A Destiny Decided

By Becky Lunt

Mary Washington's life is thrown into turmoil when her mother Martha takes on the role of matchmaker to the desperate and must spend two full weeks in the company of those as unsuccessful in securing an offer as her sister Charlotte.

David Wilkinson has spent years avoiding all the trumped up misses his mother Diane has thrown at him with no desire to be leg-shackled, but his grandfather's health is failing and he may have no choice but to set up his nursery with a simpering fool as the heir to the earldom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becky Lunt
• Release date: Sep 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370036639

Becky Lunt

My name is Rebecca but I prefer Becky. I could start waffling on about my work and life but that would bore you just as much as it does me so I will just tell you that my imagination is awesome.... Come and get lost with me in my dreams.

Book preview

A Destiny Decided

Copyright 2017 Becky Lunt

Published by Becky Lunt at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Please keep reading…

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Prologue

April 1860... Mitchell Hall County Kent

‘Dearest husband, I am so very happy to tell you that this is the last of the replies to the invitations I sent last month.’ The woman did not glance up from her opened letter and the elderly gentleman merely shook the newssheet he held lightly in both hands as a response. His wife was not so daunted by his unenthusiastic response that she forgot to finish her exclamation. ‘The very last and I am more than satisfied with those that have accepted, indeed I am!’ The two ageing adults were sitting in a brightly lit parlour, the gentleman in his large comfortable, well-worn leather armchair by a sturdy oak side table, while his wife sat in a delicate floral printed armchair over by the unlit fire place.

‘Which of our acquaintances have you heard from this day?’ Thomas Washington asked in an offhanded manner.

‘This is from Dianne Wilkinson. You must remember her … she was Lady Dianne Harbrow before she married very sadly beneath her.’ At this statement, Martha Washington was unable to keep the censure from her tone, but continued to impart her new knowledge. ‘She regrets to tell me that she herself is unable to attend, but is sending her father in her stead. The Earl of Athelstone will be accompanying his grandson but they both are unable to commit to a time of arrival or the duration of their stay unfortunately. Oh my but what an elegant hand she has. Come and look at the style of writing and the even the quality of paper! I simply must order something similar for the party as I am sure it would only be used by the best.’ The crisp parchment flapped loudly as she lifted it and waved it towards her husband.

‘Order what you must my dear, for I will not have it said that I denied you any such necessities.’ The fifty nine year old master of the house had spent the last one and twenty years pleasing his wife in her attempt to establish her position in society. He himself had little concern of his status, as he had inherited a large estate and bank account from his father and was more than comfortable, but the woman sitting in the same room craved a status that was unquestionable. He knew that she had only married him for his wealth, and was some ten years younger than himself, and that she had also been severely disappointed when his brother had been rewarded for services to the crown in both riches and title. After Richard was made a Lord, she had pushed for him to follow in his brother's path and use his newly acquired position to gain a similar standing but Thomas had always been much happier as a country land owner than a politician.

‘Of all of these acceptances, how fine it would be for our daughter to form an attachment with the Earl's grandson. If I have my information correct, the young man is a Viscount even now. What a grand accomplishment it would be for our Charlotte to become a Viscountess at such a young age. I do believe that would be the better marriage for her.’

‘Do not get ahead of yourself my dear, for it shall be up to Charlotte to make a choice. I would be just as happy to see her married to one of the lesser known families of our acquaintance,’ he smiled at his wife's enthusiasm for such a grand alliance. ‘Have you considered our other daughter in this affair?’

‘No, I have not. It is unrealistic to include her in any of this. We should send her away for the fortnight, that way there will be no inconvenience.’

‘That is not a wise choice, for you know that Charlotte would not be able to concentrate on this if they were separated. She would not be herself from worry and it would be cruel of you to send Mary away just now. For, if all goes to plan, their future separation will be hard enough.’

