​

How quick come the reasons for approving what we like! ~ Jane Austen

Late July, 1815

 

 

 

 

Dawn was just cresting the hollow of Crabapple Farm as the former Captain James Frayne, the current 19th Earl of Rochester walked wearily beside his horse, Jupiter. He had ridden hard for days and both he and his horse were weary. Today, he was tired and felt twice his own age of seven and twenty. He'd stayed with Wellington after the Peninsular War, but after Waterloo, he just couldn't stomach another battle.

The paperwork resigning his commission was in process and it was time to go home. But before he began the trip up the hill, he needed to stop and visit the hollow.

 

Jupiter nickered quietly as they approached the sandy blonde gathering eggs in the morning light. A light breeze blew her curls. Jim admired her light blue day dress with darker blue ribbons. He loved her in blue.

She glanced up, and seeing the vibrant banner of red hair, ran at him with the hoydenish grace of a child. "Jim!" she cried, flinging herself into his arms. He pulled her close and held her tightly to him. He was finally home.

They held each other for a long time, neither wishing to break the silence of their reunion. Bea pulled back, and gazed at his beloved face and fierce emerald green eyes. "I haven't received letters since early June and I was so impossibly worried about you." Tears of happiness spilled down her cheeks. Gently, he kissed her tears away.

​

Jim shrugged. "I didn't know what to write after a time. There was so little good news, Bea. But I always craved news of home."

​

Bea smiled up at him. "I'm glad my letters brought you a measure of peace."

​

"More than you could know," he said, tugging on a favorite curl. "I'm dirty from the ride," he said, "Jupiter and I are both exhausted. I haven't eaten a good meal since breaking my fast yesterday. But the need to see you first was too strong to deny."

​

Bea, as always, was conscious of their different social positions. His precise, crisp Eton taught, Cambridge trained English was both a melody and a reminder that she lacked his bearing. "Would you like something to eat? Eggs don't take too long."

​

James brushed a light kiss across her soft pink lips. "Are your brothers home, yet?"

​

Bea shook her head. "Brian is still treating the wounded. Martin is on assignment for the Times and his wife Diana is spending the month with her parents. Robert arrived home injured before Waterloo."

​

"Good. I'm glad they're all accounted for." He nodded to the egg basket. "May I help you gather eggs, Miss Bea?"

Bea blushed, and pushed her unruly curls away from her face. "Oh, a fine sight that would be! The Earl of Rochester gathering eggs with his neighbors."

​

Jim tugged her back into his arms. "I'd walk barefoot over coals for you, Bea. Gathering eggs wouldn't be any problem at all."

​

Bea closed her eyes and felt the heat of him soak through her thin muslin gown. She loved him dearly but knew she had to set him free. Her heart broke at the thought of never sharing an embrace with him again. He needed a woman worthy of him. A lady who wouldn't embarrass him during the Season. A lady of good ton.

​

"Go get cleaned up and get some sleep," she finally said as she broke the embrace. She patted Jupiter's neck. "Take care of your horse. We can have tea in the gazebo if you'd like? This afternoon?"

​

Jim was too tired, too hungry, too happy to be near his favorite bundle of energy to argue. He nodded and with a last gentle kiss, started his way up the hill to his country residence of Ten Acres.

​

Bea touched her lips, tears falling freely down her cheeks as she watched the tired gait of a man and his horse.

Later that afternoon, our hero is on a mission

​

Breakfast, a bath and a five hour nap later, Jim was making his way down to the small farm that had been in Sir Peter's family for generations. The earl cut a fine figure as he made his way down the lane - cravat firmly tied, Hessians gleaming in the summer sun, and his long legs eating up the distance. When he'd been home on leave last time, he had asked Sir Peter for Bea's hand in marriage. He had returned to his regiment before he could ask Miss Bea herself. Today, he planned on fixing the situation.

​

"Rochester!" Robert Belden's call intercepted him on the way to the gazebo. "Bea said you'd be here for tea." He grinned and then teased, "Of course, your tea is in the gazebo. I was sternly told by my mother not to bother you once you got there. I couldn't disobey a direct order. So, naturally, I had to see you before you got there."

Jim laughed, relieved he would have an hour of privacy with Bea. Not truly alone, they were within calling distance of her family, after all. But at least they'd be able to talk. It was the relaxed standards of the country that he enjoyed. In Town, he would never get a chance to have tea with a single woman of only one and twenty.

​

Jim continued on his way, taken aback again by Bea's beauty as she paced, too impatient for his arrival to sit and wait like a lady. He loved that about her – her barely leashed energy that lured him like a candle in the night.

​

"Lord Rochester," she greeted with a curtsey.

 

Jim frowned. "Why the formalities, Bea? You've known me since long before I was the current Earl and I've always given you leave to call me by my Christian name."

​

Jim seated Bea before joining her at the small table. Her hands shook as he poured the tea and then gestured to the platter of sandwiches and scones. "I was not sure how hungry you'd still be, my L –" she broke off. "Jim," she finished quietly.

​

"I want to know what's wrong," Jim said, stroking her hand and gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

"I'm recently home from my first Season," she said, by way of beginning.

​

"I was thrilled to be there for your debut ball. How did the rest of the Season go, Bea?" He smiled. A thought occurred to him, draining his both his smile and color from his face. "Did you meet someone, Bea?"

"Of course," Bea said. "I must have met hundreds of someones, Jim."

