by Abigail Agar
“Come, you must get over here so that we can get you into your gown now,” Isla said, ushering Beatrice up from before the vanity.
She squeezed herself into the dress that she’d had lovingly designed for the wedding day.
It has been important to Beatrice that she found something even grander than what she had worn to the ball just a month before.
What she had come up with was something dramatic.
An ivory shade of white, beaded and laced in every direction, Beatrice had been frightened that it was too much. She had wondered if she had created something overwrought, but Isla has assured her that it was perfect.
With the gown on and her hair finished, Beatrice looked in the mirror. What she saw was not what she had expected.
The woman who looked back at her was not Beatrice Cloud.
She was a duchess.
There was, suddenly, a knock at the door.
“Yes? Who is it?” Beatrice asked.
“My darling, it is me,” came the voice.
Beatrice and Isla exchanged expressions of shock.
“Lord Hawthorn?” Beatrice asked, needing confirmation.
“Yes. I am sorry for coming today when you did not expect it, but I need to see you at once,” he said.
“You cannot see me at once; we are going to be married very soon,” Beatrice said.
“I know that, but this is important,” he said.
She could not think what was so important that he would come to her in this way, making his presence known before even seeing her at the church where she had been expecting him.
“Please, do not be frustrated. Just let me in. I need to see you,” he said.
Beatrice could hardly believe it. What was he doing there? Why had Peter come?
He could not see her before the wedding. It was not done.
But, Beatrice reminded herself, she was not a suspicious woman. She would not believe that there was any sort of bad luck attached to seeing him before the ceremony. Even if she had been looking forward to walking down the aisle towards him and surprising him with her appearance, this was enough. It was enough to have this moment alone with him.
“All right. You may come in. But, first, you must close your eyes and you may not open them until I give you my approval,” Beatrice said.
She heard only a deliberating sigh on the other side of the door.
“Am I clear? Do we have an understanding?” she asked.
“Yes, we have an understanding. My eyes are closed,” Peter said.
“Very well. Please take a step back. Lady Seton is wishing to depart,” Beatrice said, just as Isla was trying to signal to her that she was going to leave them together for a moment.
“I have taken my step back,” he said.
“Well?” Isla asked.
“You may go if you are sure,” Beatrice said.
Isla rushed and stepped out of the door, allowing Peter to come in, his eyes still closed, tightly.
“All right, come just a little bit forward. Two steps is all it will take,” Beatrice instructed him.
Peter did as he was told, taking two steps forward.
“Yes, very well,” she said. “Now, I am entirely ready for our wedding. If you open your eyes, you shall ruin the whole surprise of seeing me. Are you prepared for that?” she asked.
“I am, indeed,” Peter replied.
“Very well then. You may look,” she said, hardly caring anymore.
With that, Peter opened his eyes. He opened them slowly, taking in the sight of her.
Beatrice stood before him, amazed at how handsome he looked. His blonde hair was brushed back from his face, revealing those stunning blue eyes of his.
He looked astonished. The way that he gazed at her was different from any way that he had ever looked at her before. Now, she knew, she looked her best. She looked her loveliest.
“My dear…” Peter whispered, the words sounding sweet upon his tongue.
“Are you satisfied with what you see?” Beatrice asked him.
“I could not be any more content,” he said.
“Really?” she asked, hopeful.
“Of course, my dear. You look amazing,” Peter said.
Beatrice blushed, grateful that he thought her to be beautiful in her wedding gown.
“Now, why have you come? You know that it is a strange thing to see me before the wedding,” Beatrice said.
“That may be so, but I could not wait,” Peter said.
Beatrice laughed and looked at him with bemusement.
“Is that it? Impatience?” she asked.
“Does that surprise you?” Peter asked.
“Perhaps, somewhat. Our wedding is but hours away,” Beatrice said.
“In truth, my dear, I could not abide the thought of seeing you for the first time in the presence of so many. Although we have a small number in attendance, I know that many of them are still vultures, eager to learn who this woman is that I have chosen,” he said.
