Prologue

“I'm with child,” Sophie said with tears in her beautiful eyes. Her lower lip trembled. Annabelle just stared at her, not being able to take this in. That couldn't be. She was only sixteen years old.

“No, do not jest about such things.”

The tears spilled down her cheeks. Sophie wasn't the kind to pull such pranks. No, this couldn't be true. It couldn't.

“Are you sure?”

Sophie started sobbing and flopped her head into Annabelle's lap. “I didn't mean for it to happen. I don't know how it happened.”

Well, that couldn't be true. Did she not have any understanding? Granted, such things had never been discussed, but she knew not to let herself be caught alone with a man. “Who is responsible?”

“Mr. Hargrave,” she said.

“But he is married. How?”

“He was so kind to me.”

I'm sure he was, Annabelle thought, but this couldn’t be. “He is married. How could you?” The accusation was in her voice and Sophie cried harder.

“What should I do?”

Annabelle's thoughts were racing. This was terrible. It would ruin her entire future. Getting up, Annabelle paced around the room. How could they fix this? They couldn't. Mr. Hargrave was married, so he couldn't fix this even if he wanted to.

The shock Annabelle felt stopped her from thinking clearly. As Sophie's governess, she was responsible and had failed in some way. Sophie had clearly failed to foresee repercussions of such an act. And now it was too late, she was with child. Her father would not take this well. Sophie's entire future was now at stake, and now Annabelle feared for her. Lord Beaumont was not the type of man who would take something like this well.

“What must I do?” Sophie asked.

Annabelle continued to pace, trying to think of what could be done. “We must tell your father.”

“No!” Sophie pleaded. “He will be horrible.”

“This is not something you can hide. Mr. Hargraves must answer for these... crimes.”

“No, we must not do anything. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He loves me.”

“A man who destroys your entire future doesn't love you. He wouldn’t have allowed this to happen if he loved you, wouldn’t have ever taken such a selfish risk. The stupid, stupid man. We must tell your father. There is no other way.”

“We can hide it,” Sophie said. “We'll give the baby away, and no one will ever know. We can say it's your baby.”

Annabelle would like to have said that it was a surprise how easily Sophie was willing to destroy her reputation. But Sophie had the callousness of youth and an inability to foresee the repercussions of her actions.

“It will not go unnoticed,” Annabelle said. “You cannot hide as your belly grows. How far gone are you? When did this happen?”

Sophie's expression was uncertain for a moment. Did she not remember? “Did he force himself on you?”

“No, of course not. This wasn't intended. It just happened.”

“But when did it happen?”

“In the spring.”

“That was months ago,” Annabelle said, her sense of panic increasing. “You will be showing soon.” That also showed that Sophie had stayed quiet with this secret for quite a while. Or perhaps she hadn't understood the changes in her body.

“We can go away somewhere where nobody knows us,” Sophie suggested.

“We have no money to do such things. Your father can help; he can make something like that happen.”

“He will not,” she said emphatically.

Annabelle didn't know what to do, this was all such a shock. Sophie was little more than a child. How could this have happened?

“I will speak to your father.”

“No,” Sophie pleaded again.

“There is no other way. I must think.”

The rest of the day went in a blur. Annabelle tried to think of a way to get through this, but nothing came to her. This was so final, there was little choice in what to do.

She slept not a wink that night, tossing and turning all night, and with each hour she worried more. Sophie still didn't quite understand the gravity of the situation. It would be devastating for Annabelle as well, but she didn't have a child growing in her belly.

The next morning, Sophie's eyes were red from crying and she looked drawn. The thickness in her belly was already showing, Annabelle noted. It would only grow more and more now.

In the afternoon, she determined she must do as required. Standing in front of Lord Beaumont study, her hands shook. This was the most horrible thing she'd ever had to do, including burying her own father. The repercussions of that had been horrendous as well, but they had only been horrendous for her, which was easier to deal with. This was something else entirely, and her knees were weak at the prospect.

Carefully she lifted her hand and knocked.

