Extended Epilogues

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Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

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• I think governesses' stories are overused and need more variety.

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How many steamy scenes do you prefer in a novel? * *

• I believe 2-3 are enough to create the romantic mood, but not focus too much on the sexual intercourse.
• I'd say 1 is enough for me, I don't like steamy scenes.
• More than 3. It's a romantic novel after all, the steamy scenes are a part of it and make the story more believable.

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One year later…

Durham Manor, London.

Arabella stood gazing into the ballroom, which was nearly filled to the brim. She could hardly believe that she was finally making her debut into society as a young debutante. The past year had been eventful, with Eugenia becoming her sister and friend, guiding her through the intricacies of life, and helping her come into her own as a woman. Arabella had grown older, wiser, and with her family united and happy, her heart found a sense of peace.
Now, she was stepping onto a new path. Perhaps this season would lead her to find her true love and live happily ever after, or maybe it wouldn’t. Her family had assured her that she was under no pressure to rush into a marriage. With her brother’s successful business ventures, they were financially stable, and there was no urgency to marry her off to the first eligible bachelor who showed interest. Arabella had seen her brother marry for love, and she wanted the same for herself. Whether it took three seasons or five, she was willing to wait for the right person.
“It’s going to be alright, you know. I’ll be right here by your side, and you’re going to shine,” Eugenia whispered, standing next to her.
Arabella smiled, reassured by her sister’s words. “I know. I’m just taking it all in. No jitters this time.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eugenia replied with a warm smile.
Together, they walked toward the ballroom. Eugenia had volunteered to present Arabella, and as her name was announced, Arabella couldn’t miss the proud and joyful look in her sister’s eyes. It gave her the confidence that the night would go well.
After a few dances, with sore feet and no gentlemen catching her interest enough for a second dance, Arabella began to doubt her earlier optimism.
“I don’t think this will be the season I find my prince charming, Eugenia.”
“Come now, it’s only been a few hours. Give it time. Besides, your dance card is full. Someone among them might surprise you.”
“I saw all of them when they asked for dances, remember? There was no spark with any of them.”
Eugenia chuckled. “Love doesn’t always happen at first sight, Arabella. Sometimes it develops over time, through conversations and shared moments.”
“Well, if the three dances I’ve had so far are any indication, it seems I won’t be finding love through slow conversations either. Now I understand why you remained single for so long. These men can hardly hold a proper conversation.”
“Ah, like teacher, like student,” Eugenia teased.
Arabella’s brother joined them, having returned from a business appointment. He exchanged affectionate glances with his wife before turning his attention to Arabella.
“You’ve arrived!”
“I promised I wouldn’t keep you waiting too long,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on Eugenia’s forehead. His hand rested protectively on her pregnant belly.
Arabella couldn’t hide her eye roll at their sweet interaction. “Please, we’re in a public space. Show some restraint.”
“What’s indecent about a man showing affection to his wife and the mother of his child?”
Sensing she wasn’t going to win this battle, Arabella decided to leave instead. “I can’t bear to witness you two making eyes at each other. Tonight, I’d rather not be reminded of how single I am. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll step outside for some fresh air before the next dance.”
“Don’t go too far,” Eugenia called after her.
Arabella made her way to an empty balcony, grateful for the moment of solitude. She leaned against the railing, taking in the night air and trying to calm her racing thoughts.
“Be careful not to trip over the railing and fall.”
Arabella’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized that voice. She opened her eyes to confirm her suspicions, and indeed, it was Hugh Trafford standing before her. He had been away for over a year, working on his family’s construction business.
“Lord Trafford, you’re back in London! I wasn’t aware you’d be here this season.”
He smiled, his expression lazy and charming. Arabella felt something stir within her, and she realized it was the same spark she had felt before. It hadn’t been a silly crush after all.
“Somehow, I couldn’t imagine missing this season for anything. We’re nearly done with the estate construction, and I thought a break would do my men and me some good.”
“I see,” she replied. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” he responded simply, his gaze fixed on her in a curious manner.
“There’s something different about you,” he finally observed.
“What, have I grown more beautiful?”
He seemed to consider the question before snapping his fingers. “Not more beautiful, that’s debatable. But you’ve grown taller. Good. Any shorter, and the railing might have towered over you.”
Arabella’s eyes widened at his playful remark. “First you warn me about falling over the railing, and now you suggest I might have been dwarfed by it. Are you trying to start a quarrel, Lord Trafford?”
“Why would I quarrel with a damsel who came out here to escape a crowd of suitors stumbling over each other to dance with her?”
Arabella sensed his teasing tone. He had always been this way, taunting and provoking. He enjoyed baiting her brother, and it seemed he was treating her in a similar manner. After all, he saw Dorian as a brother, which would make her a sister by extension.
He was setting clear boundaries, making it clear that their relationship was purely platonic. Arabella appreciated his straightforwardness. It prevented her from harboring unrealistic expectations.
“Well then, if you’re here to rescue the damsel, your duty is done.”
He stepped beside her, and Arabella’s awareness of his presence intensified.
“You can call me Hugh, you know. Our families are close enough for us to drop formalities. And you? What do you think of Belle?”
There was something in the way he said “Belle” that sent a shiver down Arabella’s spine.
“It’s too common. I prefer my full name. It sounds more original, unique. Although, I suppose you’ve been Hugh your whole life, so you wouldn’t understand.”
“Ah, touché. I’ve heard you’re not one to hold back. It’s nice to see that’s true.”
“Why not? Are you in need of some sharp wit for your new estate? Count me out. I don’t plan on accompanying you. I doubt the living conditions there would suit me, considering you seem to have aged fifty years in just one.”
To Arabella’s surprise, he burst into laughter, a rich and hearty sound that filled the air.
She stared at him, captivated by the sight of him laughing. How many people did she know who could laugh so freely?
As he composed himself, Arabella averted her gaze, feeling strangely flustered.
“Ah, this season promises to be quite interesting, Belle. You’re a delight, and I knew you would be. I’ll leave you to enjoy the evening. Until we meet again, which I hope will be very soon.”
With a wink, he walked away as silently as he had arrived.
Arabella watched him go, her mind racing. What had just transpired between them?
As she pondered the encounter, one question stood out in her mind: What on earth was she going to make of all this?

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Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book? *

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It can be a character, a scene, a trait, or anything, you have enjoyed.

Which type of stories do you find more engaging: those that are lighthearted and uplifting or those that explore deep internal and external conflicts? *

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• I enjoy stories that delve into deep internal and external conflicts, as they provide a more thought-provoking and intense reading experience.

Do you find yourself more captivated by the forbidden love between societal classes or the slow-burning, enemies-to-lovers type of romance? *

• Forbidden love between societal classes.
• Slow-burning enemies-to-lovers romance.

Are rape/suicide scenes too much for you to bear even if it is a good plot device? * *

• Yes, I cannot bear reading about such delicate topics, even if they drive the plot further.
• Not really. I don't mind, mostly because it gives interesting trauma background that can create a great plot.
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Two Years Later…

Venetia smiled, her delicate fingers caressing the roses that flourished alongside the ornamental pool in the back of Ashbourne Manor. The blooms this year were particularly lovely, their glorious fragrance permeating the air and bringing her immense joy.

Tending to the roses herself was an impossible task due to her current condition, but that didn’t diminish her happiness. The past two years had exceeded her wildest dreams. After the fire had devastated Fairchild Manor, Venetia and Richard had wed just a month later. Richard’s mother had warmly embraced her, and they had developed a close bond, united by tales of Arabella Fairchild and Richard’s own story.

