by Joyce Alec
It was clear Sarah’s father had no choice but to leave. He spat in Sarah’s direction, one final, disgusting insult before turning around to make his way off the estate. Oliver held Sarah to him, feeling her sag in relief.
“He will never hurt you again,” he whispered. “Never again, my love.” She sobbed against his chest, blood staining his shirt. “I swear to protect you, Sarah, for the rest of my days. Will you have me?”
It was certainly not the most romantic proposal and not in the way or the place he had intended, but he needed to make her his own.
“Yes,” Sarah whispered, brokenly. “I will, Oliver.” How grateful she was for this man, how deep her love for him. He had saved her from her father, and now she would be his, forever. She was both happy and shaken in equal measure.
“Let us go inside, my dear,” Oliver said, putting a steadying arm around her shoulders. “We will need to get you cleaned up immediately.”
“The children?” she asked, anxiously. “Are the children all right?”
“Yes, yes,” he replied soothingly. “They were very good; they came straight to me. They will be worried about you, so we must reassure them that you are safe now.”
Leaning heavily against him, Sarah made her way back into the house, one that she could now think of as her own.
Chapter 10
Sarah winced as she awoke, her face still battered and bruised. With a soft knock, Meg entered the room, a few soft lavender compresses to hand. With gentle hands, she wiped and pressed Sarah’s bruises, chattering twenty to the dozen as usual.
“I heard you and the master are to be married, Miss!” she exclaimed. “That is good news indeed; we are all so pleased for you.”
“Thank you, Meg,” Sarah replied, feeling so content it almost overwhelmed her. “I am sure we shall be very happy.”
“Indeed you will, miss,” Meg laughed. “Twill be strange to call you Your Grace instead of ‘Miss,’ but I will get used to it, I am sure. Now, you must bathe your face like this both today and tomorrow, especially since you are to be announced at the ball.”
“What?” A look of surprise spread across Sarah’s face. “Announced at the ball? No, no Meg, I am staying with the children in the balcony. We are to watch the dancing before they go off to bed. Of course I am not to go the ball.”
“But you are, Miss,” Meg replied, a smile in her voice. “The master has ordered a ball gown to be made for you; the dresser will be coming soon for your measurements. You will be as pretty as a picture!”
The knock at Oliver’s door was not the usual butler’s knock. Rising to his feet, he opened it himself, chastising Sarah for knocking instead of just entering as she ought.
“You are going to be my wife, my love,” he murmured gently, examining her face carefully. “A duchess does not knock. I shall never grow tired of seeing you.”
“Oliver,” Sarah began, a firm look in her eye. “Meg tells me there is a dresser coming and that I am to be announced at the ball?”
“Indeed,” Oliver replied. “Why should you be surprised at that?”
Sarah did not know what to say for a moment. It all felt so strange.
“I am a governess, I –”
“You were a governess, you mean. My dear, you are no longer a governess, you are no longer Sarah Brown. You are Lady Sarah Sayers.”
“But to be living in this house, without a chaperone, what will people think of me?”
Oliver smiled, his final surprise at hand.
“I have thought of all that, my love. If you would do me the honor, I should very much like to marry you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” came the astonished reply.
“After what your father did to you, I did not want to take any chances. I rode all night and have returned with a Special License in my possession. We do not have to wait for the banns to be read; there is no need to wait any longer. If you are willing, we shall marry tomorrow and attend the ball as man and wife in the evening. What do you say, my love?”
Sarah felt as though all the breath left her body at once. She would be the Duchess of Huntington, the wife of Oliver and mother to both Elizabeth and Samuel. All in one day!
“What do the children think?” she asked, breathlessly.
Oliver chuckled.
“Of course you would think of the children at a time like this,” he laughed. “Have no fear, my love, I spoke to them both, and they are vastly in agreement with me. I believe Elizabeth has already decided she is to be your flower girl.”
Sarah smiled in relief. The children wanted her to be a part of their lives, and that was all the reassurance she needed.
“Very well, Oliver,” she replied quietly, sliding her arms around his neck. “I should be very pleased to marry you tomorrow.”
“It cannot come soon enough,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her with all the love that he felt.
***
The following morning dawned bright and early. Looking in the mirror, Sarah was relieved to find that her face, whilst not perfect, was certainly much improved from the day before. Meg assured her that, with a little thought, her hair could be artfully arranged to hide the worst of the remaining marks. The morning passed in a blur of preparations as she was bathed, dressed and prepared for her wedding day.
The moment had come. Elizabeth had walked down the aisle, throwing flower petals in all directions, a whirlwind of happiness. Samuel was standing stoically by his father’s side, although she saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. The two witnesses were ready, smiling broadly at her as she made her way towards Oliver.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” he whispered, taking her hand and tucking it under his arm. Sarah couldn’t speak, her happiness threatening tears once more as she thanked God for this man. She listened carefully to the vicar, speaking her words of love and respect and making her promises before Oliver and God. He slid a ring on to her finger, and it was done. They were man and wife. The Duke and Duchess of Huntington. She could hardly believe it. Together they walked out of the church to a flurry of well-wishers, who had come to see the new bride.