“Enter,” the cross voice inside said. Annabelle's nerves almost got the better of her, but she reached for the door handle and opened the door.

Not only was Lord Beaumont there, but so was his son, Aurelius, Sophie's much older brother. Technically her half-brother from his lordship's first marriage. Both of his wives had departed this world, and from what Annabelle had learned, both marriages had been unhappy. It only showed that he was a harsh man to his family, as well as to the people in his employ.

“How can I help you, Miss Foster?” he said with cold regard. He always had that expression when he spoke to her, as if her mere presence was trying for him.

“If we could speak in private,” she said, pleased her voice didn't fail her.

“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of my son.” Aurelius's cool eyes regarded her. He had never been friendly, but she hadn't met him many times either. Rarely did he spend time at Wiltmoore Hall. His life was in London, and at Oxford before that, but that was well before Annabelle's time with the family.

“It is a very personal matter,” she said. “Pertaining to your daughter.”

“Well, spit it out, girl,” he said with an unamused expression.

Now she didn't know what to say, how to say it. She hadn't expected Aurelius to be there, and it had thrown off everything she'd planned for this interaction.

“It seems in her naivete, Sophie has let someone take advantage of her, and there has been consequences.”

“What are you speaking of, Miss Foster?”

She tried to think of some way, a last-ditch effort to avoid this, but there was no way. “She is with child.”

“She’s but a mere child,” he said harshly. “What you say cannot be true. You're very wrong and irresponsible to make such accusations.”

This response had her stumped. Did she need to convince him it was true?

“Who does she say is responsible?” Aurelius asked. His tone was equally harsh.

“Mr. Hargraves.”

“A married man,” he said disbelievingly. “Well, that makes it very difficult for her.”

“Is this true?” Lord Beaumont demanded. “Bring her here. I wish to speak to her, and see for myself what kind of harlot I've been raising.”

His tone wasn't encouraging, but she hadn't expected him to take this news well.

Annabelle did as she was bid and left the study, going upstairs to Sophie's room. “He wishes to speak to you.”

“No,” she said flatly.

Annabelle didn't know what to say, what she could say to make any of this better.

“You must do your best, and not keep him waiting.”

Sophie was openly crying as she walked out of her room. Annabelle followed as Sophie walked slowly as if heading to her own execution. As she reached the door to the study she straightened her spine and drew in breath before knocking.

It was Aurelius that opened the door and let her in. “Not you,” he said to Annabelle. “You're dismissed, effective immediately,” he said and close the door firmly.

There was likely no pleading against this, and perhaps she understood that it was right, because she had failed. She had seen none of this happening, had had no chance to stop it. It was highly unlikely she would receive any references, which, more or less, spelled the end of her career. As would any word spread that one of her charges had ended up with a child out of wedlock. No one would hire such a governess.

Perhaps her only option was to go into domestic service. It would be a significant step down for someone of genteel birth, even if her father's position hadn't counted for much in society. Now her position was even worse, but there was nothing she could do. Perhaps a very remote family could use services, in a part of the country no one else wish to work in, somewhere desolate where news didn’t reach. There was maybe some hope.

Going upstairs she began packing her trunk. Before long, Mrs. Thatcher entered the room, the main housekeeper, and watched over her progress as if she was likely to steal something.

Two footmen followed, and they were to carry her trunk as they escorted her off the property.

They all walked in silence, the gravel of the long driveway the only sound as they walked towards the ornate gates that served as a suitable entrance to a grand estate. There, they put her trunk down and left. No preparations were to be made for her departure, so she now had nowhere to go and no means to carry this trunk. The only thing she could hope for was that someone passing by would take mercy on her and take her with them.

She waited for a good while. This was not a well-traveled road, and it would take some time. However, she did have belief in people's general kindness. At least she liked to think that was true, even if she knew it wasn't always so.

