She lifted her head, surprised he had heard her. The moonlight danced on her face again. Flustered, she said. “By my standards, I am. I am quite a meticulous being.” She turned to him and tried to make out his face but the light from behind made her effort fruitless. Somehow, he stood on the spot where she couldn’t see him, maybe on purpose. “I can't handle alcohol well,” she continued, “but tonight I am on the bridge, questioning if to cross.” She smacked her lips and whispered. “Maybe I will. That might just be enough for Aunt Marrily to leave me be.”“You don’t enjoy parties? Or is it this particular ball you are against?” He drank from his glass.She thought for a moment. “This ball is amazing, and parties are wonderful, but my ever-forward and free-spirited Aunt has introduced me to every gentleman in that room.” She threw her head in the direction of the ballroom. “I think I have had my fair share for a lifetime.”“That cannot be true.” She turned to him. “You weren’t introduced
This time she laughed lightly, her hand still over her mouth. “I suppose one does, for your sake.” She leaned again on the railing, this time, putting up enough distance between them. “The view from up here is beautiful.”She commented, he said nothing. After a while, “You are Carlisle.” He looked to her. “On the hill, why did you say you were an only child?”He looked away. “Because I am. ““You mentioned both parents. You only have a Mother.”Nothing.Maybe she had been rude. The silence that followed was at first unnerving and scary, but soon it brought comfort, as they listened to the music flowing in from the ballroom and the gay laughter of men and women. Beth closed her eyes and nodded her head slowly to the beat, enjoying it as much as she couldn’t when she was in the ballroom. The breeze swayed the garden's trees again, but she was content enough to not care about anything.He tapped the railing twice. “How is your wound?”She opened her eyes. “What wound?”“From this morning.
She inclined her head, struggling to keep her emotions at bay. “Hate is a strong word.”“And yet not strong enough to convey the feelings you harbour against him.” She looked away, shaken that he could see through her. “Did he pursue you with dishonourable intentions?”“No!” She wished it had been her. He should have pursued her so.“Were you abandoned at the altar?” He threw his cigar to the ground and crushed it.She exhaled deeply. “Please, Your Grace, It was nothing of the sort. Believe me.” His hoarse voice, rather than annoy her with the badger of questions like the morning before, appeased her for he wasn’t a sycophant trying to please. And why should he try to please her? He was higher than her in wealth, status and in every possible way.When she lifted her head, he was walking closer, she oddly stepped back, unsure of the reason for her action. He stopped and said. “I am intrigued. What was it?”“Please, Your Grace, I mean no disrespect, but I would rather not dwell on that
The sound of the opening door woke Charles from his sleep. With the interval balance of the footsteps, coupled with the implicit knowledge that none other would visit his bedroom without his permission, especially when he was in, he knew right away that it was Albert, his valet.Charles opened his eyes slightly and saw the young man pulling back the curtains. "Did she make it?" His voice was broken from sleep and almost inaudible.Albert was startled. "Your Grace, I am sorry to disturb your sleep. I only wanted to draw back the curtains." He bowed.Charles turned to lay supine, ignoring the apology. "Black? How is she?"Albert stood upright, held his hands together. "As was feared, Your Grace, she passed away last night. The stable hand said it was painless and peaceful."The covers fell to his hips as he sat up. Albert quickly rushed to him, picking up his robe and helping him put it on. "Death is never painless. Peaceful maybe, but who has discovered it out?" He rose and walked to t
He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, enjoying the warmth of her tender hand to his face. "I do not. If I did, I wouldn't be marrying her, would I?""Do not think me a fool or one oblivious to how you address her with such distance. You did not treat your mistresses with as much distance as you treat her." Charles almost scoffed. What did she know about his past mistresses? She touched his shoulder. "You do not hate her nor do you share affection with her." She stated.He didn't reply. It was known to all that his relationship with Lady Cossington was simply for power and to honour his Father's wish, to do his Father's bidding. For the sake of dignity and his Father's honour, he had remained engaged to her for four years.Four years! Charles thought. It had been long enough. He had postponed it enough in the hopes that he would finally get a reason, whatever it may be, to not live by the wish of his father. Or maybe deep down, he hoped that the Cossingtons would ask that the engagem
* * *Beth did not say anything, she couldn't say a word. Time and again, she had found herself rendered speechless by the Duke of Carlisle. His words and the look in his eyes held her in place and time; she was stuck in the particular moment. It was a miracle she could breathe at all.When she had left Rosethorn Hill – her relative's home – for his, she had promised herself that she would not be entertained or marvel at whatever she would see, but as the Duke's coach drew closer to his home, she couldn't help herself; its size and beauty were breathtaking. For although she had visited it the night before, seeing it in daylight, though not materialistic, Beth thought one had to be happy simply working there. Tightly, she had clenched her dress in both fists, trying to hold on to her resolve but she had known it was a losing battle.The halls, as the butler had led her in, were even more amazing to behold than she had thought. And when she saw the portraits and the paintings of running
