Sometime later, Wagner's skeptical remarks about his feelings towards Arabella still lingered in his mind when Matthew stood in front of Marguerite's bedchamber. He'd bathed and changed into casual clothing before coming upstairs, feeling refreshed and ready to tell Maggie about everything."Come in." At the sound of Marguerite's voice, Matthew felt his resolve weaken a bit, but he steeled himself and turned the knob.Across the room, Marguerite sat with her back to him, her head bent over the table. She must be working on one of her flower sketches, he guessed by the scribbling sound she made."I'm not hungry yet, Mary." Marguerite said without turning, apparently mistaken him for her maid.At the familiar sight, suddenly an odd feeling settled over him, like a tinge of sadness. At the moment, it just occurred to him that his reunion with Bella would change everything between them. More or less, it meant at some point he and Maggie would be parting, going on their own separate live
Matthew halfheartedly followed Arabella as she continued to flaunt him in a way that made him feel more like one of the furry, neatly-groomed pets in the hands of their proud owner than a male companion. As a result, they raised more than a few eyebrows along the way. Much to his dismay, every other minute Arabella greeted somebody and stopped for a brief exchange, and he had to endure the awkward moment of introduction time and again. It had been a long time since the last time he suffered such hostility, now he felt like he couldn't bear it for another minute. The experience brought on a new realization that all this time, the club had been his little empire, the only place he and his skills were held in high regard. The only place where he truly belonged.Unaware of his irritation, Arabella moved to her next target."Lady Highwood. How delightful to see you." She waved at a handsome mature lady who'd just appeared in the opposite direction. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of
After spending nearly an hour thinking of some way to make Matthew feel better, Marguerite decided to make one of his favorite foods, chicken soup. He always ate heartily whenever she served him that simple dish and she remembered he once told her that her soup tasted like his late mother's. Cook seemed surprised when Marguerite appeared in the kitchen door, but much to her relief, the woman refrained from asking her about last night and busied herself with helping her prepare the ingredients. The minced onion began to sizzle in the saucepan when Cook stepped over to hand out a pot of broth to Marguerite."Thank you." Marguerite murmured, continuously stirring it to prevent burning. Once the onion turned to brown and released its delightful flavor, she poured the liquid into the pan. "Oh, it smells heavenly." Cook commented when the simmering soup filled the kitchen with delicious aroma."This is for Matthew." Marguerite smiled fondly as she mentioned the name."I suppose he is sti
In the far corner of Goddard's dining room, Jacob sat consoling himself with a glass of wine. As he mulled over the recent incident, a rueful grin touched the corner of his mouth. Though he was not a vain narcissist to believe that he had the entire female population at his feet, but he was used to having women swooning over him, so finding one who couldn't even stand the sight of him was a truly humbling experience. What amazed him, however, was the remarkable guts with which she'd shown him. This was the first time he met a woman who was not afraid to call him out. Oddly enough he felt more amused than offended by her spurn, but above all, his recent encounter with Marguerite Goddard had left him intrigued. All his life, Goddard was known as a notorious recluse. Only God knew why a man who'd successfully amassed an obscene amount of fortune like him spent his life withdrawing into a self-imposed isolation. Goddard had no family or living relatives, so it came as no surprise when w
Dear readers,sorry for the late update. I found it hard to juggle with writing and children, but I'll do my best to deliver my story for you. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know what you think about the story and the characters. I'll really appreciate that.Marguerite wandered back to her suite in a state of utter dejection. At first all she could think of was; how could she overlook the signs? But there really weren't any signs at all. How was she supposed to know when nothing had gone wrong? Matthew had changed drastically in the space of two days. How could it be possible? Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, she recalled what Wagner said to her.Matthew isn't the sort who dallies with celebrities. It must have been Mannheim who pimped the actress out to him.At the thought, Marguerite felt her insides simmering with rage and contempt for the rogue. He'd corrupted her Matthew, and now the man she loved had fallen into debauchery just like all other society rakes. Although,
Dear readers,thank you for your feedback on the previous chapter. Really appreciate it. I'd like you to know, writers write better when they know what the readers think of the story; the characters and the plot, which character you like best etc. So please don't hesitate to leave a comment and let me know what's on your mind. Thanks again and I hope you stay safe and healthy wherever you are.Though Viscountess Winthrop had always been an aloof, distant mother who'd shown very little interest in her five children, Arabella had never really been able to hate her ~until now. She'd just come to realize that her virtuous, honorable mama was no better than a pimpstress. This very morning, Arabella had been forced to wear a tight corset and squeeze into a brand new dress a size too small, with an outrageously revealing décolletage, to impress her current suitor, Lord Bentley. She would never forget how her mother's face broke into a wide, self-satisfied smile when Lord Bentley's gaze was
