"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." Lao-Tzu

----

XX.

"Our printers have worked tirelessly to ensure your first run of copies will be ready to distribute by the New Year, Miss Granger," Peter informed the excited author proudly.

As she had been during their last meeting, Miss Hattie Granger was dressed incognito as a widow, black veil and all. Her smile, however, would let anyone assume that she had loathed her husband.

"I am very confident about Mr Denham's projected sales numbers, Miss Granger," added Jack, who was casually leaning against Peter's desk. "Your book is one I would have both of my daughters read when they are old enough. I have already set one aside to purchase as a Christmas present for my wife."

Hattie clapped her hands together. "Oh, I am so pleased," she replied gleefully. "I cannot thank you gentleman enough for your encouragement and support. I never ... I never could have imagined that I would be able to find a publishing house willing to give me, as a woman, a chance."

Peter knew that with the right advertising, and money spent in the right places, plenty more women authors could be very successful, and it would be a wise decision for other publishers to be more diverse with their choices in manuscripts. There was a market out there if they were willing to look.

Jack, however, bought manuscripts on talent alone. He was building Beresford Press to be a place of opportunity, so that one day, Peter knew, he could have Jackie, or indeed Maria, work alongside him equally.

Peter couldn't help but wonder where he would be bequeathing his half of the business. Could he have his own child in the near future? Lord, if everything went to plan, he hoped so.

"You have a strong voice, Miss Granger," complimented Jack with a sincere smile. "Should this book do as well as Mr Denham predicts, then we will be very interested in what other manuscripts you have to offer. We will have the bound book sent to your address come January, and then Mr Denham will be in touch with regards to your royalty shares."

Hattie stood up from the chair opposite Peter's desk and nodded. "I am working on another manuscript," she replied.

"You shall bring it to me personally when you are finished," urged Jack.

Hattie thanked them both again, before pulling her black veil back down over her face and departing the office, leaving Peter and Jack alone.

"Jackie is clever," Jack stated confidently. "Very much so. She is terribly bright."

"Jack ... she is not yet two," Peter murmured, frowning. "I don't think you would do very well bringing her into the business just yet." He smirked.

Jack grinned. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean that whenever I read to her, she takes it all in. She listens intently, and she stares at me with her big, knowledgeable eyes. Of course, I have only been reading her children's stories ... you know, she likes Candide by Voltaire, she loved Robinson Crusoe, so that is how you know she is my child." He chuckled. "I really tested her with The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, but she did listen to that for a good twenty minutes before she fell asleep."

"Yes, they are all terrific examples of children's stories," confirmed Peter, rolling his eyes with a wry smile.

"Naturally," agreed Jack. "Which is why I think she will take in Miss Granger's story now. Oh, Peter, I cannot wait for my girls to be able to read themselves."

Peter was proud that his two nieces in Jackie and Maria would never want for education. He was confident that Jack would secure them every possible opportunity to be as educated as was allowed in this society. What would be as close to attending university would be what those girls would be provided with.

With the money he had saved since working for Jack, he knew that he would do all he could to ensure the futures of his own children. He did not think that Belle would ever object to a thorough education considering how hard she was working to learn herself.

His thoughts drifted to Belle so often throughout the days and weeks that he had been back in London. Peter's mind took him to Belle when he was sitting idly, and when he was working hard and needed to be focussed. He couldn't help it. He missed her terribly. This separation confirmed it for him. He didn't want to be parted from her. He wanted to be with her always. He could only pray that she missed him as much as he did her.

Peter could not write as much as he wanted to in the letters he sent back to Ashwood. Firstly, he did not want to overwhelm her with his feelings. And secondly, he had to be very careful with the words, and the volume of them, that he wrote. Peter sent back simple, brief letters that he knew Belle would be able to read without getting frustrated or embarrassed.

And she had kept her promise to him. He had received seven letters from Belle. One for every week he had been away. Peter had received the seventh letter that morning at breakfast and had carried it with him in his breast pocket to the publishing house so that he could pull it out and read it again.

"I cannot believe it is the end of November already," commented Jack, bringing Peter back out of his own thoughts. "Wind is biting, the sky is grey and low, weather is miserable. Nothing like England in the winter."

Peter laughed before he took a breath. "We ought to go through the invoices for the book advertising and the distribution plans for January. I will be able to correspond from Ashwood, but these payments need to be made by the fifteenth and you will need to go to the bank –"

"Peter," interrupted Jack. "If you continue to stress like this, your hair will be grey before your twenty-first birthday. We went through this yesterday. I have my instructions. You are very thorough. I certainly know I wouldn't be able to run this publishing house without you. I know when the payments need to be made, I have all the correspondence, and I will go to the bank."

In order for Peter to return to Ashwood in time for the Winter Assembly, Jack was handling all of his responsibilities leading up to the release of Miss Granger's book. Peter, of course, had organised everything that he could, and had written Jack copious amounts of notes and instructions, but he was grateful to Jack for his generous offer.

Because of this, Jack was not able to take Claire home for the ball. They would not be travelling to Ashwood now until the week before Christmas.

"Before I dragged you home with us when Maria was born, you have not taken a day off since last Christmas," continued Jack. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"For dragging you home. Had I not, then you would not be sneaking off with my wife to look at shop locations and newlywed flats." Jack smile smugly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Claire is such a gossip," hissed Peter.

"She is just excited for you. We both are."

Peter had turned to his elder sister for assistance when it came to his future plans. He intended on proposing. He was not certain when. He supposed that he would know when the moment was right. But he wanted to return to London in the new year engaged. Ideally. And if they were engaged, then he wanted to be prepared. He couldn't help himself. Peter knew that Belle dreamed of opening her own shop and seeing that he was becoming quite the savvy businessman, he had been scouting locations with his sister. He and Claire had happened to find one a few streets over that had a comfortable flat above it.