"Very well then." To the serving maids, he nodded for them to proceed.And they did, placing first a large portion of cold meat on each plate, making Beth's eyes bulge. Then came the cheese, bread, mashed potatoes and dried tomatoes. They poured coffee for the Duke and upon request, tea for Beth, before bowing and leaving the room.Beth exhaled. "I never imagined this to be your breakfast."In the process of picking up his cutlery, he paused. "Why? Is it not to your liking?" He looked at her plate. "I can ask for a fresh plate for you."Quickly she objected. "No no. By my words, I meant that your breakfast is to a certain degree… heavy." His eyebrow hitched. She looked at the plate and again at him. "If I eat like this everyday, I'm afraid I'll become lazy. God forbid I become slothful, or worse, fat." She raised her head in time to catch the slight twitch of his lips.He picked his cutlery and began to cut away at the meat. "Breakfast is my most important meal. Much obliged to than a
Covering her face in frustration, she groaned. She would refuse him now and whatever it was he was offering, that would be best, she finally concluded. Walking once more and back to him, she said. "I appreciate your hand of friendship, but I am afraid I would not be able to afford being your friend."He was staring again. "Whatever do you mean by that?""I cannot be your friend. I am grateful for the breakfast and the invitation to visit the Castle with you, even more grateful for inviting my sister and my cousin, but I must decline on their behalf and mine.""You are refusing me." He simply stated.She bowed fully. "I apologize if I am being rude." She dared to look him in the eyes. He wasn't amused, nor was he enraged, his face held no expression. Beth didn't know what to do after. With a slight stutter, she said. "I should leave now."No reply. The Duke stood before her, watching her. His gaze made it difficult for her to meet his eyes. They were intent upon her and her cheeks were
She knew he truly cared for her too. Why would he not tell her he loved her? He had cried when he came to know of their child. He protected her from the scorn of the ton and stayed from her when he thought she wanted freedom from him. To Beth, these were all forms of love. Why then would he then not tell her he loved her? His gaze lifted and their eyes locked. "If I do," he whispered. "I'm afraid I would end up losing you." Her heart slammed, filling once more with love for him. she was absolutely breathless now. She never thought she could love him more. He was broken, broken by the tragedy of his parents. Scared that if he admitted aloud to loving her, she would be lost. But Beth knew better, she knew she would not be, she could never love another nor leave him. She loved the Duke of Carlisle and nothing could change it. He was the one she loved. She saw his fear, that he would become like his father, who gave up love to protect his power and title, leaving behind another importa
* * *Beth gasped as Charles's lips took hers, the familiar sensation sending shivers over her body and a known heat to the core of her being. Her eyes closed. He brushed his mouth back and forth against hers as his hands came to her cheeks. Her nostrils tinged. Surprisingly, he smelt like flowers and tasted like the best sunrise.The pebbles dropped and she clasped his shoulders, pulling closer. The pressure increased. His hand held the back of her head as he fought to pry her lips open. She gave in, the kiss was one of hunger and need and longing. He kissed her as if he had sworn his life to it, never wanting to let go.But when air failed her and she protested. He released her mouth.Beth was reeling from the pressure of the kiss and Charles shared her sentiment. His breathing complimented hers as her lungs fought for enough air to keep her alive, while her head fought for thoughts to keep her sane and in place."Darling?" Charles asked as soon as he could breathe naturally.It had
April 1827The rain had finally given up the challenge and let up to a drizzle, but not before creating obstacles in the form of puddles and broken branches, and hiding the moon from sight. In a bid to destroy, the wind had brought down branches and uprooted trees. The workers and the men who catered to the trees would be quite preoccupied in the days to come.The Carlisle coach pulled through, hurtling down the road at the request of its master, bringing itself home. It struggled against the rocks and branches flung about. In the sky, the flashing lightning and cracking thunder gave a promise of the rain's return. It would again storm terrifically, it said.Albert properly held the flowers picked from Torrence Hall when they had made a brief stop, and the cigars Mr. Danbury had given him at Lanhandron for his Lord. Although he had refused, many times, the man did not adhere to him. Did he think there was another merchant who they went to?Charles held freely onto the safety strap as
