Chapter One

Careful, Adelaide, do not rush … let it flow through you … that’s better. Nice and easy, gentle, like a soft breeze drifting across the meadow. Better to let it take you than to try and fight      it.

A delighted smile slowly crept up Lady Adelaide Cavendish’s face as she found her rhythm. It was not always an easy thing to find, and sometimes she might go for hours without truly capturing it. But when she had it, when she felt it take her, she knew that magic was what would happen next.

She referred to this rhythm as her ‘spark’ and like a tinder box setting ablaze a bundle of sticks in the deepest and darkest of nights, it was truly a thing of wonder to behold. It was safety. It was confirmation of her ability. Most of all, it was life itself.

The smile grew as her hand moved across the blank page of her sketchbook.

Adelaide held between her two fingers a piece of charcoal for sketching, and it was all that she needed to make her vision come alive. She knew that many liked to use watercolors and paint, as if such things were needed to create raw beauty, but Adelaide had never seen the point.

To her, true beauty was not something that one forced but something that one found. Sure, she could color her drawings brightly, and that might make her artwork appear more vivid upon first inspection. But it was false beauty, certainly not earned, and it did not last.

She was on her hands and knees at      the moment, tucked away in the attic of her home … no, not my home. I might have been raised here. I might live here now. But it will never be mine…

That most depressing thought attempted to burrow itself inside of Adelaide, and she did all that she could to keep it at bay. She drew best when she was happy and carefree, when the plagues of the real world could be forgotten, if only for a moment.

The spark inside of her … it threatened to fade … her drawing hand faltered … she took a deep breath, released the bad thoughts, and exhaled      as if to expel such awfulness.

There you are, Adelaide. Much better. What matters is what is in front of you, what you have control of. Beauty found in the rawness of the world beyond what you might ever hope to live in.

Her drawing was a simple one, but the best drawings always were. It was that of the countryside, one she had never been to, but that she was able to picture clearly as if she was standing in it right now. A luscious meadow of wheat, a babbling brook with clear water, and trimmed hedges that followed an empty road which wound beyond the edges of the page. Where it led, she could not say, but that was part of what made these drawings so special.

The hours passed as she drew. The sun, once shining through the small window and lighting her book perfectly, dropped so that shadows crossed the page and haunted her drawing. A coldness suddenly descended on the small attic space. And worst of all, Adelaide’s mind wandered…

That was the problem with allowing one’s thoughts to roam so freely. Sometimes, they went to the worst places.

It was the charcoal that smudged her hands that did it, the smell that it brought. Pair that with the sudden darkness that creeped across the attic, and it was no wonder that memories of sorrow and pain found their way into Adelaide’s thoughts.

Her hand slipped when images of fire and ash brea     ched her tranquility. Her arm started to shake when she thought that she could smell smoke. And when she shut her eyes, the dull echo of screams sounded in the back of her mind as if she had returned to that most terrible moment in her life.

No … deep breaths, Adelaide … do not let them take you.

It was a rare thing for these memories to visit her, and they happened less the older she became     . In fact, it was only when her mood was      its most dower, when she was at her loneliest, that they came to her. And when considering the news that she waited upon today … it was little wonder they had struck her the way they did.

Adelaide’s spark left her then, as did the mood to draw further. Now, all she could think about was that fire, and it burned hot and bright in her mind’s eye as if to mock her.

On instinct, she flipped through her sketchbook to where she kept a small purple ribbon, singed around the edges, good for little else but marking her place. She pulled it out, held it tight, and breathed in deeply.

It was ironic in a way that the ribbon came from that same fire which haunted her. But where the fire struck her with terror, the ribbon brought her peace. It was the one thing she had to remember her parents by, as sad as that was to say, and so long as she had it then she would never forget them.

Her racing heart softened. Her breathing returned to normal. Adelaide allowed a soft smile, holding the ribbon to her face, because when she did, she could almost see her mother’s smile … she could almost remember what she looked like.

