In front of the house was his horse, tied to the post.
“Just a moment,” he said.
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked as she watched him, confused.
He unhooked a large cloth bundle from the saddle. “I thought we could have a picnic.”
“That sounds perfect indeed,” she laughed, surprised. Though she had not fully forgiven him, she was impressed.
They walked the path that would take them between the country home and Linwood Manor through the grove.
“May I ask after Mrs. Douvaine?” he said.
“She has been ill in her bed off and on, though she is a little better every day,” she said.
“I understand. Katrina, there is something I must confess to you. Being apart from you has been a test to my very being,” he said as they entered a very thick area of the grove with massive trees.
He turned to her. He brushed a curl from her cheek. Katrina was shocked. “Mr. Byers...”
“I had to cut my business short at Brentwood Manor. When I heard that you were in Hampshire county, I came straight away,” he whispered.
“You did?” she said, surprised.
“And now I cannot wait a minute longer for you,” he said as he pulled her close and kissed her.
This area of the grove was a private region, where one could stop to think on life, or in the case of young love, enjoy the privacy.
Mr. Byers pulled away from her and dropped the cloth bundle to the ground. He eagerly untied the cloth and Katrina found that it was two large cloths. The outer cloth he spread out in the grass, while the inner cloth still held its bundled shape and no doubt carried food and drink inside. But Katrina was only concerned with the cloth he spread in the grass. He held out his hand to her. She placed her dainty hand in his, excited for its warmth. She had been longing for his touch for days, and those days felt like an eternity. Then he eagerly opened a box and pulled out a ring.
“Miss Proctor, will you do me the honour of being my wife?”
“Mr. Byers...” she gasped.
“I know I have wronged you and I have been a fool. In truth I do not deserve you, but I cannot go on without you. It is pure torture. I know that I have shamed you with not coming to your defence and I want to make your reputation right again by showing all in society that I do not think you guilty at all and that I love you with all my heart dearest Katrina. Will you be my wife? Will you be the lady of Brentwood Manor?”
“I do not know what to say... I...”
“Say yes. That is, if you have affection for me, or have I made it so that you can never love me?” he said.
Katrina was quite for a moment. She did love this man but it was all so sudden.
“The Douvains would think that I’ve lost my mind,” she said.
“No, I have already asked permission, just now.”
“You did!”
“Yes, I did. Mr. Douvaine said he gives it his blessing, but good luck getting Katrina to say yes to you after what you did to her.”
Katrina burst out laughing, as did Mr. Byers. Together they laughed.
“They are very theatrical and they know me well.”
“What is your answer? Will you marry a fool such as me?”
“Yes, Mr. Byers, yes,” she said.
“Please call me Mason,” he said. He stood up and slid the ring on her finger and gave her a long embrace. “You make this man very happy, Katrina.”
“And you make this woman very happy.”
“Now, let’s celebrate, just the two of us, out here in nature just as you like it. I have champagne,” he said escorting her down onto the blanket.
Together they had their own private celebration away from prying eyes. A picnic in the countryside was better to Katrina than any banquet in a fancy dining room could be. This was where she was happy, away from society and their rules, back to her life as a farm girl.
“I am a fortunate man,” Mr. Byers said holding her hand.
“And I, a fortunate woman”
Then he kissed her once more as they enjoyed this secret they shared between each other before a formal announcement would be made the following morning.
Later they walked back to the country home together.
“Katrina! What in the Lord’s name do you do?” Mrs. Douvaine came out of the house with Adeline, Sadie, and Mr. Douvaine trailing behind. “Do not give this rat the time of day.”
“Mrs. Douvaine...” Katrina said.
“Mrs. Douvaine,” Mr. Douvaine said.
“Oh, have you no compassion on my nerves!”
“Mrs. Douvaine!” Katrina said loudly.
“You are mistaken. I only went into private with Mr. Byers because he has asked me to marry him.”
“What!” Mrs. Douvaine screamed. Silence overcame everyone, and then she cheered so loudly.
“Oh my dear boy, how good of you,” she embraced Mr. Byers.
“Oh, Katrina! Congratulations!” Adeline shouted and gave her a long embrace. Together they exchanged a long look because they knew between them the long journey that had them both arriving in such a position to marry.
“Take care of her, sir,” Mr. Douvaine said to Mr. Byers.
“I mean to, sir. With all my heart.”
Katrina stared at the man that she had thought of as villain upon first acquaintance, and now could not imagine life without him.
* * *
4 9
* * *
Two days later, after the house had settled from the celebratory news, a very large ornate carriage arrived.
“Katrina, Adeline, come look. I have never seen a carriage like it arriving at the house,” Sadie burst into the drawing room. Katrina gave Adeline a confused look and together they marched outside.
The carriage stopped and out stepped Mr. Alexander Norington.
Katrina and Adeline looked at each other in shock.
“Miss Proctor,” he said.
But a few minutes later after he had been introduced to their theatre family, Katrina took a turn about the garden with Alex.
