In Marcella’s opinion, it was the perfect country chapel to get married in. The doors opened as they arrived before them, and then her sister’s began to file into the chapel one by one.
Flora led the way as she threw lots of flower petals everywhere down the aisle. The rest of the Stansfield sister’s followed her in order of youngest to oldest.
Bernice, Lucinda, and then Lydia.
They were all dressed in a whitened Chantilly lace bridesmaid dresses with pasque flowers sewn onto them. They looked like a parade of heavenly, yet mischievous, angels.
Lady Stansfield then followed behind Lydia with a pleased smile on her face.
When it was time for Marcella’s turn to walk down the aisle with her father, she turned to him and said, “I am so glad that you are here by my side father.”
Lord Stansfield had been a wreck the whole week leading up to the wedding. He was about to marry off his first daughter. That, along with the miracle of earning back Marcella’s love and affection just in time for this special occasion, was a gift from above.
Lord Stansfield squeezed Marcella’s hand and kissed it, “As am I my dear, you found a good man who loves you, and I know that he’ll always keep you happy, and most importantly safe.”
Her father then settled her right hand onto his sleeve, and took in a very deep breath in order to stop himself from crying.
Marcella knew that her father was right about her future husband. Lord Alexander Maximus Westbrook was a man who kept his word, and he would do anything to keep Marcella safe.
Alexander had become her best friend, and the love of her life. He was full of both kindness, and love. That was all Marcella had ever wanted in a husband, and in a father for her future children.
He was all she’d ever wished for.
This was it, Marcella was walking into the chapel and into her future with her father Lord Ernest Edward Virgil Stansfield by her side. Today was her last day as a Stansfield, and in a manner of hours she would become a Westbrook.
She couldn’t wait for that moment.
Marcella looked around the chapel as she walked down the aisle and smiled as she saw all of their friends and family members standing in their respective pews. They were all smiling at her as she looked their way.
The Pinkerton’s were all respectively there, as were all of the Dover’s. Emilia and her brother Gabriel, the Marquess of Lyon were upfront on the right hand side next to Lady Scarlett Westbrook.
Christopher was there too, and he was standing right beside the Marquess. He looked his kind, but distant. Marcella then looked back to the left of the chapel to made eye contact with Louisa, who smiled back at her with reassurance.
All of the people in this chapel had befriended her with open arms at a difficult time, and now they had all turned into a large part of her ever-growing family.
Looking back up the aisle, Marcella noticed that the priest was also smiling at her. He was a happy old man with bold dimples that popped through his chubby cheeks, and a head full of white fluffy hair that looked a lot like a halo.
Halfway down the aisle, the string quartet began to play a new melody, and Marcella peered on ahead to lock eyes with her dashingly handsome future husband.
Marcella and Lord Stansfield walked the remainder of the aisle and then paused right in front of an exquisitely dressed Alexander.
He wore a tailored black suit jacket with a deep red cravat and ruby buttons. His hair was attractively slicked back, and his blue eyes were shining brighter than ever.
Father Arnold then directed Lord Stansfield to shake hands with Lord Westbrook and then merrily give away his eldest daughter.
Alexander then took Marcella’s hand and brought her up a couple of steps towards the altar table. Marcella interlocked her right fingers with Alexander’s left fingers as they stood side by side before all their family and friends in the chapel.
“You look exquisite Marcella, you’re my life and my forever.” Alexander whispered.
She blushed, “As are you my darling.”
Marcella then giggled as she felt his fingers tickling her wrist. He lowly chuckled just for her to hear, and she loved it when he did that just for her. No one else could ever hear him, but she always could.
Father Arnold started the ceremony, and before the vows took place, he offered up his sincere opinion of the couple and their impeccable union.
“Having known this young man since his birth, and having met this beautiful woman over a months time now, I can truly say to this dear congregation, and in this house of God, that these two people were meant to be together. I have never encountered such a loving couple that compliment each other so well, both in height and heart.”
Everyone laughed at Father Arnold’s sweet joke about their height, and then the holy man continued, “I bless them both wholeheartedly today, and I sincerely pray that the rest of their days may be bound in an everlasting love. Amen to them, amen to the lord who blesses this union, and Amen to us all for witnessing it.”
The ceremony was quick after that, yet tender, and full of much adoration after that.
Before they knew it, they had made their honorable vows, and shared their first kiss as man and wife. As the newlyweds exited the chapel, they were showered with a mixture of fragrant flower petals from Cambridge and Hertford.
Alexander and Marcella ran over to their open carriage, which had been prettily designed with interwoven white ribbons.
It was Lady Scarlett’s idea, and Marcella had loved it. Come to think of it, Marcella had loved all of Lady Scarlett’s ideas for the wedding.
Not so many women were fortunate to end up with a mother-in-law whom they actually liked, perhaps even loved. Marcella was blessed to have such an elegantly stylish, and kindhearted woman like Lady Scarlett as her mother-in-law.
