XXXII

"Find love. Find love with all of your heart. And once found, love will find you. It will break away the unbreakable, and make anew." Anthony Liccione

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XXXII.

"Peter," cooed a soft voice. "Peter, wake up. We are returned."

Peter stirred from his groggy slumber. Certainly, it was the first decent sleep that he had managed to get in what felt like a year. His eyes fluttered open. His head had been resting against the window of the carriage, and he could see the familiar grounds of the Ashwood estate passing them by as the carriage travelled swiftly towards the house.

There was frost on the grass, or a light dusting of snow. The clouds were low, and rain seemed inevitable, but Peter had never been more glad to see the miserable winter weather of Hertfordshire.

Peter's head turned back to Belle, as she was sitting beside him. He could see the warmth, the excitement, and indeed, the relief in her golden eyes. He needed to stop starring at her. Peter had made a terrible habit of it over the last five days on their journey home, but he had not been able to help it. His eyes, with a mind of their own, searched for her. And when they found her, he felt a remarkable sense of wonder. And love. Indisputably.

Peter did not think that he would ever be able to fully comprehend just how brave Belle was, the same as he was certain she would never be able to fully comprehend just how remarkable he thought she was. Though he knew more than most, he knew that there were some atrocities that Belle kept buried deep within her for her own sake and protection. For her to smile as she was, despite the suffering she had endured, kept him in awe of her. Peter was quite certain that he would spend his life trying to deserve Belle Desjardins.

"Perhaps it will be a white Christmas this year," Adam observed looking out the window.

It was hard to believe that it was only a mere two days before Christmas, and that they had all been away for over a month.

The carriage came to a stop before the grand steps of Ashwood House, and the driver and footman jumped down to open the door and let down the step. Adam climbed out first, and he assisted Belle down. Alex and Peter followed, stepping out into the chilly morning air.

Peter watched as Belle's chin lifted as she took in the sight of the great house, as though she was looking upon it for the first time. He stepped beside her, offering her his arm. "Are you glad to be home?"

"I am glad that you are with me," she replied peacefully as she threaded her arm through his.

The Duke's unannounced return quickly sent the servants into a frenzy, for usually there would be a reception planned to greet him or a member of his family. As it was not yet ten in the morning, the house was not yet fully awake.

This was a fact that did not at all bother Adam. He was quick to ascend the stairs to head towards the bedroom he shared with Grace, as was Alex when he learned that Susanna had been staying in her old room during his absence.

Peter and Belle were very quickly standing alone in the grand foyer of Ashwood House.

"It's going to be alright now, isn't it?" There was a beautiful innocence in the tone of Belle's voice as she asked the question. It was the voice of a woman who hoped, something that she would have scarce been able to do before.

"Yes," Peter promised her, as visions of the plans that he had begun making trickled back into his mind. "Everything is going to be alright now."

"Belle!"

Both Peter and Belle's heads turned towards the first-floor landing, where a woman in a white nightdress had suddenly appeared. Susanna had flown onto the landing, her golden hair still fixed in rags. Alex soon appeared behind her, wearing a bemused expression.

Peter chuckled quietly. This was obviously not the reunion that Alex had been envisioning as Susanna sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time, before she threw herself into Belle's arms, capturing her in a vice grip hug.

"Oh, thank God you are alright! We have all been so worried!" Susanna cried as she held onto Belle.

Belle returned Susanna's act of affection, and Peter did not even see her flinch. "It is so good to see you, my friend."

When Grace suddenly appeared on the landing, not quite in the state of undress that Susanna was, but closely followed by Adam and his frustrated expression, Peter openly laughed.

"Dear Belle!" Grace declared as she reached Belle and Susanna once down the stairs. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you home safe. Are you well?"

As Belle began to recount a very diluted version of events for Grace and Susanna, both Alex and Adam came to stand with Peter.

"What are you smirking at?" Alex grumbled.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," replied Peter innocently.

"Just you wait. Soon you shall be married and then your wife won't care a wit about your comings and goings," teased Adam.

Grace heard the comment, and she turned around with her hands on her hips. "Oh, dear me. I've wounded you, Adam!" she realised with a facetious smile.

"Yes, you have. Terribly so," confirmed Adam as he nodded and folded his arms across his chest.

Grace rolled her eyes as she crossed the small distance between herself and Adam, before she stood up on her toes, grabbed a hold of his lapel, and brought his face down closer to her. She then kissed his cheek, eliciting a laugh from Adam as he captured her jaw in his hand and pressed his lips down to hers softly. Grace grinned as she turned her back on Adam, only to lean back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her in such a familiar way.

Alex then cleared his throat, but Susanna pretended not to hear him.

Peter watched as an expression of pure amusement spread across Belle's face. He was not at all certain about what he had expected from Belle upon returning home, but this silly antics by the husbands who had missed their wives were just the ticket. It wasn't serious. It wasn't demanding. It didn't frighten her. It was just that: silly.

