A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance
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Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Fanny Finch
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Table of Contents
Copyright
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Table of Contents
A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
An Enduring Love for the Lost Marquess- A Preview
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
My Next Novel- A Preview
Chapter 1
About Starfall Publications
About Fanny Finch
Also by Fanny Finch
A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess
Chapter 1
Silence filled the air, ringing loud with the eeriness that came with new places, untraveled territories. The only problem was; this path was not new. It was one Sebastian Longcross had traveled several times over.
It was the road that led to home. Perhaps it was his gloom that made it all so strange. He had never been so sad, to return home.
Yes, it had been over a year since he last went down this path, a year since he last saw his family. He still remembered this course like he did everything else that mattered to him.
The trees he was all too familiar with, the rocky terrains, the hills, the rivers… they were all there. Just as he had left them, just as he remembered. When he finally reached the manor where he had lived most of his life in, his family would be there awaiting his return too, arms open wide to welcome him home.
Alas… it would not be the same.
His demeanor dampened even more as the carriage that was bearing him home, took the last turn that would lead them into Widmore. He swayed with its motion, taking great care to remain on his seat- not that it was hard to do, the coachman was proving very careful with his riding.
When they had righted once more, he adjusted his suit and stared out the window.
Soon, they would be in the heart of the village. Only a few moments left until he had to face his family. His mind was plagued with thoughts on how the reunion would go- with plenty of other thoughts too, many of which he might never tell another soul.
It had been plagued since he had received the letter two months ago. Of course, he had packed up his things and left for England immediately. There had been no time to tarry.
The seas had been kind on most days and the sail had been impressive. They had made good time and in less than two months, Sebastian had found himself on English shores.
His old life was over- this he was certain of. Everything changed the moment he read those words. He now had a new life, new responsibilities. Shoes that he was afraid were too big to fill. Yet, he could only try and hope not to fail.
Sebastian Longcross had the type of childhood every second heir in this era had- growing up knowing that he came second. He was the one they would fall back to, in the case that something went wrong.
It had never bothered him. Though he had known that his duties and responsibilities differed from that of his elder brother, his parents had tried their best to show both sons, equal love.
Yes, they had taken the same lessons, been invited into the same meetings- still, Sebastian had constantly been reminded of the fact that he would never have to take on the mantle unless his older brother was found wanting.
He had been just fine with that. As they grew into men, Sebastian had come to realize the bigger blessing that was. While Hanson, his beloved brother, had to remain in Widmore and rule alongside his father, he had been free to go on a grand tour that had lasted four years.
The plan had been to be gone for five. See the world in its entirety. Then, he would return to rule as Marquess of Northcott. It had been a beautiful thought, and he had enjoyed every moment of his freedom.
Until something had gone terribly wrong.
Though Sebastian had been trained to take his brother’s place if the need ever arose, he was aware that the likelihood of that happening was quite slim. No one had wanted for it.
No one in the family he knew and loved. They had believed that Hanson would live long and old, and rule as Duke when their father went to eternal rest. Everyone had been pleased by that thought. Everyone.
A terrible thing that fate had other plans and life had its way of proving it was beyond human control.
That letter he had received… one he still had in his hand this moment, he held everywhere he went, had contained a short, precise and entirely heartbreaking message.
Hanson was dead. His heart had failed him. He was found in his study at the townhouse in London, his soul given.
Sebastian had to return home as he was now the only heir. He would have the time to mourn his brother, yes. Then, he would have to step into the shoes Hanson had left behind, and carry on as his brother had so faithfully done.
Sebastian was yet to mourn, but his soul grieved already. A part of him hoped it was all a lie. A very ludicrous one to lure him home… after all, his birthday was near, was it not? Perhaps, his family simply wanted him home, so he would celebrate with them.
Yet, even as that thought crossed his mind, he felt the sharp pain like a stab in his heart. It made him wince. A voice, mocking, laughed in his ears… he was simply deluding himself.