Miss Wilkes, the assistant head cook at Ashbourne Manor, had also become Venetia’s caretaker. Juggling her duties in the kitchen and as a ladies’ maid, the older woman seemed to have found true happiness. Venetia’s father had accompanied them to Ashbourne, and his move to a townhouse in London had proven beneficial. Away from the haunting memories of the manor, his episodes had become infrequent, his mind clearer, and his mood uplifted. Though he still retained a touch of solemnity and melancholy, he was vastly improved and able to tend to his business and family once more.

While Venetia’s father would never relish Society events, he now attended them with contentment when hosted at Ashbourne. In the previous Season, he had even made efforts to reconcile with old friends and associates from bygone days. The fortunes of the Wilmont family had taken a turn for the better as well. Lord Fairchild had bestowed Venetia with a substantial dowry and collaborated with Richard and Lord Wolmont to rescue the family’s finances. Together, they had settled the Wilmont family’s debts and revived their struggling business interests. Although it would take time to fully recover their previous affluence, dire straits were now a thing of the past.

In light of these improvements, Lord Wilmont had made amends with his son, and their relationship had grown surprisingly amiable. Richard proved to possess a superior acumen for business and social connections compared to his late brother. Though he didn’t relish the administrative aspects of family affairs, his efforts had fortified the social contacts essential for the family’s prosperity.

The scandal involving Lady Clarisse had eventually faded into obscurity, causing minimal damage to the Wilmont family’s reputation. The transgressions against a relatively minor but beautiful and wealthy member of the ton paled in comparison to the reemergence of the reclusive Fairchild family, Lord Fairchild’s renewed presence in high society, and the debut of the previously unknown daughter of the family.

Clarisse had found another match, and Venetia occasionally crossed paths with her at social gatherings, though they made an effort to avoid each other. As strong arms enveloped her, Venetia giggled, her husband’s presence bringing her back to the present.

“My lovely wife, what occupies your thoughts?” Richard inquired, his voice filled with affection. “You seemed lost among the clouds.”

“I was merely contemplating all that has transpired and how our lives have changed since that night,” Venetia replied.
“Hmmm,” Richard murmured. “The night we met? Or the night I finally claimed you as my own?”

“Both, and so much more,” Venetia laughed. “I was also thinking about transplanting some of the jasmine from the old Fairchild family grounds. I miss my jasmine plants, especially the unique blossoms I had.”

“I’m certain some of them have survived, my dear. But perhaps it isn’t the right time to search for them,” Richard said, his hand gently resting on her belly. Venetia followed the reflection in the pool before them, smiling at the sight.

Even in the water’s reflection, the swollen, rounded curvature of her belly couldn’t be missed—a testament to the child she carried. Any day now, she would give birth, evident from the prominence of her stomach and the accompanying back, hip, and foot discomfort.

“You’re right, I suppose,” Venetia conceded, her brow furrowing as a wave of discomfort washed over her abdomen. “Nevertheless…” Her words trailed off as another surge of sensation coursed through her body. Dull, vise-like pains had plagued her since morning, growing more frequent and intense.

“Venetia?” Richard’s voice brimmed with concern.

She intended to respond, to share her feelings, but she never got the chance. Another intense cramp gripped her, followed by a torrent of wetness running down her legs. Gripping her husband’s hand, she cried out.

“Venetia?!” Richard’s voice filled with panic. “What…?”

“Take me inside and fetch Miss Wilkes,” she gasped through another wave of pain. “The baby is coming.”

Seconds later, she found herself in her husband’s arms, carried swiftly into the house.

*****

Richard gazed at the door, beyond which his wife had vanished hours ago. He reflected that he had never moved with such haste as when Venetia had informed him of the imminent arrival of their baby, not even on the night of the fire at Fairchild Manor. However, no sooner had he ushered her inside than Miss Wilkes, his mother, and a group of maids swiftly whisked her away. One of them had been dispatched to fetch a skilled midwife or physician for childbirth.
Less than an hour later, the midwife arrived, and since then, the door remained tightly shut, except for the maids scurrying in and out to procure fresh linens and hot water. Richard had made one tentative effort to enter the sanctuary but was promptly rebuffed.

His father and Lord Fairchild had promptly vanished to the smoking room, leaving him alone in the hallway with Joseph. He rather wished he could join them, and only the knowledge that he had pledged to witness the birth of his child kept him from fleeing.

The sounds emanating from the chamber, even muffled by the closed door, were harrowing. Blood-curdling screams and agonizing wails interchanged with a torrent of curses that Richard would never have imagined his lovely and gentle wife capable of uttering. He had heard profanities that would make a sailor blush and had been threatened with castration no less than five times if he dared to lay a hand on his wife again.

Another piercing scream pierced the air, causing Richard to wince. He sought solace in Joseph’s presence, but the valet appeared just as bewildered, terrified, and uncertain as Richard felt. Clearly, he had been as taken aback by Venetia’s threats and insults as Richard himself.

Suddenly, silence enveloped the surroundings, and the two men exchanged questioning glances, pondering what was unfolding within. Then the door swung open, and Richard instinctively moved forward before remembering his previous futile attempt to enter.

Miss Wilkes emerged into the corridor, fatigued but content. “Your wife requests your presence, my lord.” Richard stared at her, and the cook snorted indignantly, prodding him sharply in the ribs. “You’d best go in there, young man, before you agitate her further.”

Those words propelled him into motion. Richard hastened to comply, though his numb feet and pounding heart hindered his progress. He entered the room as swiftly as he could manage.

Inside, Venetia reclined against a mound of pillows, pale and weary, yet her smile conveyed a hint of delight. And cradled in her arms…

Richard advanced, captivated by the sight of the small, swathed bundle nestled in his wife’s embrace. Venetia gazed up, her countenance radiant as she whispered to him, “Come and behold, Richard…we have a daughter.”

He stepped closer, his eyes fixated on the tiny, reddened face cocooned in blankets. He marveled at the miniature hand peeking out from beneath the fabric’s edge. Tears welled in his eyes. “She is exquisite, much like her mother.”

“She is glorious. Perfect.” Venetia beamed, and Richard felt his heart overflow with joy.

He enfolded his wife and daughter, content to settle beside them, listening to their rhythmic breathing. When he had returned home, he had believed it to be the end of his happiness. Yet now, seated beside his wife and their newborn child, Richard Wilmont knew he had finally discovered everything he had longed for: purpose, tranquility, family, and, above all, love.

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Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book? *

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

What moment from the book you enjoyed the most? *

It can be a character, a scene, a trait, or anything, you have enjoyed.

Which type of stories do you find more engaging: those that are lighthearted and uplifting or those that explore deep internal and external conflicts? *

• I prefer lighthearted and uplifting stories that bring joy and positivity to my reading experience.
• I enjoy stories that delve into deep internal and external conflicts, as they provide a more thought-provoking and intense reading experience.

Do you find yourself more captivated by the forbidden love between societal classes or the slow-burning, enemies-to-lovers type of romance? *

• Forbidden love between societal classes.
• Slow-burning enemies-to-lovers romance.

Which aspect of the book stood out to you the most: the characters and their conversations or the vivid descriptions of the settings and events? *

• The characters and their conversations!
• The vivid descriptions of settings and events!

Which type of setting would you find more captivating for a Regency romance novel: an enchanting indoor house or manor or a picturesque outdoor landscape? *

• An enchanting indoor house or manor!
• Picturesque outdoor landscape!

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Three Years Later

The beautiful couple walked hand in hand through one of the meadows they often frolicked when time allowed it, with the sun shining down on them. The day was warm and pleasant, and exactly what they both needed.