When Susanna did not go to Alex, his long legs marched towards her in three strides before he collected her in his strong arms. Susanna squealed as Alex spun her around and Belle laughed at the sight.

Adam had jokingly made the comment, but Peter knew he was right. Soon he would be married. Just as soon as the time was right to ask Belle.

***

Belle's return had set the gossip mongers within the Ashwood parish positively ablaze. The popularity of the story, and Belle's sudden celebrity, had made the gossips quite forget that they had once discarded Belle's value because of her race.

Though she still could not read the newspapers properly, her name seemed to be all over the papers that Adam had delivered from London, even a week after returning home. She was still learning, but seeing her name splashed about as it was made her feel a little relieved that she could not be tempted to read what they were saying about her.

As Belle sat down to breakfast beside Adam, his newspaper was open and raised in front of his face. Once again, she saw the bold headline which contained her name.

JEAN LECLERC HANGED. BELLE DESJARDINS VINDICATED.

She was not sure of the other words but did not doubt that they were speaking of her kidnapping, the trial, or about what had happened to her. The journalists that had been inside the hall had been fuelling the gossip that was being spread about her. She supposed there was some grace in the fact that their stories were sympathetic and blameless towards her, but it still made it terribly difficult to even want to step foot into the Ashwood village.

When Adam heard Belle's chair being pulled out by a footman, he lowered his newspaper and greeted her with a smile. He folded the paper in half and stowed it on the table as he speared a piece of ham with his fork.

"Good morning, Belle," he greeted.

Before Belle could even return his sentiment, there was a knock on the dining room door as Mr Cole entered.

"Pardon me, Your Grace. Mr Denham has arrived. Shall I direct him to your study?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Cole." Adam quickly drained the rest of his tea and popped an entire boiled egg in his mouth as he rose from his chair.

The Mr Denham in question was Jem, and not Peter. She had learned that after Christmas dinner, Jem had asked Adam for some advice in how to rise up in the world. He had finished his education but had not the means to attend university. Jem was a proud and determined young man, and would not accept what he had not earned, which was why he had refused Adam's proposal to fund his higher education. Instead, Adam had taken on Jem as his steward.

Peter had later explained this role to Belle and had told her that it was a job well suited to second sons of the lower to middle classes. To be taken on as the right hand of a gentleman was a great honour indeed, and one could rise up to manage great estates. Peter had observed to Belle that he had seen a want of maturity in Jem for the first time. He had always been youthful and energetic, but he seemed determined to make something of himself. Peter was his kindred spirit in that respect.

"I do apologise, Belle. Do excuse me," Adam said apologetically.

"Not at all." Belle shook her head, smiling.

And with that, the duke departed, and Belle was alone in the dining room. She helped herself to an egg, some ham, cheese, and bread, all the while watching the folded newspaper out of the corner of her eye. When she had buttered her bread, her curiosity could no longer be suppressed.

Belle unfolded the newspaper and was quite confronted by the image below the headline that bore her name. It was of a man, a large man, standing on the gallows with a noose around his neck. The artist had captured his evil eyes well as Belle traced two other words in the headline with her index finger. J. Jean.

The third? "H ... ha ..." she whispered under her breath, before the picture made it clear. "Hanged."

Jean had been hanged. The execution had taken place. He was dead. What followed this realisation was an immediate feeling of relief, which Belle prayed was not some terrible sin. To be relieved at the news of a man's death seemed horrid, but certainly God could understand. An unwitting tear rolled down Belle's cheek as she folded the newspaper over and tossed it onto the floor. She would feel bad for creating something for the footmen to pick up, but that was where she felt Jean's likeness belonged.

As she made the conscious decision that this would be the last time she would ever voluntarily think of Jean Leclerc, she wondered how possible such a commitment would be in a little village like Ashwood. She had only been into the village once since returning, and that was to attend church for the Christmas service.

She could not blame the parishioners for their curiosity, but some of their questions were tactless and overly familiar. Belle did not think that it would ever be possible to once again sit at her little table in Mr Andrews' shop and sew buttons for the villagers.

But that was all she wanted to do. After everything she had been through, all she wanted to do was to do something that she enjoyed.

There was another knock on the dining room door then to interrupt her thoughts, and Mr Cole entered once more. This time, his eyes were for her.

"Pardon me, Miss Desjardins, but Mr Denham has arrived." Mr Cole suddenly paused. "That is, er, your Mr Denham," he corrected himself.

A smile spread across Belle's face. Her Mr Denham indeed.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Two chapters in one weekend!

I sincerely hope you are all safe in the world. 0.118% of my readers are from Ukraine so I hope you and your families are okay!! I'm honestly in disbelief about what is happening in the world and how this can still happen in 2022.

I don't care if it's a small percentage, I care about every single one of you.

Xxxxxx