Charles laughed, shaking his head, amused at Lord Chester’s astute assessment of the Dowager Duchess.
“I haven’t – for exactly that reason. She’ll work it out soon enough!”
“Very good then.”
They spoke for a little longer, about estates, and about Charles’ plans and hopes for the future, before Charles took his leave of Lord Chester, and went in search of Maria. He found her, as so often, curled on a couch in the parlour, reading. She looked up as he entered, and smiled. She was so beautiful that it took his breath away – he was the luckiest man imaginable!
He went to her, and dropped onto the seat beside her, taking her hands in his. The book slipped unregarded to the floor.
“I just spoke to your father. He approves of me courting you – he even said that he’d wondered when I would ask!”
“Oh! Well… that is good, I think – I would not want him to be unhappy about us, although… even if he was unhappy, I suspect that I might, for you, be brave enough to defy him.”
He lifted her hand, and turned it over, pressing a kiss to her palm. Her scent surrounded him, and his mind was filled with the possibilities of a future with her by his side.
“Shall we celebrate? Will you allow me to drive you into the town, to take tea at that new little teashop?”
“What – right now?”
“Yes – why not? It is a rather beautiful day, almost beginning to feel truly like spring!”
She looked flustered for a moment, then nodded decisively.
“Yes, just let me change.”
She rushed from the room with the energy and appetite for life that had delighted him when she was younger. It was so good to see her like that again. He lifted the fallen book from the floor, and placed it on the table, then stood to gaze out of the window while he waited.
~~~~~
The teashop was crowded, as people from the surrounding areas came to try the new offerings in the town, and Maria almost wanted to run away, there were so many people, so many she did not know. But with her hand on Charles’ arm, she took a deep steadying breath, and continued.
The tea was delicious – a blend she had never tried before - and the little cakes served with it were both beautiful to see and delicately flavoured, with lemon, and exotic vanilla. She sat, and allowed the sounds to flow around her, hearing snippets of others’ conversations – none of which were about her. Her confidence grew, and soon she was completely ignoring the people around them, and simply talking to Charles.
As always lately, their discussion was about his plans for woollen mills in the north, and about the successes of the new farming methods he had introduced on many of the estates. She found herself genuinely interested, and realised, with a start, that she had learned a great deal about business and farming, just from the conversations of the last year. What might she do with that knowledge? She did not know, but she would, she suspected, find out as the next few months went forward.
On the way back, as they sat close beside each other on the seat of his curricle, she finally felt brave enough to ask a question that had long preyed on her mind.
“Charles… what will your mother think of you courting me? My experience with the Dowager Countess has made me rather wary of…”
“Never fear, Maria – you’ve known my mother all your life, haven’t you? You know that, no matter how imposing and autocratic she tries to seem, she always cares more for people’s happiness than anything else. Especially since Father and Richard died in the accident. But I have no intention of mentioning it to her yet – I don’t want her pushing us…”
Maria released a sigh of relief.
“Thank you! I do like your mother, but I think that if she made any attempt to direct me, I would be rather rude in response. After the Dowager Countess, I am resolved to never allow someone else to control me like that again.”
“Perhaps a shock like that would not be a bad thing for my mother… but she does mean well, always.”
“I will trust you to protect me from her enthusiasm. Or should I, more correctly, be trusting you to protect her from my prickliness?”
“Either will do – I will do my best to keep everyone happy – but you most of all.”
Maria nodded, and let the conversation lapse, instead admiring the way he handled the horses, and enjoying the early spring sun, savouring the fact that she had been brave, had been seen in public with Charles, and that nothing bad had happened.
~~~~~
“Do have another cake, Lady Chester.”
“I simply couldn’t, Your Grace, delicious as they are.”
The Dowager Duchess smiled at her neighbours, wondering about the cause of their visit. Not that they were distant neighbours in any way, but this visit seemed out of the normal run of things. She was sure that there was a purpose behind it.
“Aaah… Your Grace, there is a reason for our call today – beyond the excellence of your hospitality.”
“I suspected as much, Lord Chester – please do explain.”
“It’s about our daughter – and your son,” at the Duchess’ concerned expression, Lord Chester went on hastily, “no, no, not Hunter and Nerissa. Charles and Maria. Charles has asked my permission to court Maria, and I have given it.”
“That’s wonderful! I did see the indications that things were moving that way, but I was rather distracted by Alyse’s wedding. Do you expect that we’ll have another wedding to plan? I do so love organising weddings!”
“I suspect that we will. But… I wanted to ask your forbearance. Maria is still very shy of society, and public visibility, after her unpleasant experiences at Myniard House. The Dowager Countess is a most unpleasant woman, who tried her hardest to control Maria’s every movement, and to make her life miserable. Maria is, I believe, terrified of ever being in such a position again. I would not want your enthusiasm to be misinterpreted as being overbearing.”