“It is done,” Adelaide heard the female voice speak from just below her feet. “And about time, I must say. The Earl has dragged his feet with such stubbornness that I had half a mind to call the whole thing off!”

“It is done?” a male voice spoke. “He has agreed?”

“He has agreed to meet with her before he comes to his final decision.” The woman sighed loudly. “But for all intents and purposes, should nothing go awry, I feel confident in saying that all our hard work will have finally paid off.”

“All your hard work, dear. This is your victory.”

“You are too kind. But thank you. It is nice to be appreciated for a change. The Lord knows that she certainly never will.”

The female voice belonged to Lady Millicent Davenport, while the male voice was that of Mr. Arthur Davenport. They were A     unt and U     ncle to Adelaide, as well as her legal guardians. They had been such since Adelaide was just a little girl, no older than five, when her parents had died in a tragic fire.

Sometimes, as wretched as it is to say, I wish that fire took me also…

Adelaide would never say such a thing out loud, and she did not really mean it. Her life was not as bad as many      and certainly better than most, but that did not mean it was one that she coveted. Her aunt and uncle looked after her, raised her, and for that she would always be grateful.

But they were also cruel and self-serving, they gave her only as much as she needed, never more than that, and rarely, if ever, did they show Adelaide anything that might be misconstrued as affection.

Adelaide lived a lonely life. A sad life. A life from which her only escape was her drawings and the poetry that she wrote. She was the daughter of a count, but she was treated as little better than a housekeeper, and her aunt and uncle loved to remind her of how much she owed them.

“When are they set to meet?” her uncle’s voice drifted from beneath the floorboards. “I presume you have set a date?”

“Tomorrow,” her aunt announced proudly. “Would you believe that he wished to wait another week? He wants to see me beg, is why. To throw myself at his feet like a commoner.”

“Disgusting.”

“But I wore the Earl down, reminding him that Adelaide’s hand was not without interest and should he dally for much longer, he might find her no longer available.” Her aunt laughed coldly. “Can you imagine? Another suitor? It was hard enough to find one who would have her.”

“She has not made it easy on us,” her uncle sighed.

“All will be worth it soon, Aruthur,” her aunt purred. “Once she is married to an earl, our standing will rise considerably. And then, all those wasted years…” She sighed loudly as if in great discomfort. “They might finally start to pay off.”

Her aunt and uncle laughed together, a most wicked sound, appropriate, as the plan they had conceived together was a most wicked thing.

Adelaide might have cried when she heard her aunt and uncle’s words, and when she understood their meaning. Sadly, she had learned long ago that tears did her little good, so what was the point in wasting them?

All she had was the purple ribbon, a reminder of better times, and she clutched it to her chest for comfort.

She was not in the attic by pure coincidence, nor had she come up here for inspiration. Rather, she had chosen this spot specifically because it was right about her uncle’s office, which allowed her to listen and learn without being discovered.

For six months now, her aunt and uncle had schemed together as they sought for Adelaide a husband. She was twenty and one, the daughter of a count, and it was time that she married someone who society deemed worthy of her standing. 

Also, someone who her aunt and uncle could take advantage of.

For six months, Adelaide had been forced to watch, unable to intervene, as suitor after suitor passed her over. It might have stung, was it not for the fact that Adelaide harbored no desire to wed. But that was not because she did not wish to meet the man of her dreams and fall in love. If it was possible, she would yearn for such things.

The simple fact is, I am not worthy of such a happy ending as that. Even if the man of my dreams existed, he would never want me, he would never love me, so why waste time wishing for the impossible?

Sadly, as was now proven, it appeared that Adelaide’s fears were right.

The earl to whom they referred was Julien Redgrave, the Earl of Highmere Park, and from the little Adelaide had heard of the man, he was as cold and cruel and wicked as they came.

Not a man to fall in love with, and certainly not a man who she might want to spend the rest of her life with…

“Have you told Adelaide yet?” her uncle’s voice rose from beneath the floorboards.