They discussed the estate and all the pressing details Euan had been consumed by as of late. While Iris didn’t know some of the gritty details, for she was often busy managing the household, she insisted on being informed of what occurred.

She learned the ropes of what it meant to be a duke through her husband and was quickly acquainted with her own role as duchess. While most were expected to meander in London during the season and become well acquainted with the ton, neither of them cared much for it and rather chose to remain in the comfortable home they made with one another.

Iris found his duties fascinating, even if they were mundane to him. She was grateful for the lessons he often gave her.

Walking through the long grasses dotted with wildflowers, she took a deep breath in to soak up the wonderful smells around her.

“Ever since Kian returned from his tour of Europe, Mother has been pressuring both him and Darragh to find wives of their own,” Euan said with a hint of amusement in their eyes. “It’s their turn to bear her insistent eye over everything.”

“I’m sure it is a relief to not be the one facing that scrutiny any longer.”

He released an exasperated breath and nodded in agreement. “It’s about time that pressure was lifted from my shoulders. Darragh has grumbled endlessly to me about how persistent she is. Little do they know, this is only the beginning.”

Iris laughed at the notion as the grass brushed against her palm. “I cannot imagine Darragh or Kian ever getting married.”

“Heaven save those poor women,” he uttered, chuckling to himself.

“Although rakes do make the perfect husbands,” Iris mused, smiling at her husband.

He cocked a brow at her, swinging their hands up so he could kiss the back of hers. “Is that so?”

“I feel I have the authority to speak on the matter myself,” she said, grinning at him. “I’m certain that with time, your brothers will settle and find the young ladies who can best tolerate them and their…habits.”

Euan snickered and continued their careful troll through the meadow. “It would be a blessing if she could manage to speak to Darragh without any wine in his system. Now that is a rare occurrence.”

“Did either of them receive the same preening you did for the role of the Duke?” she asked, curious about the family dynamic and their places in the grand scheme of things.

He shook his head. “Only I was since I am the eldest. Father attempted to show them the ropes, but Kian was too absent-minded, and Darragh cared more for women and debauchery than how to record the latest numbers and keep accounts.”

“I don’t have any doubt of that.”

A small smile pulled on his lips that flickered into a sad one for a moment. “If only Dad were here to see at least one of his sons finally taking the name seriously. While mother has been overbearing at times, it is a relief to know she trusts me with it all.”

“He is with you in some ways, I’m sure,” Iris insisted, offering her hope. “I know he would be proud of you for everything you have accomplished.”

“Everything we have accomplished,” he corrected, grin pulled tightly.

Three years had come and gone since they first met—since that fateful day in the rain—and they had a beautiful life together.

Neither of them had anticipated just how their lives would weave and tangle with one another, but there was nothing they would change.

They had built their home, started their family, and watched as their love grew stronger with each passing day.

There was much to be grateful for, and they had no shortage of appreciation for how their luck had turned around.

Iris had been a restless young lady with the desire to see what had been otherwise hidden from her—a whole different way of life from what she was accustomed to. She took a leap of faith that changed her trajectory and gave her the experience she needed to better understand the world around her and those in it.

The Duke had been resistant to his role, preferring to remain hidden away in his estate and despising anything to do with the ton. While he still favored his countryseat over London, he had at least found himself more capable of being near them, more confident in himself as a duke. He had been picky about his future wife for good reason, and nothing could make him believe any other woman could fulfill him as Iris did.

Their initial meeting and forced proximity had been awkward and not ideal, yet they had managed to make the most of it and came together for better and for worse.

They helped one another to see what they were unable to before, offering a new perspective. With that, their love blossomed and molded them into better versions of themselves.

Through their time together, Iris learned how different her life was compared to that of a maid and just how difficult the job was. She developed a better appreciation for them and always treasured her dear helpers moving forward.

Euan discovered the word wasn’t against him or out to sabotage him. While he had been scorned by the ton before, Iris helped him see that their opinions of him didn’t matter so long as he was happy and pursuing something worth his time and attention. He was in charge of his own fate, and he could make those decisions to fit his own needs without relying on another’s opinion.

They found love and comfort in one another, and that was all they could ask for.

A gentle breeze swept by them as they appreciated the scenery around them. No matter how many times they walked that same path, it never grew old.

“I caught wind of one of the footmen fancying Bonnie,” Iris said after some time, recalling how that tidbit of gossip had perked her attention.

“Does she return those feelings?”

“She hasn’t said it explicitly, nor did I ask outright, although I did notice how her cheeks turned pink after he aided her into our carriage recently,” she murmured, thinking back to that day. “I wished to implore what caused the reaction, yet she was far too bashful, and I couldn’t bear to make it worse.”

Euan chuckled. “Perhaps there is an opportunity for us to encourage their exploration of this possible connection?”

Iris feigned her shock. “Are you scheming, husband?”

He mocked a scandalized expression in return with his hand over his heart. “I would never!”

Laughing together, she looped her arm through his and leaned into him while they walked.

Their hearts warmed, forever amused by how easily they got along and could banter. They both knew that was often a rare occurrence for arranged couples, and they considered themselves incredibly lucky.

Before long, Iris paused the moment she saw movement ahead, realizing who it was at once.

With her brunette hair flying behind her, swept back with the wind, their little girl Sophia ran toward them, swinging her arms enthusiastically. She was shouting, but they couldn’t yet glean what she was saying.

Amused by the sight, the two of them laughed at their daughter, who always saw so much wonder in the world. It reminded Iris of herself.

“Mama! Papa!” the little girl shouted, finally reaching them. Her chest heaved, out of breath the moment she threw her arms around their legs. “Come quick; you must see what I found.”

They exchanged a confused look, but without wasting a moment, they followed Sophia through the meadow. Wearing their smiles and anticipation, they moved through the tall grass while the sun’s warmth beamed down on them and created one of the most beautiful days either of them had seen.

They reached the end of the field that overlooked a clearing far below, and the most magnificent sight became apparent to them.

Stretching as far as the eye could see, a meadow of wildflowers went on and on like a sea of colors. Every part of the rainbow was present, all just as bright and incredible to gaze upon. The sky above was crystal clear and free of any clouds while the sun shined brilliantly.

It was unlike anything they had ever seen. Even more incredible than seeing the flowers up close.

Iris gasped in awe, eyes gleaming with happiness and amazement while they gazed at the field of freesias.

At once, her mind returned to that time they shared among the flowers. Euan had arranged it all, down to speaking with Miss Spencer and having the quilt arranged with the picnic basket. He fed her strawberries dipped in chocolate while they drank wine, soaking in the allure of one another.

She didn’t think he could ever top the hot spring, but he did so effortlessly, taking her by surprise. He had kissed her so feverishly that her head spun, and she couldn’t think of anything else but him.

They made love for the first time, and Iris knew then and there that her feelings for him would never change. He had been determined to make her stay, and he had done exactly that.

The young mother looked up at her husband as her heart swelled with love, so overwhelmed by it that the emotions tickled her nose. She couldn’t believe how everything had gone in their favor, and she knew there was no other man she would rather build her life with.

Euan met her gaze and smiled, features just as handsome as they had been the day they met on the road.

Even after all those years, he had the ability to make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, and she would never stop being grateful for it.

He had left his impression on her, along with all the special things he ever treated her to, and those warm memories would be with her forever.

“Thank you, Euan,” she said softly, unable to take her eyes away from his despite the beautiful view ahead of them. “For everything.”

Her husband smiled down at her as he slipped an arm around her back, bringing her close. His eyes were so flooded with love that her heart raced, certain that he could hear it. It didn’t matter, for his pounded all the same.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than by your side, my love,” he murmured. He couldn’t be surer about anything else. “For all eternity.”