The happy couple had very little time to celebrate, with the Christmas ball quickly approaching. By now, news had spread of the duke’s sudden marriage and an air of expectation lay around the estate.
Sarah was nervous. The house was enchanting, decorated with wreathes and rich greenery, giving the house a beautifully festive scent. She was dressed in one of the finest gowns she had ever seen, her feet encased in beautifully soft slippers. Her hair was in an ornate design, and pearl earrings hung gracefully from her ears. She barely recognized herself. As she descended the stairs, Oliver felt his breath hitch. She was so beautiful. He took her hand and kissed it, wishing there were not gloves in-between his lips and her skin.
“You are majestic tonight, my dear. I shall be the envy of every man in the room.”
Sarah’s smile wavered just a little as she raised her chin and allowed her husband to lead her into the ballroom to prepare for the receiving line.
Sarah’s smile was fixed in place as she finished meeting the last of her guests. She had smiled and nodded for what seemed like hours and was grateful for Oliver’s presence beside her. She knew she was the object of people’s curiosity and did her best to ignore the many stares and whispers that came from behind gloved hands.
“Well done, my love,” Oliver murmured, his hand around her waist. “The worst is over. Let us enjoy the rest of the evening. Shall we?” He presented his arm to her, and she took it without hesitation, allowing him to lead her onto the floor. As the beginnings of a waltz began to play, Sarah realized they were the only couple on the floor.
“Oliver,” she whispered. “What if I make a mistake?”
He smiled at her, his voice for her ears only.
“It is just you and me, my love, just you and me. We are dancing as we were before. Do you remember?”
She nodded yes, still aware of every eye on her.
“Do not think of them, Sarah, look only at me. I shall count to three if it will help you to keep in time?” He was laughing now as the music began, teasing her out of her anxiety. Taking her hand more firmly in his, Oliver smiled at her once more, wishing he could kiss her worry away.
Sarah smiled at him in return, as though she knew his thoughts. Focusing on the love in his eyes, she forgot all about the people who watched them, her nerves dissipating.
“Oliver,” Sarah whispered. “I love you so.”
“I love you too, my dear,” he replied, pulling her close as they began to dance.
***
THE END
Diamonds and Earls
Text Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Johnson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2016
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33302
www.LoveLightFaith.com
Diamonds and Earls
By: Caroline Johnson
Diamonds and Earls
Chapter 1
The Gift of Friendship
When a woman nears the day of her wedding, she often finds herself without sense or caution. Much was the same for Lady Henrietta Boyle, who was so delighted with her circumstances that she was unaware of any strife or struggle that might be happening around her.
“Lord Pembrooke,” she said, smiling as wide as can be, “I am quite delighted about this dinner this evening. How wonderful it will be to enjoy some time with our friends before our wedding.”
Henrietta was a tall, slender woman with wide blue eyes and hair the color of straw in the middle of a summer's afternoon. She stood beside her brother, Lord Boyle, with the very same hair color, but eyes the color of clovers.
“It is quite hard to believe our wedding is in less than a fortnight,” a dapper gentleman replied. Unlike his betrothed, The Earl of Pembrooke’s hair was as dark as night and slightly curly, and he had eyes the color of stormy clouds. He reached for Henrietta’s hand and squeezed it. “I wish that it was tomorrow, if I could be so honest.”
“I do too, darling,” Henrietta replied.
Lord Boyle rolled his eyes dramatically. “Now, now, you two. Let us ensure you reserve your passionate exchanges for the wedding, shall we?”
The couple smiled at each other and then laughed.
“So let’s see these fabled jewels you have told me so much about,” Lord Boyle stated.
Lord Pembrooke smiled and turned to the cabinet set into the wall behind him. They stood in a smaller sitting room at the back of the house where the warmest afternoon sun reached, full of comfortable armchairs and bookshelves stacked high with more books than one could ever count, and a place that Henrietta greatly looked forward to spending time in when she and Lord Pembrooke were married.
The cabinet looked inconspicuous, made of a beautiful polished walnut, yet as Lord Pembrooke opened it wide, Henrietta had to stifle a gasp at the sparkling gems that were revealed when he stood aside.
Even her brother, Lord Boyle, seemed rather impressed. “My heavens, I have seen nothing quite like this in the whole of my life,” he said, smiling at Lord Pembrooke.
“Indeed,” said Lord Pembrooke. He grinned at his bride-to-be and said, “What do you think, my love? Can you imagine yourself wearing such fine jewels on the day we are wed?”
Henrietta took a tentative step towards the cabinet and peered more closely at the jewels.
There was a beautiful set of gems, a necklace made of five large diamonds, the middle stone larger than the rest, nestled in gold settings with a matching ring of considerable size, surrounded entirely by tiny emeralds.
The way the sunlight shone on them, they appeared to be glowing as if they were tiny stars in the dark cabinet. She longed to reach out and touch them, and at the same time, feared that they were far too priceless to be held.
“Dear sister, you will be as ravishing as a princess in these stones,” her brother said, patting her on the shoulder.