“Of course not,” her aunt scoffed. “If I tell her too soon, she will spend the evening moping about like a wet blanket. I will inform her tomorrow, just before the earl arrives.”

“Ah, good idea.”

“Just as I will make sure that she knows the cost of ruining this arrangement.” Her tone turned to ice. “As will you. She has been a burden on us for too long, Arthur. Tomorrow must go perfectly.”

A most wicked thought suddenly came to mind and, for a moment, Adelai     de dared to dream… 

What if I was to somehow scare the Earl off? Misbehave? Act like an immature little girl so he will refuse me? If that happens, they might finally understand that I am not someone who they can order about as if I am worth nothing…

It was a nice thought to have, but Adelaide knew herself well enough to understand that such games were not those that she might ever play. Having been raised the way she was, the thought of acting out terrified Adelaide. 

All she could do was be herself and hope that might be enough to change the Earl’s mind…

“Where is she, anyway?” her uncle asked sharply. “I have not seen the little brat all day.”

“Who knows with that one. Wasting her time with her drawing, probably.”

With the conversation over, Adelaide crept back, careful not to be overheard. She collected her sketchbook, tucked her purple ribbon back into the pages, and made her way toward the stairwell which led into the upper hallway.

Her mind was awash with fear. She walked aimlessly down the hallway, already picturing her life with the Earl and how tragic it would be. 

As awful as my life is under this roof, I cannot escape the feeling that life as the Earl’s wife will be even worse. 

“Lady Adelaide!” a voice cried from down the hallway.

Adelaide started in surprise, not expecting anyone to be in this hallway. But she turned, saw who it was, and forced a smile. “Eliza, I did not see you.”

Mrs. Eliza Turner was Adelaide’s chambermaid and had been since Adelaide first moved into this home. Where everyone else in her life was cruel to her, or ignored her completely, Eliza was a ray of sunshine who was as close to a mother figure as Adelaide had ever known.

“What is wrong, girl?” Eliza hurried toward her. “And do not lie to me.”

“Oh, it is awful, Eliza…” Adeliade told Eliza of her aunt and uncle’s schemes to marry her. By the time she finished, she sniffed back the onset of tears and her body shook, forcing Eliza to take her in her arms and hold her close.

“Hush, child,” she cooed as she held her. “I am sure it won’t be nearly so bad as that.”

“It will be worse,” Adelaide said, allowing Eliza to lead her down the hallway and toward her room. “The Earl … he is said to be wicked, even downright cruel. How could they marry me to him?”

“What is it you are always telling me about your drawings?” she offered. “Finding beauty where no one else can see it. Your words.”

“The Earl is not some drawing.”

“But he is human,” Eliza offered. “As are you. We are not such simple creatures, us humans, and I am sure that if anyone can see past his ugliness, it is you.” She kissed Adelai     de on the cheek. “I know you will.”

Adelai     de wanted to heed Eliza’s words. She wanted to see the reason in them. But the spark inside of Adelai     de had well and truly died out, she doubted it would return anytime soon, and when that happened, it was almost impossible to find the beauty she so desperately needed.

Likely, such beauty would never return again.

Chapter Two

 

“Remind me again, where are we off to?” Lord Frederick Montague fidgeted on the seat as if he had been sitting for hours, even if it had only been minutes since they left.

Lord Julien Redgrave, the Earl of Highmere Park exhaled sharply. “It is as I have said. We are making a quick stop in the local village to purchase a gift.”

“Ah yes,” Frederick said, nodding his head in understanding. “It is all coming back to me now.”

“You did not have to come,” Julien huffed. “In fact, I would have preferred if you hadn’t.”

“And miss the chance to see my closest of friends dip his toes into the pool of romance? Never!”

“As I was also sure to explain to you, there is nothing remotely romantic about it.” He fixed his friend with a glare of warning. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped saying as much.”

