Regency Engagements Box Set

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam

  “I can see that you are truly changed, Bastien.” Miss Truwin’s voice was a little muffled, but Jasper did not move back nor try to remove her from his arms so that he might hear her better. He wanted to stay here, to linger here for as long as he could such was the joy and relief coursing through his veins.

  “You did not even hesitate when Lord Winthorpe asked you for your help,” Miss Truwin continued, her hands reaching up around his neck and her head lifting so that she might look into his eyes. “You told him outright that you would not. You told him of your own errors and insisted that he would only regret what he was doing.” Her eyes were shining, her lips curving into a joyous smile. “I know for certain that you have turned your back on such ways, that you have nothing but regret and sorrow for what you attempted to do.”

  “I have nothing but regret,” he promised her. “If I could change things in the past, then I would do so without hesitation.” Looking deeply into her eyes and realizing the depth of what he felt for her compared to what he had once believed was love, he captured her face in his hands and lowered his head. “To have you by my side, willing to listen, willing to forgive, and now willing to trust is a gift that I shall never deserve, my love.”

  “And yet, my heart is yours,” she whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair. “You have proven yourself changed and now I can have hope that one day, my love for you shall be returned.”

  Jasper closed his eyes, bent his head and kissed her. The moment their lips met, his whole body roared to life, his heart pounding furiously with such joy pouring through him that he felt as though he had been taken to heaven. She responded to his kiss with such fervor that he could almost feel the love she had for him and could not help but respond in kind. Breathless, he had to pull away, breaking their kiss and seeing the way her eyes shone as she looked up into his face.

  “I hope that you know now, Miss Truwin, that there is more than just a gentle affection for you within my heart,” he whispered, caressing her cheek tenderly. “It is love that resides there. A love that will go on for the rest of our days together, growing stronger and with ever increasing fervor. I shall never forget this moment, Miss Truwin, the moment I knew that our hearts beat as one.”

  She smiled at him, reaching up to brush her fingers through the hair at his temples, her expression soft. “I do believe you may call me ‘Andrea’ now, Bastien,” she whispered, teasing him gently. “Such an intimacy is permitted between two who are soon to be wed.”

  “And I cannot wait until that day comes,” he murmured, his arms tightening about her once again. “For to make you my bride will be a joy as yet unknown. You are utterly glorious, my dear Andrea, and I love you with all of my heart.”

  The End

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  About the Author

  Charlotte Fitzwilliam was raised in Manchester, England and graduated from University in London with a Masters of English, which focused on 18th Century and Romantic Studies. Her passion since young adulthood was reading and writing romantic regency stories.

  Charlotte feels like she is living a dream life as she often brings coffee or tea to the country side. She sits beneath a tree with her laptop to dream and write about proud dukes and ladies in long dresses falling in love.

  Dedicated to

  Dawn W.

  You are an amazing aunt, and I hope to be more like you. You embody the Proverbs 31 woman and are a Godly example to me and other woman of how we can strive to be Christ-like in everything we do.

  I pray the Lord blesses every part of your life.

  1

  “Congratulations, Brother!”

  Sophie, the youngest daughter of the Marquess of Barchester, smiled as her elder brother practically beamed at her, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

  There was a delightful breeze blowing against the pink and red bloomed roses atop the wedding trellis located behind the cathedral, and petals floated in the air on this warm, spring afternoon. The green grass was soft beneath her feet, as Sophie’s yellow, twilled, French silk dress swept over it. She looked forward as she walked, and then she smiled again at him to listen, as her white glove held her dark hair out of her ivory face.

  “This is truly one of the happiest moments of my life,” he said, taking Sophie’s hand. “Would that you could find such a similar situation, my dear sister.”

  Shaking her head, Sophie laughed and waggled a finger in Victor’s direction. “That is quite enough of that! If you are not careful, you will begin to sound like Mama, Victor! She is already trying to encourage both myself and Juliette to consider various suitors whom she insists on pressing onto us.”

  Her brother chuckled, his blue eyes alive with happiness. “She just wants the best for you.” He tilted his head and smiled, pressing her hand. “Promise me you will not close your mind off to everyone she introduces you to, Sophie. I know how stubborn you can be.”

  Sophie bit her lip, not wanting to promise such a thing, but, as the seconds ticked by, it became more and more obvious that her brother was not about to let her go without her agreement.

  “Very well,” she muttered, as he laughed and dropped her hand. “But I will not be pushed into matrimony, Brother. I would have a marriage such as your own. I can practically see the love you have for Miss Catherine shining out from your heart.”

  Victor gave her a lopsided smile, his cheeks a little flushed. “I am very blessed to have found one who loves me in return,” he replied, his gaze drifting over Sophie’s shoulder towards his bride, who was talking to Victor’s mother. “Ours is a rather uncommon story, I believe. Much more likely that you will find a suitable match, as opposed to a love match, my dear sister.”