Marguerite's gaze fixed on the passing building outside as the carriage rolled into the night. Across from her, Mary watched her in silence, waiting for some explanation for this outrageous venture. When five minutes had passed and Marguerite hadn't uttered a single word, the maid brought herself to ask,"What are we doing, Miss?" Marguerite remained silent as she couldn't seem to reason out her impulsive action. She only knew that if she just sat idly by at home, the tormenting ordeal of not knowing what really happened would drive her mad. Looking at Marguerite with a pitiful eyes, Mary carefully said,"Not to presume, Miss, I understand what you're feeling now and I'm sorry this happened to you, but this is pointless, and it will only hurt you more."Marguerite bit her lip. Perhaps her maid was right, this was a pointless thing to do, but instead of being tortured by endless suspicion and doubt, she preferred to learn the truth with her own eyes, no matter how ugly it might be. On
Dear readers, sorry for the irregular update lately. Been juggling between raising children and writing, I hope you can understand. While the pandemic hasn't really gone, some part of the world are torn apart by war. I pray for peace and safety and comfort to my readers wherever you are, and I hope reading my stories can bring a little joy to your days. May God always keep us protected and safe from harm.******"Look how lovely you are!"Viscountess Winthrop exclaimed once Arabella whirled around to show her new dress. The woman's gaze swept over her daughter's figure and her expression took on a rather regretful look."I used to dream that you, of all my daughters, would be the one to bear the heir to one of the oldest, richest titles in all England. Why, among your sisters, you are undoubtedly the fairest."Arabella stood listening to her mother with a compressed mouth. She wasn't the least bit flattered by the remarks, knowing what would follow next."But now, since you're far pas
The next morning, Marguerite wrestled her luggage out of her room, hoping to slip away before anyone awoke. Not anger, but something far more insidious fueled her haste. Sleep had evaded her the prior night. A torrent of rage had engulfed her initially, but as the hours bled into dawn, a sobering train of thought infiltrated the red mist.What was the true source of her anger? Was it Jacob's self-serving motives, or the fact that he'd shoved the ugly truth in her face, shattering the fragile hope she'd built through denial? The answer, a sudden flash of deep knowledge, hit her like a ton of bricks.The anger she'd displayed had been a mere facade. A mask for the real emotion lurking beneath ~ fear. Fear of the feelings Jacob had unearthed, emotions that threatened to lead her down a dangerous path.Shaken by the realization, her first instinct was to escape. A desperate flight before reason abandoned her entirely. Last night, she'd been swept away by his allure. How long could she re
Dear readers, please let me know if you're happy with the way the story is progressing. You are welcome to share your opinion and give me suggestions. Thank you and know that every comment you leave is a valuable input for me."Not a bad sight," she murmured. "Not a bad sight at all."A slight frown creased his brows then his lips curved into a knowing smile."Seems you've found a more captivating view closer by," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.Marguerite felt a blush creep up her neck. "You're... you're so vain!" she stammered, flustered.Jacob shrugged, a hint of a playful smirk still lingering. "Never underestimate the power of a captivating sunset, or perhaps," he added, his voice dropping a notch lower, "the person standing next to it."Marguerite huffed, a strangled laugh escaping her lips despite her annoyance."You are incorrigible!"To Marguerite's relief, the playful banter eased the simmering tension. Jacob turned his attention to the treehouse, stepping forw
The next day, late in the afternoon, Jacob led Marguerite on a winding tour of the estate. As they strolled the stone path in the garden, Marguerite tilted her head up, admiring the towering trees above them. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on the ground. "Jake, I've heard rumors about your far-flung voyage across Europe and the Middle East, is that true?" Marguerite broke the silence. Her question sounded innocent, but a flicker of something in her eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity."Indeed," he replied, "There was even a year where I barely touched home soil.""The allure of the unknown, experiencing new cultures and faces, it must be intoxicating," Her voice trailed off, her gaze flickering to his face, searching for a deeper emotion beneath the surface."But have you ever missed home amidst your adventures?"A flicker of sadness, as fleeting as a shooting star, crossed his features before a wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Perhaps the thr