But a short while later she saw people approaching from the house, and she initially hoped they intended to help her, but as they got closer she saw that they were escorting Sophie out in the same way they had her shortly before. The sight made her heart drop. This was the worst possible outcome. They were throwing Sophie out, and washing their hands of her. She was being utterly disowned, and again Annabelle wondered if there was some way she could have avoided this outcome, but she couldn't see how. She had no power in any of this. Lord Beaumont could have created a solution. The cruel truth was that he had little use for a disgraced daughter, and Lord Beaumont was a man who had uses for people.

Sophie was no longer crying, the expression on her face showing she'd shed all the tears she’d had, and now there was only resignation.

This girl had little understanding of the world, her entire existence had been that of a cossetted and protected girl, who'd never had to worry about anything. Now she was out in the world with nothing.

“What are we to do?” Sophie asked after they placed her trunk and left her.

“I don't know,” Annabelle said. Sophie wouldn’t be able to function in the world on her own, which meant that Annabelle couldn't pursue another position as governess anywhere, let alone in the most inhospitable parts of the country.

“We'll think of something,” she said. Exactly what, she had no idea. People did manage to exist, so there had to be some way of supporting themselves. Unsavory options floated in her mind, but there had to be a way without resorting to such drastic actions. However, this world wasn’t built for people with no support, but there was a child coming. Annabelle could never bring herself to desert Sophie. She simply didn't have it in her to be so callous. Someone had to care for her, and who else would do so? Certainly not these men in her family. Sophie's reputation would be beyond repair if she had to find means to support herself. Assumption would be made that she'd never escape. Now sacrifices had to be made. So be it, but there would be no place for either of them in society.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Since the passing of his father, Aurelius had focused his efforts on understanding what it took to make Wiltmoore estate run. All of his father's dealings and processes were opaque at best. Nothing was written down, and he could only get piecemeal answers from the workers. Farming techniques was something that should have been taught to him, but it haven’t been. Granted, he wouldn’t have been interested, never assuming the mantle of responsibility would fall on him so soon.

To begin with, it had been difficult to give up his life in London, with its various entertainments and diversions he'd pursued with his friends. The title he now bore sat heavily on his shoulders, and he was intent to not utterly fail. He could well imagine his father’s derision at every decision he made.

His father had been such an overbearing and authoritative figure throughout his childhood, it was only as he'd reached maturity that he'd seen his father's shortcomings.

Saying that, the man had well understood the requirements of the title, and the heritage it required to uphold. It came with significant responsibilities. One of those responsibilities included planning for the future of both the title and the estate.

He was still young, the pressure for an heir wasn't quite intense yet, so he could put off marriage for a while.

Like his father, he felt the institution was a means to an end and something unpleasant that had to be endured. From the things he'd seen, that remained true despite how people blustered about its virtues and benefits. His father's second marriage had shown quite consistently that it was an unpleasant and miserable situation. And the significant and life-long investment didn't always bear fruit, like with Sophie, who’d been a stupid and unruly creature from the day she'd entered the world. Arrogant enough to believe she could do exactly as she pleased without any consequences. The girl hadn't had even the remotest inkling of a mind in her head. And then she'd committed the gravest sin, probably more than they knew about. Her own sins leading to her demise, had even killed her in the end--from what they've been informed.

Neither himself nor his father had attended her funeral. In fact, he didn't quite know where she was buried. Father had disowned her outright, and had been entirely justified. She'd put their whole family reputation at stake, out of her stupidity and wanton disregard for the fundamentals of what was required of her.

Her behavior had disgusted him, and he simply could not bring himself to forgive her. To carry on with a married man and to get herself with child was inexcusable. She had made them the laughingstock of all of society. Father had been justified in the harshness of her treatment. If she’d been willing to conduct herself such, then she was capable to take the consequences as well.

Dying in childbirth was the unfortunate risk every woman carried, and it had struck her down. Perhaps her own misery had had some hand in that outcome. It was true that Aurelius had mixed feelings about that, which was curious because he hadn't felt mixed about her disownment. Women dying in childbirth was tragic, but it was the way of the world.

What he hadn't agreed with, had been his father's handling of the child. Granted, it was a child born out of wedlock, and that would tarnish his reputation his entire life. That was the true legacy his half-sister had inflicted on others.