  Sophie shook her head vehemently. “No, I will not settle for that. It will be love or nothing.” She looked up to the blue sky filled with puffy white clouds as if wishing on a star, and passion consumed her face.

  Victor chuckled and patted her on the shoulder, making to move away towards his new wife. “Then I promise you now that you shall always have a living with me, so that you may live your spinsterhood just as you please,” he said, laughing. “Do excuse me, Sophie.”

  “Of course,” Sophie murmured, her heart lifting as she saw how he took his wife’s hand and pressed a kiss to it. She was truly delighted for him.

  Whilst her brother already held the title of the Earl of Swannell, he would one day inherit her father’s title and become the new marquess, and so his words meant more to her than perhaps he realized. Her father, whilst a quiet man, could often be rather insistent, and his desire that all three of his children would wed had become rather important of late. Sophie hoped that he would not be as insistent now that his son and heir had found himself a bride – for surely they would have children of their own soon – but she rather considered that it would not be the case. As the youngest of her father’s children, she might be able to put off her father and mother’s repeated calls for her to consider her future for a time, for Juliette was surely to come first.

  Sophie’s brow furrowed as she turned around to see her older sister gazing at her with a rather curious expression. It was a look of frustration mingled with sheer dislike, which did not surprise Sophie in the least, given that her sister did not care for S
ophie. It had always been a rather unfortunate situation, for Sophie had always wanted a friend to confide in — and who better than a sister – but Juliette had become rather cold of late. At times, it was as though Juliette hated Sophie with all her might—although Sophie had never been able to find out why there was such ill feelings between them both. Sophie had her father’s blue eyes and dark hair, whereas Juliette was much more handsome with her mother’s fair curls and sparkling green eyes. In fact, whenever the sisters attended a function together, it was Juliette who had her dance card filled first, Juliette who caught the eye of the eligible gentlemen in the room. She was able to laugh and smile and delight all those around her—whereas Sophie preferred to cling to the shadows.

  Looking away from her sister, Sophie made her way towards her brother and his new wife, smiling at Catherine as she approached. Miss Catherine Bankston had been a wonderful match for her brother, for she came from a family of both fortune and good breeding and would make a wonderful marchioness when the time came. Her parents approved, of course, and Sophie thought that the lady in question was one of the most delightful she had ever had the opportunity to meet. However, it was the love between them that brought happiness to Sophie’s heart. Victor had always been the kind of man to choose duty over his own heart, but he had managed to satisfy both quests the day he had met Miss Catherine Bankston. Sophie would miss her brother’s company, for he was to take his new bride to his private estate in the country. He and Sophie had always been close, and his absence would leave a rather large hole in Sophie’s life—although she refused to allow herself to linger on that emotion on such a happy occasion.

  “You must come and stay with us soon,” the new Lady Swannell began, catching Sophie’s hands. “Do say that you will.”

  Sophie laughed and kissed her new sister-in-law’s cheek. “I would be delighted. Although is it not some months until you return from honeymoon?”

  “Six weeks, I believe,” Lady Swannell replied with a warm smile. “I shall write to you the moment we have returned so that you might make arrangements. After all, I know how close you are with your brother.”

  “You are very kind,” Sophie answered softly. “I will not pretend that I will not miss you both, but I am very happy for you, truly. I am already looking forward to a visit.”

  “And it will be close to the end of the Season by that time, so you will have no reason not to prolong your visit,” Lady Swannell replied happily. She pressed Sophie’s hand for another moment before releasing it. “That is unless you have found yourself a suitor by then!”

  Sophie rolled her eyes and laughed, glad that they had forged enough of a friendship for her to be honest with Lady Swannell. “I highly doubt it, Lady Swannell. You should know now that I care very little for such things unless the gentleman in question has thoughts of love in his heart.”

  Lady Swannell started for a moment, catching herself. “I am still becoming used to my new title,” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “And you must refer to me as Catherine, just as before. We are friends, are we not?”

  Sophie smiled. “Yes, of course. Then ‘Catherine’ it shall remain.”

  Lady Swannell made to say more but was soon borne away by her new husband, and within a few minutes, the carriage containing the happy couple rolled away. They were headed to the Marquess of Barchester’s one-hundred-twenty-seven-acre country estate, which contained over twenty acres of gardens. Sophie and the rest of her family would follow after, via the avenue of lime trees that led to the marvelous three-story structure with Corinthian pillars where their wedding breakfast would be held before they left for their honeymoon.

  “A wonderful ceremony, was it not?” Sophie’s mother breathed, looping her arm through Sophie’s and beginning to walk. “I can only hope that I will be able to experience such a joy once more.” Sophie’s mother stood still and turned toward Sophie and looked into her eyes. “Very soon,” her mother added while trying to judge Sophie’s reaction to her words.