He dipped his head down to press his lips against her gently, feather-light yet so full of love and adoration that her knees nearly wobbled. Their noses touched as they shared a smile, foreheads pressed together.

Her heart stirred, blanketed by the familiar warmth that often consumed her when he was near. She would never grow tired of being just as awestruck by his touch, and the way she reacted to him never grew old.

As they returned their attention to the freesias down below, surrounded by the beauty of their estate and nature, Iris knew they could face every challenge life could throw their way. With their daughter at their feet and a symbol of the love and passion they always shared, anything was possible.

She only wished her younger self could know what was ahead of her and what she had to look forward to. For if she had, then perhaps she would be less resistant to marrying the brutish Duke her father had found in her stead, who turned out to be the man of her dreams.

Love worked in strange ways, yet she had grown to welcome it.

The gentle breeze kept the sun’s warmth at bay, gleaming over the wildflowers while they swayed. The light floral scents of spring and early summer wafted all around them, keeping Iris in that time she treasured most.

“There’s no time to waste,” Euan said suddenly, bending down to scoop Sophia in his arms and placing her on his shoulders.

She squealed happily, laughing once she was settled and held on to his neck gently.

He began down the slope, watching his step with his daughter hanging on.

“Where are you going?” Iris asked with a laugh, watching how he moved gingerly.

With a glance back at her, he smiled. “To fetch some fresh freesias, of course. Race you there!”

Heart fluttering at the thought, she had no mind to deny him, and she wasn’t one to concede. With that usual spark of competitiveness coursing through her, Iris lifted the skirt of her dress and hurried after them.

Laughing, she scaled the slope quickly to try and catch up to them. Their amused sounds mingled in the quiet picturesque scene, only spurring more excitement and wonder inside her.

As they raced down to the field that had a special place in her heart, Iris felt utterly content and wouldn’t trade her life for anything.

Even if it took pretending to be a maid to achieve.

In the end, it was all worth it.

If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…

Eugenia Humphries never forgot her first heartbreak. When Dorian Townsend vanished without a trace and left her without explanation, she made a solemn vow to guard her heart from any man’s touch. And yet, years later, fate intervenes with a life-changing letter, bringing Dorian, now the Duke of Richmond, face to face with the woman he left behind. As Eugenia becomes his sister’s governess, their hearts collide once more, but amidst hurt, hate, and a rival’s courtship, can they rekindle a love that never truly faded? For they say love is a flame, and this time, they will both get burned…

A Game to Tempt the Duke

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• Picturesque outdoor landscape!

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Esther

This was a day that she never thought would come.

Here she stood at the end of a chapel, with flowers braided into her hair, in a beautiful white dress. Lucious’ hands were in her own. The pallor had gone from his skin, which now looked bright and healthy. He sported a summer tan from the work he insisted on doing outside. The pastor read them their vows, and she could not stop smiling.

When she had been a little girl, waiting for her turn to be out in Society, she had dreamt of this day. She had imagined that she would have gotten married at St. Anthony’s in the city. She had imagined the gowns she would wear and the people that she would invite, she had plotted and planned the ball she would host after her honeymoon was over. Esther had planned every detail of her fantasy dream wedding . . . all but the actual groom himself.

Even then, she had known that marriage was her duty but not something she wanted. It had been inevitable back then, something she would have simply been forced to do, whether she liked it or not. There would be no options. And when her father’s scandal had disrupted her whole life for what she had presumed would be the worse, the wedding, the honeymoon, and the ball had become just another dream she had been forced to let go of.

Esther was adaptable. She was of the mind that she could endure just about anything if she truly put her mind to it. She knew it was possible. She had adjusted to life on the small farm and living her life in the cottage with her mother, and she had been happy enough. Then, life had decided that not nearly enough had happened to her, and fate had given her Lucious.

A whirlwind of an adventure, to say the absolute least . . . and then she was here. She stood in a chapel on her wedding day, and once the marriage was official, she would be a duchess. A woman of means and title, who would spend much of her time in the small village in the dukedom, helping her husband with his new hobby of farming.

She did not regret a single bit of it.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Lucious spoke in clear tones as he slipped the modest ring that Esther had insisted upon onto her finger with a giddy smile. “Your turn, love.”

Esther felt nearly moved to tears, but not so much as her mother, who was sniffing tearfully into her handkerchief with happiness from the front pew. Esther glanced in her mother’s direction. It was not as if she was looking for permission, even if it meant she would have to leave her mother’s side for a time. Mother had always wanted Esther to wed, she had always insisted that Esther needed to give herself a chance to live life to the fullest . . . she had always claimed it was her dearest wish.
Until now, seeing how much joy it gave her mother, Esther had never quite believed it before.
Mother waved her handkerchief in her direction as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’

Esther’s grip on Lucious’ hands tightened as the words slipped easily from her tongue. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Esther did not need to be told twice. Her hands slid up Lucious’ chest and entwined around his neck as she kissed him. It would have been only too simple to allow herself to become lost in the sensation of it. He was hers. He was really and truly all hers—and her heart felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest with elation.

The small crowd of gathered guests cheered for them as Esther and Lucious headed out of the chapel but were not yet bound for their carriage. No, there was one more place that Esther insisted upon seeing before they returned to the manor for the wedding breakfast. They took the path toward the woods instead. Esther gathered her skirts in her hands as they quickened their pace. Ultimately, Lucious could not take another moment and scooped her up into his arms.

“There, head that way,” Esther commanded, pointing when they were close enough. “I do not think I ever told you that I was picking mushrooms when I found you, so I know exactly where it is.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Naturally,” Esther teased as they came upon the small clearing where they first met. Emotion clogged her throat. “Oh, I did not think it would be quite so moving to be here again . . .”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Lucious moved over to the rock that was still stained with his blood and shuddered. “To think that this very rock might have been the whole cause of it all . . .”

“I still cannot believe how terrifying that night must have been for you, being chased and fired upon. I shudder to think of it.” Esther wrapped her arms around herself as she peered down at the rock.

“All things happen for a reason, my darling wife. If I had not been chased by those two mad people that night, we might not have ever met,” Lucious offered sweetly, and Esther nodded.

“I do like it when you call me your wife.”

“Well, that is what you are, is it not?” Lucious moved to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her into his chest.

“I am, and such a happy wife I shall be.” Esther giggled.

“In my old life . . . I was so deeply unhappy. The more of my memories I force myself to look through, the more apparent it becomes how unlovable I felt, alone and scared. I lashed out at everyone around me. I suppose I thought that if I lashed out at them first, they would not ever get the chance to harm me.” Lucious sighed. “Not that it excuses my actions, but I suppose I say all of that because I find it incredible to be standing here with the woman of my dreams, whom I am fortunate enough to be able to call my wife.”

Esther giggled and kissed him before she spun out of his arms. She skipped over to a familiar log and hopped up on the solid surface, balancing easily. “I suppose we ought to figure out what we are planning on doing next, now that we are married.”

The sounds of the forest were a lovely backdrop to their conversation.

“Well, we can do anything you like. We could travel, see the world, if you wish. We could embark upon new adventures, whatever your heart desires,” Lucious offered as he walked beside her, holding his hand up to steady her should she need it.

“I do agree that we ought to do something, after the honeymoon, of course. There are no more limits to our future. We should go out and enjoy every moment,” Esther agreed.

“Yes. That way, should I ever be forced to recover my memories again, I will have far more pleasant ones to draw from,” Lucious said, grinning.

“Do not even jest about such a thing! Bold of you to presume that I would be willing to nurse you back to health yet again.”

“Third time is the charm is the phrase I am thinking of, dearest,” Lucious chuckled.