His father had wanted to know nothing of the child, or what had happened to it. There was a callus streak in the late Lord Beaumont that Aurelius could not repeat. But as his father had lived, Aurelius hadn’t acted against his decrees on this topic.

With his death, however, inquiries about the child had led to the discovery that the baby had been adopted by none other than the girl's incompetent governess. She was, while incompetent and ineffective, a person of sufficiently high birth to allay general concerns for the child.

Of late, though, since the marriage of one of his friend’s brothers, and the impending birth of his first child, Aurelius's attention had turned more to the idea of family. And perhaps to the concept of loyalty to family, and how that may outweigh many things. Was family not more important than most other things? Was it more than the stupid whims and rules of society? 

Aurelius had never had a great deal of respect for society, and its insipid and superficial concerns. Their family far outweighed in importance any of the opinions of persons his father supposedly worried about in terms of how they were regarded. How were their opinions possibly important? More importance than what family bonds? Family came first. The rules of succession had shown that throughout history, so how was it right that this boy was discarded? His birth was unfortunate, but he was an innocent in this stupid affair.

He would be five or six now, reaching the point where he was more comprehensive of the world. The time where he could be molded, and he would either be by a failed governess, or did he potentially deserve to be guided by someone more important?

This issue had been in his thoughts more and more. What responsibilities were owed to this child, who was, in essence, his nephew, and the only family he had? Granted there were distant relations, but they had never been close, as the bare truth was that they were grasping and sought to leverage any opportunity provided to them to extract benefits and resources. In any of their dealings, there had never been true affection or family sentiment of any kind from both sides.

His father's harshness had been forged in a lineage of harsh realities. It had formed the substance of the family, but it didn't quite sit right with Aurelius to carry that on. This boy became the crux of that belief. So now came the question of what to do with the child. This boy deserved more than the care of an unscrupulous governess.

Investment report sat in front of him on the desk of his study, but they held little interest. In the last few days, the question of this child had grown more comprehensive, and he now pulled a fresh parchment to him to write a letter to his solicitor. It was perhaps pertinent that he should know more about the situation of this child. He didn't even know his name. That was perhaps a good start.

Truthfully, he remembered very little about this governess. Other than that she’d had brown hair and a rosy complexion. Quite pretty, in a way one didn't immediately notice.

“Mr. Harper,” he called, and waited for his retainer to appear at the door. “I have a letter to deliver. Can you see to it?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“I will venture to London,” he stated. His solitude here had become too fierce, and the entertainment of the vibrant city called. There was also the prospect of seeing Mrs. Arthon, whom he'd admired for quite some time, but had been unsuccessful in pursuing as her sights had been set on becoming a duchess. An ambition she'd achieved as she would be one in due course. Her cool beauty did entice, and her mind was sharp enough to achieve every one of her ambitions. How could that not be admired?

Even though he could never secure her, he did still enjoy her acquaintance. If there was any opportunity for more, he didn't quite know how he would feel about it. Perhaps even a bit disappointed. He liked thinking of her as distant and unapproachable. His task was to find someone of equal measure, but so far, he hadn't. Available girls on the market left him feeling flat and uninspired. Besides, the best ones overlooked men not yet bestowed with titles and honors.

This was not something he would compromise on, and he had sufficient time to be selective. The woman he chose to spend the rest of his life with would be someone he admired and someone worthy.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

“He's a very bright boy,” Reverend Wallace said. “We should see, in a year or so, if we can get him a scholarship to one of the charity schools. His intelligence should be nurtured.”

The reverend was one of the men who simply couldn't believe that females were in any way capable of educating boys, even as she had for a couple of the finest families in England. But how could she challenge his stance when she'd failed so completely? As it was, one could claim she had no right to care for any child. For this reason, she rarely mentioned her background, other than that August had been orphaned, and she had not seen fit to let him go into the care of any charitable institution.

