by Abby Ayles
“Elias, there you are,” his father called. “I wanted to speak with you before I headed into town for the day.”
“Of course, Father,” Elias replied as he pulled out the seat beside the older gentleman. Helena walked around the table and took the seat on the other side of Elias.
“I have been looking at the information you provided on our holdings in the West Indies, and I believe that a visit is necessary,” the Earl informed.
Beatrice’s eyes moved to Helena. Her sister sat quietly with her son on her lap. Her eyes rose to meet hers but neither woman said anything. A trip to the West Indies would mean Elias would be absent for months. Helena had a two-year-old son and a two-month-old daughter.
She smiled and Helena smiled back.
“Father, I thought you might think as much,” Elias replied. He turned to look at Helena. “However, I do not think the time ideal at present for such a trip. Elizabeth is new to the world and with the time Helena had during her pregnancy, I wouldn’t want to leave her on her own for so long.”
The Earl nodded. “I understand. That is why I am considering the voyage myself.”
All eyes turned to the Earl. It had been some time since he had turned the affairs of the Repington family over to his son. He had retracted himself from work in order to enjoy more time with his family and to pursue more charitable pursuits. The thought of a long sea voyage was out of place.
“Father, are you really considering this?” Elias questioned.
“Yes. It has been years since I have visited the islands. I am not getting any younger and if I ever wish to see them again before my life is over I must do so now.”
“Do not speak in such a manner,” Beatrice said, feeling melancholy. “You have many good years left, my Lord.”
The Earl smiled at her. “You are very kind my dear, but as I learned in the navy, there is very little in this life that can be guaranteed. Today, we may be here and tomorrow we may be elsewhere. We must take our opportunities as they come.”
Beatrice internalized his words. They were a lesson she’d learned the hard way when her father had been wrongfully accused and their lives turned into a daily nightmare. Now, she was thankful for the peace that had come into their family and the comforts they now enjoyed.
“Very well Father, if you insist. I will see to the arrangements,” Elias answered.
“No need,” the Earl assured. “I make my own plans. You have enough on your plate as it is, and I am not a child that cannot make its own arrangements.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it,” Elias replied. “I simply wanted to help.”
“And that is appreciated,” the Earl replied. He turned to Beatrice. “If I need assistance, I am sure I can find someone more than capable of handling it,” he stated.
Beatrice smiled at the older man. Since her move to Balwell and Helena’s pregnancy, her sister’s role as the Earl’s right-hand had fallen on her - a position she rather enjoyed. He trusted her with much of his house and during the worse of Helena’s illness during her pregnancy, it was Beatrice to whom the household reported.
“I will do whatever I can to help,” Beatrice said with a smile before sipping her tea.
"What a family I have," the Earl said suddenly. "I have been truly blessed. I have three grown children under my roof, one of my blood and two of my choosing, and grandchildren in my old age.” He smiled brightly. “What more could I want?”
Beatrice’s heart was lightened to find herself included amongst those the Earl called family. Though it could not replace a family of her own, it was more than she had ever expected to be when she came to Balwell.
"Thank you, Father," Helena replied.
“Yes, thank you, my Lord,” Beatrice chorused. “I hold you in as high a regard as my own father, and he sees you of equal importance to leave me in your care.”
"Your father knows that I would do nothing but the best for you Beatrice - both you and Helena. Though my son is more capable of tending to the concerns of your sister than I," he said, giving Helena an impudent wink. "And as for you, Beatrice, I will see that you lack nothing while you are under my roof."
“Your kindness means the world to me,” Beatrice said finally before the table fell into quiet conversation as breakfast continued. The sole voice that could be heard over them all was that of Matthew, who was insisting on his own way as usual.
Chapter 2
The Duke of Everdale was bored of London. Though that was not the reason he had accepted the invitation of the Earl of Wismoth to spend a few days with him and his family at Balwell Manor. The Duke had received the invitation several days before and had immediately replied.
Indeed, Alexander Langdon, the ninth Duke of Everdale, was very eager to return to the home of his oldest family friend. The Earl of Wismoth had been a friend to his father before his death some fourteen years before. Alexander was only twenty-one at the time.
He sat back comfortably as he watched London peel away behind him and the countryside expand before him. Lendenbarrow was a beautiful county, nearly as beautiful as Everdale, but not quite. Though, Alexander could not be sure what exactly had become of his home in the years since his last visit.
It had been five years since he had last returned, and even then, it had only been for a matter of days. France had become his new home, though now his time there would be at an end. England and his obligations had brought him home, and now he had to see to the business of his estate.
Alexander left London in the early morning. It took several hours to reach Lendenbarrow and he was expected for dinner. He hated to be late. He was a man who prided himself on his punctuality.