As Alexander and Marcella got into their open carriage, they waved goodbye to their friends and family. Shouts of innumerable congratulations were bellowed into the air as the carriage rode off for the family estate.
Once out of sight, they sat back holding hands, and simply breathed in the autumn air. They both wore welsh golden wedding bands on their left hands to symbolize their eternal love. Alexander kissed her ringed finger as Marcella nuzzled into his chest.
It was a short carriage ride back to the Westbrook Estate, back to their home, and Marcella couldn’t be happier. She had fallen in love with this place, and all its inhabitants as well. There was so much love looming in the air ever since she arrived here.
She looked up at Alexander and sweetly said to him, “Hello, husband.”
He smiled back at her, “Hello, wife.”
They kissed gently at first, but then something came afire between them and that made them both want to go at it like raving animals. However, Marcella knew that this was not the time nor place to lose control.
She pulled back slightly, but Alexander continued to lavish his kisses elsewhere, trailing from her forehead to her neck.
She laughed, as she grabbed his hands, “Alexander, I have to tell you something.”
The urgency in Marcella’s voice made Alexander stop his tenacious bout of kisses.
He worriedly looked at her and asked, “What’s happened Marcella? What’s wrong? Has someone tried to hurt you?”
She shook her head, “No! I’m fine, we’re fine my darling. Don’t worry about that. I have an announcement to make.”
Confusion spread across Alexander’s face as she reached for her stomach and let her hand drift about the area, “I think we both knew what lovemaking without any protection could lead to, and I can now tell you for certain that we are expecting our first Westbrook baby.”
Alexander’s face froze at first, which concerned Marcella for a brief moment, but then the biggest smile formed on his face and she knew that all would be well.
Marcela loved the way his eyes elatedly crinkled as he looked back and forth from her face to her stomach. It was so charming.
“Are yo
u certain?” Alexander queried Marcella with great enthusiasm.
“Yes, I’m certain.” Marcella replied.
Alexander kissed her without warning, showering Marcella with all of his emotions. Their tongues tangled with one another in an amorous battle as the worshiped each other with lively exuberance. They’d almost forgotten that they were out in the open.
As the carriage came to a stop in front of the Westbrook Estate, Alexander jumped out of it and down onto the graveled path with a jovial spring to his step. He then picked up Marcella from her seat and cradled her close to his chest as he walked through the front doors of their forever home.
With Marcella’s body in his arms, Alexander looked into her meadow-green eyes, and said, “Are you ready for this?”
Marcella knew right away what her answer would be for her darling husband’s wonderful question.
“With you my Alexander, always.”
Alexander kicked the front doors of their family estate house wide open and carried his wife over the threshold to present her to the servants who were all lined up inside the house. Boisterous clapping and delightful cheering ensued for the master and new mistress of the house.
These were their first steps as Lord and Lady Westbrook of Cambridgeshire. Their future together started right now. They loved deeply, adored their family and friends ardently, and their loyalty held no bounds.
The next few years to come, their friends would battle against Lord Graves’s three remaining murderers. Those cowardly men stood no chance against these virtuous ladies and rakish lords.
Hate never truly prevailed.
In May of 1851, Alexander and Marcella welcomed their firstborn son.
Lord Maximus Alexander Westbrook.
The magnificent Max was a healthy baby boy born with heterochromia. His right eye was a sapphire blue, and his left eye was an emerald green. He resembled his parents both in height and charm.
A few years after Max was born, five more Westbrook children would come into the world. There was Scarlett Rowena, Edward Louis, Rose Florence, William Oliver, and Poppy Grace.
To Alexander’s excitement, all three of his daughters had been born with vibrant red hair, just like their darling mother. His house was now full of wild redheaded women.
The Westbrook’s had become a large family, just as Marcella had predicted that fateful day in Ms. Janice’s studio.
That lone day in London had changed everything for Lord Alexander Maximus Westbrook and Lady Marcella Stansfield. They were a match made in heaven after all, and it was all because they had both been tempted by curiosity.
The End
Coming soon…
Book II from: A Virtuous Ladies & Rakish Lords Series…
Christmas With The Dover’s
Here’s a sneak peek…
Prologue
Hampshire, England 1845
The Dover’s Winchester Estate
March of 1845, Early Springtime
It was a wet morning in Hampshire. Last nights storm had brought upon a glorious heap of rain, and Charlotte knew that the garden would be roaring with its natural beauty this morning. Her mother’s birthday was coming up and she had the perfect gift in mind for her sweet mama, a painting of one of her mother’s favorite things, her garden.
Charlotte was an early bird, and she knew that there was a slim chance of anyone being awake at this hour of the morning. She snatched up her art supplies, her apron, and her happy attitude. All she needed now was her old easel. She left her room and hopped down the stairs, she came face to face with her favorite person in the household staff, Paulson the Butler.
“Good Morning Paulson!”
“Good morning Lady Charlotte! Would you like some assistance?”