“Just as I would appreciate if you reupholstered these seats once in a while.” He squirmed on the seat and grimaced. “My backside is already raw.”

“Did you stop to think that there is a good reason that I have not?”

“Please tell me.”

Julien allowed himself a slight smirk. “It is to discourage company. I thought to have the seat removed entirely … now I wish that I had.”

“How rude.”

“I never pretended I wasn’t.”

Frederick rolled his eyes at the droll comment, even as he continued to fidget. While Julien exhaled deeply, wishing that his friend had not chosen to come, while also appreciating his company nonetheless because this was not a task he looked forward to doing.

I would rather have my toenails removed … I would rather have each hair from my body plucked out one at a time … I would rather, well, just about anything else, other than this.

It was early in the morning as      Julien and Frederick sat across from one another in a carriage as it gently rattled along the dirt road in the direction of the closest village to Frederick’s manor. There were several such villages on his estate, and ones far better suited for what he was there to do     .

However, Julien cared little about this task, or its outcome, and he only committed to it because it was the right thing to do. Which was, in all honesty, the story of his life of late.

“I still cannot believe it.” Fredick found some semblance of comfort as he fixed a most wicked look on his visage. “Julien Redgrave, the Earl of Highmere Park, married. Who would have thought!”

“I am not married yet.”

“Oh, but you will be.” He waved Julien down. “That you are off to buy a gift for your sweet bride is proof enough of the fact. And I must say how proud of you I am, Julien. It is about time.”

Julien exhaled sharply from his nose. “Pride has nothing to do with it. Nor does romance…” He raised a warning eyebrow at his friend, knowing what was on his mind. “As you know, I have no choice in the matter. Damnation, if there was anything I could do other than wed, you know I would not hesitate.”

“It is like a story out of a fairytale.”

“As for my choice in bride? I ask that you dispel all notions that this is some sort of love match.” He held his glare on Frederick, who continued to grin like a schoolboy. “As I have already explained, Lady Adelaide is as good an option as I could have hoped for. Her parents are deceased. Her guardians are realistic. And I am assured that she is the type who will not cause a fuss or make my life hell, once we are wed.” He groaned at the thought. “A marriage of convenience is what this is, and it is all it ever will be.”

“I have been in business meetings spoken with more flavor than this.”

“That’s what this is,” Julien pointed out. “It is business. And I will ensure that Lady Adelaide knows it. That is assuming nothing goes wrong in the meantime.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged and turned to look out the window, watching the farmland pass him by. “Likely nothing. Short of this Lady Adelaide announcing herself as verifiably insane or what have you…” He sighed and his stomach twisted with regret. “She will do, is my point. We will wed, and that will be that.”

“Hear, hear,” Frederick mocked.

I have always known it would come to this. Raised in the peerage. Bred to understand what is expected of me. There is no reason this should surprise me as it has done, or upset me. And yet … no, no sense in moping. Such is the way of the world, and this is my fate.

Julien had put getting married off for as long as was possible.

Having been raised in a cold, emotionless home, he was reared on principle and practically, rather than love and affection. His mother had died when he was young, so she had never had a chance to instill in him the notions of love. H     is stepmother was a controlling shrew, using him for her own aims, while reminding him as often as she could that emotions were a weakness that men of his station ought to have bred out of them at a young age.

Consequently, Julien had never believed that marriage was anything more than a contractual obligation. Anything else was a weakness, and Julien did not do weakness.

Thus, this marriage was inevitable. 

At the age of twenty and nine, it was expected that Julien marry, and he had to for reasons of expectation and legality. But he did not want a wife who might force herself on him, who might seek to change who he was, and certainly not one who would impose herself on his home and lifestyle. What he wanted was a meek partner who was little more than a shadow in a room … even less than that, if he was lucky.

For this reason, Lady Adelaide was perfect. He had never met her, and all he knew of her was what her aunt and uncle told him. Even if half of it was true, she would make an acceptable wife, and Julien could carry on with his life as if she did not exist.

