~.~
Lord Whittondon was arrested. All the titles in the world couldn’t keep him out of prison.
When Addie heard the news she did not believe it at first. She sat, her hands clasped in her lap and listened as Constable McCreary detailed the arrest. Her mind raced. Words filtered through, desperate sentences. Lord Whittondon had blustered, and then tried to buy off the constables. In the end he’d yelled profanities and fought them as he’d been dragged from his club screaming that they would not arrest him if they knew who he was.
They knew, Addie reminded herself. The constables knew and had arrested him anyway. Justice served.
In the days that followed there came more arrests. The ring had been larger than they had supposed back in Upper Nettlefold. There had been several rather important people involved. Seemingly too many to count. Addie heard one other name she knew. Sir Frederick Turner. She felt a little sick and wondered what had happened to his sister, Rachel.
The Ton would never be the same, but it would recover.
It will be better, Addie reminded herself firmly because she had to believe that was so.
After Constable McCreary left, Addie retired to her room to pack. There had been many arguments about this course of action as well, but she was determined to leave. She would find a place to rent in Upper Nettlefold. There were good people there, people who understood. People who would not judge her by what had happened to her against her will. Maybe there she could at least have a home and allow her Uncle to live the remainder of his life in peace, without the stigma that would come of harboring her now that all of London knew her shame.
“I will go with you,” Uncle Elton said.
Addie looked up in surprise from where she stood at the wardrobe, trying to decide which of her dresses would be most suitable for life in a quiet country town. Her maid stood by, watching in fascination as the ball gowns were discarded in a growing pile as being too rich, too opulent to take.
Lord Livingsten stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane.
“I pray you repeat what you have said, for I mistakenly thought you expressed your wish to accompany me,” Addie said, letting her hand fall from the garment she was considering.
“I will not be separated from my family again.” Her uncle replied.
She stared at him, noting the way his lips compressed into a firm line, the rigid jaw. He meant what he said, and for once she had no argument, for truth be told she had not wanted to leave him behind.
“It is not a luxurious place,” she reminded him. “Though it is a dear town, and quite homey I suppose.”
“You are my family, Adelaide” he said. “Perhaps it is time I gave up luxury. What good is it, if it costs me that which is dearest to me?”
Addie ran to him then, throwing aside decorum with dresses and hugged her uncle hard enough to leave him wavering on his feet.
“What of your Mr. Ainsworth?” he asked as they parted.
What about Phineas? Addie hadn’t heard from him since the news broke and the talk had started. For a time, there had been a trickle of visitors, mostly those looking for more detail, salacious rumor-mongers hungry for more material. But even they had fallen away now that the story had expanded to include other names, even more interesting than the niece of Elton Waltham.
Addie swallowed hard. “I know nothing of Phineas,” she said finally and returned to her dresses, her hand hesitating over a luscious green dress with silver embroidery, like snow falling over a pine forest. “He has not spoken to me.”
“He will come around.”
How or why her uncle would think so, Addie would never know for the footman arrived with a letter upon a silver tray. No…not a letter. A summons. A beautiful gilt edged invitation requesting that Miss Constance Adelaide Waltham attend the Royal Christmas Eve Ball by personal request from the Queen Charlotte Herself.
9
Addie had never seen a true Christmas tree before in her life.
She stood now, staring at the towering pine so carefully decorated with blown glass ornaments nestled within the branches. With a hundred lit candles carefully placed within the branches these baubles sparkled, making the garlands of red berries, and other such ornaments take on a magical air. Standing next to a tree like that left Addie more firmly convinced than ever that anything could happen.
Almost.
She had felt the tacit withdrawal of the Ton. She wondered how many were aware she had been specially invited to this ball. Not many, she guessed, given their reaction to her. One acquaintance after another had turned their back on her when they’d seen her approach.
I will not care, she told herself firmly, but in truth she was staring at the tree though a sheen of tears.
“Miss Waltham.”
Of course Phineas would find her here. To think that two weeks ago she had been planning the perfect Christmas present for him. She loved him. She did, but he no longer loved her. How could he? For a long moment she stood there, blinking rapidly, telling herself not to cry. When she tried to speak she couldn’t find the words and had to clear her throat in order to release them from where they’d been imprisoned.
“You should not speak with me. Surely you have heard the kind of person I am now.”
“I have always known the kind of person you are, Addie” he said and his voice was so deep, so husky, that it burned away the ice she’d been trying to hold around her heart that it not break.
She wet her lips unsure of how to answer. She used to know how to have these conversations and now she did not. In the last few days she had lost not only the man she loved, but her best friend as well.
“Constance Adelaide Waltham, I want you to marry me.”
For a long moment she stood there. She’d forgotten how to breathe. When Addie turned, it was a wonder she remembered how. Phineas stood next to her, his dark eyes so intent that she could not take a single breath.
