Carriages had been arriving all morning, with beautifully attired guests stepping down from the warm interiors. Adelaide had watched them arrive from her bedchamber window, while growing more and more excited with every new person who was welcomed into the house. They had all departed again a short time ago, heading for the church, which let her know that the wedding was nearing.
With nervous excitement buzzing through her, she stood in front of the looking glass in her bedchamber, admiring the cream silk gown. She could see her face through the gauzy veil that partially covered her features, giving an air of mystery that amused her.
They had returned to the countryside several weeks ago, after the altercation with Reuben. Since then, there had not been a single whisper of anything to do with her family. He had kept his word, though she knew he had not been happy about it. Reuben was not the kind of man who liked to be fooled like that. Still, she was glad of the way things had turned out.
Their engagement had been officially revoked, leaving her free to court Jasper, although they had waited a suitable amount of time before a proposal had been offered. She had accepted without hesitation, marveling at her good fortune. Love had filled the two townhouses, and it had followed them all the way back to Yorkshire. Their families could not have been more content with the arrangement, and neither could she.
A knock at the door disturbed her. Lady Leeds poked her head around and smiled at the sight of her daughter in her wedding dress. She stepped into the room and moved across to where Adelaide stood.
“You look beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you, Mama.”
“You know, I remember my own wedding day as if it were yesterday,” she murmured wistfully. “I stood as you are doing, wondering what my life would become. I did not know your father then, but as soon as I saw him at the end of the aisle, I knew that he would make me happy. You are more fortunate than I, for you have known Jasper your entire life. You are already conscious of your affections for one another.”
Adelaide grinned from ear-to-ear. “I love him, Mama.”
“And he loves you,” she replied. “I can see it in the way he watches you, and the way you laugh with one another. Laughter is such sweet medicine, and you shall live long lives indeed, with such a thing to guide you through your union together.”
“How can it be that I am so fortunate?”
Lady Leeds held her daughter close. “Because you are of pure heart. You have always sought to do whatever you can for our family, and now you have been rewarded with a gift of your own.”
“I have never been so happy.”
“For that I am glad.”
The sound of carriage wheels crunched on the gravel outside, signaling the moment Adelaide had been waiting for. By the time the church bells rang noon, she would be a married lady. She flashed a nervous grin at her mother and smoothed down the front of her elegant gown.
“Should we go?” she asked.
Lady Leeds nodded. “It is time.”
They left the bedchamber and headed down the stairs, where Ephraim was waiting. He had struggled with a great deal of guilt after everything that had happened with Reuben. After Adelaide and Jasper had spoken about their plan, they had gone to Ephraim and explained everything in detail. He had agreed to their ruse and reached out to Lord Rowntree, to acquire his help in setting up Reuben.
However, he knew that much of it had been his fault. Even now, Adelaide could see the remorse in his eyes. It pained her to see it in her father, who had only sought to protect them. She hoped that, in time, he would be able to forgive himself as she had forgiven him.
“You look ethereal, Adelaide,” he said, taking her arm and leading her out to the carriage. “This is a happy day indeed.”
“I am truly blessed,” she replied, laying her head on his shoulder as they settled into the interior.
As the carriage trundled along the gravel path, heading towards the Kiveton churchyard, Adelaide found her thoughts turning to Leah. They had not spoken since she had taken Leah back home, after her ordeal with Reuben. However, she had heard that Leah had found an eligible young man of considerable fortune, who had offered a proposal of marriage. No child had arisen from her folly with Lord McGillivray, and she had not suffered any disrepute from being discovered in a room with Reuben, leaving her free of scandal.
Adelaide regretted bringing Leah into the ruse, but it had all worked out for the best for her. Reuben had paid her a handsome sum in order to assure her silence, and she had found a young man who wished to marry her. Still, Adelaide missed the presence of a female companion. They had never been the best of friends, but that did not mean she did not care for Leah.
Five minutes later, they arrived outside the church. Flakes of snow tumbled to the ground in a steady curtain of pure white. It would soon be Christmastide, Adelaide’s favorite time of the year. She could smell it in the air, making her excited for the prospect of mulled wine and spiced fruitcake. More exciting, however, was the prospect of her wedding.
The organ began to play as she entered, her train rustling as she walked down the aisle with her father beside her. The congregation rose, a sea of smiling faces watching her as she approached her husband-to-be. Jasper turned slowly, a grin spreading across his features. Adelaide had never seen him look so happy.
He wore navy-blue tails, which showed off his masculine physique, making him look very smart indeed. His curls had been forced into submission, framing his handsome features in the most exquisite way. As she gazed upon him, her heart fluttered with joy. This shall be the happiest day of my life, I am certain of it.
