Page 77 of Forever Her Bachelor

Yours,

Chauncey (The Assistant)

St. Clara waited as his wife opened the second letter. His heart was beating with anticipation, gaze shifting around, taking in his surroundings. There was more that he had yet to discover.

His mother had loved him. For years, she had kept his things from when he was a babe: sketches, blankets, and the letters he so callously returned without opening them. Being in the Queen Anne rooms again was rather disconcerting. He used to follow his mother around and sit with her for hours, allowing her tosketch him. Sometimes they would read or play with his rocks or blocks.

He remembered her admiration and love of him, but his father had told him of her lies and deception the moment they left the castle. Now, he knew the truth: she didn’t betray St. Clara at all. Perhaps she only turned to the elder Heartford because of his father’s betrayal she mentioned. The one question St. Clara wanted answered waswhat did his father do?

Exhausted, he sat down on the other side of his wife, sitting on a small book. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands.

“I believe that was your mother’s journal. I didn’t open it.” Pippa yawned, taking out the second letter. “Would you like me to read this one?”

He nodded, tired from the memories of the past yet desperate to know the woman he had shunned. Sitting back, he pulled Pippa with him so that she rested against his body as he stretched his long legs out. She let out a sigh of content and began reading softly.

Dear Chauncey,

It has been many years of silence since my first letter. I knew when you left with your father that there was a possibility I would lose you forever. I tried visiting several times, but your father would not allow it. You are his heir after all, and I knew that he would not so easily part with you.

My dear boy, you must know that you were the very best of both of us, and I thank God for you every day and pray that one day you will find happiness and love. Most of all, love. I had it once. It was pure, and I thought unmoving, but I was wrong, so very wrong.

I know that the rumors surrounding your sister’s birth and my connection with the late Marquess of Heartford have not been easy for you or our family over the years, butI will not ask for forgiveness for the sins you believe I have caused. However, I will say that all is not what it seems, my love. My only regret in this life is that I will never see what a beautiful man you have become or see Amelia truly happy.

If you do anything for me, Chauncey, please look after your sister. This world of ours is so cruel to women. I am living proof of it. Goodbye, my sweet, wonderful boy. Mother loves you now and forever. I pray that you will be a better man than your father and always show kindness to those in lesser positions than yourself.

Your loving mother, Charlotte Bennett.

Pippa finished reading, his mother’s words permeating the air around them. Chauncey tried to decipher the meaning of it all. His mind wandered over her letter, not understanding the meaning behind her vague words. All he knew was that he was overwhelmed with her truth and honesty.

The one request his mother had asked of him, he had failed at completely. Amelia and his relationship had been nonexistent until her death, yet he still did not know her daughter, Emily. Chauncey closed his eyes, taking note of the wetness falling down his face. His mother had loved him, and he’d repaid her by ignoring her the rest of her life and ignoring his only sister. He would not ignore another family member ever again.

He gripped the journal, determined to learn more about the woman who gave birth to him. A mother who saved his blankets and likenesses for decades. A mother who never stopped loving him. Not even when he turned his back on her and his sister. His mother loved him to her dying day.

His father had done everything in his power to sever their relationship, and like a fool, Chauncey had trusted him, believed everything he ever said.

Pippa sat up, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was soft, washing over him like sunshine after a cold rain. Pulling his wife closer, Chauncey took comfort in the weight of her, her scent, her presence. Everything about Pippa soothed him.

His father had wronged her, too, yet Chauncey had defended the bastard for his actions towards his mother.

“She loved you.” Pippa stared at him, her hand on his chest. “Whatever happened in their marriage was between them; it had nothing to do with you. She loved you, and I think you should take comfort in that.”

Chauncey shook his head emphatically. “How can I, knowing how I treated her all these years? I did not even see her before she died.”

“It’s not your fault. Your father turned you against her when you were just a little boy, and he kept you from her.” Pippa closed her eyes, and he could tell that she was still angry, as was he, about the sins of his father.

“He kept us apart as well.” Chauncey swallowed, choosing his next words carefully but desperately wanting to know the truth. “Does knowing the truth of what my father did change anything between us?”

Pippa’s eyes widened slightly before she adjusted herself on him. “Yes. I like who we are here.”

“I do as well,” he admitted, no longer feeling as if the castle was a prison of the past but rather a haven of possibilities for the future.

Their future.

Pulling her toward him, he pressed his lips to hers in a soft but insistent kiss. Looking into her eyes that had always centered him, he asked the only thing he wanted most in the world. “Stay with me, Kitten. After the year is up, stay with me and be my wife always.”

A small smile curved at the corner of her lips as fresh tears fell. “Yes.”

He kissed her, overjoyed that she was not going to leave him as they had originally decided upon. Now they would be together, and nothing was going to stop them.