Heaven, she thought. Giles and the love they shared was her idea of heaven. And to think she had been afraid to love him. Thought him incapable of loving her.
She had been wrong about him and about their future together. Juliet sighed as she wondered if anyone had ever been happier about being so wrong. She moved her head to rest against his chest, the key she wore around her neck tucked between her breasts as his heartbeat filled her ear.
Juliet smiled, her heart full of joy. “Giles?”
“Yes.”
“I love you,” she said, her tone full of tenderness.
He stroked his hand up and down the bare skin of her back. “I love you, too, darling.”
And she knew it to be true.
Against all the odds, Giles had turned out to be her perfect match. And soon, they would welcome their babe to the world. Juliet had never felt so complete. So utterly whole and loved.
It seemed fate knew what she was doing, after all.
A note from Amanda
I have often heard it said that Christmas Trees were not in England during the Regency era. Leastwise, they were not a common occurrence. But that is poppycock!
The Regency era started in February 1811 and lasted until January of 1820. The Christmas tree was introduced to England, as a matter of record, during the Christmas season of 1800.
For the Christmas party, her majesty, Queen Charlotte hosted in 1800, she had a Yew tree potted and brought into Queen’s Lodge. The queen had decorated the tree with sweetmeats, almonds and raisons in paper, toys and fruit, along with small wax candles. It was to be a special surprise for the children of the principle families in Windsor. And by all accounts, they were delighted.
As a result, Christmas trees became all the rage among upper class English families. A variety of trees were used for the purpose: box-trees, yews, pines, and furs among them, but one thing remained consistent: They were all lit with small candles and decorated with treats and other trinkets. It was also common to find a Regency Christmas tree with presents piled beneath its branches.
There are accounts of lords, earls, and dukes having Christmas trees in their homes as early as 1802 when George, second lord Kenyon, bought ‘candles for his tree’ that he erected in his drawing room at 35 Lincoln’s Inn Field, London.
And by the time of Queen Charlotte’s death in 1818, the tradition of having a Christmas tree was firmly rooted in English society.
It was while I was researching the history of Christmas trees in England that the idea of having Juliet surprise Giles with a bedecked tree came to me. Like Queen Charlotte, the fictional Juliet wanted to wow Giles and make their first Christmas together one to remember and cherish always.
I hope that you have enjoyed Juliet and Giles’s love story. If you would like to spend more time in their world, book one in the Fated for a Rogue series is available now! Pick up your copy of A Wallflower’s Folly and read Olivia and the Duke of Thorne’s story today.
About Amanda Mariel
USA Today Bestselling, Amazon All-Star author Amanda Mariel dreams of days gone by when life moved at a slower pace. She enjoys taking pen to paper and exploring historical time periods through her imagination and the written word. When she is not writing she can be found reading, crocheting, traveling, practicing her photography skills, or spending time with her family.
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The Courtship Caper
by Beverley Oakley
The Courtship Caper is part of Beverley Oakley’s Scandalous Miss Brightwells series about wicked and lively Fanny and Antoinette Brightwell who have made spectacular marriages—despite scandals and the treachery of a disappointed suitor determined to besmirch their reputations.
Now, with the Christmas season upon them and a houseful of so-far dreary guests on the invitation list, the sisters engage in some creative matchmaking to unite two fiercely beating – mismatched – hearts.
For their own entertainment, of course!
Chapter 1
Fanny bent over her needlework, pretending to concentrate, while out of the corner of her eye she watched her restless sister with foreboding.
Antoinette was staring out of the window with the kind of look that past experience suggested would bring trouble. The ingenuous blue eyes and cherubic features framed by errant tendrils of golden hair, might have given the impression that her sister was the most innocent of creatures who lived to please.
Nothing could be farther from the truth.
And right now, Antoinette was, herself, far from pleased.
Fanny took a breath before trying for something lighthearted and bolstering that might defuse her sister’s mood. “If Lady Indigo is really as deadly dull as you say she is, she’ll be snoring into her soup, and you can flit away and do as you please before eight every evening. And, as she’ll be bringing along her companion, that drab little thing we met at Stockton, I’m sure you won’t be required to entertain Lady Indigo entirely.”
Antoinette looked over her shoulder with a sigh. “But what if she wants to play cards? Quamby will encourage her; I know he will. He’s got no diversions at the moment, and he wants me to share in his boredom.”
Fanny struggled to garner the required sympathy in response to her sister’s look of desperation. “Poor Antoinette, you’re at a loose end, aren’t you?” She had suspected for some time that her sister’s low spirits were due to the defection of her latest lover. The marriage of Antoinette and her husband, Lord Quamby, had been contracted to legitimize Antoinette’s child which would, conveniently, provide the earl with an heir.
Though husband and wife were fond of one another, the aged earl was generally absent enjoying his peccadilloes, leaving Antoinette to find her pleasure where she chose.
Antoinette sighed again. “And, if she’s not wanting to play cards, you know that Lady Indigo will want to talk of her nephew. She’ll expect me to sympathise over his death. I’ll have to bite my tongue so I don’t remind her it was his own stupid fault he died falling from Mrs Compton’s balcony after her husband caught them.” Antoinette made a noise of frustration. “And Fanny, you know that pretending sympathy is not one of my strong suits.”
“Indeed, it is not. Nor do I think you will have to exercise it since I hardly think Lady Indigo will want reminding of her nephew’s death. Certainly, not the circumstances surrounding it. Oh! I know!” Clapping her hands, she said with sudden inspiration, “Talk of Mrs Compton has brought to mind that ill-used gentleman, Mr Sebastian Wells. Why not invite him here for a visit to coincide with Lady Indigo’s stay? He’s just come to the end of his mourning period and, as you know, he and Fenton share a godmother. You did think him very handsome, as you confided to me after the fireworks several summers ago, though he was married at the time, of course.”