“So you wanted to see one another alone first?” Beatrice asked.
“Precisely,” he said.
She smiled at him, warmed by his devotion to her.
“I am glad of it. You bring me so much joy and it is a relief to have a few moments alone with you before meeting you in the front of the church,” Beatrice confessed.
“Seeing you, my dear, is always a joy. And after we meet in the church, we shall be together always. No matter what,” he said.
They still had a full day to go through, but they were going to be married soon enough. They would finally be husband and wife and all of their hopes for the future were going to come together.
Beatrice wondered what the future would look like. Yes, they were going to be married, and yes, they were going to be happy. But as she smiled at Peter, she started to wonder about their children.
Would they have sons or daughters? How many? How soon? And what would they be like as parents?
She thought about how she would do as the mistress of his home. She had never been in charge of anything. Beatrice was accustomed only to taking orders. But now, for the first time, she would be contributing to the running of a household.
Yet, with Peter at her side, she could do anything. She would be strong and she would be ready.
Of all the wifely duties that were going to be expected of her, Beatrice was growing more and more confident that she would succeed in them. Not because of her own skill, but because of the encouragement that she received from this man who was going to be her husband in just a few short hours.
“Well, my dear, I ought to say farewell for now. The time is coming and we will be together again very soon,” Peter said.
“Yes, my love. We shall. And as you say, nothing is going to then keep us apart,” she replied.
The time had come. They had to leave.
It meant separating from one another, saying goodbye. It meant being apart for a short time again before uniting for the rest of their lives.
But Beatrice was ready now. She was ready, because she knew that all would be well.
Because now, they had their forever.
THE END
Can't get enough of Beatrice and Peter? Then make sure to check out the Extended Epilogue to find out…
Will Beatrice regret marrying Peter and how will she feel after eight years of marriage?
How will Beatrice choose the new governess and will she be satisfied with her choice?
Which two people will Beatrice try to bring closer and why?
Click the link or enter it into your browser
http://abigailagar.com/delilah
(After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters from “A Duke's Liberating Embrace”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)
A Duke's Liberating Embrace
Introduction
Lord Samuel Belston's life is ruined when he is accused of murdering his father, the Duke of Danwood with the aim to get his title and wealth. His only ho
pe is to stay hidden until he manages to clear his name and get to the bottom of the heinous crime. Undercover and looking for answers in an orchard, the last thing he expected was to find the most beautiful woman he has ever seen; a stunning woman, willing to help him with his marvelous plan. But is the restoration of his honour really all that awaits Samuel or will this just be the beginning of a love he could never have dreamt of?
Delilah DeWitt is a charming young Lady who never expected too much from life. All she ever wanted was a big family and a caring husband. In an unexpected twist of fate, she meets a handsome drifter searching for work and an opportunity to settle outside of London. But what if this charming commoner is hiding his true intentions? When she finds out who he really is, will she feel betrayed and drowned by his lies? Or will she trust her heart and defy everything?
As Samuel and Delilah try to unravel the truth, they end up discovering parts of themselves they had never explored before. Torn between lies, can they really overcome an enemy they can't even identify? Can their love survive the lies threatening to destroy it?
Chapter 1
“It was you! It had to be you!” Uncle Theodore shouted, spit flinging from his lips as Samuel backed away.
“You know that cannot be true. I loved my father, I would never hurt him,” Samuel insisted.
“You wished for the title. Now you believe that you will have it because he is dead. It could only have been you.” His uncle continued stepping forward, his dark eyes pouring into Samuel’s soul, as though there was nothing that could convince him otherwise.
“I would never do such a thing, Uncle Theodore. How dare you accuse me? My father was everything to me. He was my dearest friend, my greatest support. You and he were the only family that I had left. I would never hurt him,” Samuel said, insisting upon his innocence.
But Theodore Belston, brother to the late Duke of Danwood, was indignant. His black hair, normally greased back from his eyes, fell forward from the force of his charge towards Samuel.