The Dowager Duchess considered for a moment, deciding whether to be offended or not. In the end, if she was wholly honest with herself, she could understand Lord Chester’s fear. She knew that she was enthusiastic, and sometimes domineering, to a fault. She took a deep breath, and told herself to be gracious.
“I see. Thank you for the warning. I am, I know, a little overwhelming at times, to those who do not know me as well. My own children cheerfully defy me, to my chagrin, yet all has worked out well for them, in general. Am I correct in the understanding that you are asking me to politely ignore Charles and Maria’s affection for each other, until such time as they tell me themselves?”
“Yes, Your Grace, that is exactly what I am hoping you will do. I believe that they will be far happier if left to come to things in their own time – and I must say that I do not expect it to take very long.”
“I will, as you ask, pretend not to see. But I will start planning a wedding anyway, with your connivance, if you will – I do so enjoy it, and this is the last of my children to marry…”
“Of course. I think that we might all enjoy a little discreet planning.”
“We are agreed then.”
They went back to the tea and cakes, all well pleased with their agreement.
~~~~~
April went by in a haze of increasingly beautiful spring days and Charles delayed leaving on his usual rounds of Hunter’s estates. He could not bear to leave Maria – she was more beautiful every day, more confident and happy. They drove or rode out most days, no longer afraid to be seen together, allowing the world to see them.
He had expected, by now, to have been questioned by his mother, for the Dowager Duchess simply could not be unaware of his actions, but she was uncharacteristically silent. He was grateful, if puzzled.
The more time he spent with Maria, the more days that went by without anything but happiness, the less he wanted to wait – it was time to ask her the final question. They had spoken of the future, of his plans, of the things that she would like to do, but they had, always, avoided the word ‘ma
rriage’ – he had to assume that was because it still echoed in her mind attached to her miserable year at Myniard House. It was time to change that, it was time for him to ask her to marry him – but where, and when?
~~~~~
It was May, and Maria could hardly believe how different her life was, now. Each day that she spent with Charles was wonderful, but she had reached the point where she wanted more. Would he ask her to marry him? She did not know. She wanted him to, oh how much she wanted that. Her patience was wearing thin. At least she had a distraction. Nerissa and Hunter had not gone to London for the Season, due to Nerissa being increasing, so Nerissa had decided to hold a Ball.
It might not be as glittering as those in London, but Meltonbrook Chase would host a sizeable crowd of the nobility, and everyone was looking forward to the entertainment. Even Maria, who had been recruited to assist with the arrangements.
On the night of the Ball, Maria stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. She barely recognised herself. Annie had worked wonders with her hair, which was piled high and featured a tiny headpiece, attached to which was the beautiful brooch and feathers that Charles had given her. The dress she wore echoed the colours of the feathers – a pale green underlayer, overlaid with a fine dark net, which was covered in hundreds of tiny glittering beads, as iridescent as the feathers. It was a stunning piece of work, and she adored it. She hoped that Charles would love it too – the thought of seeing him made her warm all over, as it always did.
She descended the stairs, and the carriage took them to Meltonbrook Chase. She felt as if the last two years had never happened, as if she was a young girl in her first season, all over again, giddy with excitement and longing. It was, she decided, a far nicer sensation the second time around.
When they entered the foyer, where Charles stood with the rest of his family, receiving the guests, her eyes went straight to him. He finished greeting Lady Willforth, and turned. She knew the instant that he saw her, for he stilled utterly, his eyes widening. Then he smiled, the smile that made him seem even more handsome than usual, the smile that made her forget that anyone else existed, and he held out his hand. She took it.
“I did not think it possible that you could look more beautiful than ever before, but you do. That gown is magnificent.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Nerissa’s voice contained envy, and she sighed in awe of the gown, which Maria had intentionally not shown her before.
“Thank you! But I should move on into the ballroom, I am holding up your receiving line.”
Charles released her hand, reluctantly, and Maria moved past him, and away. Suddenly the time until he would be finished greeting guests seemed interminable, she wished, with such intensity, that he was by her side.
But the time passed, as time does, no matter how we wish to speed or slow it, and finally, as she stood with her parents at one side of the room, he appeared before her. He bowed over her hand, his eyes sparkling with something that might have been mischief.
“Will you grant me the delight of dancing with you, my Lady?”
“I will, my Lord.”
He offered her his arm, and led her away. Unseen by Maria, her parents exchanged a satisfied look as she left them. They joined the set for that was forming for the dance, and soon Maria was laughing, enjoying the simple pleasure of the bouncing country dance, the steps coming back to her, even after so long unpractised. By the time the music ended, she was short of breath, and overheated. Charles offered his arm, and they moved to the refreshment table then, glasses in hand, they settled on a couch at one side of the room, in a quieter corner.
“It is wonderful to see you laughing and enjoying yourself. You were so subdued for far too long.”
“I was, wasn’t I? I did not realise how much life at Myniard house changed me, until now. Tonight, I feel as if, finally, I have left all of that behind.”