“I am aware,” Annabelle said. “I will find a means of getting him an education.” The look of pity in the reverence eyes was something she hated, but she also understood. Her position was not great, but she had managed to find herself a supportive community. Basically, she worked as a farmhand now, currently spending her days harvesting turnips with a gang of women called on by farmers whenever additional hands were needed. It was backbreaking work, but it afforded them a cottage.

For a while, she'd worked in the city, teaching adults how to read. Most of her students had had little money, so their means had been threadbare, but it had kept them afloat. Just.

However, as August had gotten older, Annabelle knew that their living conditions posted the greatest risk to his health. Moving to the country had been a better choice for him, even though the employment options for her were very limited. Hence agreeing to take on the work of harvesting around the district. While they had practically nothing, the sense of community made up for it. It provided a safety net for when scarcity set in. She'd never had that before, especially working as a governess, which was, at all times, a lonely existence.

Her only priority now was August's healthy growth and to preserve his happy disposition.

He was an absolutely wonderful child, but she worried for his future. Even so, she was going to give him every advantage that her education could afford him, and she may even beseech some of the skilled men around here to share their knowledge with them. Perhaps even Mr. Moore, who had impressive technical skills. The man seemed to like her, judging by his kindnesses, even an interesting prospect as he was unmarried. But her focus was not on herself. Instead perhaps in an opportunity to provide August with an apprenticeship in due time.

If they would still be living here, she didn't know, but she hoped so. Not everyone was kind to a lone woman with a child, many of them making assumptions about her character without learning what her true story really was. Enough people knew, however, so she wasn't ostracized, although it may be that some people didn't believe her about the circumstances of August's birth.

It didn't matter, they were surviving, and at the moment there were no pressing risks she had to guard against. This was the most calm she'd felt in the last five years, and her nerves were finally starting to settle down. It was only now that it was relenting that she noticed how tense she'd been throughout this time.

“Come August,” she said, taking the boys small hand in hers. “Let's go home and have our supper. What did you do today? Did you have fun?”

“We made figures with paper and glue, newspapers. And we learned about Solomon.”

“Those are interesting stories,” she said.

“And we had teacakes,” he said excitedly.

“Mrs. Berry makes wonderful teacakes.”

They wandered through the village, towards their small attached cottage, where a man stood waiting at the gate. He was not from the village, perhaps he was lost.

“May I assist you?” she asked as she approached. He wore a rounded hat, and a suit that suggested he did not come from a farming village at all.

“Are you Miss Foster?” he asked. Unease crawled up Annabelle's spine. Why would this man know her name? There could be no good reason.

Upon hearing this, she gripped August's hand firmer. “I am. And who are you?”

“I am Mr. Winter, from the law firm, Holcrum and Winter.” So not just a clerk sent, an actual partner. Judging by the quality of his suit, this was not some small, country law firm either, which suggested that this had to do with Lord Beaumont in some capacity. It might not be dread that she felt, but something close to it.

“I am making inquiries about a Mr. August Templeton. I assume this is the boy.”

“This is my child, yes,” she said.

“Lord Beaumont has seen fit to claim the boy. This is wonderful news. I assume I don't have to tell you what this means for the boy’s future.” His eyes traveled around, settling on the small cottage in its run-down state. The look of distaste was clear in his eyes.

“As Lord Beaumont has never set eyes on this child, I struggle to entirely trust his intentions.”

“Madam, he has agreed to compensate you for your time and effort,” the man said, ignoring her statement completely.

“This is my child, both legally and morally. Still, Lord Beaumont makes no effort to know him, instead sends a solicitor in his place. How could he possibly be fit to raise a child?”

The look of surprise raised the man's eyebrows. Had he expected she’d just hand the child over to a stranger?

“He is a lord, madam.”

“Yes, and I have met him. A title does not equate to virtue. I know full well how careless he is with tender youths. I suggest Lord Beaumont knows nothing about raising children. Perhaps if he can communicate the strategy he intends to use to raise this child I would be amenable to listen.”

“What is he saying?” August asked, his concern evident. He understood they were talking about him. “Don't give me away to this man,” he pleaded.