A tad cruel, perhaps, but once she meets me, once she sees how broken I am, I have no doubt that she will thank me for it. 

“At least tell me what you plan on buying this lucky bride to be,” Frederick asked with a deep sigh. “That you have put some thought into it.”

“She is not my bride yet.”

Julien still had to meet Lady Adelaide, which he would do later today. Once he did so, he would make the final offer for her hand, and it would be done. No more putting it off. No more avoiding it. This was his task, his role as Earl of Highmere Park, and he would see it done.

“Enough of that,” Fredick said sharply and leaned forward. “We all know where this ends. With you, walking down the aisle with a look on your face as if someone has wiped cow dung under your nose.”

Julien scoffed.

“So, tell me, what do you plan on buying her?”

Julien shrugged. “It does not matter. But it is expected that I bring her a gift, so that is what I am doing.”

“And that is why you invited me to join you.”

“I did not invite you.”

“Nor did you stop me,” Frederick pointed out. “Fear not, my sullen friend, together, we shall find the perfect gift. Nothing too bold…” He clicked his tongue. “Something that says, this marriage might not be the best of things, but it is certainly not the worst.”

“What a lovely sentiment.”

“From what I gather, it is the best this Lady Adelaide can hope for.”

Julien turned once more to watch the passing fields as the carriage rattled down the dusty road. It was a warm day. It was a sunny day. And yet, a dark bank of clouds sat on the horizon, as menacing as they were prophetic. Julien did not want this, and he felt sorry for this Lady Adelaide and what her life would become under his roof.

Not nearly as sorry as I feel for myself, however. As sad as her story is, it pales in comparison to my own. In that, at least we have something in common … a most depressing start to this affair indeed.

 

***

 

“Lord Highmere, it is so wonderful to see you again.” Lady Millicent Davenport swept toward Julien as he stepped out of the carriage.

“We are beyond pleased for the chance to introduce you to our niece,” Mr. Arthur Devonport added as he hurried along beside his wife. “She is thrilled for the chance to meet you.”

“Ecstatic,” Lady Millicent added. “She has spoken of nothing but all morning.”

Julien eyed the approaching couple with a deep sense of dislike.

Lady Millicent was a typical social climber, and even had Julien not known of her background, it would be obvious to anyone who met her. She was tall for a woman, her features were severe and sharp, and she was always dressed a little too formally for the occasion, as if she needed to prove her wealth and her status. 

Her husband was shorter than she was, round of body, balding of head, and as blind as a bat, forced to wear glasses so thick that one could hardly see his eyes behind them. 

Together, they made a strange couple, and the way they acted left much to be desired. Since Julien had shown an interest in their niece, they had been at him like a couple of ravenous hyenas, nipping and snapping at his heels, never giving him room to breathe as they shoved this arrangement down his throat so that he had no choice but to say yes.

He did not like them, was the point, nor did he like how they behaved.

If they truly want to be part of the peerage, a little restraint might be in order. And I do not believe for one second that their niece is excited or even interested. They must think me some sort of fool.

“I look forward to meeting her,” Julien said. “I pray that this is not a waste of my time.” 

Lady Millicent’s lip curled at the comment, but she was quick to dismiss it. Rather, she laughed gaily and then slapped playfully at his chest.

“We never would. Isn’t that right, Arthur?”

“This marriage is in all our best interests, and I have no doubt that once you meet our niece, you will see the truth in what we have told you about her. She is a prize, we assure you.”

Julien did not smile or show any sense of interest. He knew what this marriage was, they knew what it was, so what point was there in pretending otherwise?  

“I brought a gift.” In his hand was a small journal that he had purchased earlier; the cover was made of leather, and the pattern on it was intricate and esoteric so he had no idea what it meant … if anything at all.