His fingers lightly tapped the frame of the window of his carriage as he traveled further into the country. There was little to do but think, and there was much of that for him. He was thirty-five with no heir and time was catching up on him.
Men of means were in want of a wife. It was true. Some mocked at the sentiments that some possessed, but it did nothing to disqualify the facts of the matter. A wealthy man needed an heir to continue his line and to pass on his wealth or else it would be entailed away to some other branch of the family.
He dozed on the trip, and the image of a pretty brunette filled his mind. She was smiling at him, as she blew a kiss in his direction. He was younger, much younger in his dreams and infinitely happier. He ran after and she ran from him.
‘Cecilia! Cecilia!' He called but still, she ran from him, a laugh playing at her lips as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. She was stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
‘Come back,’ he called. Still, she ran. ‘Come back!’ he pleaded, but she continued to move farther and farther away from him. He watched in dismay as the gap between them grew larger. The faster he ran to catch her the farther away she got until finally she was gone.
Alexander’s eyes flew open. He had been napping. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of her. It was always the same. He chased her and she escaped from him. She never stayed. He always lost her.
The carriage came to a halt, and Alexander peered out the window at Balwell Manor. The torches were lit, and the manor was bathed in their yellow light. The footmen came to greet him. They opened the carriage door and Alexander immediately stepped out.
He was a tall man, well over six feet. He towered over the men beside him. His shoes shone in the light. His French suit was equally elegant and well-made. No expense was spared. Alexander wasn’t a man to pinch pennies nor did he conserve. He paid for what he wanted, and he always got what he wanted.
Alexander strode up to the house. The Earl of Wismoth was waiting at the door to greet him. He smiled and extended his hand as Alexander drew near.
“Walter,” Alexander greeted the older man, as he took his hand. They embraced, giving each other a friendly pat on the back.
“I’m glad to see you. On time as usual,” the Earl replied.
“You know how I hate tardiness. It’s te
rribly disrespectful of the time of others.”
“Very true,” the Earl agreed. “Come, the family is waiting for you inside.”
Alexander nodded politely before following the older man inside.
The house was much warmer than Alston. The halls were painted in light colors, beautiful paintings adorned the walls, and the pale marble floors were exquisite. He always loved what Lady Wismoth had done with the house after she had become the mistress of it. Cecilia would've done the same to Alston if she had been given the chance.
The Earl led him into the parlor, there he found Elias, Viscountess Chatleton, and her sister sitting in conversation.
“Elias. Helena. Beatrice. His Grace has arrived,” the Earl announced. The trio stood on ceremony, each bowing their heads cordially. Alexander did the same, while Elias’ son played at the feet of his parents.
“Your Grace,” Elias said with a smile as he stepped forward and shook his hand. “A pleasure to see you again.”
“Your Grace. How wonderful to have you back with us at Balwell,” his wife added as she stepped forward to greet him. She was a very pretty woman, a fact that Alexander had noted on his last visit. However, his eyes did not linger long on her pleasant face but moved to where her sister stood.
“Your Grace,” Beatrice said politely and promptly turned her attention from him to the small child at her feet. The boy seemed especially fond of her, another fact he had noted on his last visit. She was completely occupied by him and seemed disinterested in everything else.
Alexander joined in the conversation. He commented where necessary but mostly he observed. Beatrice Leeson was an attractive woman. Not especially beautiful but neither was she homely. She did have a very pleasant smile that seemed only to appear in the presence of her nephew. The child had a way of making her laugh, and she treated him as if he were the only person in the room.
She liked children. That was a good thing.
They were called into dinner by Mrs. Ruskin.
“Your Grace,” the older woman said, as she bowed deeply.
“Mrs. Ruskin, a pleasure to see you again. I see the house is still in perfect order,” he commented.
“As usual, Your Grace, though I must admit that I have a lot of help with the household since Miss Beatrice does so much of the managing," Mrs. Ruskin commented. She looked at the woman she spoke of as Beatrice passed them on her way to the dining room. The child was still with her.
“She has been an immense help to me and her sister. She has been indispensable to the Viscountess,” Mrs. Ruskin pointed out, speaking loud enough that Beatrice heard her.
“Mrs. Ruskin,” Beatrice commented with a slight blush. “You praise me too much.”
“I do not exaggerate,” Mrs. Ruskin replied. “The Earl would agree I’m sure.”
“That I would,” the Earl interjected as he joined them. “Beatrice has been an invaluable member of this household since her arrival. In fact, she has done no less than if this were her own home.”
“It is my home,” Beatrice replied with a small smile. “You have been kind enough to welcome me under your roof, even in the absence of my parents, and you have seen to my every comfort. Ensuring that all is well with you and this house is the least I can do.”