When Marguerite entered the dining room later, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon danced in the air, mingling with the sweet perfume of the crimson roses that adorned the table's center. A dozen candles flickered softly, their warm glow painting the brick walls with the shimmering light of a thousand fireflies. The soft crackle of the fireplace added a comforting soundtrack to the ambiance. Linen napkins lay folded beside gleaming silverware, the perfect finishing touch to this romantic setting.Across the room, Jacob awaited her at a small round table draped in a snowy tablecloth. As she approached, he rose to his feet with a flourish, pulling out her chair with a practiced ease. His chivalrous demeanor fit perfectly with his previous image as a master of seduction.Yet, Marguerite had discovered a glimpse of something deeper beneath his carefree facade. Tonight, determined to explore this hidden side, Marguerite settled into her seat, anticipation simmering in the candlelit air. She pic
At the bottom, the butler materialized to guide them to the dining room, where the Duke and the duchess awaited. The duchess, a ravishing woman in her early forties, rose from her seat to welcome them. "I've heard the fascinating story about your connection to my husband's long-lost brother. What an incredible stroke of luck! The two of you are a real godsend!""Your Grace, you are far too kind," Marguerite replied, attempting a curtsy despite the duchess' attempt to stop her."Nonsense with formalities, Miss Goddard. Marguerite, may I call you that?""Of course, Your Grace," Marguerite said with a touch of amusement. "Just call me Maggie.""Then Maggie it is," the duchess declared, a warm smile gracing her lips. "And you, my dear, may call me Ava."Despite their recent acquaintance, Marguerite felt an inexplicable kinship with the duchess. As their conversation flowed, the duchess divulged a curious story."Years before my husband even knew he had a brother," she began, a hint of so
The Duke of Vermont paused just inside the doorway, surveying his unexpected guests. A young, attractive couple, clad in disheveled clothes, gawked at him, too stunned to offer a polite greeting."Have we met?" His question jolted them from their stupor.Marguerite and Jacob exchanged a bewildered glance, neither able to offer an immediate answer. The man standing before them was a mirror image of Matthew, a mature version with the same build and nearly identical face. The same eyes, an impossibly rare shade of blue, the same nose, the same strong jawline – It was Matthew's face, aged to perfection. Even his voice, a deep, rich rumble, echoed Matthew's own, the only difference being his mane of silver hair, a stark contrast to Matthew's raven locks.A beat of awkward silence passed before Jacob finally spoke, "Forgive me, Your Grace," he hesitated, "There's a... a certain resemblance we noticed between you and someone we know.""A resemblance, you say?" the Duke inquired, a hint of a
Dear readers, please don't forget to leave a comment below to help me understand what you like. I'll do my best to deliver the best for you.After a brief chat, they set their sights on the town market, hoping to find food and perhaps secure passage to their next destination, Vermont. The walk took about thirty minutes, and by the time they arrived, Marguerite's stomach was grumbling loudly. Despite the hunger pangs, she pressed on. Just as a wave of faintness washed over her, they reached the bustling market. Jacob, ever observant, noticed Marguerite's pale face and stopped short."Maggie, are you okay?" he asked with concern."I'm feeling a bit lightheaded," she admitted. "Maybe I need to sit down."Jacob gently took Chester from her arms and offered Marguerite his other arm for support. His firm grip steadied her as he guided her to a nearby bench."Don't worry," he assured her, "We'll find a doctor if you need one." He carefully placed Chester on the bench and helped her sit."No
Hello, so sorry for the late update. I've been juggling with my kids and my job recently, but I hope to deliver the best for all of you. Your comments are very helpful, so please tell me what you think about this story, about the characters, and what you like.The harsh words scraped against Marguerite's ears, conjuring nightmarish visions that coiled in her gut. Guilt twisted like a viper as she questioned sending Jacob back in. Relief washed over her in a tidal wave when a moment later Jacob emerged from the entrance, his soot-streaked face etched with grim determination. A whimper drew her attention to a small, trembling form nestled in his arms – Chester. "Jake! Thank goodness!"Returning the child in her arms to its mother, Marguerite sprinted toward them. Oblivious to the true source of her panic, Jacob mistook her frantic dash to him for concern over the puppy. He chuckled, passing the wriggling ball of fur into her arms."This little boy is shaken, but unharmed."Marguerite
Dear readers, I'm sorry for the very late update. Trying my best to juggle family, my current job and my passion for writing. Please keep in mind that I only want to deliver the best for you. Please feel free to let me know what you think of the story. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 🎊 As the trip progressed, Marguerite soon found that she could sit comfortably with Jacob for long minutes without the need to speak. To her great relief, he seemed relaxed and content with the companionable silence between them, not trying to entertain her with constant conversation. After a while, the quiet surroundings and the smooth motion of the vehicle made Marguerite feel sleepy. She'd just dozed off when suddenly the deafening sound of a gunshot rang out, startling her awake. The carriage lurched to a sudden halt and she was jolted forwards. Blinking back her confusion, she searched for Jacob in the opposite seat and asked fearfully,"Jake, is that robber?!" "You stay here, I'll check." Ja