To Unleash a Lady’s Hidden Desire – Extended Epilogue

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“I definitely am glad to see you all. And I hope you are all in love with your dresses,” said Selina, now smiling eagerly. 

“Will you read more to us, please! I want to hear more of the story Auntie,” said Cassandra.

“Yes, and so do I?” added Jessica as the Duke and Duchess watched on.

Selina had been excited to see what they might think of her title. The Duke of Hillian Heights, it was a mock up of her brother’s life, and included the entire story of what had occurred just a few years beforehand. 

“Is everyone ready?” asked Selina, eager for everyone to hear more. She passed her manuscript to Roger who began to read it aloud.

“Okay page three…”

“Yes!” everyone said in unison, getting comfortable near the fireplace. 

The grass looked magical to Roger as he watched the women riding ahead of him. They were in deep conversation about the details of the dresses they were each going to wear for the ball. The Duke was trying his hand at horse whispering, taking a slight backseat as he ‘spoke’ to Marley, using his voice to calm the animal more decently. His father had shown him the beginnings of the horse whispering ideal, something he had read about that made him feel more content about rearing the animals, and explaining how the servants should also relay their behavioural nuances toward him, the majestic animal he had always loved so much. So far, the Duke had noticed some changes, but it was a field requiring less science and more forward motion in terms of energy and emotional exchange with the animal and the human. It was a topic he longed to write about, maybe for the gazette, in time, and once he worked out exactly how to maintain a big eighteen foot beast without the need for whips and extra harnessing. It was something he took pride in, and his sister loved to allow him the time to do what he enjoyed, giving him space on the ride to give his talking commands to the wonderful creature. 

“He looks beautiful, brother. Majestic even. Father would be so proud of what you have accomplished with him. It’s very amazing how far he has come in just three short months.”

The Duke nodded at his sister, still a few decent yards away from the pair who were now stopped and waiting, in a bed of gorgeous wildflowers that had just bloomed. The Duke could notice the lavender in Ms. Jones’ dress, easily matching the pinkness and the essence of the flowers below her own feet, and pushing eagerly above the ground, blocking the chestnut’s hooves quite easily. He had to remind himself to answer his sister, not realising how long he had taken to eye Ms. Jones and her quaint steed.

“Indeed, has it been three months already? Good gracious, well that went quickly. I will endeavour to make my rides a half hour longer so he is ready for the visit from Aunt Kathryn. She is excitedly anticipating the success of her own bay, if it works on Father’s.”

The Duke was taken by the look in Ms. Jones’ eyes. She too was carefully studying him, sitting eagerly atop his father’s horse that is prancing some, as if to show off in front of her somehow.

“I think it’s delightful up here. You can see for a long way down to the creek. I wish we had a decent sized creek on our land,” said Ms. Jones. “But, we do have a lovely garden with a fountain, so it is still worth being grateful for. There is just something so magical, so intriguing about a body of running water. Moving over the rocks with force, especially after the rain. I also delight in the sounds of it. Then there are the frogs too, they make such a lovely, enchanting sound. I am so grateful to be here with you both right now. Thank you.”

The Duke is happy to be under the sun, on his father’s horse and in his sister’s and Ms. Jones’ company. He feels alive, as if he is riding free with his father, safe in the knowledge that the estate is being taken care of with his mother leading the upper and lower servants, all with the help of her own imagination. And, she would sometimes even get happier than that, delighting in the changing of furniture, or of the decor too, or helping Mrs. Barker to be a delightful spectacle in the kitchen. In fact, being out and riding with the women made him feel like everything was alright again, as if everything wasn’t lost, or even coming undone at the seams like it had felt when his parents had died, just a few months prior, in the dead of night. It had been one of the saddest, loneliest feelings in the world to lose both parents within days of one another. First his mother and then his father, probably losing the will to go on and fight the damned disease because of losing the one he loved so much. Yes, Agatha, the beautiful wife who brought so much life and brilliant joy to the entire household. And even the servants loved her, Mrs. Barker especially, who always went the extra mile to impress Agatha, to entice her into a creative mastery that was like watching art in real time. It was like the splash of paint on canvas in the works, or even a poem with a hidden meaning so deep that only few people could understand it. 

“I am so glad we could ride today. The flowers look so elegant even if they are as wild and unkempt as they are,” said Ms. Egerton.

“Yes, the view is superb,” added the Duke, secretly knowing he was discussing the fact that he was looking at Ms. Jones. The loveliness of her was better than the spring, in his mind, and a definite sight to behold amongst the bed of wildflowers, accentuating her loveliness ten, no; one hundred fold.

Ms. Egerton had her hand over her mouth and was giggling again. “I am not entirely sure that my dear brother wants to discuss the future betrothed. It may not be something that is of exceptional interest or importance to him, Jessie. Or is it, brother?”