Henrietta beamed. “I don’t know about that…”
“Nonsense,” agreed Lord Pembrooke, nodding to Lord Boyle. “I am certain that there has never been a princess alive who has been, or who will be, as beautiful as you will be.”
There was a knock on the door, and Lord Pembrooke said, “Come in,” in response.
The door pushed open, and Lord Pembrooke’s butler, Mr. Hughes, stepped inside, bowing his head. “My lord, your guests have arrived.”
Lord Pembrooke and Lady Henrietta smiled at each other.
“Thank you, Mr. Hughes. We will join them shortly in the drawing room.”
Mr. Hughes smiled, his bushy mustache tilting up at the corners, and excused himself from the room.
“My dear Lady Henrietta, I have a request for you,” Lord Pembrooke said, looking down at her. “I wondered what your thoughts might be to show your jewels to our friends this evening?”
Henrietta furrowed her brow. “Why do you need my permission?”
Lord Pembrooke shrugged his shoulders. “You will be the one to wear them, and I don’t wish to spoil the surprise if you wish to keep it as such.”
“I think it would be wonderful for our friends to share in our joy,” she replied. “I am certain they will feel just as in awe of them as we are.”
Lord Boyle nodded. “I think they will greatly appreciate seeing them, for they are quite priceless pieces of your family’s treasure.”
There was another knock on the door.
“Mr. Hughes, I told you that we would join you all momentarily.”
The door opened, and the three turned to look to see who had come in.
Another young man with dark hair, slightly shorter than his older brother’s, strolled in the room. His high cheekbones and gentle eyes scanned the three standing beside the cabinet.
“Oh, it’s only you, William,” Lord Pembrooke said, turning to close the cabinet to the jewelry, looking relieved. “I wondered if perhaps Mr. Hughes had decided to be his typical assertive self.”
“Nonsense, brother,” said Lord William, smiling at them all. “Ah, Lord Boyle, and Lady Henrietta. How wonderful it is to see you once more.”
“A pleasure,” Lord Boyle replied, nodding his head and shaking his hand. “How have you been, friend?”
“Quite well, quite well. Attempting to avoid my brother in his fierce preparations for this wedding that is so quickly approaching.”
“Not fast enough, if you ask me,” replied his brother, grinning. “Shall we join our friends in the drawing room?”
"Indeed we should. They are all waiting anxiously to see you," replied Lord William.
The four of them made their way from the room, and Lord William hung back to stroll beside Lady Henrietta.
“How are you feeling, Lady Henrietta? Still certain you wish to marry my brother?” He asked, winking at her.
Henrietta laughed. “Oh, Lord William, your games always amuse me so. I do hope that one of my children will inherit your wit and charm.”
“Do you not think that my brother is charming? Perhaps we should keep that between you and me.” He laughed, and she joined in.
They stepped into the sitting room and were greeted by the faces of their friends. At once, Henrietta approached the beautiful Lady Charlotte, who had been Henrietta’s closest friend growing up. She embraced Henrietta tightly.
“Oh, dear cousin, how glad I am to see you!” She cried, pulling away from her, beaming. “It has been far too long.”
&
nbsp; “Hasn’t it only been a week?” Henrietta replied, laughing.
“Still, far too long!” Lady Charlotte said in response.
There was another face that appeared beside her cousin’s with thick mahogany hair and piercing silvery-blue eyes, a broad smile on her bright red lips. Henrietta’s face lit up.
Henrietta embraced the new woman as well. “Oh, Lady Mary! I am so pleased that you are here.”
Lady Mary hugged her tightly in reply. “I would not miss this dinner for the world!” She answered, still smiling.
Henrietta looked back and forth between her two friends. “I truly cannot share with you how grateful I am that you have come to help me prepare.”
“What good are friends if we are not helpful as well as beautiful?” Lady Mary replied, fluttering her eyes and brushing a hand over her lovely hair.
Lady Charlotte and Henrietta laughed.
“Darling, let’s not forget our other guests,” she heard Lord Pembrooke say to her, not unkindly. He smiled at her. “We will have plenty of time to catch up with everyone.”
“Of course,” Henrietta replied, smiling at her betrothed.
She turned to see a couple sitting upon the settee, a lovely pair that Henrietta recognized at once. She curtsied to them. “My lord and Lady Wingfield. How wonderful it is that you could join us this evening.”
“Dear Lady Henrietta, we are most pleased to be able to!” Lord Wingfield replied. “It has been far too long since the ball at Frostfield Park, and we are so honored to be able to join you for your wedding and all of the festivities prior.”
“Thank you so much for thinking so highly of us to invite us to your celebratory dinner this evening,” Lady Wingfield said, her voice quiet and smooth.
Henrietta beamed at the pair of them. “We would never think of leaving you out!” She took a step closer to them and said, “Truly you both are some of the few whose company we truly find enjoyable.” She turned to look up at Lord Pembrooke, who was speaking with the other couple on the other side of the room. “I was overjoyed when he suggested a dinner with our closest friends to celebrate our marriage before the big ceremony.”