“I do think that we shall have to delay our travels for a short while though . . .” Esther mused ominously.

“Oh? And what reason do we have to delay? I thought we both agreed that life is far too short to waste.” Lucious turned to watch her as the sunlight danced through the trees, making patterns over her beautiful face.

“Well, the reason is very simple.” Esther came to a stop directly in front of Lucious with a grin that she could contain no longer. “I am expecting.”

“Expecting? Expecting what?” Lucious laughed.

Esther hit his chest playfully. “I am expecting, you fool!”

It still took another long moment for Lucious to understand her meaning. When he did, his eyes widened in shock as he placed both of his hands on Esther’s hips. He lifted her in the air and happily spun her around the forest floor while she giggled.

“Careful! I have only recently learned the news, and I will likely be sick if you keep spinning me all about like this!” Esther complained, so that Lucious put her back onto her feet. He placed his hands over her belly with a smile.

“We are going to have a child . . .”

“Yes. We are going to have a child. One we should name Barnaby,” Esther giggled.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Lucious protested.
Esther shook her head. “No. Boy or girl, it shall be called Barnaby. I am a duchess and I decree it!”

“You cannot be serious.”

“No, of course not. I am Esther. Who is serious?”

“You are impossible.”

“And you love me for it!”

“That I do, more than I can ever possibly express to you, my love.” Lucious pulled her into his arms as the setting sun formed a beautiful backdrop to their loving embrace.

Esther knew she had something special, and she would be a fool to think otherwise. She had married her best friend, her partner, and her better half in every way. She slipped her hands into Lucious’ as they turned to head back into town, eager to begin their life together. Regardless of what might be thrown at them.

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Two years later

Peter and Medea sat in the library, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books. Medea admired the room’s beauty, the high ceilings, the intricate moldings, and the mahogany bookcases that lined the walls. The smell of fresh books filled the air, a comforting and familiar scent that made her feel right at home.

“This is a lovely space,” Medea said, running her hand over the spine of a book. “I can’t believe how fortunate we are to have it.”

Peter smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with affection. “We are lucky indeed. The old library had been in our family for generations. It is lucky we were able to save at least some of it.”

Medea nodded, her gaze drifting to the window. “It hard to believe that this library and most of our home was nothing but ash just a few months ago.”

Peter’s expression grew serious. “Yes, it was a terrible loss, all our books gone in an instant.”

“But we were blessed,” Medea said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Our friends and the community rallied around us. They gifted us hundreds of books, and we’ve been able to rebuild our collection.” It was true. After Medea and Peter returned from their honeymoon, an extended trip to Scotland, they had been shocked to find their ruined home back to its former glory.

Henry had oversaw the construction and reconstruction of Peter’s family home, and Medea’s father helped whenever needed.

Together with Thomas, the two men had ensured their home was ready for them—and not just ready, comfortably furnished and with enough books to last them a lifetime. The old library had been replicated due to Howard’s input, and many of their books had been replaced.

Much of this was due to Thomas and Howard’s efforts. Together, they’d compiled a list of books they knew Peter loved and then obtained a similar list from Althea, Matilda, and Clara for Medea.

Then, they’d combed through London’s bookshops to purchase as many as possible. Soon, word had spread that the Duke and Duchess of Lennox loved books, and donations had poured in from their fellow lords and ladies.

Along with books, furniture, curtains, wine, and cutlery, everything they might need, had been donated. Under Lord Foley’s leadership, the donations had been sorted and placed in the home. Whatever was not needed had been donated to charitable causes Medea and Peter both cared about. A large portion had gone to the Wounded Soldier Society run by Mr. Donovan.

Thanks to Howard’s keen business sense, Peter’s investments had grown exponentially during his absence, and he found he was once again flush with money. Indeed, he had been so flush that he’d given a healthy dose of money to Mr. Donovan for his new society. In addition, Medea and Peter had invested in a new program that sought to train animals to help those without sight. He didn’t know if such a venture would ever work out, but he thought it worthwhile.

As for their home, it was beautiful. Peter had been a little apprehensive upon their return, as he had to re-learn his home, but with Isaac and Roger’s help, he’d managed soon enough.

Indeed, they were to hold a housewarming ball, as Althea called it, the following week to thank their friends, neighbors, and families for their generosity.

Peter cleared his throat, a hint of a smile returning to his lips. “Yes, we were lucky indeed. Good friends and family have supported us through thick and thin.”

Medea leaned against him, her hand resting on his arm. “We truly are blessed,” she said softly. “And we have each other, through all of life’s ups and downs as well.”

Peter wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Yes, we do,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “And I thank the stars every day for that.” He grinned in her direction. “I am also grateful for your willingness to read to me, my love. Thankfully, we have enough books once more.”

“Enough to last us until we are in our eighties,” Medea confirmed but took his hint. Medea picked up their latest book and giggled while Peter rested his head on her stomach and took a deep breath.

The novel called Mansfield Park, by an author simply named A Lady, was their latest addition, a gift from Clara. Medea managed to read three pages before Peter sat upright.

“I felt the baby kick.”

Medea sat on the couch with her hand resting on her swollen belly, feeling the baby move. Peter sat beside her, a smile on his face. “I think the baby likes the name Edmund if it’s a boy,” Medea said, given she’d just read a section containing that name.

Peter chuckled. “Or Fanny if it’s a girl.”

Medea wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think we should name our daughter Fanny.”

“Why not?” Peter asked. “It’s a perfectly lovely name.”

Medea shook her head. “It just doesn’t sound right to me. Besides, it is Brandon’s mother’s name.”

Peter let out a loud moan and shook his head. “Very well, not Fanny or Wilbur. That is his father’s name.” Peter shook his head. “They were always nice to me when I was a boy. What a disaster this all turned out to be for them. Their only son was buried and with the reputation of a madman. I am surprised his sister found a husband.”

Medea nodded, feeling unease in her stomach as she thought of those awful times. At least with Brandon gone for good, they knew they did not have to worry about these things anymore. A few of his friends continued to harass them whenever they were out, but far more people were willing to stand up for Peter and Medea. Those few ne’er-do-wells hardly troubled them anymore.

Suddenly, Roger jumped up on the couch and let out a bark. “I think he’s jealous,” Medea said.

Peter laughed. “I think he just wants to join in the search for a name.”

Medea smiled but shook her head at the dog. “We’re not naming the baby Roger.”

Roger placed his head on Medea’s rounded stomach, and the baby kicked again. Roger leaped off the couch and barked excitedly.

“He’s probably just happy to have a new person in the house,” Peter said. “He knows what pregnancy is because Matilda and Althea just had babies, and he met them before and after they were pregnant. He’s a clever boy, after all.”

Peter ruffled Roger’s fur, and the dog settled back on Medea’s lap, content. They sat quietly, listening to his breathing and the gentle movements of the baby inside Medea.

She resumed reading aloud from her book, but after a few minutes, she realized Peter had fallen asleep. Medea set the book down and gazed down at her sleeping husband. He appeared peaceful, and for that, she was immensely grateful. They’d been through a lot together, but nothing compared to what Peter had gone through on his own.

She ran her hand through his thick hair when Roger looked up. She petted him with her other hand and leaned back as a sense of calm washed over her.

Medea knew she finally had what she had always desired as she sat in their new home, so lovingly furnished by their friends, and with her husband and their dog beside her, a peaceful life with a man who loved her, a loyal companion, and soon a child of their own. Their future was bright, and she knew she’d love and adore Peter for the rest of their lives.