Immediately crouching down to his level, she looked him in the eyes. “I will not, but he is making inquiries on the behalf of your grandfather.”

“I don't want a grandfather,” he said and ran inside the house.

“If you were expecting to leave with a child today, you were very much mistaken. Good day, Mr. Winter. Perhaps any future request you have could be put in writing.”

The man looked blustered and shocked as she walked away. If something was to come of Lord Beaumont's interest, she was going to put them in a position where he had to negotiate with her on August's treatment. No way would she simply let him do as he pleased. She'd seen the outcome of that already, and August was the one victimized most severely by that man's actions.

August had the capacity to completely disregard anything out of sight, so the worry he felt about this man's appearance had now completely dissipated. Annabelle prepare their supper on the small stove that also warmed the cottage. While the choices may be limited, the quality of the food in the countryside was far superior, and there was no threat of dilution, deception, or food well past its time of consumption.

The man's appearance hadn't left Annabelle's mind, though. It signified a change in how the Beaumont family regarded August. Until now, they’d shown no interest in him, and as she had legally adopted him, they technically had no right to him either. However, they could provide for him in ways well beyond what she ever could, perhaps even give him prospects for a bright future. At this point, though, she had no understanding of what their intentions were. But it was clear that they had some. If those intentions would survive the obstacle she'd just put in place remained to be seen. If her refusing to hand over the boy at the mere drop of a hat put them off, it told her everything she needed to know.

It would be a lie to say she didn't recognize the importance this could pose for August and his future. Even if all they were willing to do was pay for his education, or perhaps that was beyond their intentions.

But the more frightening prospect was that she would lose him, although she didn't quite see how as she was his legal parent and guardian. Still, they were powerful men and this country organized itself around them, irrespective of what the law said. She had no confidence that the law would protect her against them causing her trouble in order to bend her will. But then it was in August's favor to have a relationship with his born family.

August drew on the chalk tablet and hummed contentedly as he waited for his supper.

“You know your grandfather lives in a very big house.”

“How big?” he asked.

“So big you couldn't run from one side to the other without stopping to catch breath.” August's eyes widened. “Bigger than any house around here.”

Should she be telling him about these things in case nothing ever came of this? But she supposed she didn't want him to be frightened of whatever was to come. It could even be that they would visit, as much as she would loathe going back to that house, with all the horrible memories ingrained in her mind and heart. On the other hand, it could provide a good opportunity to teach him about his mother, whose existence Annabelle had been very open about. There was, after all, a very nice portrait of her at Wiltmoore Hall, unless they'd destroyed it. Now that she thought about it, there was a good chance they had, wanting no reminder of the girl that they'd thrown away.

When the sausages were cooked, she placed them with boiled potatoes on two plates, along with cooked cabbage, and brought them to the table. It was simple but good food, exactly what a growing boy needed.

Putting his tablet to side, he continued humming as he ate, his feet absently kicking the chair leg underneath him.

“Can we read about the pirates tonight?” he asked.

“Of course.” He was the kind of boy who adored adventure and fantastical stories. She'd even invented a few of her own to entertain him when they'd had no new stories to read.

After supper was finished, she went outside for a while and stood in the cold evening air and looked up at the stars. The city didn’t have stars like this, and sometimes she looked up at them and wondered what the future held for both of them. Maybe little more than this village, and they would live like this for the rest of their lives. It wasn't a terrible outcome, although perhaps not an exciting one, especially for a little boy who loved adventure.

However, the afternoon's events had returned some of the stress to her shoulders, but she supposed it could potentially be a good development. She forced herself to believe that, even though an underlying concern was that her sweet little boy would be under the influence of some very harsh men. Any opportunity that came from this would be counteracted by the nature of the men associated with it. However, this world was harsh enough that one cannot turn one's back on better prospects. Especially as he only had her, and if something happened to her, she didn't know what would become of him. August would one day have a family that depended on him, and she couldn’t in all conscience limit his opportunities, especially as the small cottage was really all she could provide, even if the love inside it was warm and welcoming.