Finding Hope (Mail Order Bride: Brides And Promises Book 1)

by Ruby Hill

  Now, she was not as conceited as some might think. At least, she herself did not think that. She was the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Edgefield, who were well-respected and important in society. While Jane’s siblings were humbled by it, and acted in such a way, Lady Jane took it as a source of pride. She would never admit that she was better than anyone else, but she did believe it, in a sense. It was not her fault that she was who she was, was it? She was the product of her parents’ lineage, and their parents before them.

  She was also now the oldest siblings to still live in the Edgefield estate, her two eldest brothers having been married and in their own homes. Her eldest brother, Lord Bridgewater, and his lovely wife lived in the large manor at the edge of her father’s land. Her next oldest brother was now a vicar, who gave up living a life of luxury to enter the church and marry a woman who was not of noble birth. Jane did see something romantic in it, but she could still not understand her brother’s desire to make the choices that he made. It was no matter though, since she was aware that his concerns lay elsewhere, and he never thought the workings of society of much importance.

  Their poor father was now at his wit’s end with a house full of women and often found any excuse to go on long walks or to have friends over far more often than Jane remembered. She and her sisters found it quite amusing, and they would often discuss it and tease their father.

  Their mother had now shifted her own focus. “Now, this ball this weekend is sure to be beneficial to you all,” she said one afternoon as the family enjoyed tea together in the garden.

  Summer had come to the estate, and in the lazy, late days, Jane noticed the trees beginning to change. “Fall has come early this year,” Jane said, almost wistfully as she gazed up into the trees.

  “Well, this Saturday is the first of September, dear,” her mother continued, as if she had not been interrupted. “Have you all tried on the new dresses that I had made?”

  Jane’s sisters were both younger than she was by nearly three years. She was just one and twenty, which surprised many people, but she always told them that she had not felt as if she wished to marry earlier than that. She believed she was not old enough or wise enough to make any such decisions.

  Truly, she had not found the ideal match yet, and that was why she had refused as many offers of marriage as she had. She was not like other women who should jump at any offer made to them. No, because of her father’s place as a wealthy duke, she could choose a man that suited her. She didn’t need to marry for money.

  Her ideal husband was out there. Someone who was also well respected in society, and someone who would be worthy of her name.

  “Yes, mother, and frankly, it was not to my taste,” Margaret said, crossing her arms across her chest.

  Jane rolled her eyes and glared at her youngest sister, a small, frail little girl with mousy brown hair that curled in every direction. Margaret was quite plain in comparison to her siblings. She was still very much a young girl, who enjoyed running outdoors and chasing her cats down the long halls of the manor. And yet, the woman she was becoming was almost as concerned about her future as Jane. This fact both pleased and troubled Jane. She cared deeply for her youngest sister, but wished that she would grow into her wisdom sooner than later.

  “Not to your taste?” Beatrice asked, her dark blonde hair tied loose in a low chignon at the nape of her neck. Her green eyes studied her youngest sister. “Honestly, it is as if you expect the Queen’s seamstress herself to design a dress just for you.”

  Jane smirked. Beatrice the clever one. Jane appreciated her middle sister’s wit, and she was also quite charming. Most men were intimidated by Beatrice’s character, but Jane was fiercely proud of it.

  Beatrice turned and looked at her mother. “I think the dresses were exquisite, Mother. And Margaret’s dress was perfectly lovely on her.”

  “Wonderful,” their mother said, a wide smile on her face.

  Jane smirked at the aghast look on Margaret’s face. Beatrice merely shrugged her shoulders.

  “Now, we will be arriving at the duke’s estate at dusk, at which point we will be greeted by the duke, duchess, and their eldest son.”

  At this point, their mother looked over at Jane.

  “What?” Jane asked.

  “He will be looking for you,” Beatrice answered for her. “I’m sure of it.”

  Their mother smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “Indeed, he will be.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes. “They’re always looking at Jane,” she said, the bitterness more than obvious.

  “Margaret Katherine Stone,” their mother said, her brow furrowed, her lips pursed. “Could you perhaps be more thoughtful when choosing your words?”

  “No man will ever look at you with that sort of attitude,” Jane added, folding her own arms over her chest and sitting back in her chair.

  Margaret glared at her sister.

  “Mother, will Robert and Alice be coming to this ball?” Beatrice cut in quickly, preventing Margaret from saying anything that she might regret.

  Their mother shook her head. “No, not this time, unfortunately. Your brother is conducting quite a few weddings this time of year, and it is not wise for them to take time off now. They will be visiting for a week at the end of November.”

  Beatrice sighed.

  “And what of John and Agnes?”

  Margaret brightened at the mention of their eldest brother. “Oh, I do hope they will join us. Although if I were them, I don’t know if could leave a baby as precious at William home with the nanny.”

  Jane felt a swelling of pride at thinking of how their family had already begun to grow. William was the most perfect baby that she had ever seen, and she was elated to be able to call him her nephew.

  “No, I am afraid they will not be joining us either. I called on Agnes yesterday. William is teething and has been almost insufferable because he is not on a proper sleep schedule.”

  Margaret sat back in her chair, looking dejected.

