Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Hattie, are you sure about this?’ Ophelia asked, as she and Trudy followed Hattie to the line that would take her to Mr Sneed to purchase her ticket.
‘I am positive. It will be a fine adventure and once I am settled, I shall send word for you both to join me. Bath will be beautiful and the family seems lovely. His Grace was kind to send them a reference for me.’
‘It was the least he could do,’ Trudy muttered under her breath.
Hattie smiled at her loyalty. ‘He did not have to, especially after how we parted.’
‘Are you sure you’ve done the right thing in leaving him?’ Ophelia asked.
Hattie shrugged. ‘He let me go just as I let him go. We merely let go of one another, I suppose.’ She ignored the prick in her chest at the lie she told herself.
She had thought a thousand times about how things could have been different.
If she hadn’t told him of her birthright or shoved him away.
If she hadn’t been so proud. He said he loved her as she was, but she just couldn’t believe him.
It was far easier to believe his rejection than that he wanted her as she was…
as orphan Hattie Potts. But she couldn’t deny she missed him.
That she wished she had behaved differently at that moment.
That she had dared risk trying to make things work between them. That she had given them a chance.
The queue moved forward and Hattie smiled, knowing she had enough in her reticule to pay for her journey this time. Gaining confidence, she stepped forward and set the coins from her reticule on the counter. It did not matter now. She was on to another adventure.
‘A ticket to Bath on the next stagecoach, please, Mr Sneed.’
Mr Sneed shuffled through some papers and then glanced back at her.
‘No need, Miss Potts,’ he answered behind the counter. Without looking at her, he pushed the coins back towards her.
‘Is it not enough?’ she stammered in lowered tones, her cheeks heating. Surely she hadn’t underestimated the expense. She leaned back to glance up at the time bill and cost on the placard above him.
‘I only wish to travel by stagecoach,’ she said. ‘It is enough according to your sign. Is it full?’
‘Your transport has already been paid for,’ Mr Sneed answered, leaning closer with a wry smile.
‘No stagecoach for you, Miss,’ he replied with a wink.
‘Exciting opportunity awaits you. Just beyond that stagecoach there.’ He pointed behind her.
She turned as a stagecoach pulled away to see the most glorious sight she’d ever seen.
The large, emblazoned gold crest of William’s black carriage came into view and reflected in the morning sunlight.
Two chestnut-brown horses were bridled and ready, nibbling on the patchy grass beneath them.
Their manes were braided with flowers, purple violets by the look of them, and her heart lurched in her chest. Eddie sat on the box seat with his hat resting beside him as he held the reins loosely in one hand and ate a red apple with the other. He smiled and gave her a wink.
The carriage door opened, and out stepped William Sutherland, Duke of Wimberley.
He was dressed in the finest of dark trousers with a matching purple waistcoat and jacket.
He carried a single red rose and wrapped box.
Millie hopped out behind him and rushed to her.
The crowd parted between them and Hattie could scarcely breathe as they walked towards her.
Millie crashed into her and wrapped her arms around Hattie’s legs. Hattie stooped to hug her.
‘Please say yes,’ the little girl whispered in her ear. Before Hattie could ask more, Millie pulled back and ran behind her father.
‘William,’ Hattie said, breathless as she rose to standing. The sight of him, the surprise, all of it undid her. Her heart hammered in her chest. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I heard you were leaving and I simply could not let you leave without trying again.’ The warmth in his gaze and hope in his smile unsettled her.
He knelt before her and the crowd gasped.
‘Without telling you that I love you and wish to spend the rest of my life getting to know all there is to know about you, Miss Hattie Potts, if you will have me. Will you marry me?’
‘But I am not…’ she countered.
‘Not what?’ he asked.
‘The usual duchess. I can offer you no lineage or fine manners. If anything, marrying me will ruin you and I cannot have that.’ She laid out all her fears. Her words came out as a trembly mess. A tear slid down her cheek.
He rose to stand with her. ‘You offer me more than I could have ever asked for. You cared for me when I had lost everything, kept up a lie for my well-being and loved me and my daughter with all your heart. That is more than I could have ever hoped for in a betrothed.’
‘Even if it was a fake one?’ she laughed.
‘Especially since it was a fake one.’ He cupped her cheek. ‘The question is if you can trust me.’
Her cheeks heated and her gaze dropped. ‘That was unfair of me to say before. I have had some time to think about it and I was punishing you for my past. For a decision my father and others made. I can trust you. I do trust you. Can you trust me?’
‘With all I am,’ he replied, his timbre deep.
‘Then I accept. I will be your betrothed, for real this time.’
He smiled and kissed her, letting the reporters get their gossip and the crowd their romance. She laughed and nestled into his side.
The Duke of Wimberley had finally found a wife.