If you want to know what lies ahead in our story, you may want to get the sequel…

In a world of societal expectations and stifling traditions, Iris Linfield and Euan McNeil find themselves bound by fate and desire. As Iris desperately flees from an unwanted betrothal, little does she know that her escape will lead her right back to Euan—the very man she was determined to run away from. And when Euan uncovers the truth, his revenge will be a dish served hot, leaving her begging for more…

A Trick to Tame the Duke

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A Few Months Later…

Olympia gave a contended sigh as the warmth of the sun kissed her skin. The gentle waves lapped at the sides of the tiny boat, rocking their bodies back and forth.

Philip tightened his grip around her waist as she lay with her back against his chest. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked solicitously, kissing the scar on her forehead, the only reminder of the ordeal they had been through.

“Why do you like kissing my scar?” She asked, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

He kissed it again before replying. “Because it reminds me of the time when I nearly lost you. It reminds me to cherish every moment I have with you.”

She smiled happily at him as they lay in each other’s arms.

“Emma has decided to go abroad with one of her aunts until the scandal over her father dies down,” she said as she stared out over the sea. The shiny blue stone in her ring sparkled as it caught the light from the sky. “It’s strange that we have not heard from my uncle again, but I hope it stays that way.”

‘I know,” Philip confessed. “I’ve already told Frank. He was pretty cut up over the idea, but he hinted that he may go abroad and bump into her if he can find out where she is staying.”

Olympia suddenly laughed. “Are you sure he didn’t say he would SEE if he could bump into her?”

Philip rolled his eyes and laughed. “I was trying to avoid saying that, but yes, he did make that joke again. I hope things work out for them,” he said more earnestly. “They are good for each other.”

“They will. Love always has a way of finding a way, even in the most hopeless of situations.” She turned around and gave him a cheeky grin. “So, Your Grace, are you going to let me try to sail this thing back to the shore?”

Jumping up, Philip made his way to the back of the boat and began to untie the sails. “I think I will be sailing us back in, it’s safer that way,” he teased.

“I wasn’t so bad, I got us here in one piece, didn’t I?” she complained, pouting and laughing.

“Barely, my love, barely,” he joked. “Sailing just isn’t your strong point.”

Standing, Olympia made her way to him and pretended to want a kiss before pushing him into the water.

Philip disappeared for a second or two before resurfacing again. He quickly wiped the water from his face and grinned at her.

“That’s what you get for saying I can’t sail a boat,” she told him triumphantly, her hands on her hips.

Philip laughed and rolled his eyes. “Forgive me; come and give me a hand, and we can call it even.” He swam to the side of the boat and held his hand out to her.

Olympia griped it to help him up, and her eyes widened in shock as he suddenly pulled her over the side and into the icy depths. She gasped for air as she resurfaced, slapping water into his face as part of her revenge.

He laughed before swimming over to her and drawing her into his arms for a kiss.

“My mother was right,” she said when he finally drew away from her again.

“Oh?”

“Things have a way of ending as they should.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he said with a smile, kissing her again. “This isn’t the end at all. It’s just the beginning. We need to get to work on securing my legacy now,” he said mischievously, suddenly tickling her sides, and making her squeal with laughter.

“Gladly, Your Grace,” she said as she drew him in for another long kiss

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1814 

“They are here! They are here!” shouted Charlotte Reeves, bounding alongside the carriage with more excitement than a child should be able to contain. 

“I saw them first!” yelled Tom, racing his other siblings to be the first to reach the house. 

“Be careful, children!” Anne shouted through the window, laughing at the sheer delight their arrival had caused. “Do you know Jace, I think they are pleased to see us?” 

“I suspect so as well, my love,” he replied, nodding toward the door of Reeves House. “Everyone is out to greet us, and your parents are with them.” 

Anne practically squealed with excitement herself, barely waiting for the carriage step to be put down before bounding out into the arms of the Earl and Countess. 

“Oh, how I have missed you both,” she announced, “although your letters are such comfort, it is not the same as you being with me.” 

“We have missed you as well, dear Annie,” said her father, his eyes wet with unshed tears. Two years of correspondence had done much to mend their relationship, and Anne was truly happy to see him once again. 

There were hugs and kisses and jokes all around, compliments given and presents exchanged, until, finally, they were all settled in the morning room, Charlotte occupying the prime seat, squeezed between Jace and Anne on the sofa. 

“A lieutenant colonel now,” said Anne’s father to Jace with considerable respect. “We saw the commendations you received in the papers, my boy. It seems you are a great favorite with the Duke of Wellington.” 

“I think we are all great favorites with him now Napoleon is safely on Elba, my lord,” said Jace with a depreciating chuckle. “I am grateful for the honor they have disposed upon me, however, and I am proud to have acquitted myself well at Toulouse.” 

“He was marvelous,” said Anne, swelling up with pride as she looked at her husband. “Hayworth said he was instrumental in the success of the campaign, and he is almost sorry the war is now over.” 

“Napoleon, abdicating,” said Sidney with a disbelieving shake of his head. “I can hardly countenance such a thing.” 

“And yet here we are,” said Jace with an easy smile. “A half-pay officer and his wife, back to darken the Devonshire countryside.” 

Amelia sat bolt upright. “You are returning to Devonshire?” she asked with a hopeful glance at Anne. 

“If Devonshire will have us,” joked Jace. 

“And if Father is happy for us to settle at Seacrest,” added Anne, smiling at her father. “I know you have been looking after the estate on our behalf, but if we may stay with you while the house is brought slap up to the echo, then we think it is the perfect place for us to settle down.” 

“I have already begun structural repairs in hope of such an announcement,” said the Earl, a little sheepishly, while Anne’s mother could not contain the tears of happiness at this news. 

“Oh, my darlings! I have always supported your great adventure on the Continent, but I confess, all I desire is for you to be close to us.” 

“Is it because of your baby, Godmama?” asked Charlotte, patting a hand on Anne’s stomach. 

The ensuing silence was broken by a burst of laughter from Jace. 

“Charlotte, you little monkey; how did you know?” 

“I felt it kicking,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Was I not supposed to say anything?” 

“It is fine, my darling, you just announced it a little sooner than we intended,” said Anne, kissing Charlotte on the nose. 

“A grandchild!” said the Earl, beaming as though the sun had climbed inside of him. “I am going to be a grandfather!” 

“Which is why we are coming back to Devonshire,” admitted Jace. “Facing down an army of Frenchies is one thing, but the thought of rearing just one more Reeves child is quite terrifying.” 

“But you will not be bored, settling down to be a country squire?” asked Sidney. “I want you home more than anything, Brother, but are you sure this is the life for you?” 

“There are a great many soldiers returning to England with no work here waiting for them,” said Anne as she reached over to squeeze Jace upon the knee. “We will open up the lands to those men who need recuperation, provide a home for those who have no means to support themselves, and work for those who require it.  Jace will still be a soldier but fighting a different kind of fight.” 

“What a marvelous plan,” said the Dowager Lady Reeves. “Your father would be so proud of you!” 

“I am not out of the military altogether,” laughed Jace. “There is always a chance old Napoleon will escape captivity, and I will be called upon to resume my post.” 

“Do not joke about such things,” said the Countess with a shudder, which merely amused Anne and Jace still further. 

“Fear not, Mother,” said Anne reassuringly. “Even if that did happen, Wellington’s army would put a swift end to it, and Jace would come out the other side an unscathed hero, for he promised me as much. Besides, he has an angel watching over him, and he shall never come to harm while I am at his side.” 

The tea tray was brought in, and the conversation turned to more pleasant things. 

Anne sighed happily. The man she loved was at her side, his child growing within her, and her family was all about them. Nothing could destroy her happiness, for with their support Anne knew she could take on Napoleon himself, and win. 