  “He is only six months old,” Jane reassured her.

  “I suppose,” Margaret said.

  “This ball will be an important one for you girls. Everyone knows that we now have only girls in our household, and that our focus will be on ensuring that you all make good matches as well.”

  Beatrice and Margaret both nodded, and Jane looked out over the gardens. Her mother’s idea of a good match and her idea were often not the same. Her mother had scolded her the first three times she had turned men down for asking for her hand in marriage. She had plainly told her that none of them were what she wanted. When her mother asked what she wanted, she replied simply that she would know when she met him.

  “Pardon me, Your Grace, but some letters have arrived.”

  A tall, thin man with a thick, grey moustache appeared, carrying a silver tray with several letters perched on it. He bent down low enough for her mother to pull them from the tray.

  “Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” she said, beginning to look through them. “Has there been word from my husband yet?”

  Mr. Barnes smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, he just arrived home, Your Grace.”

  Their mother smiled in reply to the man. “Wonderful. When you see him, please let him know that we are out here, and that he may join us if he wishes it.”

  Mr. Barnes smirked. “Does Your Grace insist that he would wish to join you?”

  She grinned at him in reply. “That would be most delightful, Mr. Barnes. Thank you.”

  “I shall inform him right away.”

  Jane noticed a letter that had her own name on the front. Her mother noticed it at the same time.

  “Not one, but two letters for you, Jane,” she said and passed them to her.

  No one reacted, aside from Margaret, who scowled when her mother didn’t hand her any letters.

  Jane was used to getting letters. Quite a few of her friends lived throughout England, most of them married already. On top of that, many men s
ent her letters as well, filled with poems and sonnets and stories written about her and her beauty.

  She was surprised, however, to discover that the two letters were neither of these things. They were from men, indeed, and most likely were men who were interested in marrying her.

  “Who are they from?”

  Jane looked over the top of one of the letters to see Margaret and Beatrice both watching her. She smirked. She knew from the looks on their faces that they were watching her face carefully for any reactions she may have, in hopes that they would give them some sort of clue as to who had sent the letters.

  “This one is from Lord Greenshire,” she said calmly, turning it over to the other side.

  “The duke’s son?” Even her mother was interested.

  Jane nodded, feeling her heart beat a little faster.

  “What did he say?” Both of her sisters were staring eagerly at her.

  Jane flipped the letter back over to the front and read it out loud for her sisters and mother.

  “Dear Lady Jane, I hope this letter finds you well. It has come to my attention that you and your family will be attending the ball that my parents are holding this coming weekend. I wished to send my well wishes to you ahead of time and let you know how pleased I am that you will be there.”

  Her sisters’ eyes grew wide, and they blinked expectantly at her.

  “That is all?” Beatrice said.

  “Of course not,” Jane retorted.

  “Well, then keep reading!”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “I hope you will allow me to show you the gardens at my parents’ estate. The rose garden is in full bloom, and I hope that you find the flowers as fragrant and delightful as I do.”

  Sounds of glee and childish laughter escaped her sisters. Apparently, Margaret had forgotten her bitterness in the anticipation of Jane’s letter.

  “I am sure that many men will wish to dance with you, but I do hope that you will save at least one for me. Sincerely yours, Lord Greenshire.”

  Beatrice and Margaret giggled like children.

  Her mother smiled gently. “Well, isn’t he just the most wonderful man?”

  Jane smiled as well. “He is quite the gentleman.”

  “You are going to dance with him, aren’t you?” Beatrice asked.

  “Of course I will,” Jane answered.

  “And with every other man that asks her,” Margaret teased, some of the bitterness in the undertones, but almost indiscernible.

  “And what of the other letter?” her mother asked, eyeing the other letter on the table in front of her.

  Jane unfolded the letter, and with everyone’s eyes on her, began to read.

  “To my dearest Lady Jane.”

  I already know who this is from, she realized.

  “It is my greatest pleasure to write to you; I think of it often. Your beauty is more radiant than the sun, and your smile more lovely than the stars.”

  She felt her own cheeks flush as she read these words out loud. It was most likely written to be read in private, but she had begun to read it out loud, so she continued.

  “It has been far too long since I have seen you, and I do hope that I may gaze upon your smile soon. The days are long without your presence. I will be attending the ball at the Duke of Kirkland’s estate in a fortnight. I do hope that you will be attending. Perhaps we can spend the evening dancing beneath the heavens together. I think of you fondly, and remain humbly yours, Lord Hays.”

  “The baron?” her mother asked, her brow furrowing once more. “The one who we were introduced to last winter?”

  Jane smiled as she folded the letter carefully. “The same, Mother.”

  “Well, he sounds awfully…colorful.”

  Jane had to agree in her own heart.

  “Oh, he’s the handsome one, isn’t he?” Beatrice asked, her eyes wide as she looked at Jane. “The one with the red hair and the beard? And those bright green eyes?”

  Jane felt her cheeks warm again. “Yes, that one.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes again. “Oh, and what of Lord Greenshire? Did you forget about him all of the sudden?”

  “Not at all,” Jane said.

