“Are you quite sure, Elliot?” Isabella had said when Elliot told her that he had accepted the invitation.
“I would be a fool not to go out into the world, would I not? When a man has a beautiful wife and daughter who love him and look upon him without fear or disgust, then he has everything in the world that he needs. Believe me; once a man has that, he can do anything.”
His happy smile and bold assertion had reduced Isabella to tears of pride and happiness on the spot, and Elliot had teased her greatly for it for days afterward. But he had teased her kindly, knowing how much his wife had wanted him to have the life which seemed to have been stolen from him all those years ago. He knew what it meant to her.
“Yes, I should like another cup of tea, Esme.” As Esme poured the tea, Isabella was drawn back into the present moment.
“Are Catherine and Kitty still outside?” Isabella said vaguely. “I do hope our child is not wearing Kitty out.”
“I do not think there is much chance of that, my dear,” Elliot said and laughed as he looked over his shoulder and out of the large French windows onto the terrace beneath. “If anything, I think Kitty would be loath to give up her new responsibilities.”
“I should say so.” Isabella laughed.
“I do not know how that dear woman manages to be your personal maid, Isabella, and nurse your child.” Esme shook her head in admiration.
“It is determination, Esme. It is determination to be a great part of Catherine’s life, and the child was born just minutes before Kitty had offered herself up as the role of nurse. How on earth could I have refused her?”
“And she is a very good nurse, is she not?”
“She truly can turn her hand to anything. The fact that she loves Catherine dearly helps.”
“And her duties as lady’s maid?”
“As you know, I can already look after myself very well indeed.” Isabella laughed. “And the larger part of Kitty’s duties have always been more as counsellor and companion to me than as a lady’s maid. It is very fluid.”
“I just hope that Kitty will accept help when the second one is born,” Elliot said, and Isabella drew in her breath sharply.
“Second one?” Esme said sitting suddenly bolt upright. “Is there something you ought to tell me, Isabella?” Esme’s eyes were already bright and shining; she knew the answer to her own question.
“I had hoped to tell you myself,” she said casting a mock annoyed glance at her husband who, for his part, looked suitably chagrined.
“I really am terribly sorry; it just slipped out.” He shrugged.
“It slipped out because you are just so excited, my dear, are you not?” Isabella laughed and reached for his hand.
“I am excited, it is true. And this is not the first time that I have forgotten myself, I am afraid.”
“Let me hazard a guess and say that you have already told Crawford.” Isabella was still laughing.
“It just happened, my dear.” He shrugged again only with more gusto this time. “And then, of course, I had to hurriedly let him know that he and his lovely new wife were not expected to be godparents to our second child also. I told him that he could relax safe in the knowledge that Esme and Rupert would be…” He winced. “Sorry.”
“Esme, forgive me. If I had realized that my husband would turn from hermit to social butterfly in a heartbeat, I would have come here today without him. Truly, I had wanted to ask you for myself.”
“My dear, are you asking me to be godmother to your new child?” Esme was already dabbing at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief.
“Yes, just that. I should like you and Rupert to be our new child’s godparents when he or she comes into the world. As long as both you and Rupert are agreeable, that is.”
“We shall be married by then, my dear, and Rupert will be agreeable whether he is agreeable or not.”
“Dear me, poor old Rupert,” Elliot said and gave Esme a teasing smile. “It is probably best that he does not yet know all that is to come to him.”
“Quite so, quite so.” Esme nodded slowly and smiled. “After all, I do not want him to run away to Liverpool and take a boat to Ireland before I have even had a chance to marry him.”
All three of them laughed at the humorous allusion to Isabella’s daring attempt at escape in the weeks before she had been due to marry Elliot.
“I am teasing you, of course. Dear old Rupert is a very lucky man, and I should never hear it said otherwise,” Elliot said seriously. “And he is due to have a most interesting and fulfilling married life, of that I am certain.”
“Between your kindness and the knowledge that I am to be a godmother, I am sure that I shall spend the rest of this day in happy tears. Now then, you really must stop it before I wash myself away.”
As Esme and Elliot continued to chatter happily, Isabella stared out through the French windows to where Kitty was desperately trying to keep up with the faltering but surprisingly speedy steps of baby Catherine.
She smiled and blinked back a few happy tears of her own. Everything that Isabella had ever wanted in the world was there before her at that moment. She had a loving husband who was kind, amusing, intelligent, and very handsome. She had a beautiful child and another on the way. And to add to it all, Isabella had the promise of her oldest friend at her side for the rest of her life.
