Married By May

Married By May
Nadine Millard
 


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
Epilogue
The Hidden Prince Sneak Peek
 


This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Nadine Millard
Ebook Edition All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.


Prologue
“Another successful ball, my dear.”
Lady Beatrice Fortescue smiled at her mother as they made their way upstairs, arms linked together.
“Yes indeed, Mama,” she agreed. “And made so much better by the presence of Ben and Talia.”
Beatrice’s cousin Ben, the Earl of Trafford, and her best friend Natalia had married at her mother’s famed annual Christmas Ball just two years prior.
After living for a time in Russia, they had returned in time for this year’s ball with the news that they were remaining in England, and that they were expecting a child.
Given that Ben was like a son to Lady Fortescue and therefore like a brother to Bea, and that Talia had been her best friend since childhood, Bea could not be more excited by the idea of becoming an aunt to their child when the time came.
“Oh, what a thrill to have them here,” Lady Fortescue agreed. “And the news of their blessing is just wonderful.”
They had reached the landing of the family chambers, and Beatrice was looking forward to removing her restrictive gown and lying against her satin pillows. The ball had been exhilarating as it always was, but the stays she wore to contain her curvaceous figure were biting into her skin, and the white satin slippers upon her feet pinched her toes.
“Well, goodnight, Mama,” she said with a quick peck to her mother’s ageing cheek.
“Beatrice.”
She hadn’t gone but a couple of steps before Lady Fortescue called her back.
“Yes, Mama?”
“I spoke to Ben this evening about coming with us to London for the beginning of the Season.”
Bea’s stomach dropped to her toes.
It wasn’t even January yet, but she knew exactly where Mama was going with this particular conversation.
“He doesn’t want to be away from Natalia for long, preferring to stay close to home for the birth.”
Lady Fortescue didn’t sound all too impressed by Ben’s wanting to be with his much-adored wife for her lying-in and for the beginning of his child’s life. Still, times had been different when Mama was enceinte, Beatrice supposed. And Ben wasn’t a typical Society husband who left his wife to her own devices.
“So, we don’t have much time with him this year. And whilst I know we will do perfectly well without him, it would be so much better to have him there to escort you to events. Therefore, you must do your best to secure a match in the first few weeks.”
Beatrice felt her mouth pop open, though she shouldn’t be surprised by her mother's words.
“Mama, I can’t just catch a husband in a couple of weeks,” she insisted, though she knew it was no use. For three years her mother had been desperate to make Beatrice an Incomparable of the ton.
And for three years Beatrice had carried her mother’s disappointment like a weight on her shoulders. But she simply didn’t have the makings of an Incomparable.
She was short and curvaceous, with non-descript brown hair, and plain hazel eyes. She was also far too shy to make herself known anywhere. Nor did she want to.
“Of course you can, dearest,” Lady Fortescue said stoutly. She was a kind and generous mother, but her expectations of her only child were far too ambitious to Beatrice’s mind. “You just need to do exactly what I tell you. Act how I tell you. Say what I tell you. We have five months, Beatrice. Five months to whip you into shape. I am determined that this year you will leave London, if not married, then at least engaged to an extremely desirable man.”
Beatrice resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
She didn’t want a husband. She had almost reached her majority, meaning she could access her inheritance and live a very comfortable life. She could stay here if she wanted to. Or she could choose to live elsewhere. She could avoid Town forever more, which was undeniably appealing.
More importantly though, she could do as she’d promised Reverend Altmont in previous conversations. She could fund a school for the local children and set up a charitable endeavour for the poorest members of their society. It had always been a dream of hers to be able to help in a real way and soon, she would be able to do just that. A husband was the last thing on her mind.
“Mama – I don’t need a husband,” Beatrice answered Lady Fortescue, struggling to keep her tone even.
Without another word, she turned toward her bedchamber.
“Actually, darling,” Lady Fortescue’s voice drew Beatrice to a stop. “You do.”
 


Chapter One
Five months, as it turned out, was not a very long time at all. Or four to be precise.
Either way, Beatrice was now hiding in the gardener’s shed of all places, desperately seeking a break from Mama. Lady Fortescue had always been rather zealous about the Season and ton events. It hadn’t been so bad before Ben and Talia had married. Natalia had created such a stir wherever they went that Beatrice, curvaceous, non-descript Beatrice, was able to slink into the background. Which was exactly how she preferred it. And it appeased Mama to know that Beatrice was at least part of a group, even if she were on the periphery.
Beatrice went to all the right events, of course. She was, after all, the only