“So it is true then? You are to marry Mr. Byers?” Alex asked.
“Indeed it is true.”
He sighed. “I had to come all this way myself. I thought that perhaps it was a rumour and there was still time.”
“Time for what?” Katrina asked.
“Time that I would be the one to ask your hand in marriage,” he said.
“Mr. Norington...”
“I know I am a fool. I should never have left you many months ago and made my intentions known then.”
“Oh, Mr. Norington, do not worry yourself so.”
“I did find you very agreeable and the most handsome woman of my acquaintance and now you have been spirited away by Mr. Byers. He is a good man I assure you, but I am jealous.”
“I thank you for your kind words Mr. Norington.”
“Would you have said yes if I had asked?”
“I do not know that, sir. I hardly knew you then and perhaps if I had stayed in Norington Estate and become better acquainted I could answer that question, but as of now I cannot. As of now, I love Mr. Byers.”
Alex smiled. “I guess that is as good of an answer as any.
Then you are happy, Miss Proctor, with your choice in husband?”
“Oh, indeed I am, sir.”
“Then I wish you all the happiness as well.
You and your husband are always welcome at Norington Estate. Though you are not mine, I shall always be happy to look upon your face and hear your pert opinions on all matters.”
Katrina laughed. “You do know me well Mr. Norington, but I shall not wish to see your father.”
“Father has gone to America.”
“What?”
“Yes, it was just as shocking to us. But he wanted to see New York and the wild west before he dies and I dare say, be with an American woman. And because of it I called off my betrothal as soon as he was gone.”
Katrina laughed. “So
you are truly free to be as you are.”
“I am. I only wish the timing were different.”
“It is as it should be,” she said and gave him an embrace.
Then he was off once more, leaving Adeline and Katrina standing side by side in the garden of the country home.
“Oh Katrina, did you ever think you would find yourself in such a happy manner and happy future?” Adeline said.
“No, Adeline, I did not, but I may be so bold to say that I do deserve it.”
“Oh Katrina; scandalous!” Adeline laughed.
“Come, let us go enjoy our last nights at country home before I am a married old wife.”
The girls laughed and entered the commotion and uproar of the country home, happy as ever.
* * *
epilogue
* * *
“I am to return to Brentwood Manor. I told you yesterday that I had to cut my business short, which means that it is unfinished. I must return to see to it,” Mr. Byers said to Katrina as she stood in the drawing room of their London home. It had been just fourteen days since their wedding at the Hampshire church.
Katrina sighed.
“And of course, you are to come with me,” he said.
Her face lightened, and she laughed. “I am?”
“Yes, I cannot go without you and now that you are my wife; there is no reason why you cannot,” he said.
“Oh Mr. Byers, yes, that would be delightful,” she said. “I love the countryside.”
“I have packed your things already ma’am,” the maid said, scurrying out of the parlour.
“Mr. Byers had me pack a small trunk of your things for this short trip and I left the rest in your room for your return here.”
“We leave in half an hour, take your time my love and go see to your things. Change into your traveling clothes and whatever else you need. I will be waiting,” Mr. Byers said kissing his wife on the cheek.
“Thank you. Please have tea and food brought to my room at once.” Katrina said.
The maid brought tea and food and helped Katrina out of her clothes and into her traveling clothes of a smart blue dress that buttoned high to keep the dirt off of her, and of course her riding coat and hat were awaiting downstairs.
The women giggled as they quickly drank tea and ate lightly for Katrina’s journey.
Knock.
“Mr. Byers has called for Mrs. Byers!” the servant said through the door.
“I will be right down, thank you!” Katrina said.
Moments later, the happy couple were on their way to Brentwood Manor, so that Mr. Byers could attend business and Katrina could officially become the Lady of Brentwood Manor. They were both fine with the responsibilities as long as it meant they would not be apart, and their bed would not be cold.
“I hope that Brentwood Manor will suit your country appetite, wife.”
“Oh I am sure that I will like it very well indeed,” she kissed him on the cheek.
“Invite whoever you like to dine with us as you please. I will be very busy during the day, but at night I am all yours.
“As am I, Mr. Byers,” she smiled.
“Mrs. Byers, you make me the happiest man alive.”
Then he kissed her as the carriage made its way from London, and the happy couple was indeed fortunate to have found each other along such a journey that had taken them both from their homes.
* * *
While waiting for the next book . . .
I hope you have enjoyed the story.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
An Alone and Destitute Girl is Book 03 in The Winds of Misery series.
If you have enjoyed reading it, I believe you will enjoy reading the next book.
All you need is to turn the page and get the sneak peak first hand of the book.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
PROLOGUE
London
1864
Adeline gasped for air while hot air itched down her throat. Indeed, she knew that something was wrong, and pulled the blanket from her quickly, exposing her pale slender legs to the heated air. She opened her eyes and sat up in bed.