And with Kitty as the mother figure she had never truly known, Isabella knew that her life was complete. Of course, ups and downs would come as they surely did to everybody, but the foundations of her world were the strongest that she could ever have imagined, and for that she was truly grateful.
THE END
Can't get enough of Isabella and Elliot? Then make sure to check out the Extended Epilogue to find out…
Will Isabella and Elliot expand their family with kids?
Will Elliot ever feel comfortable to go out to society?
What happens to Isabella's vile brother? Is justice in order?
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A Courtship to Remember
Introduction
Elizabeth Ramsbury is only interested in pursuing her independence and her musical talent. Unfortunately, the entrapment of matrimony looms over her head like a bad omen. After her father forces her hand, she sees no other choice but to take the only honourable route and find a suitable match to marry. A fortuitous meeting at a ball leads her to make an elaborate plan with the Baron to convince everyone that they are courting. What happens when their scheme paves the way for true feelings to start blossoming? Will Elizabeth realize that she can find the love and passion music has given her in a different place too?
Lord Cavendish, Baron of Bedford has been rejected by his only true love. Dejected and heartbroken, he mourns the loss pitifully. He believes that he can only be whole again when he wins her back. His prayers are answered when a beautiful woman he meets by chance gives him the perfect opportunity to make his lost love crawl back to him. But he soon finds himself unwittingly enchanted by her grace, beauty and pleasant company. What if what he’s looking for is right in front of him?
It may have been pure chance when they met for the first time, but is it fate that will bring them together? Sometimes love can be found when you least expect it, even in the best-laid plans! Will they both realise that their goals, as well as their hearts are perfectly aligned?
Chapter 1
Elizabeth's hands glided over the instrument, her fingers feeling each key as though it were a further extension of her body. There wasn't a pianoforte in all of England that was so lovingly caressed as this one, so doted upon by its mistress. Her closed eyes blocked out irrelevant stimuli, allowing her other senses to fully appreciate the beautiful melody that seemed to enter her body and touch her soul in a way that was both magical and familiar. This particular piece was one
she had written herself, a melody she had birthed out of the depths of her being.
This is how music should be, she thought to herself. An all-consuming experience that makes all else seem dull and lifeless.
Elizabeth's life revolved around music – performing on her mother's pianoforte, finding music sheets that promised an explosion of sound when translated, and even the practise of copying sheet music into the many notebooks that she favoured above any silly woman's instruction manual on finding a suitable husband.
Cecilia, her younger sister, had a vast collection of books centred upon a woman's appearance, social etiquette, wifely skills such as being a successful hostess, and literature that seemed to force women into a monotony of thought, speech and fashion. If only she would allow herself the opportunity to experience the beauty of music, then she would not concern herself over such superficial activities.
Two years separated the sisters, but there could not be a more different pair. Elizabeth could not bear the frivolity of her younger sister's activities, preferring to confine herself to the parlour where her beloved instrument was housed. She began to hum the melody, her mouth opening to effortlessly form the words that matched the rise and fall of her nimble fingers.
“La la laaaa, do do do, la la laaaa, do do do...”
She fell into a hum once more, the sound sending vibrations throughout her body. If only the world could appreciate music, I believe there would be less evil. It caused her great sorrow to hear the plight of the poor, their quality of life, and the powerful few who, although possessing the resources to help them, neither wished or chose to do so. There had even been word of human slaves from deepest Africa being treated like animals by people who should know better but chose to entertain the darkness in their hearts. Perhaps if I could compose a piece of music that is so profound and moving, I could influence those with an ear for music.
Elizabeth understood the power of music. She knew how it could affect a person's mood and actions. Play a light melody, then you are likely to raise the spirits of your listeners, or play a mournful melody, and the atmosphere of the room would change. I may be an optimist, a dreamer even. But I cannot help but think that music could change the world. Perhaps this is what my God-given purpose is, to influence those in a position to change the world. Or perhaps it is just to bring joy to those who hear me play.
Whatever her purpose may be, Elizabeth did not take her music capabilities for granted. Her skill on the pianoforte had been noticed from an early age by her mother, and it was her mother who had encouraged her to pursue her talent by spending hours at the instrument, diligently practising until the notes simply flowed. Not that Elizabeth had minded, for she had taken to the pianoforte as a baby did to a nursing bottle. She had gone from a daughter raised for marriage to a daughter who shared her mother's love of music.