‘Yes, I suppose you are right, but I must make myself clear on how Mary should behave. I will not tolerate her embarrassing me more than her existence already does.’

‘Mrs. Washington that is cruel of you to say! You know how much I wish you would not say these things.’ Martha simply snorted unladylike in response to the rebuke not offering any more to the conversation as her thoughts swirled with possibilities.

Chapter One

September 1860

The sun shone brightly in the late morning sky over the vast lands belonging to the estate titled Mitchell Hall. The manor, situated near the village of Charing in the Ashford district of Kent, was a stately home belonging to the respected Washington family. On this day, Martha Washington and her two daughters stood waiting on the porch at the front door leading into the reception hall. Martha, attired in a grey sensible but expensive day dress stood a few feet in front of her pretty daughter Charlotte, dressed in a pale green outfit while Mary, stood a pace further behind dressed in a faded blue piece that accentuated the darkness of her hair and paleness of her complexion.

‘The good lord has smiled upon us this day my dear Charlotte,’ Martha exclaimed excitedly, as she clasped her hands together in front of her heaving chest. The sound of carriage wheels turning onto the gravelled path reached them. Mary sighed silently; she did not share her mother’s excitement. Though, God had indeed favoured the family when Mary considered the acceptances her parents had received. Her mother's invitation to spend the fortnight at their home had been sent more than three months prior and been the topic of many conversations over diner. They’d barely removed the Christmas decorations from the Hall before their mother had begun planning the event, knowing that the date would have to be after the end of the Season in town to ensure drawing the most elite of the fashionable set to their humble country estate. Mary’s wandering attention returned as she felt the gentle tug of her sister's hand smoothing a crease at the waistline of her best day dress.

‘Don’t fuss so, I’m certain they’d never notice a crease.’

‘Nonsense! If I’m to present my best then you must also.’ Charlotte answered nervously.

‘They are not coming to inspect me.’ Mary argued in a hushed whisper.

Although she and Charlotte were twins at eighteen years of age, Charlotte had grown up much quicker than Mary. As the elder twin, her sister had been burdened by more responsibility in their short life as Mary was blind and had been since her birth just two hours after Charlotte’s. Over the years, both girls had realised that Martha Washington cared less for Mary than she should because of her disappointment in producing a disabled daughter so Charlotte had stepped up to be both a mother and sister. It was no secret that Martha despised Mary for her weakness and Mary despised her mother for forcing Charlotte’s hand in such a manner. No one regretted the sacrifice more than Mary herself so when she’d heard her mother’s plans to find Charlotte a husband, Mary was both devastated and relieved. Her loving sister would find a man worthy of her and have children to adore all as she deserved, but as the plans developed it became clear that Charlotte’s happiness was not a consideration rather how the match would benefit Martha’s standing in society.

Over recent months, the family had attended many engagement parties and weddings of the local gentry daughters now they were of marrying age and although Martha had put on a pleased expression for the invitations, silently she was beside herself with rage and envy displayed in private daily when reminding the girls of how disappointed she was although with Mary it was not so much disappointment but embarrassment and shame voiced with the most hurtful of words.

Invitations had been sent to all her mother's suitable acquaintances that even after the end of the latest season were unfortunate to have to admit that their children were still not spoken for. Needless to say, only those with a great and worthy name or bank account suitable to the needs were invited and Martha had promised that by the end of the fortnight Charlotte’s future would be assured. Sadly, the qualities of a potential husband were to be measured in richness, fame and consequence in the manner Martha’s own marriage was orchestrated. Charlotte deserved so much more than the coldness of an arranged marriage. A similar thought must have crossed Charlotte’s mind as well for she reached for Mary’s hand and gave a gentle squeeze. The rumbling noise grew louder.

‘Come closer Charlotte,’ Martha instructed, Charlotte dropped Mary’s hand and obeyed.

‘Yes Mother, Sophie find the master and inform him of our guests arriving and make sure the stable hands are ready to care for the horses and carriage.’