“Yes please, if you could have someone fetch my easel and place it on the back patio by the library’s open doors that would be much appreciated.”
“Of course my lady, would you also like a maid to serve you up a tray of tea and crumpets?”
“That would be delightful! Thank you Paulson, you always know exactly what I want.”
“That is my job my lady, I’ll have a footman retrieve your easel and we shall meet you on the back patio.”
Charlotte thanked Paulson once more, and then skipped away towards the library. She loved to frolic about the house, especially when no one was around. She was approaching her destination and she started to get all excited. She walked through the doors of the library, easing past the piano and than pushing the patio doors wide open.
It was a slightly humid morning, but it would have to do. She needed to start her charcoal sketch before she painted over it with her pastels. She looked at the direction of the sun and calculated where her easel would be best situated.
Natural light was always a bonus for a painter.
It always showed the artist the truth, in Charlotte’s opinion it did.
She found the perfect spot and stood in it, seconds later two footmen were bringing her the easel that she requested. It was her late grandmother’s easel. Charlotte had never met her fraternal grandmother, but her father always compared her to her.
She was a kind petite woman with an artist’s soul, just like Charlotte.
Charlotte wished that she could have had at least the slightest chance to meet the woman, they would have been the best of friends. She could feel that truth in her heart.
Charlotte didn’t have that many friends here in Hampshire, or in London either. She didn’t really have any friends. She had always been friendly to the young ladies that she had met at various country house parties, and even at her mother’s tea gatherings. Nonetheless, they all claimed her to be too mousy and uninteresting. Charlotte scoffed at that, she did find herself plain but she was surely not uninteresting.
She enjoyed the arts, and to her the arts were far more than interesting.
They were her life’s purpose.
After the footmen had set up her easel, they left her to her peace and she began humming a little folk song that she had heard the maids singing.
A couple moments passed and Charlotte realized that she had been staring out at the massive gardens before her blankly. She had to get to work.
Time was of the essence.
She set the canvas that she had brought with her in its rightful place on the easel, then she popped her art box wide open. She surveyed her colors and knew exactly which ones were the best to be used for such a painting. She grabbed for her art apron and settled it onto her person.
She tied it back but the darn thing kept loosening every time she tied it.
Charlotte groveled, “Blasted thing, I don’t have time for such nonsense.”
“Would you like some assistance with that blasted thing?” A slightly deep voice teased from behind her.
She would know that voice anywhere, it was him. Her brother’s most handsome friend from university. Lord Thomas Marcus Kingston.
She took in a quick breath before she turned to face him.
“Good morning Lord Thomas, I didn’t know you liked to wake up this early in the morning.”
“I love the natural morning light, also I could hear your melodic voice from down the hall this morning as I was headed over to the kitchens for something to eat. Are you always so cheerful when you rummage through your art supplies?”
Charlotte was happily shocked, had he read her mind about the importance of natural light? Also, he had heard her humming?
She didn’t want to seem like a child so she answered with confidence.
“I too adore natural light, I tend to wake up earlier than a majority of the household. I’ve always been like this, ever since I was a little girl. I just love the beauty of the morning. As for your art question, yes...I’m very fascinated by my art supplies.”
“It’s quite a remarkable thing, to be so drawn to the arts. I wish I had some sort of artistic ability in my body.”
“I’m sure you must, perhaps you just haven’t found a particular art base
d interest yet. There are so many different arts. There is singing, playing an instrument, acting, painting, sketching, and sculpting. The list goes on and on.”
“Perhaps, I do adore your optimism.”
Charlotte blushed, she needed to start working. He had distracted her to the point of no return, she turned away from him slightly. She hoped that he wouldn’t find her too rude by turning her back on him, but she needed to concentrate. She almost laughed at that thought, she couldn’t concentrate when he was around her.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He said sincerely.
She looked over her shoulder at him with a coy smile, “What question would you be referring to my lord?”
“Your apron my lady, would you like some help with it?”
“Oh, my apron. Well yes actually, I could use some help tying the old thing back, but I’ll wait for the maid who’s bringing me some tea. I wouldn’t want to bother you with such a trivial matter.”
“She’ll be a few more minutes, the maid that is. I presume you wish to begin your art project sooner rather than later, surely that’s what you would want as an artist who values the morning light.”
She wanted to refuse him right away, but he had found her weakness. Charlotte did want to start her sketching as soon as possible. He was a sly one, she would have to watch out for this one.
She gave in with a huff, “Oh alright, you can help me.”
He smiled at her with a wolfish grin, his small icy blue eyes caught her hazel ones in an instance. She could feel a spark of energy that reverberated through them. Did he feel it too?
Eyes were known as the windows to the soul, and Charlotte knew that she would love to the opportunity to paint those eyes of his in a portrait one day.
She shook her head, this was not the time to daydream about a lord’s eyes.
Charlotte turned back to her canvas, but before she could even think of what to do next, he came closer to her and she could smell him instantly.
Tempted by Curiosity Page 30