“Do you hear me, Addie? I want you to marry me.”
“You cannot mean that.”
That wasn’t what she had wanted to say, but Addie could no longer put her feelings into words. How did one describe the way a heart could ache so queerly, or how she could be both hot and cold in the same instant?
“I do. I will say it a third time if necessary. Adelaide, I want you to marry me.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The frozen pieces within her heart thawed a bit further. She shivered and found that maybe, just maybe her voice worked after all.
“You might have better results if you asked,” she said finally. “Rather than telling me like that. Most proposals are phrased as questions, you know?”
A smile tugged at Phineas lips. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them again. “If I leave the final decision up to you, you are likely to turn me down on principle. Where you are concerned, I have discovered it is better to state my intention.”
Addie was definitely smiling by now. “If you feel that to be true you might do better telling someone else. The woman there in the lavender perhaps. Or that one in blue.” She gestured to two dowagers with the fiercest expressions, ladies well known for their cruel commentary on the world around them.
Phineas shuddered. “Maybe I should ask.”
“You should most definitely ask.”
They stood facing each other. At some point he had taken her hands in his though she didn’t remember him doing so. It felt right though, more right than anything she’d ever felt in her life.
“Well are you going to ask then?” she asked as the silence between them lengthened.
“Give me a moment. I must work out the right words.”
Addie thought about this a moment. “Tell me you love me.”
“Are you proposing, or am I?” Phineas asked crossly.
“You are. I will be silent.” She simply stood and smiled at him.
They were attracting attention. It was as though everyone in the room knew exactly what was happening. Did she care? Oddly
enough, appearances did not mean as much to her as they had just days ago.
In fact, none of this mattered anymore. Only Phineas.
“I will marry you,” she said, letting the words spill out all in a rush.
“I have not asked you yet,” Phineas pointed out, stepping closer until they were only inches apart.
“Then ask.”
“But you have already said yes.”
“So?”
“So.” Phineas took the last stop. The one that put them so close as to be improper, at least until he pointed straight up and she saw the mistletoe hanging over their heads. Addie caught her breath as there, in front of the entire world he placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. He pulled her closer than was entirely proper and whispered against her mouth. “Miss Adelaide Waltham, I am in love with you. Will you marry me?”
“I –”
“Her Royal Majesty Charlotte, Queen of England requests the presence of both Miss Constance Adelaide Waltham and Mr. Phineas Ainsworth. If you both will come with me.”
The timing could not have been more atrocious. Two heads swiveled around to stare at the messenger, a man in royal livery who gestured toward the throne a short distance away.
Addie looked down at the green gown she wore. Her hands smoothed over the skirts. She could feel the trace of silver embroidery under her sweaty palms, even with her gloves on.
“Perhaps I should not answer your proposal until we find out why The Queen invited us here.”
“You. The Queen invited you here,” Phineas reminded her, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow, that he might escort her to see the most powerful woman in the world.
“She wants to throw me out of the country,” Addie moaned, her feet unable to move despite the way his hand pulled at hers.
“No one is ever exiled at a ball. They do that kind of thing privately.”
“I do not want to know how you know that,” she murmured. “Lead on then.”
But you will marry me,” he said and she laughed when she looked at him, for Phineas was in earnest.
“That rather depends on Her Majesty at this point,” she said, and with a laugh pulled him toward the throne. After all, it was not a good idea to keep The Queen waiting.
10
One would not expect the mother of fifteen children to look so beautiful, so radiant, so regal.
Queen Charlotte sat upon a throne, beside The Prince Regent. The Regent himself was distracted and bored, and paying little attention as they approached. Perhaps they should have been awed by that, but all Addie could think of was that Phineas had proposed.
They stopped where they were bid. Addie gave a deep curtsey. Beside her Phineas bowed.
The entire assembly was watching. She glanced at Phineas. The words popped out of her mouth unbidden.
“I love you.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Speak only when you were spoken to, she remembered. They had told her many things. That was the most important. Speak when you’re spoken to. Thank The Queen for her kindness and move on.
Instead, she had spoken out of turn and she had not even been talking to The Queen.
“I love you.” Addie said it again for good measure, because it seemed her mouth was running away without her. “And yes, I will marry you.” Then because they were being stared at…every person within radius to hear was staring at her, mouths agape, Addie clarified. “I was speaking to Phineas, Your Majesty. That is to say. He just proposed and then your man summoned us and…I had not had time to answer. I thought I should answer.”
The Queen’s rather delicate eyebrow lifted. Her mouth quirked up, her shoulders shaking as she fought…laughter. “And you will marry him?” she asked lightly.
“Yes, I will!”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw her Uncle clap a hand to his forehead and turn away. It was a wonder he did notaccidentally kick his cane out from under himself in his chagrin at Addie’s cheek.