‘Yes Miss.’ The young maid dipped a curtsy and then dashed down the stairs, holding her faded skirt above the knees as not to trip.

‘It is a very well cared for carriage Mary, must have been very expensive. All black and shiny in the sunlight and being drawn by four of the tallest greys you could ever imagine.’ Charlotte explained the scene in detail before to help Mary gain a perspective.

‘For such a show, they must be quite a prominent family I would think.’ Mary replied softly.

‘Yes I dare say it does reflect the family status but the emblem upon the door is still too far away for me to distinguish.’ Martha informed, ‘Sophie has returned and I think you would be better suited to stand back with the servants. I can't abide the thought of you being in the way!’

‘No, I’ll keep Mary out of the way.’ Charlotte’s hand clasped hers again and pulled her the few steps to her side. Martha was unable to speak further for the carriage had stopped at the steps of the porch and a stable boy dashed around the corner of the house to quickly take the reins. Thomas Washington had managed to slip into place beside his wife before the carriage door to the black landau was opened by an efficient red liveried groom. Thomas either recognised the coat of arms or the alighting occupant and extended his hand in a warm greeting. A middle aged gentleman in a black travel coat and top hat was the first to descend the few iron steps, he then turned and held a hand to help his gentile wife as the grooms and Washington house staff rushed to unload the travel trunks around them.

‘Broadfield, good of you to come.’ The two gentlemen shook hands in friendship. ‘My dear, you know Arthur Broadfield of course, may I introduce his lovely wife Marie. Mrs Broadfield, my wife Martha.’ He introduced the guests. Mary was amazed at the casualness of her father’s voice as he'd always been somewhat of a homebody, never going to town, never attending the assemblies in the village or a ball given by a neighbour.

‘A pleasure to meet you Mrs Broadfield, may I introduce my daughter Charlotte.’ The two ladies came together on the top of the porch and softly clasped hands in making a new acquaintance. Charlotte cleared her throat softly and drew her mother's attention. ‘Yes well, and my other daughter Mary.’ Both girls curtsied in politeness but spoke nothing. Martha and Marie continued inside to the reception hall, their heads bent forwards in a gently spoken conversation and the housekeeper, Mrs Meyer, helped Marie out of her grey travel coat, blue bonnet and tanned leather gloves, before the two plump ladies moved into the sitting room. The gentlemen moved up the steps more slowly, almost as though to avoid the generalities being exchanged between their wives.

‘These Broadfield, are my charming daughters, surely you remember them,’ Thomas waved fondly at the twins. For the lack of affection shown by Martha, Thomas was always happy to show extra when his wife was not paying close attention and for that small token of affection Mary was extremely grateful. She smiled in the direction of his voice.

‘They are both much grown since last time,’ Arthur said heartily, ‘This is my son, Simon.’ A younger gentleman that had not been seen until then stepped up to stand beside his father. He was as tall as the two others and dressed finely in travel clothes similar to his father.

‘Good morning Mr Washington, ladies,’ his voice was friendly but only Charlotte could see his sparkling brown eyes and jovial aged face. Again both girls bent in curtsy and waited for the three men to walk on.

Mary was not ashamed of her blindness but she was still embarrassed at the prospect of it affecting others. It takes her so much longer to walk anywhere, that the idea of having the people behind her waiting was inconceivable. Charlotte’s familiar, firm grasp took Mary’s hand, weaving it though an arm and together they walked into the house. This was but the first of many such greetings today and already Mary felt exhausted.

‘Well?’ She asked.

‘Not a face to be enamoured of,’ was Charlotte’s quiet response.

Mary could hear Mrs Meyer overseeing the staff moving the trunks upstairs to the guest bedchambers, while Mr. Stuart, their prim butler, was seeing to the quartering of the staff in the servant quarters below stairs or in the lodgings behind the stable. The reception hall was alight with commotion.