“I have never seen anything more wonderful in all my life,” he whispered, as he lifted her veil, the two of them coming together before the altar.
She chuckled. “You look rather fetching yourself.”
“I love you so very much, Adelaide.”
“And I love you with all my heart.”
They turned as the reverend began to speak, his voice echoing across the vaulted ceiling of the church. Adelaide clung to Jasper’s arm as the first verses were spoken from the Bible. Try as she might, she could not let him go. If she did, she feared he might disappear; that she might awaken to find that this was all a dream.
Turning over her shoulder, she glanced at her mother and father on the front pew. Margaret had happy tears in her eyes, whilst Ephraim held his wife’s hand tight. Adelaide had never seen them more unified than they appeared to be in that moment. On the other side of the church, Jasper’s parents were in a similar state of wistful unity. Evidently, it reminded them of their own wedding day.
Returning her attention to the reverend, Adelaide listened with attentive ears as the vows were solemnly declared. Repeating the words as instructed, she stared intently into Jasper’s eyes. He looked right back, the smile never once leaving his face. They were committing themselves to one another in front of God, and it was the most marvelous feeling in the world.
Half an hour later, once the vows were made and the verses had been read and the hymns had been sung, the new Lord and Lady Gillet made their way out of the church to the sound of the bells chiming. A thick blanket of snow had already fallen, their footsteps crunching in the crisp white of it. The congregation tossed petals and barley over their heads as they made their way to the waiting carriage, where they would begin the rest of their lives.
The driver held open the door as they bundled inside, sitting close to one another on the velvet squabs. Immediately, the chill of the afternoon eased, though Jasper drew a blanket across Adelaide’s legs to ensure she did not catch cold. As the carriage started forth towards the house, she nestled into her new husband, inhaling the fresh scent of him.
“Are you happy, my love?” he asked.
She lifted her chin up. “I have never felt so happy. I feel I may burst with joy.”
He laughed, cupping her face with his hands. “Nor have I, my sweeting. This is truly the most blessed moment. I never thought to find a lo
ve like this. Indeed, I never expected to be so fortunate.”
“Neither did I. We have been fools all these years, have we not?”
“We have, though we found each other at last,” he replied. “Now, I cannot imagine a life without you. I realize that you would always have been by my side as a dear friend, but that could never have been enough. This is all I have ever wanted, though it took me some time to realize it. And I know that many awful things have tarnished the latter end of the season, but at least they led me to you. They awakened me to my true emotions, stirring them up from a deep slumber.”
“Your love for me was hibernating?” she teased.
“Oh yes, and it has been an exceedingly long winter,” he said with a grin. “Now, might I be permitted to kiss my wife?”
She smiled. “You may.”
He leaned in slowly, his lips grazing hers with exquisite tenderness. A shiver of excitement bristled up her spine. She looped her arms around his neck, sinking into the intimacy of the moment. The pressure of his lips against hers was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and she could not wait to discover more. She kissed him back with equal fervor, reveling in the sensation of being his wife.
Truly, she had never known happiness like it.
Love, it seemed, really did conquer all. It would not be denied.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
Eager to know more on how Adelaide’s and Jasper’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this free complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple.
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The Dukedom of Deception
About the Book
Love is blind, they say... and doesn't mind riches. Such is the love of a merchant's daughter, Louisa, and the charming young nobleman Felton. Crazy in love and emboldened by the passion of their youth, they seek for their families' blessings for their union.
However, the Duke, Felton's father demands of him to marry a certain Lady of the peerage. As his family's obsession lacks any profound reason, Felton will try to investigate this mystery only to be caught in a web of shameful lies and political scandal...
Felton's parents are willing to sacrifice their son's happiness for their own good and will do anything to break the two lovers apart. He took an oath to fight for Louisa's love against all odds, but she is too hurt to carry on...
Chapter 1
Two stalwart horses and their riders came tearing over the ridge, down the narrow trail, and along the bank of the river. The lead rider turned over his shoulder and called out to the rider behind him, “Are you ready to stand for the drinks? Because you are about to lose.”
He turned to the front again, but he was too late. He was struck by a low hanging branch and tumbled backward. The second rider pulled up, jumped off his horse, and went over to his friend who lay unconscious—his leg twisted at an odd angle.
“Felton, Felton… Oh, my God… Felton,” he said, shaking his friend by the shoulders trying to revive him.
Evan, the second rider, ran over to the bank of the river and cupped his hands, scooping up water and trying to run back with it to his friend, but he could not hold it as it dribbled away.
He kneeled down and patted Felton’s face with his wet palms. “Felton, old boy, wake up.”
Felton groaned, his eyes flickering. “I fell…”
“You certainly did, but do not move. It looks like you have broken your leg, and you have a nasty slash across your face where the branch hit you.”