Mama has not spoken of a possible marriage for me, which is just as well as I do not think that I could be married to a man who would stifle my creativity and skill. I shall not become a wife and sacrifice the one thing in this world that brings me pure pleasure.
Her father may be of a different opinion altogether. I have the strongest foreboding that he may bring up the subject of marriage soon. I am to be twenty in a few mere months, an age when most women are either accepting the shackles of matrimony or having their first child. I pray that Cecilia does not become betrothed to Percival too soon.
Elizabeth immediately felt ashamed for her thoughts. Her sister was indeed in love with her young beau, betrothment would be a natural progression of their courtship. Could she really wish for a delay to suit her own purposes? She sighed. No, far be it for her to withhold her sister's happiness with a heartfelt prayer to the heavens.
I may be obsessing over an event that may not take place in the near future.
Elizabeth noted that her mood had certainly dipped. As the piece of music came to an end, she went into a more jovial piece, one she had learnt from the copied music sheets of her dear friend Emma Thompson. Poor Emma was hopeless with the pianoforte, but proficient with the harp. The crux of the matter was that her father insisted that she dedicate her time to the pianoforte, which was fast becoming a firm favourite in the homes of the gentry. His sudden need for his daughter to play the instrument was likely due to the Dowager Viscountess de Bourgh recently stating that a young woman who was accomplished at playing the pianoforte would make a suitable bride for her nephew, the Duke of Carlisle. It was a statement Elizabeth had found rather silly, as there was much more to being a wife than playing a pianoforte. It was also contradictory as the wife would no longer be able to spend her time playing the instrument. While music was looked upon as a skill for a young woman looking to enter the marriage market, once married, it was considered socially unacceptable. Any musical skills would need to be replaced with wifely skills, which seemed like a complete waste of talent to Elizabeth.
Better not to marry and be independent than forsake my music!
A sudden movement to her right attracted her attention, but her hands continued to play, so accustomed were they to each key placement. Her mother entered the room and took a seat next to her. Despite her lack of time to play herself, her mother had always enjoyed sitting beside her eldest daughter when she could. She kept her eyes closed, as she allowed the music to wash over her. A little peek to the side told Elizabeth that her mother's eyes were indeed closed, a smile playing about her lips, her fingers moving upon her lap as if playing along. The music ended, earning applause from her mother.
“Simply beautiful, Elizabeth. I could not fault it at any point.”
“Thank you, Mama. I have learned from the best possible teacher in the whole of England, perhaps even the world.”
“Oh hush,” her mother protested, softly nudging her with her shoulder.
Despite the protest, Elizabeth could see that her mother was secretly pleased. She took her mother's hands, bringing them to rest on the keys.
"It is true, Mama. These hands have moulded and shaped my skills better than any music teacher could have. I am thankful to have had a mother whose love for music gave me the opportunity to express my thoughts and emotions in such a magical manner."
Her mother's hands lightly caressed the keys before she folded them in her lap with a sigh. There was a longing in her eyes as she stared at the instrument, perhaps remembering her days when every waking hour was spent honing her skills, a joyous time for her.
“My time has passed, but you can continue the dream for the both of us. You play beautifully, Elizabeth. Hearing you brings me much joy, more than you can ever imagine. What was it that you were playing before I came in? I recognised this playful tune, but the other I did not.”
“Oh, that is something I created myself. It is the first time I have played it in its entirety, but I am pleased with it.”
Her mother's eyes widened slightly. “You composed it?”
“Yes, Mama. It has been my dream to compose my own music according to what bubbles out of me. It is different to what I am used to. But it is my own.”
“That is wonderful, Elizabeth. I had no notion you had this gift within you. Yes, you play beautifully, but to compose is another thing altogether. It takes true commitment and passion for that.”
Elizabeth beamed with happiness. To hear her mother confirm her abilities are a gift was wonderful indeed. Her mother had been a gifted pianist. Not just accomplished but gifted. To walk in her footsteps was a privilege.
“I am glad that you think so, as I have worked increasingly hard to perfect my skills. While I do not consider myself a great composer, I still have a dream to be considered the world's greatest composer to have ever lived.”
Her mother jumped up and paced the room. Whenever her mother got like this, Elizabeth knew that ideas were forming in her mind.
“How fortuitous. I could have never dreamed that my own daughter would carry the same dreams that I had.” She stopped and looked at Elizabeth. “Yes, I was filled with joy wh
en you took to the pianoforte with ease and eagerness, but I could never have thought that you would aspire to be a composer. Could it be that my own daughter will become what I could not?”
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 28