by Matilda Hart
“That is just as well,” he said, smiling widely, “as it is you I have come to see.”
Stepping aside, she let him pass and closed the door. Steeling her heart against him, she turned and went back to sit in the rocking chair she had been occupying.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, regal as a queen.
“You look well,” he said, ignoring her question. “And the role of mother looks good on you.”
He looked around. “These are for you,” he said, indicating the flowers in his hand. “Where can I put them?”
Anna pointed to a shallow basin on the counter by the door and said, “You may rest them in that.”
He did as she instructed, and then began to remove the contents of the basket. There was crusty bread, cheese, apples and grapes, wine and a small can of chocolate, and two pewter mugs for drinking. Her eyes welled up as she recalled the last time she had seen those very items.
“What are you doing?" she asked him.
“Setting the scene,” he replied, and opened the wine. After he poured the wine, he handed her a cup and said, “What would you like to try first?”
“What do you mean by setting the scene? What scene?”
She ignored his question, but he went ahead and cut some bread and some cheese and placed it before her on a napkin, along with an apple and some grapes.
“The last time we enjoyed this repast together, I took something precious from you, something I can never return to you.” He sipped his wine, while Anna watched him. “Today, I would like to give you something in return. Something you have dreamed about. All you have to do is say yes.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded, and he put his mug down and went down on one knee before her.
“Annabelle Tracy, my beauty, you have always wanted to marry a knight in shining armor. My armor is admittedly dulled by my poor decisions these past two months, but will you forgive me for being a coward and not choosing you when I should have? And will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes overflowed, and she wept into his shoulder as he hugged her tenderly and let her cry. The babe in her arms stirred, and she came back to herself. Daniel wiped her cheeks, held the handkerchief so that she could blow her nose, and when the babe had dozed off again, he took her hand in his and repeated his questions.
This time, she said yes.
After that, things seemed to go more quickly than she would have imagined that they could. Her family all returned at once, with Lavender carrying a beautiful bridal gown that her mother had made for her, right under her very nose, using her as the model for her gown while telling her it was for someone in another village who was her height and build. She laughed as they helped her dress. Daniel had the master bedroom, so she was dressed in the children’s room. Then, once Daniel left for the chapel, where George had gone to prepare the way, she heard the clip clop of horses’ hooves and a carriage pulled up before her sister’s door.
She was led out by her brother-in-law, who helped her and her sister into the carriage. A second one came to take the rest of the family. By this time, the villagers had realized that something was afoot, but they would have to wait for news of the occasion until after it was all done. Anna arrived and was escorted in by her father, after everyone except lavender had gone in to take their seats. George and lavender stood up for Daniel and for her, and the simple ceremony went off without a hitch. Daniel was glowing as he made his vows, and she could hardly speak when it was her turn.
Daniel’s parents sat stiffly in their pew, but his sisters smiled widely at her as she passed by on the arm of her new husband. The reception was held at the manor house, attended only by the family. The food was plentiful, and some of it catered by the innkeeper and his wife, who were the only others privy to the happy news. They happy couple danced into the night, and everyone was invited to spend the night at the manor. Daniel could not remember a time when the house had been more alive, except perhaps when they had all been small children. He was looking forward to bringing that happiness back.
And so was his mother, apparently, for whom the idea of a grandchild to fuss over had become the thing she liked more than she disliked the idea of having the hunter’s daughter as family. His father was still unhappy with his choice, and made no bones about telling him so at every opportunity. At least he had been civil today, for which Daniel was grateful. And he had not been disowned, largely, he realized, because his mother didn’t want her grandchildren to be disinherited. Perhaps in time she would win him over. He knew that if she didn’t, his beauty would.
At last, the festivities were done, the guests retired, the house silent. Daniel waited patiently for his wife to make her appearance. He had never seen his beauty naked, nor even dressed only in her night rail, and the excitement he felt was almost choking him. At last the connecting door between their bedchambers opened and she walked in, her ripening body silhouetted against the wall by the candlelight. She approached him shyly, and he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her gently.
“How are you this evening, Lady Anna?” he asked.
“I am well, my Lord,” she replied. She reached up to stroke his face and added, “Thank you for today. This has been the best day of my life!”
“Only the best for my lady,” he said. “I wanted it to be a happy surprise, to make up for the less than happy one that being with child must have been for you.”