​

"That's not what I meant. Did you visit Almack's? Receive any offers of marriage?"

​

"I don't have a voucher for Almack's," she said, quietly.

​

"You're not answering my question, Bea." Bands tightened his chest and he could barely inhale. Had he waited too long? But Sir Peter knew of his intentions! Would Sir Peter have tipped Jim's hand to Bea? Had Sir Peter given up on his suit since he hadn't actually gotten around to proposing?

 

Bea bit her lip and fidgeted in her seat. "Of course I didn't, Jim. I mean – look at me! I'm a hoyden of the first water. My hair won't behave and I'm always tripping and making a fool of myself. I love exploring and riding horses and playing games with my family. I have nothing in common with those jinglebrained ladies of the ton who think of nothing but fashion and gossip."

 

Jim breathed. He was relieved no one else had offered for her but was confused to the reason. "You're a gem, Bea. You're supportive and smart – a girl with a heart bigger than the sky." He took a sip of the rapidly cooling tea. "I know the Season is over now but Honey and Lady Madeline wanted to stay on for a few more weeks. I'm sure Honey was the Belle of the Season. Penbrook said the family was invited to a house party. Perhaps we should go join her and let her know her full bloodied foster brother is back from the War."

​

Bea nodded. "I received the invitation as well. But I've missed working on the farm. That's why I know I'm not good ton, Jim. I like being outside and getting dirty. Regan has even taught me to ride astride and it's so much more fun without that terrible side saddle. I mean, I'm not a complete bumpkin. I do like dancing and the theatre, but just not all that pomp and gossip that goes along with it."​

​

"Then we don't do all that," Jim said decisively. "You don't list house parties, so may I take that as a 'yes' that we'll join Lady Madeline and Honey?"

 

"You were my first waltz," she said with slight breathlessness, changing the subject yet again and remembering being held in his arms.

​

His green eyes darkened. "I wanted to be your only waltz partner, Bea. I was relieved your brother partnered you for the second. Society only allows a gentleman one with a lady before there's gossip."

​

Bea nodded. "There was talk, anyway. Honey and Lady Madeline stemmed most of it. Diana, too. But there was still some gossip."

​

This was the first Jim had heard of this. "No one wrote me you were having problems in London, Bea."

​

"I asked them not to."

​

"Why? If it concerns you, I want to know about it, Bea."

​

Bea swallowed and began pulling on a cuticle. "The gossip may have been cruel but it was truthful, Jim."

​

"What were they saying, Bea?"

 

"That I was beneath you. In title, stature, and wealth. My father is a Knight and I'm incredibly proud of him for his service to the King, but we are not peers. I am no Lady." She stood to leave but Jim rose and caught her before she could go more than a step.

​

"I have a sure fire cure for gossips," Jim said. He towered over her petite frame so he sat down and held her on his lap. She gasped at the intimate touch.

​

"Oh?" Bea said, raising her eyes to his. She was struck anew by how simply wonderfully handsome he was - strong nose, firm chin, that beautiful dark red hair she longed to touch.

​

"Marry me," Jim invited, presenting her with a small box. "Marry me and you'll be of higher rank than half the Patronesses of Almack's."

​

Bea gasped. "Is that the Rochester diamond?"

​

Jim nodded. "Of course! What else would I give my beloved?"

​

Bea opened the box and admired the sparkle of the large diamond set firmly into a platinum filigree setting.

 

"Oh, Jim!" She began crying, and he tightened his arms around her.

 

"I certainly hope those are happy tears," he said softly, presenting her with his handkerchief.

​

Bea moaned, rising from his lap but holding firm to the small box. "Oh, Jim, I had no idea."

​

Jim frowned. "How could you have no idea? I wrote to you almost every week. Your own letter," he clarified.

​

"Tucked into the one for my family," Bea protested.

​

"And how would that look, Bea?" Jim asked, exasperated. "An unmarried gentlemen sending a lady of good reputation regular correspondence? I was thinking about your reputation!"

​

"I didn't think marriage," Bea said with a small voice.

​

Captain Frayne didn't have the mind of a leader without being able to put together clues. "You thought I'd make you my mistress?" he asked, aghast. "Bea, that's ridiculous!"

 

"No, it makes perfect sense," Bea started, her temper flaring at his words.

​

"How?" Jim challenged. "You're of good family; neighbors and friends to the Duke to the east and my earldom to the west," Jim recited, "You're a beautiful girl of marriageable age. One, I would like to note, that I've always danced attendance to whenever I've been at my estate or if we've both been in London. How could you think I would insult you or your family – or Hell, my own honor? And make you my mistress?"

​

"You could have anyone, Jim. Anyone you want," Bea said with a small voice, coming closer. "You are everything – handsome and kind, rich and titled. You could have simply anyone," she finished, wiping away a stray tear.

 

A corner of Jim's mouth tilted in a self deprecating half smile. "Apparently, I cannot as the only woman I have ever asked to be my bride still hasn't answered my invitation."

 

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" Bea said, reaching out and touching his arm.

​

"Enough to place that ring upon your finger and marry me?"

​

"Enough to tell you that marriage between us would be foolish," she said sadly.

​

"Why?" Jim asked, stroking her bare arm.

​

"I want you happy."

​

"And you think having the woman I love tell me she can't marry me will make me happy?" His temper was starting to flare again and he fought back the urge to simply force her to do his will.

​

"You need a proper bride!" she cried. "One who won't shame you or your family line."