  Sophie bit back a sigh and tried to smile. “Indeed, Mama. I am quite sure Juliette will be able to find herself a suitable husband by the end of the Season, for she has already a great number of acquaintances, does she not?”

  Her mother’s arm tightened on her own as the two began to walk once more. “Sophie, do not try and distract me. I mean for you both to wed, as you well know. Juliette may be the eldest of my daughters but that does not mean you cannot find a husband also. After all, she is only a year older, and you are both out. Another month or so is more than enough time for you to find a suitable husband. Anyone of good breeding and a decent fortune will do. That cannot be too difficult, Sophie.”

  Sophie chose to keep her mouth closed, knowing that anything she might say would not be good enough for her mother. A month was no time at all, as far as she was concerned, and certainly not long enough to get to know a gentleman’s character and temperament. She would not be forced into putting a ring on her finger and binding herself to a gentleman she barely knew!

  “I have been invited to stay with Victor once they have returned from honeymoon,” she said quietly, as they climbed into the carriage. “I do hope you will allow me.”

  Her mother sniffed and looked away. “That all depends, Sophie,” came the reply. “If you have a few suitors, then a visit will be absolutely out of the question. I would have thought you would understand that.”

  Her hands slowly curling into fists, Sophie closed her eyes and let out a long breath, trying to quell her frustration. “But of course, Mama,” she replied through gritted teeth. “I understand completely.”

  2

  One month later in London.

  Sophie stood next to the patterned flock wallpaper in the ballroom and managed to smile as an overly large gentleman of considerable girth took her dance card and wrote his name in for not one, but two dances. She looked at the high ceiling with her hands behind her back while trying her best not to shudder. Sophie kept her back ramrod straight as he stepped away, a wide grin on his face. Apparently, he was more than delighted with the opportunity to dance with her, and seeing the gleam in her mother’s eye, Sophie could tell that she, too, thought it a wonderful prospect.

  If only Sophie could see it in such a way.

  “Thank you, Lord.…” Sophie trailed off whilst asking for the gentleman’s last name.

  “Matthews,” came the sharp reply, the smile fading from the gentleman’s face as he frowned in her direction. “Lord Matthews, Lady Sophie. I look forward to dancing with you later.” His face showed that he had understood her ignorance of his name to be an impertinence.

  Sophie did not return the compliment, and as Lord Matthews stepped away, her mother hurried to take his place, her eyes a little angry.

  “Sophie, you must stop this nonsense! Pay attention, will you not? Lord Matthews is not a man to be insulted.”

  Sophie sat down on a bench near the wall and crossed her thin ankles. “Lord Matthews is not someone I would consider as a potential husband, Mama,” Sophie replied truthfully. “So, I need not worry about him, do I?” Sophie smiled, as she looked up at her mother so as not to give the appearance to onlookers that there was a disagreement in the room.

  Her mother’s lips tightened, but after a moment of silence, she turned on her heel and walked away as she also knew it was unspeakable to discuss this in public, much to Sophie’s relief.

  “My, my, are you not pushing everyone away on this delightful evening?”

  Hearing Juliette’s voice, Sophie closed her eyes briefly, knowing that her sister was here to be nothing more than spiteful. “I thought you would be enjoying the ball, Juliette.”

  “Oh, I am,” Juliette replied, looking down at Sophie. “But then I saw you being approached by Lord Matthews, and I simply had to come and see what it was he said to you.” She tilted her head, her eyes filled with malice. “Did he want to propose already? I would accept him if I were you, Sophie. There is no guarantee you will get a better offer.”<
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  Sophie’s heart ripped, even though she had been determined not to let her sister get to her. “Whatever is wrong with you, Juliette? There is no need for such talk.” Sophie stood up so that she could speak in a quieter voice that only her sister could hear.

  “Can you not tell that I want you out of my life?” Juliette hissed, stepping forward so that she was even closer to Sophie. “The sooner you are married and out of my house, the better.”

  “Our father’s house,” Sophie corrected, trying to calm the ripple of anger making its way through her. “That house does not belong to you any more than it belongs to me. And if you are so worried about being away from me for good, then I suggest you find yourself a husband first.” She arched one eyebrow, unable to keep the mocking words from her lips. “I hear Lord Matthews is looking for a bride.”

  Sophie stepped away as soon as she finished speaking, not wanting to be in her sister’s company any longer. Juliette’s vehemence had grown of late—although Sophie had never quite been able to work out why. She made her way through the crowd of guests, desperate to get to one of the quieter areas of the ballroom. Her vision blurred with hot tears, pain growing steadily in her chest.

  “Is that sister of yours giving you trouble?”

  Sophie stopped dead, realizing she had been just about to walk straight into her father, who, much to her surprise, was standing at the back of the ballroom and watching all the goings on.

  “Papa,” she began, her voice a little hoarse. “I thought you would be in the card room.”