“You did very well, my Lord,” she said. “I could not have been more shocked than when mama told me she had been making my gown all along, and me never knowing or suspecting a thing.”
“Your mother is a good woman, my love, and your father a good man.”
She sighed into his chest. “Your father disapproves of me, still, does he not?”
“He will come round, my love,” Daniel said. “Between you and my mother, he does not stand a chance.”
She laughed, “I hope that you are right.”
“But enough talk of others now,” he said. “It is time to speak of us and our desires. I will tell you mine, if you will tell me yours.”
Anna looked him over with an assessing eye. “What are your desires, my Lord?” she asked.
He kissed her tenderly first, and then said, “To make love to you until you fall asleep. And when you wake up again, to start all over.”
Anna smiled. “Then my wish is to do everything I can to make your wishes come true, my Lord. I only want to keep you with me forever. I never want to lose you again.”
She pulled his head down for another kiss, and they hugged each other tightly. Daniel tried to remember that she was with child as the passion mounted between them, but she kept pulling him in deeper and deeper with the potency of her kisses. It was as though she had been starving for him, and now that she had him, she would make a thorough meal of him.
“I don’t wish to hurt you, my love,” he said, “or our baby.”
“The baby and I will be better when you stop holding back and take me, husband,” she said sharply, nipping his lip.
Daniel laughed, and sucked her lips into his mouth. “You drive a hard bargain, wife,” he said. I shall do my best to make tonight as wonderful for you as today has been.”
Then he stopped talking and made good on his promise with his hands that roamed and stroked and dipped, and his tongue that licked and sucked her in, and his hard rod that finally, when she was thrashing beneath him on the bed, sank into her wet depths and took her over and over again, driving her up and over the top time and again until she was hoarse with her releases. And after she had slept, when his need rose within him once again, Daniel woke his wife and took her, and made her his again. At last, sated for the moment, he let her sleep once more, and sent the maid away when she came to wake her. He let her sleep because he knew that he would take her again. She would not leave his bed until she knew that he was hers forever.
He held her gently as she slept, his
hand over her belly. She stirred and turned to face him, and he kissed her lips tenderly. She did not wake, and he pulled her close until her head rested on his chest. The he let himself relax, and draw in the peace that she exuded. At last he had found the one thing he never knew he wanted. He kissed her again.
“I will make all your dreams come true, my beauty,” he promised her.
And then he slept.
THE END
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Winning The Duke’s Love
Introduction
When the young, strong-willed Joan Lebeau is sent to London to find a suitable husband, every ounce of her being fights against the endless and frustrating game of finding a husband. While literally running from a party with all the speed she can manage - the corsets alone might kill her - Joan runs into Duke Emil Lawrence; himself trying to escape. What the two discover in one another is a mutual independent spirit and fiery determination to be free from the marriage game. They come up with a brilliant plan to fake an engagement to one another so that they can enjoy their individual lives once again. Their perfect friendship is challenged when Joan and Emil - like peas in a pod - begin to experience feelings for one another that they had never expected. After the luminous Joan Lebeau wins the Duke’s heart, is there any possible way of going back to being free again?
Chapter One
“Joan! Joan, where have you gone?” Pierre Lebeau yelled towards the east side of the Versailles gardens. It was always at that hour that it was impossible for Pierre to locate his daughter. He knew that she was a rambunctious young girl, but it still pained him to discipline her.
Along the royal topiary path, Joan could hear her father calling. It annoyed her to no end to have him interrupt her time with her special ‘gang’. They sometimes called themselves the Lost Boys - Garçons Perdus - and Joan was of such a tomboyish inclination that one could scarce differentiate her from the other young men in her gang.
“Mon dieu.” Joan exclaimed. “It’s time for tea.”
“Oh, Joan has to go off for tea and sandwiches in her finest hoops and petticoats!” Jean Luc teased.
“Is daddy going to put a corset on you?” Robard exclaimed. The boys always got a great laugh from making fun of Joan and her true status as a female. They found it endlessly amusing that even though she was a young woman living in one of the most fashionable cities in the world, she still chose to array herself in shabby, country clothes.
“I shall wear whatever I choose.” Joan shot back. She never did take the teasing all too seriously, but deep down she could sense that the time for petticoats and corsets was indeed upon her. Joan’s eighteenth birthday was only one day away.
“I think you should marry Robard!” Jean Luc said with a laugh.
“I’d rather be dead.” Joan said, kicking a rock in the sandy path.