​

Jim raised his eyebrow and fought back the sharp retort that rose to his lips. "Well, seeing as how I'm the last of the house of Rochester, I cannot see how you could embarrass my family. I don't even have a dotty old great-aunt to scandalize. And even if I was surrounded by family, I would have no other bride but you."

​

"What of his Grace and Lady Wheeler?"

 

"What of them? They fostered me after my parents died and I owe them a great deal, Bea. But I'm not sacrificing my happiness on the altar of Wheeler. Aside from that they adore you."

​

"I'm only a knight's daughter," she repeated.

​

"And if it weren't for your help, the old Earl never would have found me after the death of my parents," Jim reminded her, speaking of his great uncle. "It was you who gave him the idea to look for me at all. It was you who rescued me from the workhouse under Master Jones."

​

Beatrix shivered. "Oh, that man gives me nightmares, Jim. I hate to even think of you in that place."

​

Jim looked down at his gleaming boots in shame. "I still think about it, you know," he told her. "I think about being bound and beaten and it shames me that you once saw me that way."

​

"You were just a little boy, Jim!" Bea set her jaw. "I never saw anything, you know. The old Earl wouldn't allow me out of the carriage."

​

"You saw enough," Jim argued.

​

"I hate to shake your faith in me, Lord Rochester," Bea said, wrinkling her nose, "but all I did was tell the old Earl about seeing a red haired boy that looked terribly like him at a workhouse we passed when were visiting family in London. I was little but I remember how frantic he was when you went missing following the death of your parents. He had Brian and I accompany him so I could point out where we saw you."

​

"You saw me dirty, beaten, and smelling like a sewer, Bea."

 

She shook here head. "I saw the return of the most wonderful boy in the world."

​

A ghost of his crooked smile appeared on his handsome face. "I wish I had your eyesight, Bea. Most of the time I still see that dirty little urchin staring back at me when I see a mirror."

​

They were quiet for a moment as they felt the heavy emotions pass by them.

​

"I don't like London, Jim. It's dirty and it smells. You'll be resuming your seat at the House of Lords now that you've sold your commission. I have no skills at politics or socializing like that."

​

Jim shook his head. "I served in the House before, Bea. Yes, there are those who have political aspirations, but I am not one of them. I'm more than content living on my estate, taking care of my tenants, and being with my future family."

​

"What would you expect of me?"

 

Jim touched her arm, tracing the slight veins in her wrist. "I want your vivaciousness and energy. I want you to help me take care of my Earldom and the tenets who count on me. I do have investments and business dealings that keep me busy but most of it I can accomplish from Ten Acres." He tugged on a loose curl that often drove him to distraction. "I won't lie. We will need to go to Town for a few weeks during the Season."

"And you'll waltz only with me?"

​

Jim smiled. "I will risk all the wagging tongues of the patronesses and fine ladies by only waltzing with my wife."

 

Bea returned her gaze to the ring box. "I cannot stomach a society wedding, Jim. All those people. All that gossip. And you simply must do justice to the earldom."

​

Sensing her capitulation, Jim placed the ring on Bea's finger. "We will have a fashionably scandalous wedding. We'll get married at the small chapel at Ten Acres," he said, mentioning his ancestral home. "Your brothers and sister-in-law; your parents; and my foster family will be invited. Everyone will just die to know what happened, but only a crew of eleven will know."

​

"And what of Daniel?" Trixie said, referring to Lord Wheeler's groom's nephew. He and Jim had grown up together as boys and remained close. Daniel had also served on the Peninsula but had since taken a position with Scotland Yard. She moved the ring around on her finger, watching the flash and dance of the family diamond.

​

"If you're okay with twelve, we'll make it so," Jim said, playing in a loose curl.

​

Bea fought to breathe. This wasn't turning out at all like she had planned. "No mistresses," she said, firmly. "I don't completely know what the marriage bed entails, but I know enough of society that men often keep a mistress. I'll have your word, Jim. You'll never take a mistress."

 

Jim knew too well that society – both men and women - often played loose with the rules of marriage. But how could he explain she would never have to worry about mistresses? It wasn't just that he was crazy in love with her – but he was never completely comfortable when he was with a woman. The few times he had succumbed to his body's needs, he had remained partially clothed. "You realize after we are wed, there would be little you could do about it."

​

Instinctively, he knew his Beatrix would want everything from him. The thought both scared him and awed him at the power of the love they could create between them.

​

"That's why I want your word. You've never broken a promise and you would never risk your honor at being foresworn," Bea returned.

​

Jim stroked her chin and tried to lighten the mood. "How about if we promise for the next one hundred years, neither of us will seek another? We can re-negotiate then?"

​

Bea cracked a small smile, and Jim knew he had won. "Oh, don't think you can play those games with me, Lord Rochester," she said formally. "The vows may say 'til death do us part, but I'm claiming forever from you. If you're crazy enough to want to marry the daughter of a mere knight when you could be married to the daughter of a Duke, I'm going to hold you to that promise."

​

"Unless that daughter was you, I'd be a very miserable man." Jim smiled, that lopsided wonderful smile she had fallen in love with when they were just children. "But I agree to your terms, Countess Rochester," he said, trying on her new title.

 

"A Christmas wedding?" Bea asked.

​

Jim looked askance. He knew his body. Knew its needs. And what he needed was his beautiful blue eyed girl to be his wife. Soon. Jim had been crazy in love with a certain Miss Belden since forever which had made the thought of taking even a temporary lover unpalatable. "I was thinking more like three weeks. That will give enough time for the Banns to be posted."