“You are a very industrious woman I take it, to care for a house this large," Alexander commented as he studied her expression. She gave nothing away in her looks. Though her smiles were polite, her eyes stayed distant and her manner slightly aloof. She was amongst them but not with them.
“I do what I can, Your Grace. My sister needed me and I stood in her place for a time. Now that Elizabeth is here and her health has improved, I am sure that the praise will be shifted to the deserving party,” Beatrice replied as she deflected attention from herself to her sister. Alexander found it curious. Most women loved to be praised, and yet Beatrice Leeson seemed to want none of it.
The Earl and his family proceeded into the dining room, but Alexander lingered behind. He wished to observe this curious woman more.
She was taller than her sister, but not the tallest woman he had ever seen. She was several inches below him in height, but her frame was slender and elegant, with poise and grace from years of tutelage in the ways of carrying herself. She was clearly well-mannered and educated as he’d learned from their first conversations.
In the dining room, Alexander was given the privilege of sitting at the Earl’s right-hand while Elias sat at his left with his wife beside him. Beatrice was the last to be seated. She had handed the child over to his nurse to see to his dinner, and now she looked at the table as if deciding where she should sit. Again, Alexander found this interesting.
Most women, who knew of his status, were eager to be seated beside him. A widowed Duke, who was relatively young, was a prized commodity to every woman of his acquaintance. But Beatrice did not seem to behave as most women did.
She deliberated briefly before coming to take the seat beside him. Alexander stood and pulled the seat out for her. She looked at him in surprise as if the action had come as something unexpected before she slipped between the table and her chair and allowed him to push it in beneath her.
She refused to make eye contact with him. Was he so unpleasant?
“Are you usually so quiet, Miss Leeson?” he inquired several minutes after they began their meal.
“I do not think I have much to contribute to the conversation. It is my belief that when you have little to say, saying nothing is best.”
“Indeed. Is that truly how you feel, or do you have things you would wish to say but you feel saying them would be improper?” he asked as he looked at her curiously.
"I have nothing to say, Your Grace."
“Very well,” he replied. “Will you be attending the Madsen ball in a few weeks? I hear that half the eligible men in London will be attending.”
“I declined the invitation,” Beatrice replied before turning back to her meal.
“Declined?” Alexander repeated curiously. “Why would you decline?”
“I have no interest in it,” she answered so matter-of-factly that Alexander could hardly believe his ears.
"You have no interest in meeting eligible gentlemen when you are an unmarried woman? You are an oddity, Miss Leeson,” Alexander commented calmly.
“Am I? I think I am quite wise in my practices,” she answered. “Why should I spend my time where it will be of no use to me? I am twenty-five, almost too old for most to consider for a wife. I have a happy, comfortable home with two beautiful children to occupy me and plenty of time to indulge my interests.”
“Is that really all you desire in life? A happy, comfortable home, a place to entertain yourself and children to occupy you? Do you not wish to marry?”
She smiled, but though it lifted her lips it did not near her eyes. “Your Grace, you ask a great many questions.”
“I have been told I am a curious man,” Alexander replied calmly as his eyes met hers. They were brown, unlike her sister’s emerald, but not a dull brown. The color was more like cognac.
“I would have to agree,” she replied coolly. “You seem to always have a number of things to ask me whenever we meet.”
“I would admit, Miss Leeson, that you leave me with no end of questions after we speak,” Alexander admitted.
“Why is that?”
“You never answer as I expect,” he replied. “I find it fascinating.”
“I believe that is the only time in my life I have ever heard the word fascinating associated with me,” Beatrice replied.
“I am surprised that you have not heard it more often,” Alexander countered. “You are indeed quite fascinating.”
“You have said that twice now. I would ask you to stop Your Grace, lest I believe you,” she said with a small smile.
“I always mean what I say," he replied as he looked at her. She looked back at him, her expression slightly perplexed before she returned to her meal and he returned to his.
/> He had his answer. Beatrice Leeson was perfect.
Chapter 3
It was another beautiful morning at Balwell and Beatrice found herself walking alone in the garden. Matthew was with his father on a fishing trip to the lake for the day, and Helena was nursing Elizabeth. The Earl was shut up in his office attending to the arrangements for his trip. The voyage to the West Indies was daily becoming of more and more interest to him.
She walked slowly, enjoying the cool breeze and the warm sunshine. Ringlets of curls framed her face, while longer curls were pinned atop her head and fell down to her shoulders. She had allowed it to grow much longer since her move to Balwell, mostly because she was not being encouraged by her numerous friends to try different new styles with it. Beatrice had come to appreciate simplicity in her life.