Twas the middle of the night after a grand theater performance that she was quite proud of, and she felt quite tired because of it. Life had been going substantially well for her, and she could not be happier. Adeline Simmons Proctor – or Adeline Proctor, as was her stage name as an actress – had been involved in many situations, and the theater that she now called home with the Douvains, was as good a home as any.
But on this particular night, something felt oddly wrong. In the moment that she sat up in bed and took a deep breath, she realized what caused this wrong feeling. She immediately started to cough and choke, the air thick with smoke. In the dark of the night, she could not see at all.
Rushing out of her bed, her feet hit the warm floor and she padded over to the window, flinging it open. The rush of air hit her face and she was able to breathe once more, but only for a moment, for the smoke that had gathered in her room quickly made its escape through the window. She coughed and choked again. Looking into the room with the moonlight streaming in from the open window, she could see just how smoky it was.
“Fire.”
No! This cannot be. I must wake the others!
In her white nightgown, Adeline made her way to the door of her bedroom. She needed to wake up the rest of the household. She lived in the townhome upstairs from the theater with the Douvaines, the couple that ran the theater.
“Ouch.”
She yanked her hand from the doorknob, which was considerably hot. Adeline folded the cloth of her nightgown in her hand and used it to open the door. But on the other side flames licked high toward the ceiling. Adeline shouted and jumped back. The flames engulfed the entire floor and she could not see beyond them. The splintering and cracking of the wood reached her ears as the floor began to collapse on the staircase. She panicked; there was no way for her to get beyond the flames.
Crash! Wooden posts from the stair railing crashed to the floor.
“Mrs Douvain! Mr Douvain! Nancy!” Adeline shouted over and over at the top of her lungs. But no one responded, for she could hardly hear her own voice above the roar of the fire and the breaking of wood. Suddenly a patch of flame inched toward her door, and toward her. She stepped back into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She could hear the sound of the door burning from the other side. Adeline dropped to her knees, where the air was less thick with smoke. She grabbed a shawl that sat on a chair. She wrapped it around her nose and mouth and crawled toward the window.
“Help! Fire! Help!” She shouted out of the window, but it was the middle of the night and most were asleep. Looking down from the second floor, there was no escape for her. There was not anything for her to climb or to be had on the side of the building that could help her dissent to the cobblestone streets of London below. A loud cracking sound averted her attention to her door to see the flame coming through.
“Oh Lord, help me,” She said, climbing through the window, her skinny pale legs dangling from her night shift. “Help! Help!”
Just then a group of people appeared below, and she could hear others shouting fire in the street. She was grateful that people were now aware of the situation.
“Jump, Miss! You must jump!” A man below her shouted. Two other men at his side also shouted the same thing with their arms outstretched toward her, as though they would catch her.
“My friends; they are still inside I cannot get to them! Someone must go around to the front and go inside to wake them!” Adeline shouted to them.
“The entire first floor is up in flames, Miss! There is no way in. You must jump if you want to live!”
“No, I can’t.”
“You must. We can see the fire light behind you. Jump!”
Adeline turned over her shoulder. Indeed they were right, the fire had made it into the room. P
anic took over her very being, she turned back to the window, looking at the long way down and the men waiting below her. It would hurt, but that impact would feel better than burning alive.
“Mrs Douvain! Mr Douvain!” She shouted into her bedroom one more time, straining to hear for any response. There was none. Maybe they could not get to her either and had left out the front door. It was possible, and they were trying to catch their breath or beg for help to get inside to get her. If she jumped then she would be able to meet them out front and stop their worry.
“Jump! Jump! Jump!” The men below her shouted.
“Yes! Here I come!” Adeline shouted to the men below, who took their positions. She put her hands on the window seal and pushed off. She fell and the drop seemed to take forever. She cradled her body drawing her knees to her chest, and closed her eyes. Suddenly she crashed into bodies. The men below had caught her together, but the impact caused them to fall to the ground.
“Are you all right dear? Are you burned?” The man asked.
Adeline opened her eyes, looking up into the man that had saved her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She sobbed. “I am not hurt. I do not think. I am not burned.”
They helped her to her feet, and it was then that she saw the first floor of her home. It was completely engulfed in flame, the fire flickered out of the windows.
“No. No. The Douvains are inside, we must get to them,” she ran from the flames around toward the front of the building with the men following behind her, trying to stop her.
When she came to the front side of the street a large crowd had gathered. There was a line of water buckets being thrown onto the wall, but not to put out the current fire, to stop the fire from spreading before the firefighters could arrive to another building. It was a terraced home after all, and even though it was at the end of the block, it could burn miles down. It needed to be stopped as soon as possible.
“Mrs Douvain? Mr Douvain! Nancy!” she shouted moving through the sea of people. She did not see them.
“No! There are people inside. We must get to them!” she grabbed anyone near her, shaking them. But it was obvious that no one would be able to go inside, the fire was raging through the entire first floor and you could clearly be seen through the windows.
An Alone and Destitute Girl (#3, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel) Page 22