​

Her lips twitched. "A scandalously short engagement, my Lord. There will be talk."

​

"Let them talk. We'll be scandalously wonderfully in love and all they'll have is gossip."

​

She pressed against him, hugging him close. "I love you, James," she whispered against his cheek.

​

"I love you, Beatrix," Jim said, pulling her close into his body. "It's always been you, my love."

​

They were interrupted by a soft cough. "Lady Belden," Jim greeted, rising and allowing Bea to stand on her own.

​

"So, do we have a wedding to plan or not?"

​

"Oh Moms," Bea gushed, rushing into her mother's arms.

​

​

A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies. ~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson

​

​

As our heroine predicted, there was gossip.

​

"For a wedding gift, I suggest a copy of Fordyce's Sermons to Young Women," Lady Dorothy whispered to her friend Lady Laura.

​

"Do you suppose the chit can even read?" Lady Laura replied with a cruel laugh.

​

Miss Beatrix Belden sat with her chin up as she pretended not to hear the cruel jabs of the women sitting behind her at the St. Jane-John Musicale. After all, she was the woman wearing the Rochester diamond. She was the woman Jim planned on marrying. They could say what they wished. Or so, she kept reminding herself.

​

During the intermission, Jim and his sister went to get glasses of lemonade. Bea had stayed behind to avoid the crush of people.

​

Not for the first time was she questioning her decision to accept the invitation to a house party. Her family and Jim had compromised on an end of August wedding. Invitations to their small circle of intimates were sent. She had been measured for her new wardrobe and picked out samples and fabrics and styles. After all, a countess couldn't exactly wear the same dresses as the daughter of a gentleman farmer and banker.

​

In the meantime, she had to put up with nasty gossips.

​

"Do you suppose she'll be enough for him? The silly farmer's daughter?" Lady Laura continued.

​

"Well, if she fails him, I know several women who would love to assist," Lady Dorothy giggled waspishly. "Perhaps even a few married ones."

 

Gratefully, Bea saw Honey and Jim making their way back to their seats. She rose to accept the glass of lemonade that Jim handed her. "My thanks, Lord Rochester," she said with a small smile.

​

"Anything for you Miss Belden," Jim said. Green eyes met blue with sizzling awareness. They were staying in the same wing of the St. Jane estate and Jim fully intended using that conveniently close bed chambers to his advantage.

​

"Lord Rochester, how good to see you again," Lady Dorothy said, joining their small group. "I had no idea you were home from the war yet." Bea found herself losing her balance as she was pushed out of the way. It was only Jim's quick reflexes that saved her from sprawling in the salon like a graceless child. She flashed him a quick smile of thanks.

​

Jim broke his gaze from Bea's before smiling at Lady Dorothy. "It hasn't been long, Lady Dorothy. After securing Miss Belden's hand, we decided to accept St. Jane's invitation for a house party so we could visit with my dear sister, Lady Maddie."

​

Lady Maddie, a sweet gentle soul with honey brown hair and big hazel eyes, was often called Lady Honey or simply Honey to her intimates. But in this formal setting, with these over opinionated girls, she preferred the more sophisticated honorific of Lady Maddie.

​

"Is Lord Murray here with you?" Honey asked, inquiring after Lady Dorothy's husband.

​

"He went hunting with the gentlemen," Lady Dorothy said, "leaving me to my own devices this afternoon." Her words were innocent enough but her eyes devoured Jim's brawny form barely restrained in his waistcoat and jacket.

​

"Lord Rochester," Bea began, touching her fiancé on the forearm. "I'm feeling a trifle warm this afternoon. Would you mind terribly if we took a turn in Lady St. Jane's shade garden?"

​

"Oh, let's," Honey said, taking her foster brother's other arm.

​

"How could I refuse being the requests of such beautiful ladies?" Jim said, accepting their tactic to leave the room with relish. Ladies Dorothy and Laura were both lovely glamorous women but they always stirred a feeling of unease within him.

​

Taking their leave of Ladies Dorothy and Laura, the three made their way out of the warm music room in order to stroll in the cool breezes of Lady St. Jane's shady garden path.

​

"It's so wonderful you're finally home, James," Honey said in a quiet voice as they enjoyed the cool shade. She reached over and touched Bea's hand gently resting on Jim's other arm. "And I'm so happy you're getting married. It's just perfectly perfect, don't you think?"

​

Bea and Jim exchanged an amused look. "Perfectly perfect," Bea said, wrinkling her nose. "I couldn't have said it better myself, Lady Honey." She smiled up at Jim. "Did you tell Lady Honey about your plans for orphanage in Croton?"

​

"No, what? Tell me everything!" Honey encouraged.

​

"There's a small Orphanage to the west of the estate," Bea rushed to answer. "Jim and I have decided to become patrons. Jim wants to teach the boys about wood working and doing sums. We're hoping when Martin comes home from his next assignment, we can convince him to teach English for a while. We hope to help train the children so they can get decent positions for the future."

​

"Oh, I'm sure Diana would love having her husband home for an extended period of time," Honey agreed.

​

"I'm so glad Mr. Lynch agreed to her marriage to my brother," Bea confided in her friends. Jim guided them to a small brook that ran along the property and the three friends rested on the cool grass.