“Well, if I may say, sometimes I dream about my future betrothed. I do believe that one day the beloved who I choose will be a suitable one. And definitely, definitively someone who is not boring and enjoys long conversations with me. She will, no, she must enjoy reading and discussing alternative poetry and even be interested in politics, perhaps?” 

Miss Egerton looked up at the bountiful blueness of the sky. “Politics? Goodness me, I am not altogether sure there is a lady who is taken by the subject at hand. I think it is less romantic than the emotional breadth of novels and of real, deep seated poetry that has the heart longing, yearning for more. I want a husband who is easy on the eye. Yes, someone I can stare at for hours as he reads or does his own reading of politics. I am not shy to say that I would most like a handsome man. I want him to love me as if I am the last woman upon the earth, and I want him to feel my love for him and the many children we will share together. Oh yes, he must be longing for children as much as I am. I hope he has deep brown or hazel eyes, and I also hope he has a long jaw line that denotes a strong wisdom and good temperament too. Oh, how I long to have a husband who is my dream come true.” 

The Duke and Ms. Jones locked eyes for a moment, signalling their enjoyment of the day with one another, and it was obvious that they were not entirely listening to Ms. Egerton’s long-winded speech about her very unreal, and yet to be ascertained husband to be. It seemed for a moment as if time had stopped, and it was as if the wonderment of the beauty of the day had taken over their senses. There was the pollen; the buzzing of the bees so close by to the wildflowers that seemed to dance at the feet of the steeds. It was a truly magical day, both temperature and weather wise, and Ms. Egerton very much seemed to be still caught up in her avid dreaming about a beau. There was a silence; a fortitude that seemed to last for minutes, and then the Duke’s horse began to paw at the ground, waking him up from his reverie of both the beauty of the day and the company he kept with his dear sister and her kind-hearted best friend, Ms. Jones. 

“You are both not listening to me now! I know how much I rave on about dreams and things. I do apologise to you both for hijacking the conversation ever so much. I am just so eager to be married and I long for gorgeous, beautiful children too. I believe I shall be a kind mother and one who sings for them after suppertime, just like our mother did for us. I really hope I can be a wonderful mother. Oh, and there I go again, talking on and on as if I am the only one here. I will silence myself for a while so you may take in the scenery,” said Miss Egerton, trying desperately hard to quelch herself, but still seeming to be in her own reverie within her imaginative and dreaminess of mind.

“It is fine, sister. You are allowed to dream. And even if it is aloud it means that God will only know it more. He will hear your requests just like you would do within a heart-filled prayer, and so I believe he will offer these things to you. You do deserve a beautiful life.”

“Yes, your brother is correct. God hears you as we both do this glorious day. We are lucky to witness it before its occurrence, dear Selina. And one day we will know it has happened from this longing you have made public here today,” said Ms. Jones, smiling kindly at her best friend, and then reining her smile in slightly as she looked towards Roger. 

“Wow, it’s truly wonderful Selina. You have captured everything so perfectly.”

“Read some more please, pleeeeease,” said Jessica. It is wonderful.”

“Just a little more, then it will be bed time,” said Roger. He was smiling broadly. 

Under the gazebo, Miss Egerton sipped her enjoyment of low tea, it was not the dandelion tea she had so longed for, but a Twining’s black tea, a morning blend which had a perfect taste with some enticing essence of perfume that felt like the smell might be eaten as well as digested through the sensitiveness of the sense of smell. The tulips on the made up table were fashioned into a lovely arrangement that made her beauty even more radiant as the sun hit her golden hair, bouncing off of it in a mesmerizing reflection and ensuring the tiny white flowers in the fabric of her dress were also announced fully, or so the Duke noticed. He also realised exactly how wonderful a wife she would be, albeit to a kind man with a lovely demeanour as well as a strong and forthcoming presence all told. And now, he too longed for her to be wed. She did look to be more than ready for it, and it was something he had asked for each time he said his evening prayers. At least it had been, since they had enjoyed the ride with Ms. Jones. He would need to be a kind and strong husband, this man, for Selina who deserved an honourable man who would love her overly, and their children too. 

The Duke looked out at the day, and he could hear his sister reading a poem aloud. Her words were sweetly expressed now. “What doth ye make of me, wren? How doth you know when to visit me on the hour? For it is like the crest of the moon, knowing when to wax and wane. Or perhaps a flower ready to open its petals at the first hint of the sun that doeth break through the day. Oh, how I long for it now. To know you, like the wren who visits me when it is time for it to feed so elegantly, so kindly and directly. You, my dear, beloved one, you remind me of all of nature’s glories, of the sun in its warmth that showers the days and the faces of men as they go about theirs. You remind me of the majesty of the mountains. The way they sit so wonderfully and are humbled by the rain. You remind me of the gentleness of the summer breeze too, for it seems to find me in longing for you during the summertime. Oh, how will I know when you shall return to me? The tick tock of the clock is maddening as I wait for you. For will it be a day or an hour, or multitudes of days and hours? One cannot know it off hand. If I only knew just where you were, my love, I would plant every seed so that it would grow forth and find you; just like a vine that wraps its branches around a wire, feeling to be with the sun as it grows ever upward, knowing it shall find some resoluteness if it just keeps pushing ever upward, feeling its way to you like the sun must do upon that glorious face of yours. I love you more than you know, dear beloved. And without finding you again I fear I will lose my own will to live. For I must touch your soft hand again, and let the graciousness of your presence find me humbled. Oh love, tell me where to go to get to you. If I need a boat I will build one, and if I must climb the highest peak I shall do that too. For you and I are one love, our souls are destined to combine.”