“I didn’t do it!” Samuel shouted, rushing from the room.
His uncle followed him out into the hall.
“They found the knife, Samuel. It was in your room. Soon, everyone will know about you,” Theodore said.
“I would never hurt my father. Someone must be trying to set me up. My father was a good man and I respected him. I couldn’t hurt him. I don’t know who did it, but these last two days I have been overcome with grief. You have seen as much. How could you think that I would turn against him, murder him, like that?” Samuel asked.
“You wanted to be the new Duke of Danwood. You wanted your father’s vast wealth. Everyone knows it. You have probably been planning this for an age. And now, one of the maids discovered the bloodied knife underneath your pillow. We are not fools, Samuel. You will never inherit the title or the money,” his uncle said.
“I don’t care about those things. I never wanted them. I want only my father,” he said.
“Mrs. Bradshaw, send for the constable!” Uncle Theodore called to the housekeeper.
There was nothing for it. Samuel realised that he was done for. He had no choice. He would have to run.
As Samuel turned to go, he sensed his uncle following him. In that moment, his need to protect himself won out. Beside the door the coat-rack stood and Samuel flung it to the ground, hoping that it would slow his uncle down.
Before he gave it any chance at all, Samuel was out of the door and crossing the short distance to the stable where the groom was preparing to remove the saddle of a horse he had just ridden.
“Don’t remove it!” Samuel called, grasping the reins from the groom.
The man looked furious at him for snatching them like that but said nothing against the young man who was to be the master of the house very soon.
Samuel mounted in a flash and gave a sharp snap to the reins. With that, he was off.
He leaned low, driving the horse faster and faster, running down the road as quickly as he was able.
It was a good start. If the housekeeper was calling for the constable, it would be a while before they arrived and examined the knife that had been found before trying to find Samuel. Surely, he would be all right.
He only had to figure out what to do next.
Three days before, everything was normal. All was well and Samuel was a happy young man, enjoying his life and attending balls in the hope that he might find a wife. His father was helping him to grow a business in trade and the two had played a round of billiards as they so often did.
But, that night, something happened. As Samuel slept, there had been a menace who had come into the home and had taken his father’s very life.
The next morning, Samuel had woken to the scream of one of the maids, along with a crashing. A shrill, horrified series of screams that could only be made by someone who had seen something truly terrible.
Samuel had come rushing out of his room and heard that the screams were coming from his father’s room.
He entered and had seen him there, on the floor, in a pool of nearly dried, tacky blood. Beside the body, the silvery tray, pot of tea, and cup were all in an amber puddle from where the maid had dropped them. She was openly weeping, although the screams continued to escape her lips from the shock.
But Samuel had just stood there, not believing the sight before his eyes.
It was not possible that his father, who had been so alive just hours before, could be lost to the world. It was not possible that his father was gone.
The next few hours were a whirlwind and the shock did not fade. Samuel had not been able to process the emotions of what had taken place, so he simply stood still, not moving and not acting. He answered questions asked by the constable. He nodded and followed along as they told him what the next steps were in trying to apprehend the killer.
And then, once they had all left and the estate was quiet, save for the scream of a bloodstain on his father’s floor, Samuel broke.
He barely knew what the past two days had been like. Nothing made sense. Food had no taste and sometimes he did not even realise that the hour had come to eat until a maid, shaken and quiet, would enter a room and catch his eye and nod to him.
And then, that afternoon, his uncle had decided to accuse him of the murder of his own father. His uncle had made the decision that it was time to find the guilty culprit and he chose Samuel for the target.
The horse’s strong legs took Samuel to the estate of his dearest friend, Anthony Romano. The son of an Italian businessman, Anthony had often spent times with Samuel as they grew, while their fathers planned and plotted various strategies for making money for their families.
There was no one Samuel trusted so much as Anthony.
He dismounted in front of the door to Anthony’s estate and rushed to it, knocking in rapid succession until a confused maid opened.
“Anthony!” he called, a quiver in his voice. He had to find his friend.