“I have a surprise for you. Two, in fact.”
Her eyes grew large. “Good surprises, I hope.”
He nodded. “Indeed. I know you have been worried about being alone, and so far from home when we return to Gloucester. So, I have a plan to help you adjust.”
She frowned, wondering what he might have up his sleeves.
His smile broadened. “As you know, I have been in dire need of an Estate Steward.”
He grimaced. His former steward had passed away some previous months, and while Lysander had done all he could to attended to the lands on his own, it was too much for him. He’d made amends with his tenants, given reprieves, and even free rent to some of the farmers who had been hurt by Harry’s decisions. There was much good will toward this newly engaged Duke. However, he needed help. Someone trusted who could attend to the matters of the estate while he was away. Thus far, he’d found nobody trustworthy. Evidently, this had changed.
“I have someone in mind. A rather grouchy, older gentleman, with a bit of a peculiar way of speaking.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“George? You want to take George with us?”
He nodded, smiling. “If he is willing. I mentioned it to him, and your Father has already agreed to let him go. Begrudgingly, but he agreed. What do you think?”
She flung her arms around Lysander. The thought of having George there with her, in this new, unknown part of the country, so far from everything she knew, lifted all the worry from her shoulders.
“Yes, yes, I say yes. I would love it if George came.” Then she pursed her lips. “But what is the second surprise?”
He smiled again and raised on finger. “Wait here one moment,” he disappeared and rushed inside the building. She realized that they had stopped right outside the servant’s entrance. An odd place to end up.
Lysander returned a moment later and to her delight, carried a kitten in each of his hands. One orange and white, the other black and white.
“I thought perhaps Rudy and Isabelle might come with us. Since Cynthia could not take them to the Asylum with her, I figured why not keep them in the family? I mentioned the idea to Mother, and she seemed rather fond of the thought as well.”
Seraphina clasped her hands in front of her mouth. “I would love it! Yes!” She took the black-and-white kitten from his arm and cradled her. The kittens had grown into nearly full-sized cats now, but both enjoyed being held. She had made sure to visit them almost daily in the servant’s area where they liked to sleep and play.
“Mobsley will be so happy for the company. And me, of course.”
She glanced up at Lysander who was petting the other kitten. Their eyes met and he looked at her with so much love her heart almost melted.
“Seeing you happy is all I need to feel content in life. I cannot wait to start our new life together, Sera. I love you.”
He stepped toward her, wrapping his free arm around her, and drawing her close.
She huddled against him and looked into his beautiful, deep eyes.
“And I you, love of my life.”
She closed her eyes and their lips met. Despite the cold, his kiss filled her with warmth and the knowledge that this would indeed be the beginning of a beautiful life.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
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Preview: An Unexpected Bride for the Betrayed Duke
Chapter 1
Vivien Crawford raised the skirt of the lilac silk into the light and turned a critical eye to the neat row of stitches she used to repair the torn material of Lady Isadora’s gown, daughter to the Earl of Dewdale and Vivien’s own mistress. With a satisfied nod, Vivien returned the gown, which was one of Lady Isadora’s favorites, to the wardrobe.
Across the room, Lady Isadora raised her head from the letter she was reading. She received three that morning, and the other two remained unopened on her desk. In the sunlight, Lady Isadora’s golden hair was so bright it appeared to be surrounded by a halo. She was a lovely Lady, all brightness and light, and quite the opposite of Vivien, whose sleek hair and eyes were both dark.
“There is nothing to do in London when it isn’t the Season,” Lady Isadora said, letting out a long sigh.
“Nothing, My Lady? I’m quite sure Her Ladyship would be willing to find something to occupy your attention.”
Lady Isadora groaned. “I can scarcely imagine what pleasure my mother derives from those old, dusty volumes.”
The Countess of Dewdale’s newest passion was in collecting and translating medieval manuscripts, something she was remarkably talented doing, and something which Lady Isadora had been treated to several long, rambling treatises on. Vivien felt a pang of sympathy for Lady Isadora’s boredom.
Lady Isadora was a proper, society Lady, who detested being anything save the center of attention, and like a beautiful flower, she wilted during the fall and winter months when there were simply not enough social activities to fulfil her desire for being noticed.
“And don’t you dare mention that I am bored to Her Ladyship,” Lady Isadora said. “She’d likely take the opportunity to have us accompany her to a monastery in Cornwall or something outlandish. Just because I’m bored in London does not mean I’d like to spend the bulk of autumn on some dreary, damp beach.”
Lady Isadora wrinkled her nose and patted her elegant curls, as if imagining them already thrown into disarray by the sea spray and foul weather.
“I would never do that,” Vivien said, folding her hands in her lap. “You know that.”
Lady Isadora nodded and glanced at her letter again. “Will you pen a response to Lord Reginald?” she asked. “He tires me, but I dare not send him the harsh words he doubtlessly deserves.”
Lord Reginald, the son of the Earl of Trentworth, was Lady Isadora’s most persistent suitor and the one she found the most disagreeable. The match would be quite good, but Lady Isadora was one of the rare young ladies who wanted—very desperately—to marry a man who truly loved her. This was something she had confessed to Vivien only late into the night when there was no one about to hear.