Charles looked at her, his eyes filled with love, and she wanted, immediately, to melt against him, to feel his arms around her. She did not move, but her expression must have made her thoughts clear.
“Walk with me? On the terrace?”
“Yes.”
Her voice came soft, a little shaky as she rose. She felt as if something momentous was about to happen, as if the evening was a fairytale, filled with magic. He led her to the terrace, and along to the far end, where tiny climbing roses were blooming in a sprawl over the balustrade and the wall of the house. The scent was intoxicating. They stood, and time slowed, the only sound the hard beating of her heart. She watched as he raised his arms and reached for her, and went into his arms willingly. The scent of the roses was joined by the even more intoxicating scent of him.
He tilted her face up, and their eyes met. When his lips brushed hers, her eyes fluttered shut, and she gave herself entirely to the sensation. No memories of the past tarnished the moment. There was only Charles, only now, only happiness.
When he finally drew back a little, she opened her eyes, feeling the loss of his lips on hers as an almost physical pain.
“Maria, my darling Maria, I have waited long enough, I think, we both have. Maria, will you marry me? I cannot imagine life without you, could not bear to live in such emptiness.”
Her heart beat faster, her breath hitched, and her mouth felt dry. He had said the words – the words that she had wanted to hear for so long now. She rose onto her toes, and brought her lips to touch his, butterfly soft.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips, then the world swirled away as his arms tightened around her, and he deepened the kiss, filling it with all of the longing for her that he had carried for so many years.
When they went back into the ballroom, they went straight to where her parents stood, talking to Charles’ mother.
“I wish to inform you that Lady Granville has just done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the Dowager Duchess was speaking.
“At last! I thought that you would never get to it. I do so love weddings!”
Everyone laughed, and, as the Dowager Duchess and Lady Chester turned to each other, and instantly began discussing wedding plans, Charles drew Maria away, and swept her into his arms, and out to dance the waltz that was just beginning.
Epilogue
In the end, Maria’s only request for the wedding was that it be as different as possible from her first wedding. So, instead of St George’s in London, it was held at the church in Meltonbrook village, and the guest list was relatively small, although the extended group of friends and family was still quite large. The dress that Maria wore was simple, yet more beautiful for it. It was a shimmering gold lace over a rich cream underskirt, and embellished with tiny red gems scattered over the lace. In the summer sun that June, the dress, and her golden hair, caught the light, and she seemed to glow, like an angel, or something magical.
Charles watched, enraptured, as she walked towards him. Every time he thought that she could not look more beautiful, she did so. That she was finally to be his seemed unreal, yet it was true. She reached his side, and the ceremony began – passing in a blur of happiness, where he was, in every instant, utterly aware of Maria, beside him. Finally, the last words were spoken, and they turned to step out of the church.
The sunlight through the small stained-glass windows cast shards of colour over them as they moved, and time seemed slowed. They stepped through the door, and, as Charles had expected, were greeted by a veritable cascade of rose petals. He pulled her into his arms, there on the steps, in front of everyone, and kissed her.
~~~~~
Maria woke slowly, cocooned in warmth. She opened her eyes, and memory came rushing back. She was married again! She turned to watch Charles, as the morning light through the window cast his handsome face into sharp relief. This was how she wanted to wake every morning – in the arms of the man she loved.
Tomorrow, they would leave here, leave Chester Park and Meltonbroo
k Chase behind, and travel north. As a wedding present, Hunter had gifted them Millford Grange, the estate that Charles had long wanted to use as the start of a business in woollen mills.
Maria could not imagine a better life than the one before her – a far cry from the bright social swirl that she had imagined herself living, before she had married Edmund. Now, whilst some Seasons in London would be enjoyable, she looked forward to long years with Charles, mostly spent on their estate.
And, best of all, she was no longer Lady Granville. Now, she was Viscountess Wareham. Lady Wareham was a far more appealing name, far more. Now, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, left of that terrible year to taint her life.
Even her memories of the marital bed had been replaced. She looked at Charles, her lips curving into a happy smile. Now, she finally understood what Nerissa had meant, all those months ago in London.
“You look happy, my darling.”
“I am, I am so very happy, husband.”
He pulled her to him, and kissed her, and everything else became irrelevant. There was time – she had the rest of her life to build with him.
The End.
About the Author
Arietta Richmond has been a compulsive reader and writer all her life. Whilst her reading has covered an enormous range of topics, history has always fascinated her, and historical novels have been amongst her favourite reading.
She has written a wide range of work, from business articles and other non-fiction works (published under a pen name) but fiction has always been a major part of her life. Now, her Regency Historical Romance books are finally being released. The Derbyshire Set is comprised of 10 novels (7 released so far). The ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ series is comprised of 16 novels, with the thirteenth having just been released.
She also has a standalone longer novel shortly to be released, and two other series of novels in development.
Rescuing the Countess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 13) Page 15