The words seemed to solidify inside of Miss Egerton’s brain, as if she was one with the words as she read them. The Duke could see how much her love for poetry was also ingrained with her ideals of love, and to know that somewhere, somehow; perhaps even at the upcoming ball there would be a gentleman who was right for her. So that when they stood together and talked or danced, that everyone in the room would enjoy the watching of it, as if they were a template for what might be for others, and in the ‘bubble’ of real love. For it also might occur one day for the Duke too. He deserved such a thing in his life, didn’t he? He thought so. And as soon as his dear sister had it, it was then he would also know that he must find it for himself. That is when he would grant himself permission to have it occur. And now, after watching his lovely sister romanticizing about it, the Duke also had a certain longing, somewhere back and behind his mind’s eye, and secretly in the depths of his big and loving heart. It was a thing he also longed and hoped for in great ferocity, but no-one really knew the depths of his longing. In all of its essence, it was a wonderful dream that might be fulfilled by the good Lord himself, hopefully, and of course, after he saw his own sister wed before him. He also deeply knew that his mother Agatha would agree with his unselfish choice to wait too, for it was the gentlemanly thing to do, to put another sibling’s needs before your own. And although this was his plan, he still thought about the day when it would come forward with fruition for himself. So then they (he and his beloved) would share brilliant laughter together, discuss the gazette and all of its agendas, and then sit together by a warm fire and know one another perfectly, and behind closed doors, secretly, as man and wife should be known to one another. 

His sister read another poem now. Her voice was sweet like honey milk and had a longing in it that he also had residing within his own heart too. “Oh joyous day, bring forth the one who shall take all cares away. I say, do not stray, but come hither so we may play. You can sing while I place the notes together for you to melody. I too know the song we will sing, as if off…”

“… by heart and then we’ll make it a true sound, a sound that sees us joined as an orchestra together, in the song of life, that dances within us,” said the Duke, interrupting his beloved sister’s words, and using a tonality that did come across as mocking and openly feminine, to tease her slightly.

The delicate hand was already up, just as Miss Egerton giggled, then laughed loudly as her brother also did too. It was a beautiful noise, or so the butler noticed. It was not unusual for siblings to be close, but these two were like two peas in the same pod, enjoying one another’s company so bountifully and joyfully. In truth, the butler was happy to hear laughter again too, for since the parents had passed the house had become quite still, not reflecting the usual wonderment of the Egerton family. It was a joy to behold, and so he moved past them quietly, still smiling as he went to go and continue about his morning duties, seeing to it that the upper and lower servants were partaking in all of the finalities that belonged to the day, a Wednesday with duties needing to be borne. 

“Oh, dear brother, you do tease me. I cannot seem to get enough of the exquisiteness of hot tea and poetry of late. I guess it is the delightfulness of the upcoming ball. It will be so lovely at The Grande. I know just about all of the guests who have been invited. Jessie and I were discussing it just last week. Her mother’s friend, Mrs. Steele, well she had been a commanding part of the committee in a large entourage making the invitations. And although she probably should not have said it aloud, she was talking quite excitedly about who was to be there. There was even talk of Mr. Henneyford and Earl Grey, too. I must not tell anyone else for fear of reprisal. Apparently, Mrs. Steele also has a wicked tongue for any soul repeating her words in unpermitted conversation. She calls it ‘Devil’s gossip,’ and according to Ms. Jones’ mother, such gossip can be damaging to the character of a person’s soul. Oh, but I had to tell you, though, for I simply could not keep it from my favourite brother, the lovely Duke who will be the most handsome gentleman at the ball, apart from my beloved, whoever he may be. The one with…”

“Hazel eyes and a rigid jaw line? Is that it?” asked the Duke, giving his sister a precarious smile.

“Yes, I do like to give my sister a precarious smile, even nowadays!”

“It is simply wonderful, Selina. The children are sound asleep,” said Jessie. “They have been so excited to see you.”

“Shall we wake them now so I may tell them of my own upcoming child, due this very September, or should we wait until next visit?” asked Selina, beaming a very happy smile. “My Duke only found out just yesterday…”

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Grab my new series, "Scandalous Regency Affairs", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!

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