​

"After making so much money in the ship building industry, I suppose it was natural to want your daughter to marry a duke," Honey said, kindly. She smiled at Jim. "Or an earl."

​

"A wealthy merchant's daughter is as much a pariah in the ton as a poor knight's daughter," Bea said.

​

"They're happy and they're in love," Jim said, his voice final.

 

Bea and Honey giggled. "Don't men gossip?"

​

Jim shook his head, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Never."

​

"Will Dr. Belden be joining us, Bea?" Honey asked, quietly.

​

Bea nodded her head and a spiral of blond hair fell from her chignon. "Possibly tomorrow! His last letter said he was overjoyed at my betrothal and was wrapping up so he could spend a few weeks with the family. And he has wonderful news, Honey! He's to be knighted in the fall!" Bea frowned a little. "Of course, that will make two Sir Beldens in the family which might be confusing, but," she shrugged happily, "we shall make do!"

"In his last letter to me," Jim said, taking up the story, "he said he would try and stop by for the last two days of the house party before continuing on to Croton."

​

Gently he tugged on Bea's loose curl, watching it spring back to life.

​

Honey clapped her hands, gently. "It will be so wonderful to see him again, don't you think."

​

Bea smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. "Just perfectly perfect," she agreed. She had sensed Honey's interest in her brother and knew it was returned. But they both knew that the ton made it very difficult for a woman to marry beneath her stature. Brian would be seen as a fortune hunter.

​

Jim was helping Honey rise to her feet when a scream rent the quiet country air. Not bothering to wait for Jim's assistance, Bea scrambled to her feet and rushed ahead to investigate the commotion.

​

"It was her!" Lady Dorothy screamed as Bea rounded the corner to the house, Jim and Honey following at a more sedate pace.

​

Bea looked around, trying to figure out who she was implicating in her trauma but she stood alone for the half dozen beats it took for Jim and Honey to join her.

​

"What's wrong?" Honey asked, her brow creased in concern. She did not like violent scenes and always worked to soothe ruffled feathers.

​

Lady Dorothy, realizing she was now the center of attention, strode nearer to Bea. "This little lackwitted tart stole my diamond bracelet!"

​

A collective gasp went up around them and Lord Jason, the 6th Earl of St. Jane approached them. "Perhaps we can further discuss this in my study?"

​

Immediately following, St. Jane's study…

​

Bea paced the large room, occasionally taking note of St. Jane's lovely collection of books before remember how much trouble she could potentially find herself in.

 

Jim watched her barely leashed anger as she tried to calm down.

​

St. Jane and Lord Edward, Baron Murray entered the room, followed by a young maid with a tea service.

Jim nodded, "St. Jane. Murray." St. Jane had been a few years ahead of him in Cambridge but they had certainly seen one another about Town. Murray was of his great uncle's generation and their interactions were rare, indeed.

​

"Rochester," the earl replied easily. "Won't you sit down, Miss Belden?" he invited.

​

But Bea was too upset and Lady Dorothy wasted no time in repeating her accusations. "I want the little trollop tossed out, Lord Jason. My husband gave me that bracelet and I demand the little thief be tossed out."

​

"Do you have any proof?" St. Jane asked.

​

"I was wearing my bracelet during the musicale," Lady Dorothy said. "The little lack wit bumped into me during the intermission. She then fled the scene with Lord Rochester and Lady Maddie."

​

"I didn't flee the scene," Bea protested. "I went for a walk in Lady St. Jane's shade garden."

​

"Did you see anything?" St. Jane asked Jim.

​

Jim shook his head. "No, I didn't see anything. The bracelet may have fallen off but I can certainly vouch for Miss Belden's character. She is no thief."

​

Honey stood by her friend. "I, too, can vouch for Miss Belden."

​

Lady Dorothy smiled with malicious intent. "Check her reticule."

​

Bea stared down at the small bag hanging on her wrist. Her eyes narrowed as she began to suspect something. "You placed it in there, didn't you?" she challenged. "For some reason, you don't want me here and you put your own bracelet in my bag!" She removed the bag from her wrist and handed it to Honey.

​

Honey opened the bag to confirm its content. She removed the bracelet and placed it gently on St. Jane's desk.

Lady Dorothy approached Bea and smacked her soundly across the cheek. "I want her removed," she demanded. "Her and her little sister-in-law – two nasty little mushrooms who think they can rise above their station by marrying well." Lady Dorothy flicked an imaginary piece of dirt from Bea's gown. "Oh, look, there's still some dirt clinging to this mushroom."

​

"You go too far," Lord Murray said quietly.

​

"She has no reason to steal a bracelet," Jim countered. "In case you've forgotten, we're getting married in little over three weeks. If Bea desired, I could cover her in diamond bracelets. But as my lovely bride does not enjoy jewelry, I respect her desires."

​

"Perhaps it did just slip off your wrist," Lady Honey said, eager for peace. Emotional turmoil often made her feel ill to her stomach.

​

"Murray?" St. Jane asked.

​

"Wife?" Murray asked.

​

Lady Dorothy, realizing perhaps her mistake, took the bracelet off St. Jane's desk. "Next time, be more careful," she tossed over her shoulder as she left the room, the aging Lord Edward at her heels.

​

The three remaining occupants of the room breathed a sigh of relief. "Perhaps I should go?" Bea said, finally sitting in the aftermath of the emotional upheaval.

​

"And miss all this fun?" Honey said as she poured tea for them.

