, her eyes dancing mischievously. “It’s really Étienne’s favorite room. Brings out his inner child.”

  My oldest brother is less than amused by Serene’s joke. I smile as she leans into me, her shoulders gently lifting up and down. Serene finds herself amusing. I forgot that about her.

  You did the right thing by coming home.

  But it’s evident from Asa’s wedding and the nursery in front of me that was once my old room that I didn’t do the right thing fast enough.

  “Alex loves her room. She likes to be alone a lot of the time.” With those words, Serene and I look in Étienne’s direction. His eyes widen and he shrugs his shoulders. “Alex is a lot like Étienne, and to be honest, I think she might be a genius.”