“Then let us be the first to offer you our congratulations,” The Queen said, with a smile that was gentle and serene.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” They answered in unison. Phineas seemed…perplexed.
“We summoned you here, Miss Waltham, because you have done us a service in this matter of the former Lord Whittendon, and his grave misdeeds. We thank you.”
Former. So Whittendon had lost his title as well everything else, Addie noted. He would never be able to prey on anyone else ever again.
Addie curtseyed again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The Queen fastened her attention on Phineas who was tugging at his cravat as though it were too tight. “Mr. Ainsworth. For your part in this whole matter we would like to offer you a token of our appreciation.”
Phineas shot Addie a glance and bowed. “Truly, Your Majesty, I do not expect—”
Addie shot him a glance. Speak when spoken to. She expected Phineas to know that.
The Queen interrupted. “Mr. Ainsworth.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
She gestured to her son. “It pleases the Crown that you be knighted for your service,” she said. The words were said as Addie watched in amazement thinking now he truly was Sir Phineas Ainsworth. The crowd burst into applause. Addie was so proud of him. She wished she could bring his sister back to him, but this… She had hardly completed the thought when the crowd turned as one, and the footman announced: “Miss Louisa Ainsworth.”
“Finn!”
The shout came from behind them. They turned in unison. Addie had only a glimpse of the girl, a tall slender figure with hair as dark as Phineas, with his same dark star-filled eyes.
The entire room seemed to be holding its breath.
Phineas swayed on his feet. The blood drained from his face, and for a moment Addie thought he might faint. “Louisa…” Then he was running, laughing and crying as he swept the girl into his arms. “Louisa!”
“His sister,” Addie murmured and glanced back at The Queen, surprised to see that even queens cried, for there were tears upon the royal cheeks. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She curtseyed again for good measure.
The Queen looked at her, and Addie saw for the first time the deep sadness of one who carried a heavy burden. Addie wondered if she loved her husband the king and grieved for his loss of sanity. “Would that it had not taken so long to root out the culprit,” the Queen murmured quietly. She smiled at Addie and said, “Are you truly engaged? Shall we announce?”
“Yes,” Addie answered. “I—we would be honored.” She glanced at Phineas. “I love him,” she said.
The Queen waved a footman nearby, and spoke softly to him. He turned and announced their engagement to the gathered company: “Sir Phineas Ainsworth and his betrothed, Miss Constance Adelaide Waltham.”
Addie had eyes only for Phineas who was still holding his sister as if he might lose her again.
Epilogue
Eventually Phineas had to let go of his sister.
Louisa had others with whom she wished to speak. The surprise had been, that even knowing her history, there still had been those waiting to welcome her. She had been Whittendon’s unwilling mistress for over a year. Only The Queen could make that detail unimportant, and she had done so.
When Phineas found a moment to breathe he looked for the one thing he’d needed in his life all along. His future bride greeted him with a smile.
“You are a hero of the realm now, Sir Ainsworth,” Addie said, and he smiled back for he loved her teasing.
“And you, my dear, are free to return to the Ton. They could not reject you now, I think, not with The Queen’s blessing,” he replied cautiously.
“Does that mean you are rethinking your question?”
“Are you rethinking your answer?”
They looked at each other, realized at the same time the ridiculousness of their conversation and laughed.
“You will not be rid of me that easily,” Addie informed him, taking his hand and pulling him close, tucking the arm a
round her as they stood and watched the snow.
“I should never want to.”
“Well, that’s good since the Queen herself announced our engagement.”
She gazed at him losing herself in his starry dark eyes. He regarded her warmly. They both looked up.
“No mistletoe,” she whispered.
“Not necessary,” he responded and bent his head to kiss her tenderly. “It is a miracle. You are my miracle.” he whispered against her lips.
She sighed happily. No mistletoe needed. “I love you,” she whispered, and Phineas deepened their kiss. He did not care who saw them. Neither did Addie. After all, they were to be married, The Queen Herself had offered her congratulations.
Come the New Year they would be Sir and Lady Ainsworth and nothing could have made Addie happier.
Continue reading for a sneak seek of…
The Healing Heart ~ Mercy
by Isabella Thorne
and
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The next Nettlefold Chronicles:
Faith’s story
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1
Mercy was not well-trained in the female art of conversation. Her father had preferred her silent and biddable. Now she found herself ill-equipped for polite conversation, both from her own introversion and from the general isolation in which the Baggington daughters had been raised. Mercy felt more inclined to sit in a pleasurable silence than boisterous chatter. Once again, she thought that Simon ought to have brought the twins. They were lively and talkative. Perhaps they might be better at finding a common ground with General Bradley.
Not Quite a Lady; Not Quite a Knight Page 8