Chapter One

 

December 1809

 

 

Andrew Balfour, Duke of Pendlow and sole heir to his family fortune, grasped the side of the carriage as it navigated the washed-out road. Though the heavy rains and wind had stopped three days earlier, the destruction of the storm was evident everywhere, including large holes in the roads and several fallen trees which lay on the ground. However, it mattered not how treacherous the roads might be, or if another storm was to assault him this very moment. For today, he would ask one Miss Lucy Honeyfield for her hand in marriage. A smile spread across his face as he thought of the beautiful woman.

It had been over the past year in which he and Miss Honeyfield had been courting, and although she was nineteen and he four and twenty, age mattered not, for he loved her. The two shared much in common—a tremendous change from when they first began to court. At that time, she had been much more defiant, rebuking his every word, and he had to admit that he, too, had been a bit of a scoundrel. As a matter of fact, it befuddled many of their friends and family as to why they would court in the first place. However, as their courtship continued, they had grown to have a great affection for one another. As it was, he found a woman who had captured his heart and mind, a woman who had beauty, both inside and out.

The carriage slowed, breaking Andrew from his thoughts. He glanced out the window at Foxglove Estate, the place in which the woman who had captured his heart and mind resided, and as the driver brought the vehicle to a stop before the steps, it was all Andrew could do not to run to the door before the step had been placed. However, even though he was in love, he was a Duke and such actions would not be fitting. Instead, he waited with impatience until he was able to alight. With a quick nod at the driver, he straightened his back, took a deep breath, and made his way to the door, which opened to Lady Catherine Honeyfield, wife of Baron Robert Honeyfield and mother to the woman Andrew loved: Miss Lucy Honeyfield.

Though it was December, winter had been quite calm thus far in terms of the cold. It had rained a number of times, but otherwise it had been dry and the warmth of autumn had refused to leave. Not that Andrew minded, of course; it was not often one could enjoy such a stunning day. Today, the sun shone down on him, perhaps an omen of good things to come.

Foxglove Estate was a lovely, two-story house made of red brick with large rectangular windows that reflected the sun. A row of hedges lined the drive that led up to the house and continued at a right angle so it hid the brick under the ground floor windows. A large marble urn sat on either side of the door would be overflowing with flowers in the summer but now sat barren in the winter light.

“Lord Balfour,” said Lady Honeyfield, her face beaming, “we are honored to have you visit once again.”

Andrew gave her a bow. “It is my honor,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. “Is Lord Honeyfield still away on business?” He followed Lady Honeyfield into the foyer, which displayed a white marble floor, a massive chandelier, and wide set of stairs that led to the upper floor. Although the house was not as large as Chudleigh Hill, his Exeter estate, it still exhibited a great amount of style and beauty.

“He is,” Lady Honeyfield replied, “though we expect him back tomorrow.” She turned to the butler. “Take his coat, Canton.”

“Thank you, but no,” Andrew said before the man could remove his coat. “I thought, with your permission, of course, I would escort Miss Lucy around the gardens. One should take advantage of the lovely weather and shining sun while we have the opportunity, should we not?”

Lady Honeyfield gave a light laugh. “Indeed,” she replied. “I imagine this gift cannot last much longer. I will inform Lucy of your arrival.” She requested tea from a young maid Andrew had not noticed standing in the shadow of the staircase and then turned back to Andrew. “If you would like to take a seat in the drawing room, it should not be long. Canton will see that you have something to drink.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Andrew said with a wide smile, although he knew Lady Honeyfield had no choice than to offer, given that he was a guest. The fact was, he needed his wits about him, and adding alcohol to his already nervous state would only complicate everything.

“Very well,” the woman replied. “I will be back in just a moment.” However, before she even made it to the first landing a few steps up from the foyer floor, Andrew heard footsteps above him. When he looked up, his breath caught in his throat and his heart rate increased. For there staring down at him was Miss Honeyfield, the woman he had come to adore. She wore a yellow dress that complemented her wheat-colored hair and had puffed sleeves and a rounded neckline. However, she could have been wearing a burlap sack and she still would have been just as beautiful to Andrew as she was this day.

“Lord Balfour,” Miss Honeyfield said as she made her way down the stairs, her slippered foot appearing with each step and then hiding away beneath her skirts before stepping down to appear once again on the next step. When she reached the foyer floor she gave a quick curtsy and then smiled.

