The Stolen Diadem of a Castaway Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  “Ah, that’s wonderful news!” the older woman answered, clapping her hands. “Goodnight then, dear girl!”

  Peter and Callum rose when Beatrix stood to leave. She pressed a brief kiss to her mother’s cheek, smiling when the woman shivered in delight at the gesture. Callum stepped forward and offered her his arm.

  “If I may, Lady Beatrix, I will bring you so far as the main hall and will send for my servants.”

  Beatrix gritted her teeth as she attempted to smile politely. “Of course, Lord Bellton. That would be ideal.”

  Outside the dining room, Beatrix turned on him sharply. “Why are you here?”

  “Well, one tends to eat dinner in the dining room, so I thought perhaps this room would be best,” he answered innocently. “Besides, all of you were in there, and I would have been terribly lonely eating my dinner in the stable or somewhere, so I—”

  “Stop it, not the dining room! You know what I’m referring to,” Beatrix shot back. “Why are you at this house?”

  “You didn’t reply to my letters,” Callum said, sounding genuinely wounded.

  “And you thought that was not an indication of some deeper meaning about the grievous pain you’d caused me?” she retorted, wide-eyed. “You somehow mistook my silence for an invitation to hunt me down at my mother’s home?”

  They walked along silently while Callum thought of how to speak next. Finally, he decided that his only hope was to speak to the matter directly.

  “Lady Beatrix, I am terribly sorry for my past behavior. There are things that I have not divulged. But my love for you has not changed at all. I hope that you still care for me as you once did as well.”

  “Lord Bellton,” she began, addressing him formally, “your affection for me has only returned because as it turns out, I am not a ‘nobody’ after all. Should the truth about the Earl of Weavington’s plot against his sister not have come to light, nothing would have changed. Your father would still have succeeded in hardening your heart against me, and you willingly complied due to the whim of what is considered acceptable.”

  “I like to think I would have come around eventually?” he said, risking a smile at his attempt at humor.

  Beatrix was not to be so easily won over. “Only a matter of weeks ago, you were willing to throw away your entire fortune and your title for the pretender Lady Beatrix. Prove it.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he asked, stunned.

  “Prove it. According to my mother, I now stand to receive a small annual sum and a rather pleasant dowry, therefore you have no need of your vast estate. Throw away your title for me. Prove that you care not for your fancy riches and your ‘lord this’ or ‘lord that.’”

  Callum was silent in light of Beatrix’s explanation. She knew his silence to be admission.

  “I see,” she said with a grim smile. “That was a test, Callum, and I fear you did not pass. Just as you decided you did not wish to marry a commoner after all, I have decided that I have quite no use for a very fickle Marquess. Goodnight.”

  Epilogue

  “Birdie! Greta! It is so wonderful to see you again!” Beatrix cried when she opened the door to their knocking. “Come inside!”

  She hugged both girls quickly, long enough to cause each of them to feel somewhat embarrassed at being treated like old friends instead of maids come to serve a lady.

  “Gaw, but ‘tis such a strange thing!” Birdie said, looking around the spacious chambers. “To think that you was highborn all this time, and not a one of us knew it!”

  “Just goes to show, Birdie, you never know who a person might be so you should always be nice,” Greta added wisely.

  Beatrix only laughed. “Oh girls, you must stop. I’m still only Beatrix! This is all so new to me that it feels like I shall never catch my breath for thinking about it too long.”

  The maids helped Beatrix brush out her hair, change her clothes, and ready herself for the evening’s rest, but she was much too excited to send them along when they’d finished. She spoke to them for some time about how they came to be at Saltwood, what had transpired after she’d left Bellton, and more.

  “You know, My Lady, they say that Lord Bellton was pinin’ for ya after ya left,” Birdie said shyly. Greta nudged her sharply to remind her to whom they were speaking. “What? Lady Beatrix knows his lordship was taken with her!”

  “Still, Birdie, ya don’t go sayin’ it! It’s not fittin’, ‘specially if you hope to be a lady’s maid someday. Ya can’t go bein’ too familiar with the ladies of the house!” Greta tried to look stern as she whispered.

  “I do think Greta might be right, not that I would know very much about these things, but never you fear, Birdie,” Beatrix said kindly. “You can say anything to me, it’s all right. But on the subject of Lord Bellton, that is a closed subject, I’m afraid. I have no concern whatsoever for his ‘pining.’”

  “But he were in a terrible state!” the maid cried. “He would naw eat a bite and his strength was nearly gone. He near went mad with thinkin’ he lost ya for good!”

  “Well, that’s just as well. Not that I’m sure he ever had me to begin with, he has most definitely lost me for good now,” Beatrix explained patiently.

  Birdie and Greta exchanged horrified looks. This wasn’t what they’d hoped to hear when they were informed their services might be needed for Lady Beatrix.

  “Don’t you worry none, I won’t be sayin’ nothin’ more about it, My Lady,” Birdie assured her tearfully. “I’m sorry I spoke up, it weren’t my place.”