***Charles had finished with his work and was going to his room, walking the dark halls alone. As soon as Albert had finished attending to him, assisting him change his clothes and putting out his documents in his study, he had sent the man away, needing to remain with his ledgers and work without the hovering presence of an overzealous servant.Over the weeks after his return, he had been sitting with his documents, checking and ascertaining to a fault the works of his solicitors and confirming the progress of his estates.Beth and the builders had, to a large extent, established an edifice and he couldn't be more proud of her. The materials needed for the windows and the doors had already been purchased. On a later day, he would pay the site a visit, but he knew there was nothing to worry about.The bank statements and cheques his solicitors had sent were beautiful. The farms were progressing, the lands had been cleared and prepared for planting. The other estates had been renovate
Beth searched for his emotion, searching to see if he truly was not angry. He wasn't. She turned her away, letting her eyes wander around. The sky was dark and save for the fire, it was all darkness. The wind blew, whispering to the fire, troubling it, and against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise. She sighed. It was warmer at the foot of the hill.How were they on the hill?!"We were standing by the foot of the hill." She mumbled to herself.Eric heard her. "Now, we are here, atop it. Isn't life wonderful?"It was. Wonderful and unpredictable. The grim feeling rose again, and Beth felt uncertain about the future, but she was almost sure of the disaster waiting to happen."Eric, we should not be here." She held his wrist. "This hill_"He cut her off. "What about the hill?" When his smile surfaced, it was one of melancholia. Beth had the silent feeling that he knew of what was to come but would not prevent it. Was he not afraid of it? Was he not scared for the future?If he was not,
"Beth. Beth!" Someone was whispering, calling out to her. The voice was close by, as though the caller was by her side, but also like they were afar off. It was a familiar voice. Beth stirred in her sleep, refusing to pay attention to the call, choosing rather to dive deeper into the world of sweet subconsciousness and unawareness."Bethany wake up, it's morning." The voice called again. She turned, pulling the covers higher as she allowed the darkness continuous hold on her tighten. The comfortable sleep carried her and she liked it. She enjoyed it.But the familiar voice would not relent. "Wake up, sister." It called again. She turned away from it, drowning it out. The bed covers wrapped perfectly around her, helping her remain where she was, far from the voice.Again, it called. "Wake up!!!" The caller shook her, forcing her to regain consciousness. She refused but he was as stubborn as her, finally she gave in. Annoyed enough, Beth forced her eyes open.The room was dark at first,
***Beth stayed with Lady Marjorie who was as excited as a church mouse and the group, laughing gaily at the jokes of Lord Witte. When it broke, she walked with Peter Sinclair, Lord Witte's son-in-law, before excusing herself, telling that her feet were tired and she needed to sit. She walked away to the fountain and sat herself down.The water was beautiful and golden due to the lamps set up about the place. It beckoned and she answered. Her fingers played lightly over the surface of the water and her contact with it caused ripples, distorted and obedient to the slow movement. The lines formed and swept silently by, but before they could scatter she would create yet another set of lines. It was a nonsensical act but it was fun for her, at least for the moment.The Willowbrook sisters had scared her with their words but it had made her receive a promise from Charles, a promise that everyday made life beautiful. Her words to their mother had been true. There was nothing to forgive. The
Beth shook her head. "No." She giggled. "Not too long ago, they saw me as a seductress and a thief. Soon they would see me as Bethany, and even if they don't, I am satisfied with being Lady Carlisle, after all Lord Carlisle is my husband, is he not? I would no more care for how people see me, it is their choice but I would demand my honour, it is my right."She was different. She was bolder. What had happened to the timid woman who was angry at the too quick a marriage and the new home she was to own and manage? The same who would always turn her away at every visit? Marjorie liked this woman. She was good for Charles. She was good for the Duchy. She was good for herself. Like this, she could face society and win even though many people still held contempt against her.She was brave."You are braver than I am and I consider myself quite brave. Marrying John was one of the greatest joys of my life, but there were days I was forced to regret it."The same people who bowed to her now, se
***Marjorie turned her head at every approaching carriage, hoping it to be the one from Carlisle Crest. They had not promised to be in attendance but she hoped they would, seeing as they had not rejected the invitation either. She wanted them to be more aligned with the ton and her ways, even if just a little bit. It was alright to have one's dealings, but society had some rules and breaking so many of them l might lead to not being accepted or worse invited to its norms and functions ever again. She knew Charles didn't care for societal rules but she did, and perhaps Beth might too and it would be cruel to steal it from the young woman.Mrs. Blackwell, Jacob Blackwell's new and older wife, waved to her and she waved in return. They did not run in the same circle but she was a nice woman who, like her, had defiled society and married the man she loved. When Mrs. Blackwell invited her in with a gesture, she refused and gesticulated back, saying she would be in the open area in a matte