The gang consisted of five boys - and Joan. They would meet almost every day at the same hour in the late afternoon to fight fake battles, throw rocks at shrubbery, and enjoy the occasional wrestling match. They were a quarrelsome bunch, and had been for the 8 years that they had known each other.
When they were younger, it didn’t seem strange in the slightest that Joan was a girl partaking of their boyish games, and indeed it didn’t even strike them as being odd until some months before. So tight was their friendship, that the truth refused to sink in for many years.
And that truth was that Joan - named after Joan De Arc; brave French heroine who saved France some hundreds of years before Joan Lebeau was even born - was indeed going to have to take on the life of a traditional woman quite soon. Certainly living in the Village of Versailles, even though the daughter to an architect, it would be expected of Joan to find an eligible man of considerable rank to marry. The prospect horrified her to no end.
“Even your famous architect father couldn’t construct a gown and hat for you that would make you look like a woman.” Etienne scoffed.
“That’s it.” Joan exclaimed, and proceeded to smack Etienne so hard atop his head that the young man screamed.
“Joan! Must you do this every day.” Pierre yelled.
“Good heavens. I must go. I can’t have him yelling like that all afternoon.” Joan said with a sigh.
“Goodbye, Lark. See you tomorrow.” Jean Luc gave her a little punch to the shoulder. The boys often called her “Lark”, in homage to Joan De Arc. Joan secretly loved that that was her nickname, although she always rolled her eyes whenever they said it.
As Joan ran back towards the palace, she considered how sorry she felt for her father. Even considering his wealth and impact as an architect, Pierre hated everything that had to do with the government, but was nonetheless a slave to it. He had to deal with its highest officials on a daily basis.
The truth was that Pierre thought he was in fact escaping the Government when he moved to Versailles. His home there was a gift from the King himself, and by going there he believed he was saying goodbye to government work forever. That was, until he realized that even though he left the whole scene, it wouldn’t be long until they came to him. But Pierre had become so accustomed to his beautiful home - and had Joan to take care of - that he didn’t have the heart to leave and fulfill his dream of living in the country.
The reason that he was brought to the Village was simple: there were ample renovations to the chateau and gardens of Versailles, sponsored by King Louis XVIII. The monarch insisted upon Pierre’s services.
Joan wished that her father could one day move to the country, as he had once dreamed of doing. Being held so close by the government had made him quite temperamental and melancholy over the years, and since Joan was the only woman in her father’s life, she sometimes took the brunt of it.
And Joan, too, was beginning to feel the stress of it all. Most of her life living in Versailles she was able to escape the keen gaze of the rich and powerful. In fact, Pierre had allowed his bright, energetic daughter to do as she pleased - something that he was beginning to regret deeply.
Joan never gave much care to her appearance or aspirations of one day finding a husband. Instead she spent most of her time playing with her little gang, reading books, swimming in the river, and staying outdoors in the fresh air. She had been an explorer, both of the the world around her and an explorer of the mind; devouring any book she could get her hands on.
“Here I am, father. Stop your hollering.” Joan threw her arms around Pierre.
With his child in his arms, Pierre felt as though everything that had gone wrong in his life had been righted.
“I don’t know why I let you come to these gardens.” Pierre said with a sigh.
“Oh come on. There is so much shrubbery that it’s impossible to be seen by anyone anyhow.” Joan explained.
“You call the finest gardens in the world ‘shrubbery’?” Pierre exclaimed.
“Yes, I do.” Joan said with a nod of her head.
“Who spoiled you so?” Pierre asked with a warm smile.
“No one. I raised myself.” Joan flung her shoulders back.
“Ha ho you did!” Pierre said, taking her by the arm and leading her towards the exit gates.
“Don’t you realize the irony of hating t
he government so, spending most of your life complaining about it all, and then demanding tea with me every afternoon so that you can discuss how much you dislike it all!” Joan exclaimed.
“I need you for moral courage.” Pierre said.
Joan dropped her head in understanding. Indeed, Pierre, despite his great gifts, was a man that had developed great anxiety throughout the years. He argued that it was due to the buffoonery of the court, but Joan knew that it had much to do with her late mother, Marie. She died during childbirth when Joan was scarcely two. She never knew Marie Lebeau, but she did know that the woman was once Pierre’s rock.
“Besides, we’re not discussing any of that riffraff today. Your aunt has come to Versailles from London, and she wishes to see you.” Pierre explained.
