A Broken Heart's Redemption: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Abby Ayles

  “But I would be away possibly forever,” she replied.

  “You would be able to come home, and we would be able to see you. Really, in terms of how long you would be away from home, it would not be much different than being married,” her mother said.

  Lucy sighed. “But I would not be married.”

  “Lucy, if no man is good enough, if no man is right for you... then what can we do? We cannot wait forever for something which would not happen. Most young women your age are already married. Certainly after nearly three years courting, one would expect you to have found someone.” Lady Fitzgerald shook her head. “No, we must protect your virtue and give you a purpose.”

  “But how can I know that being a nun is my purpose?” Lucy asked.

  “If you are not destined to marry, and you are too naïve to survive on your own, then you need to be somewhere you would be taken care of when we are gone. Somewhere you can cultivate virtue and do good in this world, to secure your place in paradise with us,” her mother insisted.

  She nodded. “I suppose if that truly is the only way,” she said to herself quietly.

  “I beg your pardon?” her mother asked.

  She shook her head and smiled. “Nothing, I was just talking to myself,” she replied, picking her book up again.

  Lucy still had her doubts, and was glad for the additional time. But unless a man made himself manifest in the following six to eight months, then what use was the time? If that man did not exist, then all the time in the world could not help.

  If she was going to spend the rest of her life being this indecisive, then it was probably for the best that someone was finally taking the reins and making the decision for her.

  Nevertheless, the sudden loss of control terrified her.

  She made a point of dressing as modestly as possible on the day of the wedding. It would not be appropriate to show off her figure and her feminine features if she was not seeking a husband. It would send the wrong message, and then she may be approached by another Duke Perry or, worse yet, another Prince Ferdinand.

  The wedding itself revived her own illusions and hopes for marriage. When she had been younger, this was exactly what she had pictured for her own wedding. A wedding that would never take place.

  It was a beautiful affair. Although she knew that if she was to become a nun she would have to control her sinful thoughts and urges, she was nevertheless jealous of the couple who were enjoying such a fantastic day together. It made her heart sore to see it. The last summer flowers were so bright and beautiful, scattered about the church. It felt almost as though they had passed autumn and winter, and moved straight into next spring.

  Great white bows were everywhere, on the ends of the pews, hanging from the unlit chandeliers, and pinned to the doors. The Byrd family crest was mounted high on the wall at the back of the church, signifying how their line was growing and strengthening with the addition of Julia.

  Lucy watched the ceremony with a combination of awe and bitter jealousy. She could not believe how hostile she had been to this only a few months ago. It was not a terrible thing. It was beautiful. She had rejected it with such passion only because of Duke Perry. And now she craved it with equal passion thanks to Lord Jones.

  After the ceremony she made her way to greet and congratulate the newly-weds. Thomas looked smart, but Julia looked positively radiant. Her smooth, long, dark hair hung freely about her head, and her deep brown eyes were enhanced by carefully applied makeup. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips glistened, and her stunning white dress hugged her body just enough to show off her nubile physique. Lucy could not help but wonder how she would have looked on her own wedding day, whether she would have been as beautiful as Julia...

  “I suppose you are no longer angry at others for their happiness,” Thomas said.

  Lucy blushed in shame. “No... I am sorry for my outbursts at you. I did not really understand. But I am so happy for you now.”

  “I am not angry at you,” Thomas replied with a shrug. “Although I am confused.”

  Julia nodded. “You used to be so keen on marriage. You were one of the first of us all to host play weddings. It is somewhat surreal to see you becoming so hostile towards it.”

  “I am ashamed of my actions and words, to tell the truth,” Lucy said. “And I regret much of what I said.”

  “But not all of it?” Thomas asked.

  “I am just.” She paused. “I am not sure I am the sort of woman who marries. I suppose I was looking at the world through my own perspective, not realizing that other people see things differently,” Lucy replied. “But I am happy for you both. Wherever my own life goes from now, I am happy for you.”

  Julia embraced her. “I am glad to hear you say that. But I am afraid we must go to the table again, it seems my parents are calling us over to see more relatives.” She smiled sweetly and, taking Thomas's hand and guiding him towards the table.

  Lucy wondered about mingling. But what for? Nobody could take her mind off her fears. Nobody but Mary could advise her on what to do next. And it was not as though she needed to find a husband. It struck her how her every social interaction had been based around men. Now that she was not courting, she no longer knew what to do with herself.

  Then Lucy saw him standing across the room. Lord Andrew Jones. Her heart began to beat hard and fast and her hands shook slightly. She wanted to walk up to him and talk to him. No, she wanted to see him outside the room and kiss him. She wanted to marry him. And he wanted to walk down a hallway with a woman who used to be his fiancée so he could do indecent things to her. Which was why she could not go and talk to him.

  She pretended she had not seen him and wondered whether she could avoid him for the rest of the day. But he had seen her, and moments later she felt a hand gently brush her shoulder.