Charlotte guided Mary into the sitting room and over to her favourite cushioned chair by the bay window at the rear of the room. The view from this window looked down and out over the sunken garden. The two ladies were already seated with a cup of tea before both on the small oak table between them; the three gentlemen were standing over by the unlit fireplace waiting for their tea that Sophie was currently pouring. Mary heard the swish of skirts as Charlotte stood beside and placed her hand lovingly and somewhat protectively on her right shoulder.

‘Go, you must sit with Mother and Mrs Broadfield. If I need anything I will let you know Lottie. Go on please.’ Mary spoke quietly so no one else heard and gently pushed her away. Charlotte sighed softly and then another swish of skirts informed Mary that her sister had left. Mary settled back on her seat and paid little attention to the words being spoken. Her mind wandered freely as she imagined the scene before her.

‘Miss Mary, here is your cup.’ Sophie took one of Mary’s hands and gently guided the fingers around the fragile porcelain. The maid ensured the china was secure in her grasp before letting go.

Charlotte noticed that Marie’s gaze constantly travelled between herself and Mary and each time they rested upon her sister, her brow furrowed in curiosity so there was little doubt that the elder woman had noticed the extra care and attention Mary received but good breading perhaps forbade her from making comment. The friendly conversations continued for the next half hour before Mrs Meyer knocked on the door and announced the pending arrival of the next guest carriage. Thomas placed his empty cup on the mantle and strode purposefully out to await the carriage.

‘Forgive us momentarily Mrs Broadfield, while we greet our new guests,’ Martha excused herself and walked out onto the porch behind her husband. The twins remained in the sitting room and continued entertaining the Broadfields. Only once did Charlotte need to move, and that was to stand and walk over to Mary to remove the cup from her hand and place it back on the tea tray.

‘I can't help but notice, Miss Washington, that you all take a prestigious amount of care towards your sister. Please do not mistake me or my motives but it is very refreshing to see such devotion, it is sadly lacking in families of our acquaintance in town.’ Marie stated politely. Charlotte hesitated to respond, as the polite words did not truly match the tone used. It sounded too haughty; to judgmental but she was spared her diplomatic reply when Mary herself answered.

‘Sometimes I think she is too caring, Mrs Broadfield. Charlotte puts me above herself and it should not be that way. I am grateful though to have someone so willing to help me all the time. I was not sure if Father had spoken of me to his friends informing them of my blindness and I fear I am at everyone's mercy. I can find my way around this house and to a few places around the grounds through counting steps and touch but it is always a slow process and sometimes can be painful if there is something new in my way.’

‘We must all remember not to move things then, for fear of making it more difficult for you dear.’ Mrs Broadfield responded with false warmness. Mary had come across many reactions to her disability over the years, Charlotte had to admit it was sometimes very handy to have an extra sense when dealing with people and their reactions but where Charlotte would have questioned the falseness openly, Mary simply kept her serene smile in place. The sitting room door opened again and Martha returned leading the new guests into the comfortable room.

‘Lord Henry and Lady Elise Chambers, may I introduce Arthur Broadfield and his wife Marie and their son Simon and as well as my own daughters Charlotte here and Mary over by the window.’ The previous occupants of the sitting room all stood and bowed or curtsied to the Lord and Lady. Martha returned to her seat on the sofa and motioned for Lady Chambers to follow. Thomas walked through the door next and was closely followed by Mrs Meyer and Sophie with a fresh pot of tea. Shortly after that, each person had a new cup of the hot brew in their hands and offered sensible conversation relating to topics such as the weather, gossip from town over the Season or the comforts of the journey.

Charlotte was relatively surprised that the atmosphere did not change with the arrival of Lord and Lady Chambers; they were very much at ease amongst those that were not of the same rank in society and very adept at making others feel comfortable around them even with the formal my lord - my lady address. If there were to be more guest like them, Charlotte admitted she may actually enjoy the fortnight rather than fear it.

