Bound To Bea

By LeeleeKez

89.1K 7.4K 387

"No respect for the dead." His words came out in silent whispers, his teeth clenched. A small smile tugged on... More

Copyright
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
Plagiarism concern-update
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Radish update
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Three
Epilogue

Chapter Thirty One

1.2K 124 12
By LeeleeKez

"What do you mean?" Noah gawked at Penelope, his face paling and brows knitting in the same manner Oliver's did every time he was hit with disconcerting news.

Even now, as she stared at Noah, she was reminded of the man she loved; the man her love had ruined, for it was her fault Oliver was dead, wasn't it? Her greed had killed him and she had let another woman suffer the blame for it.

Shame constricted her lungs as she rose to her feet and turned from Noah. She clasped her hands before her.

"A year ago, Oliver and I met at my aunt's funeral," she began, compelled by her guilt to speak the truth. What was the point of sitting on the truth, anyway? If she was to be banished to France, she supposed Noah deserved to know everything before she left.

"An odd place to find love, is it not? I should have known it was a bad sign—I should have walked away from him that evening when he followed me out to the garden. But I didn't. I sat there, laughing at his most ridiculous jokes while the rest of my family mourned the death of an aunt who had been so dear," she said, images of Oliver assaulting her. She remembered what it had felt like to be in his presence and to drown in the soothing sound of his voice, and a month later, when fate brought them together again in a ball, it was impossible to forget what it felt like to be in his arms.

"We formed the most unusual friendship in the most unusual circumstance, and we certainly fell in love in the most unusual way. I gave him everything; my heart, my love, and especially my chastity. And in return, he promised me the world. But it was all for nothing because several weeks later, I found out he was marrying another woman."

"Beatrice."

She nodded. "My entire world came crashing down with the news. It was an indescribable feeling of betrayal, anger, and bitterness. But not hatred; never hatred. I could never hate Oliver, even after what he did—even after his marriage to another woman. And when he returned one evening, on his knees, begging for my forgiveness, my love was there to accept him again... even if it meant I was always going to be the mistress."

Silence followed her words, and while she neither heard nor saw Noah, she felt his presence behind her, judging her for her actions.

"We kept it a secret for as long as we could, until—" she sighed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tightened her grip on her trembling fingers.

"—until the evening he died," Noah finished, his words laced with accusation. He blamed her, and she knew he was right to blame her.

She nodded once again, choking back a sob. "The butler had seen him sneak into my room through the window," she whispered, haunted by the memory of that fateful evening. "He must have thought Oliver was a burglar, for he barged into my room. Oliver tried to get away, but the butler wouldn't let him. The two got into a scuffle and... and..." She tore her lips apart, breathless.

Something touched her trembling shoulders, and certain her knees would give out beneath her, she followed Noah's lead to the chaise and perched on the edge.

He knelt before her. "What happened, Penelope?" he asked quietly, tipping her chin until she was staring into his eyes. Weary lines ran across his forehead, denting his handsome features.

"It was an accident." She forced the words out of her lips.

"What was?"

She swallowed, suddenly afraid to reveal the events of that evening.

"What accident, my lady?" Noah urged.

Letting out a nervous breath, she said, "Oliver would never willfully harm another human being. When he pushed the butler out the window, it was..." she whimpered, shaking her head.

Noah pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. Surprised, yet thankful for his benevolence, she took it and dabbed her teary face as her heart pounded dangerously in her chest.

Noah remained kneeling before her as she fought to regain control of her emotions. He reminded her of Oliver, she thought, staring at him. The resemblance was striking, and it was for this resemblance she had agreed to his proposal. At the time, she thought she could learn to love him, for he possessed the face of the man she had loved. But the more time she spent with Noah, the more apparent it became that she could never love another man like she loved Oliver—like she still loved Oliver. Even in death, he possessed her heart.

"Then what happened?" he asked once she had subdued her tears.

"My father appeared, but by then, Oliver had escaped. I heard of his suicide the next morning." She shook her head in a useless attempt at ridding herself of the guilt that weakened her limbs. "To salvage the situation and save my reputation, Father arranged for the butler's death to look like an accident, for the truth would have exposed me to the scorn of society."

"In your attempt to save yourself, you let an innocent woman be blamed for the death of a vile man," he accused, his eyes reddened with rage.

Penelope opened her mouth to say she was given no choice; she was threatened into silence, for her father would never have stood for such shame to be brought upon his family. But she said nothing. She deserved to be blamed for everything that happened; for the death of their butler, the death of Oliver, and the pain of Lady Atkins. Her greed and unwillingness to reject the advances of a married man had ruined the life of others.