Deep down, where there were no doubts or denial, he knew his brother was gone. Also, in that very place for clarity and critical thoughts, Sebastian knew that Hanson’s death had been no stroke of a poor heart.
His brother had been murdered.
Sebastian had made a vow that he would not mourn, not until he brought the murderer to justice. How he intended to do it, he knew not. All he knew, was that it would be done.
Hanson had been a wonderful man, a great son and an amazing older brother. Older by three years, he had held Sebastian’s hands when they were only little lads, taught him all he knew about hunting and fishing. Climbing trees and swimming rivers.
Hanson had made Sebastian laugh even when tears filled his eyes and had remained by his bedside every time the woes o
f ailment plagued him and he had needed to be nursed to health.
When they became men, Hanson had taught Sebastian all he needed to know about life, as he saw it. He had shared his experiences, his dream, his hope… They had been more than brothers, they had been the best of friends.
The first year of the grand tour, they had been together. It had been the best year of their lives. Away from all the duties back at home. Free to do whatever it was they wanted… they had felt like birds in the skies, with feathers to fly wherever fit their heart’s desires.
After Hanson had ended his tour and returned home, he had kept writing to Sebastian. A good number of correspondences, defying time and distance. Their love had been pure, it had been strong, it had held.
The grief of his death weighed heavily on Sebastian’s heart. It was like a fresh sore that would not heal soon. Sebastian welcomed its pain. He would hold it dear until he found who had done this wicked thing.
It would be his reminder to never give up, no matter how hard it got.
There was no inkling that there had been foul play, except the gut feeling in Sebastian’s throat that he could not shake away, no matter how hard he tried.
The physician had said there had been no sign of struggle, or poison… Hanson had died a peaceful death. So, it could only have been his heart.
Sebastian did not agree. He had known Hanson. Lived with him, breathed the same air as him. He knew his brother had a strong heart. One that could not have given up only after twenty and eight summers of good work.
No. Impossible. Someone had done that. Why? He knew not. How? He would know soon. Who? That too, was his duty to find.
That was the true reason he was returning home. Yet, it was a secret he would keep to himself, for this was something he needed to do alone.
Hanson had been killed in London. Whatever Sebastian needed to find, it was to be found in London. It was a good thing he had arrived just in time for the season.
Though they should be mourning, Hanson had been dead five months, and it was another month until the season would begin fully. Now that he was heir, it was only expected that he took a wife as quickly as possible.
Hanson had had no wife until his death. The implication of that was that he had no son, no heir whatsoever. If something happened to Sebastian, their lineage would be gone...
He knew all these things, he understood it. There was no time to tarry.
He would take a wife, and he would sire an heir. It was what his parents would ask of him, his people, and he would not deny them. It was only the start of many other sacrifices that would follow.
Only, Sebastian was a man who believed in love. The past years on other sides of the world, different people, experiencing their culture, had given him an entirely different outlook on life.
He wanted more than a marriage born out of duty. He wanted more than a union of obligation. His only fear was, that it would not be found in three months of the season.
However, he could only try, could he not?
Finding love, while finding a murderer would pose a difficult task to accomplish, but he was Sebastian Northcott. Very little proved impossible for him to do.
As for the shoes he had to fill… he would never compare to Hanson and he never wished to. He would do his best by his people, make his parents proud. All the lessons he had learned, he would call to remembrance and put into practice.
When he left America, he had kissed his freedom goodbye. He was a new man now, a man on a mission.
The silence faded as noise from the village began to stream into the carriage.
Knowing that the time had come, he pushed his head out the window and began to wave at the villagers; children, their mothers, maiden, and gentry. He was their heir now. The one who would become Duke in good time.
Their warm welcome, their happy smiles, their reference, all filled his heart with emotions so warm, they almost drove away from the chill he had been cloaked in for a while now.
Sebastian cherished it, glad for the moment. As they left the village behind, he settled into his seat once more and prepared his mind for the meeting to come.
In no time, the carriage rolled to a stop.
Finally, he had arrived home.