  “That’s all right, Birdie. I know you meant well.” Beatrix smiled at the maids and bid them goodnight, the pang in her heart resounding when she saw how sad she’d made them.

  Alone in her room, Beatrix fought to fall asleep. Her mind flipped between elation at how meeting her mother had gone to trepidation at Lord Bellton’s presence. To learn that he’d taken sick with the loss only compounded the need to stay away from him. It would be an endless battle to remain aloof, to keep him at arm’s length with an air of disdain, when she wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and be carried away.

  Sadly, she could not. What would she do when the wind changed and his thoughts drifted towards discontent again? She dared not expose her heart to that sort of torment again for fear that she would not recover next time. Worse, she now had her mother’s reputation to think of.

  It was a risk too great.

  “Ah, Beatrix!” Lady Miriam said brightly the following morning. “You’re up very early!”

  “I suppose I’m used to the early hour,” she replied, sitting down across from Lady Miriam and gratefully accepting a cup of hot tea. “I had a fair number of chores to complete each morning. And some of the animals we kept could be quite vocal about complaining if they were not fed on time!”

  “I want to hear all about your animals!” Lady Miriam said, laughing merrily, but then she stopped. “But I feel as though I spent all of yesterday interviewing you. What would you like to talk about?”

  Beatrix was thoughtful a moment, then said, “What of my father? Peter had said it might not be a pleasant subject, so only tell me what you wish.”

  “You are ever so thoughtful,” her mother said with an adoring smile, “but there is not very much to tell. He came from a family that was well-titled and well-respected, though lacking in any noticeable fortune. His only attraction to me, of course, was the money my parents had put up for me.

  “Sadly, he had wished to marry another young lady but her family fortunes were spread thinly over a great many children, including several sons who had to inherit. My husband’s parents refused to let him marry her, and demanded that he marry me instead.

  “As such, he was very unkind to me. The best times in my marriage were the weeks or even months when he would be away. He made no attempt to conceal his many indiscretions, and as such, I became too much of a recluse in an effort to avoid gossip. When he died, I don’t think I felt relief, but I certainly did not feel any
remorse.”

  Lady Miriam was silent as she stared out the window, lost in thought. Beatrix waited patiently for the woman to say more, but it was several moments before she composed herself.

  “You were the only wonderful thing to come from my marriage,” her mother added, beaming. “And when you were gone, I had no reason to continue living. I simply didn’t have the proper determination to die, I suppose!”

  “Well, I’m very glad that you remained among the living,” Beatrix answered happily. “It has been a dream of mine to have a mother, and I find that I could never have asked for a kinder, more loving one than you.”

  Lady Miriam reached out and took Beatrix’s hand, holding it tightly for a moment before brightening considerably.

  “But enough of this melancholy talk! I propose an outing,” her mother announced firmly. “We shall ride down to the brook and watch the ducklings scramble for pieces of bread that we toss!”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Beatrix answered, but her consternation only grew when her mother had another suggestion.

  “Perhaps Peter and his friend would like to join us? I shall send someone to ask as soon as they’re available.”

  Beatrix seethed, but knew it would be impolite to put a damper on Lady Miriam’s fun. Somehow, the woman sensed her reluctance.

  “What is the matter? Do you not find your cousin agreeable?” she asked, but Beatrix shook her head.

  “Oh no, Peter has been most helpful throughout this strange turn of events. I rather like him very much,” she replied, avoiding her mother’s question.

  “I see. Then it is Lord Bellton who is not your favorite. Hmm, I now recall he said something about having met you before. Tell me, was he not a gentleman?”

  Beatrix hesitated, uncertain as to what she should divulge. She knew that any discussion of her being kidnapped as a thief would be improper, as would any talk of her remaining at Bellton unchaperoned.

  “Oh no, it’s nothing like that!” she insisted. “I just find him rather arrogant. I will divulge,” Beatrix looked around to ensure that no one could hear them, “that he made some lovely declarations that turned out to be nothing more than a whim.”

  “I see,” said Lady Miriam, obviously displeased with the man. “But you were not put out?”

  “His later rebuff stung, I will admit, but I was fortunate to discover very quickly that his intentions can change with the hour of day!” Beatrix smiled and hoped to change the subject, but it was not to be.

  “My daughter, the worst thing about losing you was all the hopes that were dashed,” Lady Miriam said quietly, looking down at her hands and clenching them tightly. “While I carried you, I had such dreams! What would it matter that my husband was a terrible person when I would have a child to pass the days with? I would take my child on walks by the water and show them every flower, every tree. I was going to teach my child to ride and to love it as much as I do. I had so much wonder about the world that I wanted to share with you, and I was never given the chance.”

  Beatrix’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she said adoringly, “Perhaps the universe then knew how much you’d longed for that. My entire education—the good kind, not the kind spent in classrooms and at lessons—was in herbs and flowers, horses and beekeeping.”