“A real cock-up, eh?” Felton said in a weak, scratchy voice.
“I do not think I should try to move you. Let me ride into the village to get help.”
Felton tried to sit up on his elbows but he was shot through with a stab of pain and he fell back, passing out again.
“Damn it to hell!” Evan said, rising up. He went to his horse, after securing Felton’s horse, threw himself onto the saddle and raced toward the village.
* * *
Louisa Turner often took long walks in the morning where she could think and dream. Not that she could not do the same at home, but she loved the sound of the flowing water, the music of the birds, and the gentle cooling summer breeze when the weather was fair.
This morning was fresh as there had been a shower overnight and the air smelled of wet leaves and that sweet smell that enlivens the air after a rain.
Louisa was from the West Sussex village of Petworth. She was the eldest child, at nineteen, of the cotton merchant, Arthur Turner and his wife Martha—a decent and well respected local middle-class family.
As Louisa walked along the riverbank, she carried herself with an elegant grace that most of the village girls did not possess. She was taller than her family, with dark curly hair, expressive sparkling eyes, and a self-assured patrician air that set her apart from her more mundane peers.
Louisa saw a horseman approaching at a fast pace. She stepped aside to let him pass and, although he looked at her, he did not stop, say hello, or give her anything but a curt nod.
Most strange, she thought. Could he be fleeing the law, late for an appointment, or pretending he is in a race? Those thoughts set her chuckling, but not for long for she stooped over, picked a stem of grass, and absentmindedly tied it into a bow.
She was coming up to a bend in the river, beyond which was her favorite rock for sitting. It was situated at the river’s edge and had a most pleasant view in the shade. She often took a break there before starting back home.
As she rounded the bend, she was surprised to see someone stretched out on the ground not far from her rock. Her first thought was that he had been struck by the racing horseman who did not stop to help.
She immediately ran over and kneeled beside the man who appeared to be unconscious.
“Sir, sir, can you hear me?” Louisa asked, as she lightly patted the young man’s face.
The man turned his head from side to side as he regained consciousness. His eyes flickered open and he looked up at her with a surprised expression.
“Evan, what has happened to Evan?” he asked, as if from far away.
“I saw a horseman racing by earlier. Might that be your friend?” She took a handkerchief from her pocket and began dabbing his brow which was covered with sweat, dirt, and leaves. “Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked. “It looks to me like you have hurt your leg.”
“I think it is broken. Do you fix legs, by any chance?”
She laughed. “I am afraid I do not. So sorry, but are you thirsty? Might I fetch you some water from the river?”
“Yes, that would be lovely. Are you to carry it in your hands, for that was not so successful for my friend?”
“Not so, I carry a flask when I walk for just such occasions.”
“So, you meet fallen strangers on your walks regularly?”
“Not so regularly but I, too, often need a drink when I am out on a summer’s day.”
“Then I would welcome your assistance, for I am dry.”
“I shall be but a moment.”
She returned shortly with the water and put her hand under the young man’s head to raise it up so he could drink. He seemed to be regaining his faculties.
“Thank you, Miss…?”
“Louisa Turner of Petworth and you are, sir?”
“Felton Windham, at your service, or, I would be if I could move.”
“Windham? Windham? Are you of the Burlington Abbey Windhams?”
“None other.” Felton said. “Son of the Duke. Can you believe that?
“The Marquess of Harwood?”
“That is I, but do not let me scare you off. Stay with me for a few moments until my friend returns.”
Louisa made herself as comfortable as she could while kneeling on the ground. She studie
d the man before her.
Felton Windham, the Marquess of Harwood—the son of the Duke and Duchess of Stapleton—was a young man of twenty. When he did not have lacerations across his face and no broken leg, he cut quite a handsome figure in the county of West Sussex where he lived with his family at Burlington Abbey. He stood tall at well over six feet. He wore his dark, nearly coal black, hair long and tied loosely away from his handsome face. He had dark eyes and an open gracious smile—always ready with a quick laugh and a cheery greeting. His athletic build was honed by his constant riding, his love of pugilism, and the long runs and walks he took on the grounds of the family estate.
“But what happened to you?”
“Stupid riding accident. Broken leg and a scratch on the head.”
“More than just scratches it looks like to me.”
“I cannot see myself. Is it really that bad?”
“I have no mirror. So, I shall be your mirror.”
“Very well,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.
“Now then, there is this large red welt going from here to here.” She drew a line in front of his face from the top of his forehead, across his nose, and down his left cheek. “Then, here is a gash that goes across part of this other cheek, and there are at least three or four abrasions that are starting to scab over.” She squinted. “Are you in great pain?”
Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 27