And Vivien, who never had a suitor, acutely understood the Lady’s ardent desire for romance. Vivien quite hoped Lady Isadora found it, too. But Vivien had resigned herself to never wed, reasoning that it was enough to have a family who treated her well.
Is that the sort of life my parents would have desired for me?
Almost without realizing it, Vivien’s hand went to the gold pendant that always hung around her neck, beneath her gown. It was small, with her initials carved into it and a tiny, twinkling sapphire, the only clue and reminder she had of her long-lost parents.
“And besides,” Lady Isadora continued, drawing Vivien’s attention back to Lord Reginald’s letter, “You’ve a much subtler manner of writing. I daresay you could insult the King, and he’d read your letter and emerge with the profound feeling that you had the utmost affection for him.”
Vivien laughed. “I value your praise, although it is far too great.”
Lady Isadora’s coral lips curled into a sly smile. “Nonsense.”
Vivien took the letter from the Lady’s hand and quickly read through it. It was the usual fare for Lord Reginald—polished declarations of love, an inquiry about when Lady Isadora might see him next, and a long missive about everything he was doing to improve the conditions of his aging father’s country estate.
Although he was a cheerful Lord and unfalteringly polite, Vivien had developed the opinion that Lord Reginald’s interest was only in money, which admittedly might make one a dull husband.
“Do you want to see him?” Vivien asked.
Lady Isadora sliced open the seal on delicate, cream-colored stationery with a gilded letter opener. She pressed the metal against her pursed lips, thinking. “Only if you cannot find a graceful way of delaying the occasion.”
Vivien nodded, and taking a piece of paper and quill, began to write a response which would neither offend the lord nor force Lady Isadora into any obligation which she’d no eagerness to fulfill.
Dear Lord Reginald,
Although quite delighted to receive your letter and your friendship, I must confess that I’ve presently no time to make solicitous visits, as I have numerous obligations which demand my attention.
There were no obligations aside from the usual, but Lord Reginald need not know that. Vivien paused, considering whether she ought to concoct a few obligations which might keep Lady Isadora from visiting anyone. Admittedly, that was lying, but if there was one thing that Vivien had learned about lords and ladies, it was that sometimes lies were necessary for keeping everyone’s dignity intact.
“This one is from an orphanage in London,” Lady Isadora said. “Thanking me for my generosity. I do not recall sending any orphanage a gift, though. Do you?”
“Yes,” Vivien replied. “You sent them a sum of money during the Season, or rather I did. Do you recall? It was when you told me to elect five charities and allot them money on your behalf.”
“Oh, yes. That,” Lady Isadora replied. “You can answer that letter, too. Acknowledge them on my behalf. I won’t have orphans in London saying that I have no time for them.”
“Of course not.”
But first, Vivien still had to answer Lord Reginald. This was not the first time Vivien had been tasked with excusing Lady Isadora from meeting with a less than desirable suitor, however, so Vivien knew precisely what to do. She finished the letter to Lord Reginald, expressing that Lady Isadora was simply too busy and—of course, regretfully—unable to meet him any time in the near future due to her philanthropic obligations.
“Oh, this is interesting,” Lady Isadora said. “Do you see?”
The lady held the last letter aloft, and Vivien read the name. “The Dowager Duchess of Heartwick?” she asked. “Why would she send a letter?”
“I’m unsure,” Lady Isadora mused. “I briefly spoke to her during the Season, and we discussed floral arrangements.”
Vivien had been present for that discussion, but because Lady Isadora did not seem to recall her presence, Vivien remained silent.
“And horses.” Here, Lady Isadora paused and wrinkled her nose.
Although few knew it, Lady Isadora fiercely detested horses. As a girl, a mare had bucked and thrown her to the ground, and ever since, Lady Isadora avoided horses whenever she was able.
“I might be willing to forget the horses, though,” Lady Isadora said, “If His Grace is involved.”
Lady Isadora let out a dreamy little sigh, and Vivien understood why. The Duke of Heartwick was very handsome. He was a tall and broad-shouldered man, whose deep, melodic voice radiated both strength and reliability. His hair was as brilliant as spun gold and his eyes a playful sky blue. By all accounts, he was a striking man.
Chivalrous, too, or so Vivien had heard. She only met the lords and ladies who Lady Isadora met, and the lady had only spoken to His Grace on a handful of occasions.
“It must be difficult for him, being so young,” Vivien mused.
At only five-and-twenty years, the Duke of Heartwick managed the largest dukedom in all of Britain, ever since his father’s unexpected death only two years before. Vivien, who’d never known her parents, always felt as though she’d lost something deep and profound with their loss, and she could scarcely imagine how much more difficult it must be to lose a parent when still young and unready, but old enough to remember them fondly.
“Nevertheless, he bears the title and its responsibilities well,” Lady Isadora said, flipping the letter between her fingers.
“Without a doubt, My Lady.”
“Shall we open it, then?” the lady asked, already tearing the seal open.