Noah released her and rose to his feet. "I shall make the announcement of our broken engagement immediately," he said, and she understood what he meant; he didn't care what the announcement would do to her or her reputation. He thought she deserved to be shamed.

Nodding her agreement, she didn't give into her grief until she watched him disappear through the door. She buried her face in her hands and wept.

*

Nervous as the carriage slowed, Beatrice let out a soft sigh at the thought of seeing the dowager again after several days. The last time she saw her was the evening of the ball, before Noah's proposal and their spontaneous trip to Switzerland. She imagined she had a lot of explaining to do, and even more so, a lot of yelling to endure.

The butler escorted her into the building and left her alone in the drawing room for several minutes until the sound of approaching footsteps alerted her to someone's presence.

Heaving when she failed to hear the dowager's walking stick, she shifted her attention to the door and waited to see who it was.

The duke!

"Your Grace!" she gasped, springing to her feet. What was worse than the dowager's absence was the duke's presence, she thought, horrified as she stared at him.

"You have been away," he said sharply, anger lacing every word as he frowned down at her.

"You must forgive me—"

"I do not wish for an apology, my lady, only an explanation! I left the care of my entire household—my mother—in your hands and you disappeared! Vanished! From all of London!" he half-yelled, throwing his arms in the air. And in that second, Beatrice saw not only his rage but the fear that lurked behind his eyes.

He had looked for her! He cared enough to go around town in search of her.

The realization stunned her into silence, and the guilt she felt made it nearly impossible to breathe as she stepped forward and touched his arm.

"I shall beg for your forgiveness nonetheless, Your Grace," she said.

Silence stood between them for several seconds as he held her gaze.

"Don't," he murmured, grazing her cheek with his thumb. "Never do that again." He lowered his head, his warm lips grazing her cheek, so close to her lips that a slight movement of her head would have sealed the deal.

"Your Grace." She pressed her palms to his chest, gently pushing him back. It was apparent he had feelings for her, but she also knew it wouldn't do to encourage those feelings because she was married, even if her marriage to Noah was to remain a secret for a short while.

"Do not push me away, my lady," he begged, maintaining his position before her.

"I shall not mislead you."

"Perhaps I wish to be misled?" He touched her face, leaning his forehead against hers as he held her gaze. "I could not forget you. Far away in Devonshire and I could not rid my mind of you."

"You are smitten," she urged him to see the silliness of his feelings.

"Beyond smitten," he murmured warmly against her lips.

"You wished to know of my whereabouts these past few weeks."

"It is of no relevance, for you're here now."

"I must beg to differ, Your Grace," she said, knowing he needed to know the truth. "I have recently remarried."

He took in a sharp breath and jumped back, his face reddening like one who had just been struck.

"That is why I was away." She clasped her hands before her and waited for his response. Still, he said nothing. He stood there, gawking at her. "I came back to take my position by the dowager's side until the news of my marriage can be announced, but I'm afraid I can no longer stay here."

"But—" he began, but she shook her head, silencing him.

"It is unfair to you and to the dowager, who shall without doubt be displeased by my return. I shall take your leave now, Your Grace."

He tore his lips open, closing it once more. He nodded.

"Goodbye." Beatrice turned from him, her heart sinking as she made her way out the door. She was saddened by the thought of breaking his heart, for he was a good man. It was only her inability to return his affection that was unfortunate.

She returned to Oliver's house, deciding to remain situated there until her marriage to Noah was announced and they could live together as man and wife. She would, of course, need to write a letter to Noah informing him of the change of plans for her living situation.

Collapsing against her pillow, she closed her eyes, dreading the idea of telling Noah. There was no doubt in her mind Noah would be curious to know what changed her mind about keeping her employment as the dowager's companion, and while she wanted nothing more than to conceal the truth from him, she did not wish to build her marriage on a foundation of lies. She would be compelled to tell Noah about the duke.

Even as the thought of Noah ran through her mind, her body warmed with it. She relived their time together in Switzerland, trapped in each other's arms as they partook of one another's body and love. She missed him; she longed to fall asleep in his arms, their bodies joined and his arms around her. She ached for his sweet kisses and his intense gaze that could set her entire body ablaze. What she wouldn't give to comb her fingers through his hair as he groaned his appreciation.

She loved him, she thought, smiling. There was not an inch of him she wasn't in love with and she desired for him to be here so she could show him just how much she loved him. But fate was keeping them apart...

Only for a while, she silently reminded herself, closing her eyes. They would be apart for a while, then she could be with her husband.

She fell asleep, giving into the sweet dream that was her husband for a short while, until a strange feeling of foreboding awakened her. She opened her eyes, a loud cry tearing from her lungs as she stared into the eyes of her worst nightmare.

*

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