  “Beekeeping? You cannot be serious,” her mother said, grinning excitedly. “That is a particular hobby of mine!”

  “No! That cannot be true, the coincidence is too great!” Beatrix laughed happily. “You see? Whatever fates kept us apart still contrived to weave us together in some small way!”

  Lady Miriam’s joyful expression slowly faded until she looked serious once again. “But one way that I had hoped—whether my child was a boy or girl—to change my own circumstances was to impart such wisdom for their happiness that it would do them in good stead. What I mean to say to you, daughter, is that you must not harden your heart against real love.”

  The clock on the mantel chimed delicately while Beatrix waited for an explanation, but Lady Miriam took her time to speak again. When she did, all trace of sorrow was gone from her tone, replaced by a firm sense of hopefulness.

  “I have it on good authority that Lord Bellton is miserable.” When Beatrix merely shrugged, her mother said, “Do not be so cavalier about that announcement! I also have it on good authority that you were very taken with him yourself.”

  “It was only a passing fancy, nothing more,” she said softly, avoiding her mother’s gaze.

  “My dear girl, a woman who lives alone for more than twenty years with only her few servants and the occasional visitor for company has nothing else in life except news from the ton, even if that news is gossip.” Lady Miriam gave her a conspiratorial smile, and Beatrix could not help but laugh.

  “Then if you are so thusly informed, you should take my side,” Beatrix explained. “Yes, Lord Bellton did make a number of statements that I mistook for heartfelt sentiments. And yes… I’m ashamed to say I believed him and felt the same.”

  “Then what is the matter?” her mother asked. “The man rose up from his deathbed to embark on a day’s ride to find you. Are those the actions of a man who is not steadfast in his love for you?”

  Beatrix shook her head, the unshed tears she held for so long beginning to course. She took the handkerchief that Lady Miriam proffered, but wrung it grievously in her hands as she cried.

  “It was terrible, Mother,” she finally confessed. “I was terrible! I could have easily borrowed one of the horses and ridden out to save my father, but I stayed at Bellton for him. I told myself all sorts of lies! It was because Lord Bellton was injured and there was no one to tend to him, or because I did not know where they’d taken Father, or because I had no horse to carry me! It was all lies that I told myself to excuse the fact that I chose Lord Bellton over all others.”

  “Is that so wrong, my dear?” Lady Miriam asked sweetly. “A man who confesses his love for you and asks for your hand… and you had the audacity to return his affection? I should think that is quite acceptable!”

  “Only it was for nothing,” Beatrix whispered. “It took one word from his father, a mere matter of five minutes’ time, to sway his affection and turn his heart against me. And now he arrives here at what is supposed to be a happy occasion of meeting you, a moment I’ve longed for my entire life, and I’m supposed to just say, ‘Oh, all is forgiven!’ I cannot do it!”

  Lady Miriam held out her arms to Beatrix, who stood and came to sit beside her. The woman held her close before soothing her tears, finally whispering, “This is something else I’d planned on all those years, rocking my child as she cried over some hurt or another!”

  Beatrix laughed at that, wiping at her tears and looking up in awe of this woman who’d so readily taken her into her home and her heart.

  “But my dear girl, I have to tell you something of great importance. Remember the source… I have had nothing all this time but tidbits of news brought to my doorstep, and I’ve collected every word. I confess, it was like watching a drama unfold on the stage for my entertainment.”

  “What is it?” Beatrix asked, still holding back her sobs.

  “Lord Bellton’s father did not speak to him of rejecting you,” she said gently, brushing back a lock of Beatrix’s hair. “He chastised his son vehemently for thinking of marriage when the time for mourning his mother had not passed. The Duke was very displeased to learn that the rumors of his affection for you were true, not because of your station but because of the impropriety of the timing.”

  Beatrix’s cheeks burned with a sudden sense of shame. She had been horrible to Callum, while mistaken in her reasoning! She looked to Lady Miriam in anguish.

  “What must I do to make amends?” she asked. “How do I repair the hurt I intentionally inflicted?”

  “You must go and make your apologies, dear,” the older woman said tenderly. “If he is receptive, then you will have made amends. If he is not, well… then you will also know perhaps what sort of husb
and he would have been, how he would have treated you whenever you were in the wrong.”

  Before Beatrix could thank her for such wise counsel, Peter entered and kissed his aunt warmly on the cheek.

  “Good morning, all. I see you’ve allowed me to use my very worst manners and make you wait on your breakfast,” he said, laughing at his joke.

  “Peter, dear. Where is Lord Bellton this morning?” Lady Miriam asked gravely. Her nephew’s cheerful expression turned stony.

  “I’m afraid he must be away this morning, some urgent business to attend to, I believe it was,” he replied, though he turned to Beatrix and cocked an eyebrow in her direction. After a quick jerk of his head, he turned back to his aunt to compliment her on the scones.