“Oh!” Lady Millicent took the journal. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“It is quite fine,” he said simply. “Now, shall we make introductions?” He looked past them and toward the manor. “Where is she?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Lady Millicent hurried. “Lady Adelaide is in the back garden eagerly awaiting you. Shall we…” She offered him his arm and Julien took it.

He was, if nothing else, a slave to appearances, and it would not do to be outright rude and boorish to his hosts. Even if he very much wanted to be.

Lady Millicent kept a tight hold of Julien’s arm as she led him around the side of their manor. It was a smaller home than his own, and from what Julien had heard, it once belonged to the woman’s sister before she passed away.

How had she died again… ?

The garden in the back yard was typically extravagant. The flowerbeds were colorful. The hedges were full and well-trimmed. The grass was luscious and verdant and soft looking. The fountain which sprung from the center was made of marble, while the water that swam in its belly glistened crystal blue.

“Adelaide!” Lady Millicent’s shrill cry ripped from her lungs as soon as they stepped onto the garden path. “Enough of that, girl! Front and center, thank you!”

Perched on the edge of the fountain, with the sun shining a spotlight over her, Lady Adelaide had a book of some sort open on her lap, and she was utterly transfixed by it until she heard her aunt. She started at the sound, she looked up, saw Julien, and shrank back. And then, he saw her shoulders slump.

So, I was right. She looks forward to this as much as I do.

“Hurry, Adelaide!” Lady Millicent chastised. “Quickly!” She exhaled sharply only to laugh as if at a joke. “She is a tad shy, is all. I promise, she is thrilled by the chance to meet you.”

“I am sure…”

He watched Lady Adelaide approach. She walked with her head bowed and her posture withdrawn as if even the shadows frightened her. Nonetheless, she was an obvious beauty – there was no denying such a thing. Milky white skin. Deep brown hair worn in thick braids that fell by her shoulders. A delicate build that was petite but in no way weak. And when she dared to glance at Julien, he saw large brown eyes, as expressive as they were curious.

As for Julien … he watched her with more interest than he thought he would. He expected to come here, take one look at Lady Adelaide, and be dismissive, as he often was with women. But Lady Adelaide, for reasons he could not explain, caught his attention.

“Lord Highmere, allow us to introduce you to Lady Adelaide Cavendish,” Lady Millicent said with a sweeping of her hand. 

Julien straightened and he stepped forward, offering his hand so that she might take it. “Lady Adelaide, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

She startled when she saw his hand coming. Her eyes widened, the book in her hand slipped, she tried to catch it, but it fell to the ground by her feet.

“Oh no!” she gasped.

“Fool girl,” Lady Millicent snapped.

“Allow me.” Julien bent down to collect the book, but he paused when he saw the drawings that the book opened on. They were sketches of landscapes, done in charcoal, and while he knew little of art at all, he found himself transfixed by them …      he could not say why.

Somehow, they are both ugly and beautiful at the same time…

“I am so sorry,” she hurriedly scooped the book up and climbed back to her feet. Her head bowed again, her shoulders withdrew, and her cheeks flushed bright pink.

Julien was still on his knees, still thinking about those drawings…

“Lord Highmere?” Lady Millicent cleared her throat. “Perhaps you and Lady Adelaide would like a chance to get to know one another? A walk about the garden, is my thinking.”

“Yes…” Slowly, Julien pushed himself to his feet. “That sounds lovely. Shall we?” 

Lady Adelaide said nothing, not that this surprised Julien at all. He stood over her, a solid foot taller, and as he looked down at his bride-to-be, she kept her head down and refused to meet his eyes.

She was shy. She was meek and unassuming. She was, in all honesty, exactly what Julien wanted. 

As he studied her, his heart flickered just a little bit, and he could not escape the feeling that there was something else there that he was not seeing but could somehow sense. As if, like the drawing he had seen, there was trapped beauty beyond the obvious ugliness of this situation.

  Perhaps I am just nervous … unsure … looking for reasons to say no to this union. Yes, that must be it. That is the only possible reason…