Gracefully, he stepped down from the carriage. His limbs ached to be stretched after being held stiffly in position for days, but he knew there would be time for that later.
Stilling his mind one last time, he turned and looked upon the assemblage that had gathered to welcome him home.
Of course, leading the charge were his mother and father.
It was always like this whenever he returned home. Only, next to his parents, used to be Hanson. Always.
The trees, and hills and rivers might have remained the same, but Hanson was gone. His family was now incomplete.
The pain in his heart went deeper, making the sore hurt even harder.
Nevertheless, Sebastian forced his lips to curve in a smile; howbeit a sad one. Then, he began his ascent to where his parents waited.
There was silence as he climbed the stairs. When he finally reached his father, he sunk into a bow.
“Father…” the duke of Widmore would not let him finish. He held his son up, drawing him into an embrace instead.
Sebastian had sworn he would shed no tears. He had believed it an easy feat to manage. Yet, as his father’s arms gathered around him, sharing all the warmth and love in his heart, Sebastian felt the flood gather around his eyes. Holding them back proved harder than any duty he had ever fulfilled.
“Welcome home, son! You have no idea how happy we are to finally see you. It has been trying times indeed. Now that you are home with us, we can rest easy and continue to mourn our beloved in peace.”
“Father…” he wanted to speak, but he had no words. He had prepared for this, gone over this meeting countless times, thought of a million reactions and responses. Yet, all he could do at that moment was hold on to his father and try not to cry before all the people here.
So, he nodded and took his time to pull himself together. When he was confident he could handle his emotions once more, he pulled away and went to his mother.
Tears had already filled her eyes and her black garment, a sign of her sorrowful heart. He wouldn’t let her say anything. He simply took her into his arms. She was still as petite as he remembered her, as she had always been. She easily fit in, her head stopping at his chest.
When Sebastian felt his shirt grow wet, he held her even tighter.
“Mother, I’m here. I’m sorry I did not come earlier. I’m sorry I have not been here to hold you and comfort you. But, I’m here now.”
She began to shake her head, wanting none of his guilt.
She pulled away eventually to look him in the eyes…
“Don’t you go speaking as though you could have controlled this any more than we could have. We could have done nothing… all of us put together. Hanson had been alone in London, with no one but staff for a companion. Those staff brought his body, lifeless, back to us. Yes, you were away, but just as you have been for years, living your life. We were away too. There was no way we could have known that such a thing could happen. So, my dear…” she reached up to cup his cheeks, her voice tender, her eyes soft.
“I do not wish to hear any nonsense that expresses regrets. He is gone. We could not have stopped him from doing so. Only the good Lord knows best. All we can do now is mourn him, miss him and try to move on with our lives. It is what he would want, you know. Hanson? He would want us to be happy.”
And because that was true, for the first time since Sebastian received that news, he let himself breathe. Deeply, free from the weight of guilt he had placed upon himself.
Nodding, he held his mother gently and dropped a tender kiss on the fore of her head.
“We will be that… happy, once again. I promise you.”
It was not the end of the sad, teary reunion, Sebastian knew. Nevertheless, it was enough for now.
So, he let his mother go and he went round, accepting condolences from staff and extended family members that had gathered on his behalf.
Chapter 2
“Oh, goodness! So lovely! Is it not?”
Liliana Swan shook her head as she looked up at her sister, her lips stretching into a happy smile.
“Yes, Nora. It looks very lovely. I believe it brings out the color in your eyes, and it compliments your skin so well.”
Nora gave into a squeal accompanied by a happy dance that had her skipping around the same spot.
“Thank you, sister! I knew this shade of yellow was the right color. I’m going to look absolutely beautiful at the ball tomorrow. Like a dream, I tell you. A fairy tale.”
“That, I have no doubt about,” Liliana answered, enjoying her sister’s excitement.
With the smile on her face, she went back to her embroidery, leaving her sister to admire herself in the mirror. That was Nora. Ever happy, a little too loud than was considered proper for a lady, and very outspoken too.