Read Online Forever My Love (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon - Free Book Online
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Historical, Adult, Action, England, Georgia, Courage, destiny, conspiracy, guardian, 18th Century, revolutionary war, american revolution, finishing school, savannah, Cherish, FOREVER MY LOVE, British Nobleman, Fiery Winds, Georgia Plantation, Wanton Ward
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I stay, Aunt Arabella?"
Arabella's eyes clashed with the headmistress's, and she gave a resigned sigh—she could not win against this woman. "I'm afraid so, dearest." She tilted Royal's face up to her. "You are not to worry about anything. I will be in London for the rest of the week. After that I shall have to return to Paris, but I will keep in contact with you." She glanced at Mrs. Fortescue. "I would hope you have no objections if my niece and I correspond with each other?"
"I have no objections to letters. Just do not come yourself."
Tears gathered in Royal's eyes, and she wiped them on the back of her hand, bringing a disapproving frown from the headmistress. "Do not worry about me, Aunt Arabella," Royal said bravely. "I shall be fine."
"I think it's best that you leave now," Mrs. Fortescue instructed Arabella. "I will see your niece settled. Have no concern for her."
With a final embrace, Arabella moved hesitantly to the door, turned and smiled at Royal, and then left. She felt as if she were deserting the child, but what choice had she?
With the memory of Royal's forlorn little face in her mind, Arabella climbed into the waiting coach and instructed the driver to take her to Devonshire House.
Mrs. Fortescue looked Royal up and down with a critical eye. She took in her crisp, new black gown and her forlorn expression. "Have you brought your own maid to see to your needs, Miss Bradford?"
"Yes, madame. My aunt engaged a girl for me. She should arrive this afternoon."
"Very well. This interview is at a close. You may settle in now."
Then the headmistress said with a softness that surprised Royal: "You are going to have a difficult time here, Royal Bradford. You must remember on the days that are the darkest, the sun will be shining somewhere in the world. You remind me very much of myself at your age."
Without another word, Mrs. Fortescue moved to the door and called to someone who stood just outside. Royal was quickly introduced to Mrs. Hereford, the head housekeeper, a large, severe-looking woman who merely nodded and motioned for Royal to follow her.
As Royal moved into the hallway, her new shoes made a loud clicking noise against the polished floor. Dismayed, she tried tiptoeing to lessen the noise, but that only drew a reproachful glance from Mrs. Hereford.
They climbed the steep stairs and went down a long, dimly lit corridor before Mrs. Hereford stopped at a door. "I will direct the men to deliver your trunks. When your maid arrives, I'll send her up to you. Supper is at seven o'clock. If you arrive at the dining room late, you will not be allowed to eat." She looked down her beaked nose at Royal. "Of course, we dress for supper."
Royal nodded in understanding as the woman moved abruptly out the door, closing it with a snap behind her. Disheartened, she glanced about the room that was to be her home.
It was not a large room, but it was surprisingly cheerful and comfortable. A white lace coverlet adorned the bed, and matching lace curtains hung at the wide window, allowing a burst of sunlight into every corner of the room. There was a desk, a dressing table, and a chair, all of polished cherrywood. The marble fireplace meant that the room would be warm and cheery.
Royal walked to the window, which gave her a view of the long avenue at the front of the school. She watched as fashionable carriages came and went in a steady stream. Across the street was a park, and on the other side of the park she could just make out the roofs of several stately houses.
She was overcome with sadness, completely isolated in this unknown world.
What would her life be like for the next four years?
***
May 1775
It was after midnight, and the lights still glowed brightly at Swanhouse Plantation. Thirty gentlemen had gathered in the library to discuss the distressing news coming out of Massachusetts.
Damon Routhland held up his hand, calling for calm. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, this bickering among ourselves is not going
Arabella's eyes clashed with the headmistress's, and she gave a resigned sigh—she could not win against this woman. "I'm afraid so, dearest." She tilted Royal's face up to her. "You are not to worry about anything. I will be in London for the rest of the week. After that I shall have to return to Paris, but I will keep in contact with you." She glanced at Mrs. Fortescue. "I would hope you have no objections if my niece and I correspond with each other?"
"I have no objections to letters. Just do not come yourself."
Tears gathered in Royal's eyes, and she wiped them on the back of her hand, bringing a disapproving frown from the headmistress. "Do not worry about me, Aunt Arabella," Royal said bravely. "I shall be fine."
"I think it's best that you leave now," Mrs. Fortescue instructed Arabella. "I will see your niece settled. Have no concern for her."
With a final embrace, Arabella moved hesitantly to the door, turned and smiled at Royal, and then left. She felt as if she were deserting the child, but what choice had she?
With the memory of Royal's forlorn little face in her mind, Arabella climbed into the waiting coach and instructed the driver to take her to Devonshire House.
Mrs. Fortescue looked Royal up and down with a critical eye. She took in her crisp, new black gown and her forlorn expression. "Have you brought your own maid to see to your needs, Miss Bradford?"
"Yes, madame. My aunt engaged a girl for me. She should arrive this afternoon."
"Very well. This interview is at a close. You may settle in now."
Then the headmistress said with a softness that surprised Royal: "You are going to have a difficult time here, Royal Bradford. You must remember on the days that are the darkest, the sun will be shining somewhere in the world. You remind me very much of myself at your age."
Without another word, Mrs. Fortescue moved to the door and called to someone who stood just outside. Royal was quickly introduced to Mrs. Hereford, the head housekeeper, a large, severe-looking woman who merely nodded and motioned for Royal to follow her.
As Royal moved into the hallway, her new shoes made a loud clicking noise against the polished floor. Dismayed, she tried tiptoeing to lessen the noise, but that only drew a reproachful glance from Mrs. Hereford.
They climbed the steep stairs and went down a long, dimly lit corridor before Mrs. Hereford stopped at a door. "I will direct the men to deliver your trunks. When your maid arrives, I'll send her up to you. Supper is at seven o'clock. If you arrive at the dining room late, you will not be allowed to eat." She looked down her beaked nose at Royal. "Of course, we dress for supper."
Royal nodded in understanding as the woman moved abruptly out the door, closing it with a snap behind her. Disheartened, she glanced about the room that was to be her home.
It was not a large room, but it was surprisingly cheerful and comfortable. A white lace coverlet adorned the bed, and matching lace curtains hung at the wide window, allowing a burst of sunlight into every corner of the room. There was a desk, a dressing table, and a chair, all of polished cherrywood. The marble fireplace meant that the room would be warm and cheery.
Royal walked to the window, which gave her a view of the long avenue at the front of the school. She watched as fashionable carriages came and went in a steady stream. Across the street was a park, and on the other side of the park she could just make out the roofs of several stately houses.
She was overcome with sadness, completely isolated in this unknown world.
What would her life be like for the next four years?
***
May 1775
It was after midnight, and the lights still glowed brightly at Swanhouse Plantation. Thirty gentlemen had gathered in the library to discuss the distressing news coming out of Massachusetts.
Damon Routhland held up his hand, calling for calm. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, this bickering among ourselves is not going
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