  “He’s quite handsome as well,” Margaret said indignantly. “Tall with dark hair and those steely blue eyes? Besides, Lord Greenshire will one day be the Duke of Kirkland.”

  Their mother said. “I know which of the two I would choose as well.”

  “The obvious choice would be Lord Greenshire, of course, mother,” Jane said, detecting her mother’s thoughts in her tone. “He would be able to provide me with a life as I have always had.”

  “And his parents are well respected members of society,” the duchess remined Jane.

  Jane flinched as the same thoughts, in the exact same words, had passed through her own mind. Her mother nodded her head as if there was nothing more to discuss.

  Jane huffed. “Yes, yes, he is ideal; I understand.”

  “You don’t seem to understand what ideal truly means, daughter,” her mother said, with a raised eyebrow as she looked at Jane.

  Jane held up her hands defensively. “I never disagreed with you, dear Mother.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “He is handsome, and he would provide well for me. I also understand Lord Greenshire outranks Lord Hays. I understand all of these things, but the baron…” she smirked, and tapped the top of the table thoughtfully. “There is just something so very intriguing about him.”

  Her mother looked surprised, and her sisters looked amused.

  “You are to tell me that you would turn down a marquess for a baron? Have you lost your senses?” her mother asked. She was not angry, just genuinely surprised.

  Jane shrugged her shoulders. “If he was the right man for me, Mother, why should it matter if he is a baron or a marquess?”

  Margaret laughed out loud. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jane?”

  Beatrice nodded her head. “I do not believe my ears. The perfect picture of what a woman in high society should look like, and you would even consider a lowly baron for marriage?”

  Jane glared at them all. “I never said that I would be marrying the man,” she retorted. “And I never said that I was dismissing a marquess. I simply said that the baron is an intriguing man. That is all.”

  “And he is extremely handsome,” Margaret repeated. “That certainly does not hurt matters.”

  “And look at all those lovely things that he said,” Beatrice added. “Who could resist a man with such honeyed words?”

  Jane’s sisters broke down in a fit of giggles again, and their mother shook her head. “All right girls, that is enough. I think it is time that we returned indoors. Your father will be wondering where we are.”

  They all rose from the table, and their mother immediately walked gracefully towards the house.

  “It is more like she wonders where father is and why he did not join us out here,” Beatrice said, with a wink at Jane.

  Margaret and Beatrice also made their way inside with their heads pressed together, no doubt discussing the letters that Jane received.

  Jane remained out at the table to enjoy a few moments of quiet, with both of the letters in her lap. She took one letter in each hand. The weight of them both settled over her shoulders as she sat out there alone with them. They were both agreeable men. Her upbringing and her pride told her that Lord Greenshire was indeed the obvious choice. And she liked him, she really did. But Lord Hays…there was something so enticing and charming about the baron. He was very handsome, and he knew exactly what to say to make Jane feel special. She had yet to find a man like that, who could draw a smile from her and allow her to forget for a moment about her role and her place in the world around her. She was aware of his charms, though, and was sure that there was nothing he could do to completely ensnare her. At least, that was what she believed.

  2

  The family arrived at the ball an hour late, but Jane's mother teasingly told the girls that it
was because they were just so excited about the ball that they had spent extra time preparing. She was not wrong, Jane realized. Both she and her sisters had spent far too much time perfecting their hair and choosing the perfect jewelry to match their gowns. Margaret threw an absolute fit when Beatrice chose the red ribbons that she wanted to wear, and it set them back fifteen minutes while they attempted to calm her down.

  Jane chose a midnight blue dress that she adored, and the duchess was quite disappointed that Jane had not worn the new dress. Jane promised her mother that she would wear it in the spring, since she felt the light color would suit her more in the springtime.

  The Duke's house was bustling by the time they arrived. Her father muttered about being stuck making introductions now that they were late instead of being able to just blend into the crowd in the drawing room. Jane's mother huffed and casually glanced out the window of the carriage at all the activity.

  Jane appreciated balls more than even her sister Margaret, who made it her primary prerogative in life to be aware of all the latest fashion and gossip. Jane loved the people, the elegant attire, and most of all, the best and brightest that society had to offer.

  After arriving, Jane quickly located some of her dear friends, Lady Sarah and her sister, Lady Louisa. Standing with them was Lady Violet. They all embraced politely and immediately. Lady Violet filled Jane in on all of the goings-on at the ball. Jane patiently listened to who had already danced together, as well as who had been recently engaged.

  This was part of the reason that Lady Violet had been such a valuable friend for Jane to choose. She had seemingly endless knowledge of anyone of noble birth, and her information was frighteningly accurate. She was not a simple woman either; on the contrary, she was very bright and kind. Even though she was aware of everyone's business, she still cared about a lot of them and was often a great source of comfort to many of them as she was able to recall their trials and tribulations. It was an interesting gift, and Jane appreciated her.

  Lady Louisa nodded along with everything that Violet said, her brown eyes wide.

  "Now, this is the interesting part," Lady Violet continued, her auburn hair in tight curls fastened tastefully against her head with silver pins. "I think you will find this most interesting, Jane. Lord Greenshire has remained in that corner, over there, since we arrived, looking like a lost little lamb."