For a moment, Lord Reginald’s letter remained forgotten on the desk, as Vivien leaned forward to listen.
“Dear Lady Isadora,
I was thinking just a day or so ago about the delightful conversations we had at Lord Summerfield’s ball during the latter half of the Season, and I had the most wonderful thought.”
“Oh?” Vivien asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Lady Isadora gave her an amused smile. “She likely wants to begin a gardening club or something of the like.”
That was quite likely, at least from Vivien’s appraisal of the lady’s character.
“You are an intelligent, well-mannered lady of good breeding with a bright disposition, and as I’m sure you’re aware, my son has only recently become the Duke of Heartwick. I fear that he spends too much time on managing the dukedom and far less looking after himself. This is, as I’m sure you’ll agree, the most charitable of flaws.”
Lady Isadora paused suddenly, although her eyes continued to skim the letter’s contents.
“Well?” Vivien asked, after a long moment.
Lady Isadora drew in a sharp gasp. “Oh, God! Am I dreaming? Read, read!”
The lady sprang to her feet and shoved the letter into Vivien’s startled face. With a surprised laugh, Vivien took the letter in hand. Lady Isadora paced the floor suddenly, practically bursting with anxiety.
Vivien frowned and skimmed the letter’s contents, searching for the words which had thrown Lady Isadora into such a state of disarray.
I think my son could benefit from a presence like yours, and when I approached your parents with the idea, they agreed that it was quite a good one. And over several weeks of correspondence, your parents and I began to consider the possibility of a betrothal. Therefore, I would like to cordially invite you to spend time on our estate with your mother, so we may discuss a potential engagement and union of our families. I have also sent a letter to your parents, inviting them to join us for the occasion.
Vivien read the letter again, before her wide eyes snapped to Lady Isadora’s face. The lady’s delicate hands covered her mouth. “It still says it,” she said, her words muffled.
“It does.”
Vivien paused, trying to judge Lady Isadora’s reaction. She scarcely knew the Duke Heartwick, even if she found him handsome, and Vivien was quite sure that Lady Isadora was not in love with the Duke.
But color rose in Lady Isadora’s cheeks, and a sparkle came to her blue eyes. “The Duke of Heartwick!” she exclaimed. “And his estate! Oh, my goodness! Can you believe it? We must go at once.”
“We?” asked Vivien.
Lady Isadora waved a dismissive hand. “Of course, we! I’m hardly going to leave you behind! Oh, I hope I don’t forget anything! The Duke!”
Vivien grinned, as Lady Isadora’s enthusiasm rose, seeming to fill every corner of the room. “You’re not so bored now, My Lady!”
Lady Isadora laughed and swept back into her chair. She reached out and clasped Vivien’s hands and gave them a tight squeeze. “No, no, I’m not! His Grace, the Duke! Why, what a high-born noble! Do you think I’ll grow to love him? It sounds so romantic, doesn’t it? A lady being swept away to a duke’s country manor!”
Vivien nodded, joy blossoming in her breast. While lords and ladies often kept multiple residences and traveled to them frequently, Lady Isadora and her parents remained primarily in London, going to the country only when they were ill and in sore need of fresh air. And going to His Grace’s estate was an opportunity to see something new, to explore the world that was so much vaster than Vivien’s simple life.
“I must summon the dressmakers at once! If I’m to woo him properly, I’ll need something beautiful to wear.” Lady Isadora spoke so earnestly that—had she not been a Lady—one might have believed that she lacked a wardrobe filled with luxurious, pearl-encrusted gowns.
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br /> “I can send for them,” Vivien said.
Lady Isadora swept away again, spinning across the floor as though she’d been asked to dance. “Wonderful. Yes! Oh, Vivien, this is going to be so wonderful! Don’t you think? There is so much to do.”
“I know, but we can do it. I’ll make all haste to the dressmakers,” Vivien said, standing, “And I’m sure they’ll be quick to answer your summons.”
“Yes, of course. It’s not the Season.”
For a brief second, both of them fell silent. Then, without warning, Lady Isadora emitted a delighted scream and pulled Vivien into a hug. “I can’t believe it,” the lady said. “This is—this is precisely what our boring winter needed.”
Vivien nodded, grinning so much that her face hurt. “I know. And I don’t think any lady has ever been invited to the Duke’s estate, not since he took the title.”
“No, there haven’t been any. I’d know if there were! And for the Dowager Duchess to choose me!” Lady Isadora let off with a small, longing sigh. “She must have a much higher opinion of me than I anticipated!”
Lady Isadora squeezed Vivien’s shoulders once more. Then, the lady herself left the sitting room and strode into her own bedroom. Vivien followed, Lord Reginald’s reply left forgotten on the desk.
With a flourish, Lady Isadora threw open the doors to her wardrobe and drew out an elegant, fur-lined riding jacket. She held it against her chest and sighed breathily. “I might even be willing to love horses for him,” she said. “What a match! I scarcely could’ve imagined a better one! If I can just make a good first appearance, I’ve no doubt I can charm him. He’ll fall madly in love with me at first sight. How romantic!”
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