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September, 1818

If one were to open a dictionary to look up the definition of the word “happiness,” one might see a portrait of Susan Forbes right next to it as an example. She could not remember ever being quite so happy. Two years into her marriage to the love of her life had not dampened her love and affection for him at all. A week after their wedding, they set off for the most wonderful honeymoon a woman could have asked for. Benjamin had done the Grand Tour before as a younger man, but he had been eager to show his new wife all of the splendor of the Continent and make love to her in every beautiful site of significance. He’d had her in the bedroom of the finest hotel in Paris, in the carriage ride through the Black Forest, in a garden in Switzerland, and even on the balcony of their hotel in Venice.

All of that lovemaking was proven fruitful as a year later, Susan had given birth to a bundle of joy they called George after her late father. The both of them had been overjoyed. They doted on him, as did their grandmothers.

Susan was kept busy not just by her infant son but by her business. Her mother had officially given her full charge of the Eros Agency. Of course, Susan still consulted her for help, especially when she’d just given birth to George, but it was solely her business. She still did not want to have an office for it, as she felt that to be too impersonal, so she ran her business out of the drawing room in her new home. And now, she even had a business partner. After realizing that Jane was actually quite adept at reading people, she invited her on to be a matchmaker as well. Mrs. Epping, as she was called now, had been delighted. She was pregnant wth her second child and her daughter Elizabeth was a year older than George. She, too, had never been happier.

In order to have privacy and make room for more children throughout the years, Benjamin purchased a large and lovely home in the nicest part of Bath. They visited Pembroke at Christmas and during the summer, but both of them really preferred city life to the country. It was large and roomy, and Susan had decorated it in a way that suited both of them. Light-colored walls with beautiful chintz upholstery on all the furniture invited guests in, no matter if they were family or complete strangers seeking a match.

It was the last days of summer, and there was only a little bit of time left before the start of the Season. Susan and Jane sat in the garden at the back of Susan’s house, watching their babies crawl or toddle around. They had originally been placed on a large blanket in the grass but had since branched out and decided to pick up the blades of grass and throw them around like confetti. The children giggled as they watched the green blades flutter in the evening breeze.

“Isn’t it lovely to see them playing like this?” Jane asked, a smile on her face. It still had the cherubic roundness of her youth but with more maturity and wisdom.

“Oh yes. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of watching them discover new things,” Susan agreed. “Speaking of new things… you’ve a new one coming along soon. How are you feeling? Are you all prepared?”

“Oh, indeed. John has been most attentive. And it was so lovely of your mother and mother-in-law to send those baskets. They will be most helpful.”

“My mother considers you as one of her daughters, too,” Susan said.

After Lady Notley had disowned her daughter, Jane had not spoken to her. It had been years. It must be painful, Susan often thought to herself. Even if they had never gotten along and Jane had felt stifled by her overbearing mother, there was still a bond between mothers and daughters that she could not even begin to explain. She had only asked Jane about it on one occasion, who had airily replied that she was happy with her current situation. Susan never brought it up again, perhaps it was still painful, or perhaps Jane was doing her best to separate herself from her mother completely. At least her husband’s family loved her. And Susan’s own mother loved her, as well—it was not untrue to say that Louisa Seymour thought of Jane as her own daughter.

The sun began to lower in the sky, and the babies grew tired. They crawled less and demanded attention. Susan and Jane scooped up their respective children and made their way into the kitchen, procuring snacks. The cook, a sweet older woman with a ruddy face from standing in a hot kitchen all day, smiled sweetly at them.

“I’ll put on the kettle for ye ladies an’ have it brought out to ye in the drawing room,” she said in her Northern accent.

“Thank you, Prue. That would be most helpful,” Susan said. She’d made it a point to get to know all the new staff they’d hired. Stokes and Haxby were still with them, as were many others. It took a lot to run the household of a future Duke, Susan realized early on in her marriage.

When they reached the drawing room, the babies were asleep. There were cradles by the hearth, so each woman put their child in their respective cradles before moving over to the sofa. One of the maids brought tea in, and both women thanked her profusely. Susan asked after the young woman’s health and family while Jane watched admiringly.

“It is impressive that you know specific things about each of your staff,” Jane said after the maid left.

“I tried very hard to learn all I could when I first started. I never wanted to be one of those women who just ordered their servants about with no regard for their personal lives.”

“You do it well. How is his lordship?” Jane asked, sipping the tea.

Susan set her cup down in her saucer and placed both on the table.

“He is busy. His father is teaching him all he can about running the estates and everything he’ll need to take care of when he takes over as Duke.”

“Is the current Duke in good health?” Jane asked.

“He is simply growing older. His eyesight and memory are not as good as they used to be, and I’ve heard him say he wants to pass things onto his son before he can no longer remember them.”

“Oh, how very sad,” Jane said, resting her hands on her swollen belly. She wasn’t due for another couple of months, but her tummy was still large enough that she could comfortably perch her hands upon it.

“I thought so too, but Ben says it is a fact of life. I think he is also scared and doesn’t want to admit anything worse is wrong. But… this is upsetting. I must ask, how is Mr. Epping’s new business?”

“Very fine indeed,” Jane said warmly.

Mr. Epping had been the head groom for her parents’ horses, and now, he ran his own private stable system and offered riding lessons for the elites’ children. The two of them had a place just outside Bath, in the country, surrounded by animals of all kinds. Jane had always adored them so.

Susan was about to ask another question, but at that moment, Haxby appeared in the doorway.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my lady, but you have a guest in the receiving room.”

“Family? Friend?” Susan asked.

“A prospective client, I believe. She insists on seeing you.”

Jane gave Susan a knowing look. The both of them rose and followed Haxby to the receiving room while a maid stayed in the drawing room to watch the children in case they woke up.

In the receiving room, a young woman, pale and freckled, with curly red hair that stuck out from behind her bonnet, paced back and forth. She stopped when Jane and Susan entered the room.

Upon seeing both of them, she curtsied rather clumsily and hurriedly.

“This is the Eros Agency, isn’t it? I was afraid I had the wrong address. Am I in the right place?”

Susan laughed warmly, and Jane smiled.

“Yes indeed. I am Lady Forbes, and this is my business partner, Mrs. Epping. How can we help you?”

The young woman’s worried expression melted into one of relief.

“Oh, I hope you can help me. The season is about to start soon, and I have such urgent business to discuss with you.”

“Come with us; we were just about to have tea. And you can tell us everything.”

And with that, it was back to business once more.

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Eight Months Later…

“This place is so beautiful, Amelia! Why did it take you so long to host the gardening society, my dear?”

Amelia turned from her vantage point on the elevated porch of her mother’s conservatory to Lady Clarice, who held her six-month-old son, Geoffrey, in her arms. As the auburn-haired bundle of delight met her gaze, he chortled delightfully and stretched out his thick, chubby hands toward her. Amelia’s heart constricted with warmth as she took her son from his grandmother and held him close to her bosom, inhaling his soft baby smell.

Glancing at her mother-in-law, Amelia smiled shyly before turning back to watch members of the gardening society walk around appraising and admiring the blooming flower beds spread across the ten thousand square feet garden. “Well, I’ve always thought the garden wasn’t ready enough. I kept postponing over and over again, but I think now is just the perfect time.”

“As far as you’re finally doing it. That’s all that matters, dear.”.

Amelia couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride under the older woman’s approving gaze. “Thank you, Lady Reeves, for your kind encouraging words.”

“No, thank you, Amelia,” Lady Clarice said fondly. “Thank you for coming into my son’s life and my family. You’ve been a great blessing, and I wish Geoffrey had been alive to meet you and his grandson.”

