Forbidden Freedom

Chapter 1

Nowadays

England

"Christine, have you heard the news?" Selina asks in a hushed voice, trying not to disturb the silence of the library.

We sit at a long table between towering oak shelves filled to the brim with books. It's the epitome of British libraries in ancient universities. When I first arrived here, it felt like I had stepped into a Harry Potter movie.

Selina's long chestnut hairbrushes against my hands, tickling my skin. With this external attribute, she reminds me of my best friend. Or rather, my former best friend...

I shake my head, pushing away thoughts of the past. Enough, Christine, stop it. You promised yourself!

"What gossip have you heard this time?" I anticipate the topic of conversation, seeing her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Selina Howard - daughter of one of the Earls of England. Along with the title, she inherited a splendid estate more reminiscent of a castle; a subscription to gossips about the Royal Family firsthand; several brothers and sisters ready to tear each other apart for inheritance; a love for wagging tongues and afternoon tea with milk.

In short, the quintessential British dream.

"Why do you think it's gossip?" She rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, swaying her long hair. I recoil from those that stick to the gloss on my lips. "Maybe it's urgent news related to our studies and doesn't require postponement?"

The local bookworm sitting across from us shoots a disapproving glance and points a finger in a "quiet" sign on the bulletin board. Then she briskly adjusts her old-fashioned metal-framed glasses and buries herself in a biology book.

Selina mimics her and makes faces. I smile at her antics. Here's a representative of a noble family, bound by blood ties to the British monarchy.

"Then spit it out," I soften the tone of my voice slightly and smile at Selina, pretending to be engrossed in a book on 20th-century architecture, which I need to present a report on next week.

Selina straightens up and leans closer to me again.

"Remember Mr. Fincher fell ill with a heart attack last week, and everyone was guessing who would teach art history today?" The fire in her eyes ignites with each word.

"Well, what about it?" I impatiently urge her on. I don't like it when she beats around the bush.

Her pupils dilate with anticipation of dropping a news bomb on me.

"A young, sexy professor will take his place!" Selina squeals, earning another disapproving glance from the bookworm.

In our university, there are indeed few young professors, but they never caused such a stir among Selina like news of a new teacher did.

"And what?" I inquire, fluttering my eyelashes in puzzlement.

Selina looks at me as if I'm daft.

"You don't understand," she shakes her head, waving her hands. "He's only a couple of years older than us. He's just twenty-six, and he's already a professor! It's a record for our university. They say he's unbelievably smart. Smart and handsome," Selina sighs dreamily and closes her eyes.

Hmm. When I enrolled in one of England's oldest universities and met the daughter of the Earl, I never thought I'd be involved in such a conversation. I thought that the rigorously bred representatives of high titles didn't engage in gossip. But it turned out to be quite the opposite.

Give them an inch, and they'll stick their curious noses into any hole without soap.

Although, it's more entertaining than cackling in the nuthouse where my father and stepmother threw me.

Nails dig into my skin, leaving red crescents. I close my eyes, banishing visions of the past in white coats with syringes in hand.

Twenty minutes and five rebukes from the bookworm, Selina and I land in the auditorium where the art history lecture will take place.

Selina bounces on the spot with impatience, gripping my wrist with strong fingers every time the door opens. (Her polo training from childhood clearly didn't go to waste. Her grip is such that a wet fish won't wriggle out). Each time, she sighs disappointedly when it's not the new sexy professor, but our classmate.

Soon, the door stops opening, all students settle into their seats and chatter amongst themselves. Five minutes have passed since the lecture started, and the professor is still missing.

Selina is already lying on the table, resting her head on her hands, keeping her gaze fixed on the door handle, which refuses to turn.

I distract myself with the book I brought from the library and make pencil marks in the notebook, necessary for the study report. I can't afford to mess up, or I'll be kicked out of university like a champagne cork. Straight to my father and...

"It's him! It's him!" Selina jerks me by the forearm with all her might, her eyes never leaving the figure of a man appearing in the doorway.

I lift my head to look at the new professor and lock eyes with an icy iris that pierces me with sharp spikes. A lump forms in my throat, and I can't swallow it. Because with a familiar gesture of his hand, the man adjusts his black locks of hair and walks to his desk. He sets down a leather briefcase and turns to face the audience.

My body starts trembling with a violent shiver. Even without his stretched-out Duran Duran T-shirt and worn-out sweatpants, I recognize him from a mile away.

Ethan fucking Blake. How did you end up here? Why now, after two years? Why in my university?

I take a deep breath, trying to withstand his heavy gaze.

I've built a good life for myself, and I won't let anyone, or anything ruin it! Not even you, a ghost from the past.

___

Let's choose a cover! Which one do you like best?