Andrew could do nothing more than stare at her beauty. Now he could make out the lace that trimmed her dress and the cut of the neckline that allowed a nice view of her décolletage. However, he did not allow his eyes to linger on that part of her body. For one, it was not proper, but for another, he found her face much too handsome to not study.

“Miss Honeyfield,” Andrew replied to her greeting, though he wondered if his voice sounded a bit choked. He certainly hoped not.

“Well,” Lady Honeyfield said when Andrew nor Miss Honeyfield took their eyes off each other, “shall we collect our shawls before we begin our stroll? We might not be experiencing our typical winter but that does not make it summer.”

As Andrew waited for the two women to don their wraps, his thoughts went to how he would propose to her. Granted, they had not had the easiest of roads to this point, but they had come so far. And as Miss Honeyfield’s mother opened the door and Andrew offered his arm to the younger woman, he knew in his heart she would accept.

***

The hedges were bereft of their leaves, and the gardens sat barren; however, Andrew knew that the flower who had placed her hand on his arm was more precious than any flower that bloomed in the spring.

They stopped in front of a tree and Andrew glanced over his shoulder. The Baroness took a seat on a bench a discreet distance away and proceeded to open a book she brought with her. Whether or not she was reading, he was unsure, nor did he care, but she was far enough away that his words would not carry. He returned his gaze to the beautiful woman beside him and gazed down at her. Her eyes, which would darken when she was angry, were light, and her smile warmed his heart.

“When we first began to court,” Andrew said, “I wondered why you agreed. You had heard rumors about me. Plus, there were plenty of men who you could have instead of me.” He took her hand in his and glanced once again at her mother. However, the woman either was not paying attention, or chose not to. “As we continued to spend time together, I stopped caring about those other men who wished to win your heart, for I knew I would have you, no matter the cost.” Miss Honeyfield nodded but said nothing as she pulled her shawl tighter. “Many years ago, my father began instructing me in the ways of the world, or rather the world as he saw it. I must tell you, with his outlook on life, the world is a cold and dreary place. A place I lived in for a very long time. That is, until I met you.”

A tear rolled down Miss Honeyfield’s face and Andrew wiped it away. When she still did not speak, he continued. “In this past year, you opened my eyes to another world—a world full of hope and even…love.” A breeze picked up several leaves from the ground around their feet and Andrew felt himself shiver; however, he knew it was not from the cold air. “I now see that love is real, for I have experienced it myself, and I wish to experience it with you every day of my life.” He took both her hands and grasped them in his. “Miss Lucy Honeyfield, will you deign to be my wife?”

Miss Honeyfield brushed away new tears as she looked up at Andrew. If he could do anything in his life, it would be to stare down at her for the rest of eternity.

“Like you, I must admit I had reservations when you began coming by to see me. If not for my father’s insistence, I have to say that I might never have allowed it. However, for once in my life, I am happy he was so insistent, for I have seen you change from a bitter man to a man I adore and cherish.”

Andrew smiled. Many men would have been offended to be called bitter; yet, he knew what she said was true, and although he would not admit such things to others, he found it easy to do so to her. However, she had yet to accept his proposal, and he began to wonder if she would reject him.

Then she took a deep breath and began to speak again. “For so long now, I participated in gossip, and even worse, took those lies as truth. For that I am sorry. I will have you know that those days are over.”

Andrew could only smile. One particular rumor had led Lucy to refuse to see him at one point, but finally, after several weeks of persistence, she had relented and allowed him to explain the truth behind the story.

“I know that life is behind you,” he said kindly.

“Life without you is like this garden,” she said with a sweep of her arm. “Dull, no color, no life. However, with you, there is a pleasantness of something better to come. A new season to bring life.” Her eyes were now shining as she gazed up at him with such intensity, he wondered if he would fall to the ground. “Andrew, I love you and want nothing more than to be your wife.”

For one tiny instance, Andrew wondered if he had heard her correctly. Had she just accepted his marriage proposal? He almost wished to pinch his arm to assure himself he was not dreaming. However, the feel of her hand in his told him that he was not asleep and that this, indeed, was not a dream.

What he wanted to do at that very moment was pull her into his arms and kiss her deeply, but that was not for this moment as her mother was not far away. She might appear to be reading, but he saw her eyes flicker up at them and a smile play on her lips when she returned to her book. Did she know that he had asked her daughter to marry him?

Though he was disappointed that he could not kiss the beautiful woman before him just yet, he knew he had a lifetime of shared kisses and happiness once they were married.

And he could not wait.