  Turning around, she was directly face to face with Lord Jones. She felt herself blushing and stepped back a little, to put some space between them. “Good morning,” she said.

  “Good morning to you too,” he replied. “Were you not coming to see me?” he added.

  “I did not know you would be here,” she said, wondering whether to make an excuse and leave, or to stay and talk to the man she had respected so much. His presence was such a terrible temptation to her.

  “I thought you were simply avoiding me,” he replied, making eye contact with her, his voice taking on an accusing tone.

  She shrugged. She could not deny it. “I suppose it is a little uncomfortable for me to be around a man who I desire, yet shall never marry,” she admitted. “I would much rather be alone than stranded in the face of temptation.”

  “I see...” he replied. “I have missed you.” His voice was full of love and hurt, and his hands shook a little, as though he were stopping himself from immediately embracing her.

  “I have missed you also, but I cannot spend too much time with someone who is only tempting me into sin,” she replied. It was oddly liberating to be able to say these things to him. It was as though some sharp shards which were hurting her were being removed.

  “Why did you go so suddenly at the ball?” he asked, sounding genuinely hurt. “Was that because of what we have done? Because you could not be in the company of a man who at once loves you and can never marry you?”

  “That was... for a different reason,” she replied. “Although I suppose it relates.”

  “Please, tell me,” Lord Jones said. “I need to know.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw genuine despair. He wanted to be with her as badly as she wanted to be with him. But if he would not marry her, and be loyal to her, then it could never be. She shook her head. “It does not matter very much anymore, does it?” she replied.

  She wanted to tell him about everything. But how could she? Even thinking about what she had seen broke her heart. He had lied to her, betrayed her trust. And yet here he was again, pleading for her attention as though he had not kissed Clara, as though he were not still obsessed with her
.

  “It does matter to me,” he replied. “I would do anything to be able to be your friend again, even if nothing more.” His voice trailed off at these last words. But how could he ask for anything more after what he had done?

  “I... I am not sure we can only be friends. Especially after all that has occurred,” she said. She needed to get away from him. Even this conversation was driving her mind to sin.

  “If you do not wish to see me anymore just because you're courting princes and earls, I do not mind. But at least be honest with me,” he said coldly.

  “That is not the problem,” Lucy replied. “I am actually courting... nobody, right now.”

  “Your parents are inviting in another parade of suitors to try and coax you into marriage, then?” Lord Jones asked, forcing a slight smile.

  “Not at all. There is no man in my life. And there probably would never be,” she said. Could she tell him? She had to, did she not?

  His eyes lit up. “Then what is the problem? If you and I shall never marry, then there is nothing to intrude upon us. We shall be able to talk, and be friends, if nothing else.” She could tell he was already thinking about more than talking and friendship. She had to stop this.

  Lucy shook her head. “You do not understand... my parents think I may be happier in a convent.”

  Lord Jones paused, then smiled. “That is a good joke,” he said, laughing a little and shaking his head. “A very good joke. You had me fooled for a moment there...”

  Lucy just remained stoic and locked eyes with him sternly. He looked back into her eyes, searching for some hint that she was, as he hoped, joking.

  He stopped laughing. “You are being serious?” he said quietly.

  She nodded. “I am. It will not be for a few months yet, but my parents have given up all hope of me marrying, and have decided that at least I would remain virtuous and good and continue to contribute to society if I were a nun.”

  “Miss Fitzgerald, I have to say that is one of the most ridiculous ideas I have ever heard. A convent would in no way suit you,” he explained. “I do not see why your parents think it is a good idea. They are only doing this because they hope it will spare them the shame of having an unwed daughter.”

  Lucy huffed indignantly. “I shall have you know, Lord Jones, that they are making this choice because after so long in boarding school, they believe I am suited to such an environment.”

  “A convent is not a boarding school, though,” he replied. “They are very different places.”

  “I believe they are similar where it counts. I would be with other women, living independently, leading a structured, meaningful life,” she insisted.

  “It is not like that, though,” he carried on. “A life of religious devotion... I have seen it myself. First hand. Most of the people on the Mission are priests and monks and nuns. It is not the sort of life you want to lead.”

  “How would you know what suits me?” she replied indignantly. “You do not even know me.”

  Before he could say anything else, she turned around and stormed out into the church gardens.

  Chapter 23

  Lucy knew she should not have acted so defensively, but it came so intuitively to her. She had to defend it. Because at least her parents, when they decided on something, could carry it through. At least they had the determination and drive to see it to its conclusion.

  She could not allow him to disrespect her parents' decision for her, not when it was made with her best interests at heart. And especially not when she was unable to make a better choice of her own.

  Besides... it was not as though Lord Jones were leaping at the opportunity to marry her and save her from that fate. It was not as though he had dropped down on one knee and proposed, to save her from becoming a nun. He was just telling her not to, without offering her any alternative whatsoever.

  The fresh air in the garden was invigorating, although the sharpness of the wind and the billowing grey clouds on the horizon reminded her that summer was coming to an end. It felt strangely appropriate, that the heat and passion and beauty in the world were beginning to fade.