​

Jim accepted his tea with a gracious nod. "My own personal shamus," he declared. "Solving crimes even Scotland Yard would cower at."

​

St. Jane accepted his cup of tea. "I daresay even Scotland Yard would hesitate to deal with an irate Lady Dorothy."

​

And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can. ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

 

​

Does no one sleep in their own beds during a house party? Bea thought as she heard the scurrying around in the hallway. She pulled her latest novel from The Temple of the Muses, the loveliest store in all of England as far as she was concerned. Today's book was Lucy Radcliffe and the Mystery of the Missing Marquis. Bea shivered with delight as she soon lost herself in the novel.

 

Our hero arrives, sword at the ready…

​

She startled when she saw the door to her room open. "Jim!" she exclaimed as she saw his red hair as he peeked in. "What are you doing here?" she asked innocently.

​

Jim smiled. "I wanted to spend time with you, my love." He approached the bed. "Alone." He paused for a moment as Bea looked less than thrilled. Perhaps this had been a mistake? "I can always leave again, if you would prefer?"

​

Bea shook her head, loose curls shaking wildly around her head. "No, Jim. I. Well, that is. Stay." She blushed hotly and placed her book down by the bedside table. "I've missed you so."

​

His hands traced her petal soft cheek. "How's my Shamus?" he inquired with a mischievous smile.

​

Her hand reached up and touched his lightly whiskered face. "She's fine," she answered, placing a butterfly soft kiss against his cheek.

​

Jim sat beside her and gently pulled her into his arms. Her soft, unbound curves pressed against him and Jim shuddered with long repressed desire. This, he thought with his desire hazed brain, this is why I've no desire for mistresses.

​

Bea gently kissed him and looked up with innocent blue eyes. "Teach me, Jim? I love you. Teach me what I need to know to please you."

​

Long, languid hours later…

 

"Well, I don't believe I'll be sitting a horse anytime soon," Bea giggled, playing with the soft whorls of hair on Jim's chest.

 

"Was I too rough?" Jim asked, immediately contrite. "Truly, I tried to be gentle, my love."

​

Bea smiled a truly feminine smugly happy smile. "It was wonderful, my love. I'm so glad we didn't wait." She gently tested the resiliency of his skin with her teeth. "Is there nothing you don't do well?" she asked with an impish smile.

​

"I'm told my French is only tolerable," Jim said, dryly and smiled at her happy giggle.

​

"Let me guess," she challenged, eyes lit with happiness. "Some native French speaker corrected your pronunciation on some rare term. Other than that, I am sure your French is perfectly wonderful."

​

"I don't speak Russian," Jim said, continuing the game.

​

"But if you did," Bea said, resignedly, "I'm sure you would do it well.

​

Jim kissed the top of her head and tucked her tighter against his body. "We probably won't get much more time to spend together between now and the wedding. I was greedy and wanted to enjoy every second with you." She felt him shrug in the dimly lit chamber. "And selfish enough to not want any awkwardness on our wedding night." He kissed her again, absorbing her essence into him.

​

Bea snuggled deeper into his arms. "I'm so glad you did, Jim." She placed a kiss along the firm pads of his muscles. "I love how strong you are. You always make me feel so dainty and petite when I'm anything but."

Jim slid her beneath him in order to kiss her again. "You always feel dainty and petite to me," he challenged.

​

"Jim?" Bea said, wincing a little as she moved.

 

"Hm?" Jim was busily nuzzling the soft creamy arch of her neck.

​

"I fear I may be too sore for more lessons tonight," Bea said sadly.

​

"Hm," Jim said, as his lips moved along her shoulder. "I understand. But your next lesson is all pleasure. No risk or pain." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I promise."

​

He kissed along her neck and shoulders and down further. True to his word, it was all for her with tons of pleasure and absolutely no pain.

​

Long, not so quiet moments later

 

"Did I hurt you?" Bea asked.

​

Jim laughed. "Tell me, Shamus, how could you have hurt me?"

​

Bea shook her head, pushing Jim down on the bed. "I scratched you, Jim. I know I did. Let me see if I broke skin?"

​

"I'm fine!" Jim said, realizing her intent. He backed away from her, keeping his back firmly away from her gaze.

​

She glanced at him, curious and hurt. "Jim, I don't understand. I just need to see if I hurt you."

​

"I didn't feel a thing," Jim replied truthfully, donning his shirt with undue haste.

​

A sickening sense of realization began to dawn in Bea's imagination. "Jim," she said in the quiet of her chamber. "Let me see. Please?"

​

"I'll have my valet look," Jim promised.

​

Blue eyes clashed with green as determined love met stubborn fear. "Get that delectable bottom back on this bed and show me your back, or I promise I shall… I shall… Well, I'm not sure what I shall do. But I'll do it! And I'm sure you won't like it!"

​

A half grin graced Jim's kiss swollen lips. "I'm sure I won't," he agreed.

​

Bea nodded, regal in her loose curls and wrapped in nothing but a bed sheet. She patted the space next to her, invitingly.

​

With a muttered curse, Jim joined her on the bed. Shoulders broad, spine rigid, he allowed her to lift his shirt. He sensed more than felt her small delicate hands trace the vicious crisscross patterns of scarring on his back. Feeling anything on his back had died years ago.

​

"Have you seen enough?" Jim's voice was cold, ice cold in the warm coziness of her bed chamber.