“Oh, Lady Reeves.” Amelia couldn’t help the smile that crept into her face. “I would have loved to meet him as well. But I’m sure he is above watching over us.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is. I’m beyond certain he is,” Lady Clarice said, dabbing at her misty eyes.

“Do not worry, Your Grace. I promise you will have enough grandchildren to fuss over in a short while.”

The Dowager Duchess chuckled and tickled her grandson’s cheeks, beaming as he chortled harder.

Several minutes later, as everyone proceeded to the dining room for lunch, Amelia noted Anne and Jace’s absence and turned to her mother-in-law. “Will Jace and Anne not be joining us for dinner?” She inquired.

“I don’t think so. They have been holed up together in the drawing room discussing a matter of great importance.”

Amelia couldn’t help but worry about them. Initially, she’d thought Jace would renounce his plans to join the army after their engagement, but that wasn’t the case. As she excused herself to go tend to her son in the nursery upstairs, she couldn’t help but pray and wish that the both of them found the same kind of blissful happiness she’d found with Sidney.

Walking into the nursery with her son held gently against her shoulders, Amelia’s heart fluttered delightfully as she saw her husband leaning against the wall. At the sight of her, he hurried close and planted a kiss on her temple before kissing their son.

“How are you, my darling?” Sidney asked with concern. “I hope the event is panning out as you hoped?”

“More than I expected it would,” she gushed happily. “Everyone is talking about the garden and how amazing it is. I have the strong intuition that I might win the best garden of the month.”

“And you wouldn’t be less deserving of it, Amelia darling. You deserve to win best garden for the whole year in my opinion. I cannot wait to see what you’d do with ours when it is finally complete.”

“Oh, sweetest heart. You know just how to flatter me shamelessly.” She preened, lowering her gaze.

“You’ve given me a beautiful life. And I’ll do it again and again just to see your beautiful smile.”

“Oh, how I love you, husband,” she whispered as a rush of emotions flooded her heart.

“I love you too, wife. And I’ll love you boundlessly till the end of time,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her softly on the lips.

Sidney’s arms around her waist steered them toward the cot, Amelia felt the most fulfilled and happy.

Being a wife had ushered so many wonderful things into her life, but being a mother had changed everything completely.

She couldn’t wait to grow and expand her family with the wonderful man beside her, and she eagerly anticipated more adventures to come.

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Two years later…

Nora watched her husband and six-year-old daughter from the doorway of their daughter’s room. Arthur was reading Lydia a story from a new book of children’s tales that had been released recently, his deep voice changing as he mimicked the speech of different characters and narrated the book.

Two years, and still she could not believe the good fortune that had led her here, to him.

Her relationship with her parents was much improved. They met every month if the roads were passable, alternating between the Beaumont estate, the Bedford London house, and the Bedford country home. She saw her sisters less frequently but still at least two or three times a year.

Her eldest sister would be welcoming her third child in a month or so, and Nora hoped to be able to attend the birth, as she had been unable to attend the previous two.

Scarlett had remained as Lydia’s nursemaid and governess, as well as her beloved Auntie Scarlett. To no one’s surprise, she had taken to learning with enthusiasm and now could speak as well as any lady of the ton and on far more topics of discussion, though she retained her forthright and fiery personality.

To everyone’s surprise, she had formed a connection with Arthur’s friend David. When his casual relationship with Annabelle Norburn faded into its inevitable end, Scarlett had become his confidant and the voice of reason he needed to recover his good spirits. From there, the relationship had deepened, and Nora thought, if she was reading the signs aright, there was a good possibility that they might need to hire a new governess in the near future.

Huxley had become the social pariah of the ton by the end of the Season, following their marriage. While Arthur was far too much a gentleman to reveal the details surrounding his decision, he had not hesitated to give his former friend the cut direct, and rumors had soon ran rampant about his scandalous past with various ladies and his rising gaming debts.

In the end, he retired from the social scene, and there were rumors that he had gone to the continent to escape the social stigma.

Aunt Evelyn remained in Bath, and they visited her at least once a year, much to Lydia’s delight.

Abigail had embraced her retirement from the social scene and the duties of the Bedford estate with enthusiasm, though she still gave Nora much-needed advice. She refused to go to the country home and remained in London, devoting herself to odd little projects, her reading, and the raising of her granddaughter.

Lydia herself had blossomed under the devoted attention of so many new family members. Abigail was her teacher in manners and deportment, as Nora was in reading and writing, and Scarlett was in other subjects, but her father was her favorite, and he doted on her, shamelessly indulgent of her whims. For all of that, she was a well-behaved child still, if sometimes given to an excess of energy that needed a long outing to reduce to acceptable levels.

She was also growing like a rosebush in mid-summer, and Nora had taken to requesting that all her new clothes have enough material in the hems to be let down at least twice before they were given or sold to secondhand shops.

To Nora’s relief, there had been no reappearance of the mysterious fever that had so frightened her those many long nights ago. The Bedford family physician had suggested that it had been some sort of sickness from a bit of bad food, which she might have encountered anywhere. It was as good a reason as any for the strange malady, and in the end, Nora was grateful it had been no worse.

Her hand drifted to her belly, remembering what the physician had told her earlier.

Arthur finished the story he was reading, then set the book aside and tucked Lydia under the covers with a smile. From her position in the doorway, Nora could see that Lydia was already asleep, or very close to it. Arthur stroked back the dark curls and pressed a final kiss to Lydia’s forehead, then joined her at the door.

“She enjoys the stories, I think.”

“She has always enjoyed stories.” She took Arthur’s hand. “Come with me.”

“Of course.” Arthur followed her to the room they often shared, blinking as she all but dragged him inside and shut the door firmly behind her. “Nora, love? Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing is wrong. It is only…” She paused. “You know I have been feeling poorly these last few mornings.”

“Yes. You promised you would speak to the physician about the matter to see if he could prescribe something for you.” Arthur had been concerned when he’d woken one morning to find her retching into a basin.

“I did speak to him, and he has suggested some remedies to settle my stomach. Only… he said I am not ill.”

“Not…” Arthur trailed off, eyes widening.

She smiled, resting her hand on her abdomen once again as a renewed sense of wonder filled her. “I am with child.”

“With…” Arthur breathed out the word. Moving closer so he could lay one large hand over hers. “How long?”

“The physician said barely two months, he believes.” She blushed. “I rather think it has something to do with that dancing lesson…”

“The waltz.” Arthur grinned wickedly. “That was a most informative lesson, indeed.” The expression faded into one of wonder. “A child… our child.”

“A new brother or sister for Lydia.”

“Yes…” The smile that emerged on Arthur’s face was brilliant as a sunrise. “A child.” He laughed then, exuberance flowing into his posture as he picked her up and spun the both of them around in uncontrolled joy. “A child. I cannot wait. To see you carrying the babe, to see them and welcome them to our family…” He spun them both in one final circle and set her on her feet. “Nora… you have no idea how happy I am to hear this, my love.”

“I have some idea.” She leaned up with a lazy smile of her own. “But perhaps you should show me.”

Arthur needed no second invitation, carrying her to bed. The lovemaking that followed was tender and gentle. Arthur fairly worshiped her body, and when they came together in a soft rhythm like waves on the shore, the brilliant smile still adorned his face.

Even as he faded into sleep in the afterglow of their lovemaking, still the smile remained. Nora watched him fondly for a moment before she nestled into his arms and allowed herself to surrender to the pull of sleep.

She was, and would forever be, grateful that she had come here, however it had happened.

Happier than she had ever imagined she could be, Nora Beaumont Russell drifted off to sleep in the arms of her loving husband, dreaming of the bright future to come.

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