  She walked down the path. The roses had all wilted now, and only a few summer blooms remained. Looking up she could spy the odd yellow leaf in the trees. Change was coming. Soon the trees would be red, and then they would be bare. Likewise, she had swapped her elegant dresses for modest, even matronly clothes. And soon she would swap those for a habit. It was for the best, though.

  Hearing footsteps at the top of the garden, she wondered whether she should go back to the church. But the garden and the dying roses were calling to her, and the fresh air was clearing her mind. She continued walking. But the footsteps just got closer and closer. She had a pretty good idea who it was, but perhaps if she ignored him he would go back indoors.

  “Lucy, wait.”

  She turned around. It was Lord Jones again. She turned on her heels and let out an indignant exclamation before continuing to walk down the path.

  He did not get the message. He walked faster yet again, trying to catch up with her. He seized her hand. She pulled it away and continued walking, not once looking back at him. Then she heard the rustle through the grass as he ran past her, and all of a sudden he was in front of her. “Please, Lucy, just... please wait.”

  She pushed past him and carried on walking, starting down the slope towards the firs at the bottom of the garden. He did not give up.

  “Lucy, please listen to me,” he insisted. “I care about you. I truly do.”

  She stopped and turned around. He was still standing where he had been as she pushed him, this time looking down the garden at her, sorrow in his eyes.

  “You do not care about me. Not one ounce,” she replied.

  “Lucy, I truly do. You are my friend. I need to know that you are safe and well,” he insisted, walking towards her.

  “No, you only care about yourself. About your thoughts. Your feelings. Your needs. You expect me to act like you, to do as you do. Well I am nothing like you.”

  “Lucy, you are making a terrible mistake,” he insisted. “That life is not for you.”

  “If you actually cared about me you would be thinking about my future, about the life I need to lead in order to remain safe and happy,” she said. “I cannot remain unwed forever. I cannot survive on my own in this world. I need someone to care for me, even once my parents are gone.”

  “But you are an adult woman,” he replied, standing close to her. “You are strong, and smart. You may not have experience living in this world alone, but that is something you can collect over time. You will not be a free person if you choose that life.”

  Tears began streaming down her face. “You do not understand. I am not a woman. Maybe my body is, but not in here,” she touched her head, “or in here,” her hand rested on her heart. “Deep down... I am just a child.”

  He shook his head. “But you are not.”

  “But I am! I am indecisive, I am almost completely unaware of how the world at large works, I am unable to look after myself.” She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I cannot live alone, Lord Jones.”

  “Then... then get married. Our pact is not so serious, Lucy. If you are scared of being alone, then get married.” He ran a hand down the side of her face.

  For a moment, her heart floated. This was it. He was going to propose to her. He was going to ask for permission to save her, to whisk her away from life as a nun and make her the happiest woman alive. Lady Lucy Jones.

  “You can marry the Prince if you want,” he continued, “or the Earl. Or whoever you think is going to make your life easier.” He embraced her and it felt as though the world was coming to a standstill. “All I want is to make you happy,” he said, his voice shaking.

  She was not sure what to make of this. Was he proposing? Was he hinting at the possibility of marrying him? Or was he saying she could marry anyone she wanted... but not him? She deeply hoped that was not the case. Because it was
him, or it was nothing.

  There was one way of knowing for sure.

  She leaned her head back and pressed her lips to his. She had missed this. She had missed this beautiful sensation that overwhelmed her entire body. His lips were like sweet manna, bringing her to life. The whole world seemed suddenly brighter and warmer as she kissed him. She ran her fingers through his hair and moved her body closer to his. She needed him.

  As his hands raised to her waist, she felt herself swooning. She wanted to feel those big, strong hands all over her body. She wanted him to hold her closely and protect her from the world as they kissed. And then... he pushed her back, forcing them apart, breaking the kiss.

  She looked up. Had that just happened? Was he going to kiss her again, to hold her again? But no, he had a look of horror and disgust on his face. He shook his head slowly and sternly. Lucy stepped back, further away from him. She was in shock. He had pushed her away. Just like she had pushed Prince Ferdinand away. He was disgusted at her.

  “I-I thought that y-you... Y-you started this...” she stammered in disbelief. “You kissed me first.”

  “That was then. And this is now,” he replied. “Then... then we were both going to remain unwed. Now you are either to get married, or to become a nun. Either way, I cannot.”

  “Do you not love me?” she asked, the tears returning to her eyes.

  He looked to the floor. “Of course I love you. But I cannot claim what is not mine to claim. You belong to your husband, or to the church. Until then, you belong to your parents. You will never be mine. So I cannot act on my love for you.”

  “But I need to marry,” she replied. “I do not want to be a nun. I want to get married. And I love you.”

  He shook his head. “Lucy... this can never be. You can do whatever you please. Kiss princes, marry an earl, become a nun. But we can never be as one. You have to understand this.”

  “Are you so committed to never marrying?” she asked quietly.