​

In response, Bea wrapped herself around his back, her tears washing across his shoulders and back. "I don't need your pity, Bea," Jim said. "I survived. And as I'm sure you can tell any scratches you may have made couldn't even compare."

​

Bea reached out and tugged on a lock of his hair. "Ouch! What's that for?"

​

"Pity is the very last emotion I feel. Yes, I feel sad for the little boy who had to endure such pain and trauma. But I feel such admiration for the man. How did you ever survive, James?"

​

Jim shrugged, relief coursing through him when he felt his shirt lowered over his back. "We survive when we have no other choice, Bea."

​

​

No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft

​

​

Lady Laura and Lady Dorothy were conspiring in an alcove off the St. Jane's less formal ballroom. "Your plan didn't work," Lady Dorothy said, unnecessarily. "How do we get rid of the chit now?"

​

Lady Laura eyed Lord Rochester from across the room. "We had it all worked out," she said with a wild look in her eyes. "I would trap him into marriage and then we get to share in the wonder and wealth of Rochester. You rushed it by trying to get the chit out of the way too early."

​

Lady Dorothy scoffed. "With her and Lady Maddie by his sides, you'll never get him alone in order to be compromised."

​

Lady Laura was silent as she digested this opinion.

​

"He hardly comes to Town," Lady Dorothy said, doubting this new plan. "How, exactly, is he to take me to mistress if we never occupy the same city. His estate in Croton is days away from Lord Murray's estate."

Lady Laura smiled. "Just leave that to me. After I'm Countess, I decide the when and the where his Lordship goes."

​

Lady Dorothy closed her eyes, feeling sudden shame at this plan the two of them had conspired to create. The handsome Lord Rochester was rich and virile and devoted to his little mushroom. He was everything her own husband lacked.

​

Where had it all gone wrong? Her family had been in dun territory, she had very little by way of dowry and the old Baron had asked for her hand. Naturally, she wanted a young, handsome lord. Someone to give her babies to play with and a long and happy life. But Baron Murray had three adult sons and didn't want any heirs from her body. What he did offer was a respectable entrée into Society, money for gowns, and dowries for her younger sister. Was it really such a horrible exchange?

​

When Lady Laura had approached her with this scheme, she was overjoyed. Lady Laura's father, Lord Ramsey, was renownedly tightfisted and all who knew Lord Rochester knew him to be a kind and generous man. Since she, Lady Dorothy, was unable to wed the handsome earl, she would help Lady Laura marry him. Once the ink was dry on the wedding license, Lady Dorothy would have free reign over Lord Rochester's extra marital enjoyments.

​

It was perfect.

​

Except he went and got engaged to an upstart girl from the country. Some knight or squire's daughter – respectable enough but hardly good ton.

​

"He's perfect for me," Lady Laura was continuing. "I mean, except I'll have to be exceedingly careful with my affairs. No more dark haired lovers for me. I couldn't risk the offspring." She clucked her tongue in disgust. "Well, one can only hope the children will all look like me. That red hair and freckles are terribly unfashionable."

​

Lady Dorothy nodded, more to herself than anything else. She watched Miss Belden smile up at her fiancé.

​

The girl was truly smitten, she realized. And with dawning horror, she realized that Lord Rochester was just as enamored with Miss Belden.

​

"No," Lady Dorothy said, her voice quiet. "I won't do it. I won't interfere in their engagement. Their wedding is for the end of August. The Banns have been read. Leave them be, Lady Laura. Leave them be and set your eyes on some other wealthy lord."

​

Lady Laura turned to look at her co-conspirator. "Do not even think of backing out of our deal. How well do you think you'll be received in the homes of the ton when it's revealed you lied when accusing Miss Belden of thievery?"

​

Lady Dorothy's eyes widened as she realized just how much power Lady Laura had over her future. Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. I will go and keep Lady Maddie and Miss Belden busy in conversation. But I will not help you to get Lord Rochester alone. And after that, our association is finished."

​

She strolled her way over to where Lord Rochester danced attendance on his fiancé and foster sister. "Excuse me, Lord Rochester," Lady Dorothy said, as she approached the small group. "I was wondering if I could, perhaps, have a moment of Lady Maddie's and Miss Belden's time?"

​

Bea and Honey exchanged a look and then nodded. "Of course, Lady Dorothy."

​

Jim frowned, worryingly. "The dance after next is the waltz, Miss Belden. I will collect you, then?"

​

Bea nodded and smiled at her handsome fiancé. "I shall count on it, my Lord."

​

Jim left the small group of ladies, still concerned but properly dismissed.

​

Lady Dorothy bit her lip as two sets of curious eyes returned to her. She opened her mouth to continue on with the farce Lady Laura had planned out, but then saw the hungry heated look in Laura's eyes as she tracked down her red headed quarry.

​

Decision made, Lady Dorothy rushed through her explanation. "I lied earlier, Miss Belden. I apologize." She nodded to Lady Laura. "Lady Laura and I devised a terrible scheme, to trap Lord Rochester in marriage. This was before we had heard of your engagement, naturally. She would be his bride and I would…well, I would, you know?"

​

Bea nodded, not completely sure what Lady Dorothy was trying to say but wanting her to continue.

​

"Lady Laura is at it right now, trying to find a way to get Lord Rochester alone. Then she will call for help and I am to find them together in a compromising situation. Lord Ramsey will call for their marriage and…" She let her voice trail off, allowing Bea and Honey to fill in the gaps.

