First book of the historical trilogy.
This is a rough draft and unedited.
❗️ For mature audience. Language and some scenes are not suitable for the younger audience.❗️
No. 9 in #maiden (07/09/19)
No. 59 in #history (06/27/19)
No. 1 in #overs...
In all honesty, while writing this chapter... my imagination or rather my word flow carried a tad away. I was planning for Rose to go with her, but alas life is full of surprises and we cannot always get what we want. Also, I am not the proudest of this chapter, but I kept you waiting for way too long. (I may be editing this chapter soon)
Special thanks to @annemgill and @elksei and all the others, who took a chance on this story and awarded me with every writer's dream - a star on a chapter(s). Also thank you for adding this story to your lists. You guys have no idea how much it means to me - small as such an action may seem to you. Without further ado... here is the new chapter.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When Angélique suggested after their challenge – which Rose, to nobody's surprise won – they ought to visit Duke Stamford after they have dinner and dress appropriately, never did she expect to come upon Captain Rolenth saying such crude words, about her much less.
She had no illusion about how the Ton envisioned her and her character or the lack of thereof, it nevertheless struck a nerve. Especially when while he was talking, Richard just stood there and listen on.
Mayhap, Angélique ought not to blame either of the men. She never shared any of her burdens with the Duke, therefore, he could not know if she truly was the King's mistress or no. And she never once corrected the Ton when she heard the rumours first blooming, nor did she set the men right when she first met them.
Although Angélique understood the predicament Richard found himself in, and the role she, herself, played in it, her heart had a mind of its own tonight, so it seemed. A sharp pain pierced through it, slicing through smoothly as butter. Angélique was not aware of her own actions. She presumed the gasp came from her friend, but as the two gentlemen turned to them, she realised, it was her, with a mouth still hung wide open. She was petrified.
A supporting hand stretched and squeezed her biceps. Angélique with misty eyes looked at Richard. She was willing to give up everything for this man, albeit she had next to nothing. Never once did she stop to consider how much was at stake for him. Just how much would he have to give up.
He was a Duke, a very respectable gentleman, with prospects of finding a good titled wife who would know how to tend to his estate as well as his needs. One, he would not, with time, be ashamed to parade around the room filled with the Ton. One, he would happily and contently live a respectable English life with.
Another wave of agony squeezed her heart. She needed this man as she needed air. Yet, his future happiness was upmost importance for her, even more than her own. The question was, was she willing to let go so easily? Angélique always had an ability to assess when she faced a battle she could win and when it was better to retreat. Duke of Stamford was not a battle she ought to win, she realised with a heavy heart.
"We bid you a good evening, Captain, my Lord," Angélique spoke. Her throat tight yet, her voice steady. 'You are doing this for his own good. He deserves to be happy; his past is sorrowful enough.' Angélique thought and that little self-encouragement was what she needed to make her decision.