For the first time in a long while, Mary wished she could see what all these people looked like, not just rely on her imagination. From the conversation, she was able to gather that Lord and Lady Chambers' son William, would be joining them but was arriving with a friend that had also received an invitation. Mary had been informed of the names of the expected visitors but had not really paid attention; after all, it was not as if anyone would be paying her notice. During the rest of the afternoon, more guests arrived and joined in the various conversations going on and as the party grew, the congregation moved from the sitting room into the drawing room where there were more seats available.

The party now included a Miss Claire Simpson, a petite blonde with unusual grey eyes and a nasal tone to her voice accompanied by her doting and pretentious mother. After already enjoying four seasons in town without an offer, Glenda Simpson was at her last option. Their unfortunate finances would not extend to another as she was rather fond of informing her audience. There was also a Miss Hannah Kline, shy and undemanding but with an unfortunately jolly mother whose booming laugh rattled the cups upon their saucers. Only a few of the acceptances had yet to arrive but there was plenty of varying conversations available.

Very slowly, the large group broke away into several smaller groups with the mothers seated in the middle, the fathers at one end and the young people at the other. Mary was seated in a corner at the far end of the drawing room and she remained silent with her face towards the window. She really did not know what her role was, there was no prospect of her finding a husband as no decent man would burden himself with such an unworthy woman for a wife. Mary was well aware of her limitations in that she could not see to be useful as a hostess and her dowry was not substantial enough for a husband to willingly risk his heir being similarly disabled. Besides, her mother had given her strict orders to stay out of the way. With that thought in her mind, she stood up and counted her steps to the side door that led to the western stairwell and then onto the library. Her hand was raised in case she came across an obstacle in her path and she listened carefully to the talk around her to make sure there was no one in front of her. As she reached the door, she twisted the metal handle and quietly left the room. She hoped fervently, that if Charlotte had noticed her departure, she would stay with the guests and be the proper hostess. This was her time to shine and find her future not allow their mother to dictate that as well. Sophie found her making her way around the wall to the staircase.

‘Miss Mary, the table has been set for late lunch and the meal is about to begin, did you wish me to help you to the dining room?’ She asked in her quiet voice.

‘No, thank you Sophie. I will be down once I have freshened myself up. Just tell my sister to stay with our guests and parents, for I can surely manage this much for myself.’

‘Yes Miss,’ Sophie nodded and moved back into the drawing room to inform the master. Mary placed both hands against the wall again and felt her way around to the stairwell and then using the rail journeyed up the stairs. Her bedchamber was to the right of the stairwell on this western side of the house and once she found and opened the door, made her way to the bedstead and laid down heavily on her back. The soft feathers of the bedcover shifted in response to the unexpected weight. She paused for only a moment before realising that she needed to move for fear of not knowing if her father would hold the meal waiting for her. She quickly righted herself and changed from her warm slippers into her walking shoes, tied the laces, washed her hands and face in cold water from the pitcher on the tallboy set of draws. She fixed a pleasant smile to her face and made her way back out of her bedchamber. The easiest way to the dining room from here was to follow the main hall all the way down to the eastern stairwell which then just needed a left turn to enter the dining room. As she neared the doorway, she could hear the noisy conversations coming from within the room. The room fell silent when Mary walked in and she could feel every eye in the room staring at her. Her face drained of colour in helpless embarrassment.

Chapter Two

‘Please forgive my lateness Mother,’ Mary stammered from the doorway, she was too afraid to move not knowing which would be her seat with everyone else already in attendance. A small sound from behind gave her little warning of the person waiting.

‘Let me help you to your chair, Miss,’ an unfamiliar voice spoke. Mary jumped slightly but regained her composure as the conversations started again. A very masculine hand took hold of her elbow and moved her forward. The feel of the new hand touching her sent a pleasurable thrill searing through her body. There was the sound of a chair being pulled out of the way and then it was pushed up