​

"Where did Lord Rochester go?" Honey asked, standing on tip toes in order to find a glint of his red hair.

​

"He said he would be back," Bea said, quite upset with the turn of events. "What are we to do?" She turned to Lady Dorothy. How to ask the next question? "Do you or Lady Laura love the earl?"

 

Lady Dorothy looked miserable. "It was all for the money," she whispered, ashamed. "I am truly sorry. I can see how he looks at you. I can see how you look at him. Once I saw your bond, I knew our plan was doomed." She sighed, her heart heavy. "I am going to find my husband. I'm going to get a breath of air. I will not be the one finding them together and crying fowl."

​

As Lady Dorothy made her way along the porch, she wiped her eyes and hoped for the best. Not looking where she was going, she was surprised to find herself face to face with a handsome young man. "I," she stuttered. "I'm Lady Dorothy." Oh this was highly improper and she knew it. But she had never felt like this before – this amazingly heated flush stealing along her lower body.

​

"Please to meet you," said the quiet Irishman. "I'm Inspector Mangen. Daniel Mangen."

​

On the other side of the room, far far away from Lady Dorothy's "heated parts"

 

"Look, there's my brother," Bea said as she rushed the room. "Brian, you simply must help us!"

​

"Of course, Bea," Brian said in his sensible older brother voice. "Lady Honey, how are you?"

​

"Oh, Dr. Belden it's just terrible," Honey gushed as she placed her hand along his jacketed arm. "Lady Laura is planning on being compromised by my brother this evening and then crying for a marriage. You simply must help us thwart her intentions."

​

Brian nodded. "I'll check the study. I believe I saw a game of whist being played. Rochester may be watching the round."

​

"I'll tack around the ballroom," Honey said, "see if I cannot get a glint of that hair somewhere."

​

Bea narrowed her eyes in thought. I'm too short to see much of anything, she decided. "I'm going high," she decided, mostly to herself as Brian and Honey had already hurried off. She took off for the balcony overlooking the ballroom.

 

 

Exuberance is beauty ~ William Blake

​

​

From her higher vantage point, she was finally able to see where the cow had taken her fiancé. There! On the other side of the ballroom.

​

The music for a country dance was just starting up and Bea knew no one would hear her shouting over the din of the music.

​

Still slightly out of breath from her run up the stairs, Bea took off around the balcony, making her way to where Jim was being lead off by the blonde trollop. Just as she was within shouting distance, her slipper caught in the rug and Bea went flying over the side rail.

​

She hung on to the railing, embarrassed and afraid, calling out for help. "Jim! Brian! Help!"

​

Others who were standing on the balcony with her tried to assist her but Bea was too afraid to release her hands.

​

Down below, somewhat suspicious but mostly unsuspecting…

 

Lady Laura was insisting she had something to tell him about his late uncle. News that, if true, Jim very much wanted to know. At the same time, he was wary of Lady Laura. She had not proved to be trustworthy where Bea or Honey were concerned.

​

Stirred by the commotion, Jim turned and followed the fellow party goers' gazes north. And there, hanging delightfully and screaming was his fiancé. She dangled from a balustrade on the balcony. He disentangled his arm quickly from Lady Laura and rushed over to the balcony.

​

"I'm here, Shamus," he said, looking up at her with worry mingled with love. "Just let go. I'll catch you."

​

"I'm scared, Jim!" she cried. "Let go of my fingers!" she yelled crossly at some outfitted dandy pulling at the fingers just barely hanging on to the spindle.

​

"Trust me, love," Jim called. "I won't let you fall."

​

She sniffed and tossed her curls. "You let me fall and - well, I'll insist you buy me a new book for each day I'm recovering."

​

Jim laughed. "Deal. Now just let go."

​

Cringing, praying, eyes clenched, Bea let go and soon found herself in Jim's strong, supple arms. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried, peppering his face with small kisses.

​

In her exuberance and in his worry, both forgot they were in the middle of a ton house party.

​

Inspector Mangen, looking slightly mussed and with the lazy relaxed look in his eyes that many of the female guests instantly recognized, wandered out to see what had happened. "Rochester," he nodded. "Miss Belden? What happened?"

​

"Well, that does it, Rochester," came a deep amused voice. "You've got to marry her now."

​

Jim smiled in greeting at Bea's older brother. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Dr. Belden."

 

A/N:

So, in my research, adoption as we know it today would not have been possible. But to stay true to the canon, I let Mr. Wheeler look out for a neighboring nobleman's son. Guide him as he acquired his Town Bronze and all that.

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Per the etymology andhistory research I did, "Jim" has been a nickname of James since the Medieval Period. James is of Hebrew origin meaning "he who supplants" (or he who is supple!) Trixie is of Latin origin meaning "bringer of joy". I just couldn't see a Regency era lady being called "Trixie" though, so I upped it Beatrix which means "voyager through life; blessed". In many ways, I believe those descriptions meet their proposed personalities.

 

Fordyce's Sermons to Young Women is a real book that was published by Dr. James Fordyce which encouraged a feminine manner of speech, action, and appearance over substantive development of ideas. Something I'm certain Trixie would never be caught reading! It's also mentioned in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

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Lucy Radcliffe is, naturally, Trixie's favorite author. The Temple of the Muses was an actual book store in Regency England.

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Any resemblance to your favorite Western Publishing House owned characters is, of course, intentional. I do not own the characters and nor do I profit from their use.

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I hope you enjoyed the story – please leave feedback!