Peter needed to keep reminding himself, however, to not get too far ahead of himself. He knew that Belle could be easily overwhelmed and frightened, and he didn't want her to know any of this before the time was right.

Truthfully, he worried that the time would never be right. He worried that she wouldn't want any of this ... or him. It was difficult to gage her feelings from her letters, and he knew that was not her own fault. She was doing her best. But what he would give to speak with her. He would not have to wait very much longer.

When Jack returned to his office, Peter pulled out the letter that he had been keeping in his pocket.

Der Peter, Belle had written. Her penmanship improved with each letter she had posted. He could see how careful she was trying to be by the pressure she applied with each stroke of the pen.

I am wel.

I did so a jres for winta asemblee. I hop yoo lik it.

I wnt too see yoo hr soon.

I hop yoo ar wel.

Yor Belle.

As he read it over and over, he read between the lines. It was hard not to hope, not to get ahead of oneself when reading that. Despite it only being four lines, it had been the newsiest letter he had received from her. He couldn't imagine the time she had spent poring over that letter and trying her hardest to spell words that she had never written before.

He prayed that everything would be as it was when they were reunited. Even better than it was. Peter hoped that Belle would only grow in her confidence and trust with him, and he hoped that she would feel her safest when she was with him. It was too presumptuous to hope that she would allow him to kiss her, but Peter couldn't help but wish for that as well.

If everything went to plan, he would kiss her on the night of the ball, and if God, and fate, and everything in between, was on his side, he would propose to her as well.

***

Peter had never seen his younger brother so tense in his life. Jem looked like he was about to be sick as he stood before the mirror to make certain that his cravat was straight. Peter had certainly never seen Jem in a cravat before. Not even at any of their sisters' weddings had he deigned it necessary to don one.

But tonight, he had.

Jem combed his fingers through his dark hair, pulling at a few of his curls, before making a frustrated noise as they sprung back to where they wanted to be.

Jem was usually very cheerful, slightly mischievous and cheeky, and always was ready for fun. If it was at his elder brother's expense, then Jem was fine with that. But tonight, he didn't look like a cheeky boy. He looked like a nervous young man of seventeen, determined not to make a fool of himself.

Selfishly, watching Jem worry was a good distraction for Peter. He had arrived home that morning, and so he was yet to see Belle. She would be travelling to the ball with Grace and Adam, and so they would not be reunited until they met at the assembly hall where Peter planned on escorting her inside.

It also occurred to Peter that he still had no idea what this mystery girl of Jem's looked like. Jem, of course, had been very secretive, but Peter hadn't thought to ask around for news of any Cressie Martins ... though he never would have jeopardised Jem like that.

"My arms and legs look too long for my body," Jem complained, stretching out his arms in front of him. "I need to gain a stone for them to match. What if I trip her over?"

"So, what if you do?" Peter said encouragingly. "If she's an obliging young lady, she will not worry at all about it."

"I still don't want her thinking I'm a fool," muttered Jem half-heartedly. "I want to impress her. I want her to like me. I don't want her to see a stupid boy. I want to be a suitor."

Peter supressed an amused smile. He had definitely never seen his brother this way. "Jem, you are only seventeen. You are still a boy, really. You need not put this sort of pressure on yourself. Just be yourself. If she's a good judge of character, then she will see what a good egg you are."

"I feel like I only have one chance," replied Jem, sighing as he looked at his reflection before turning to his brother. "She'll be of age next summer. She'll be able to go to London like Susanna did ... her mother seems like the sort to do that sort of thing. Any man with half a brain would take one look at her and be lost."

Much like Jem, it seemed. "Do you actually know anything about her, save for what she looks like?" asked Peter, frowning. Jem was clearly infatuated with her appearance, but perhaps he was too immature to be making hasty decisions if he knew nothing deeper about her.

"That's what tonight is for," Jem retorted. "We'll get to know one another."

Peter would, indeed, need to keep one eye on his brother throughout the evening.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and their mother entered the bedroom. She was dressed in her best gown and looked very elegant indeed. Leaning on her cane, Mrs Denham sighed with pride. "Oh, my boys!" she cried. "How handsome you are! Peter, so dapper! And Jemmy! Oh, Jemmy, when did you grow up?"

"Mother, promise not to call me 'Jemmy' in earshot of anyone tonight," Jem begged. Before he turned to Peter and asked, "Do you think I ought to start going by 'Jeremy'? Is that not more grown up?"

Peter smirked. "I don't think I have ever uttered the name 'Jeremy' aloud until this moment. You don't even look like a Jeremy. You are Jem, I am afraid."

"You will always be my baby Jemmy!" Mrs Denham declared, making her way over to stand before Jem before looking up at him. "Even if you are taller than me, you are still my baby."

Jem pulled a face. "Get all the Jemmys out now. I will deny any relation to you if you call me that in public."

Mrs Denham laughed and pinched Jem's cheek. "What is the matter with you?"

Peter knew that he would have dropped his younger brother in it, just as Jem usually would were their roles reversed. But Peter was the gentler brother, and he knew Jem was feeling nervous. So, he decided to spare Jem instead.

"Come alone, Mother. We ought to be leaving now. We do not want to be late," he urged.

Amélie could not be convinced to attend the ball, so Peter, Jem, and Mrs Denham travelled by carriage alone to the Ashwood assembly hall. There were carriages, horses, and people everywhere, as was the tradition. People came from every neighbouring parish to attend the last ball of the year before the villages began to hibernate for winter.

When their carriage stopped, Peter opened the door and let down the step before the driver could. Grace was always so kind to send their servants to assist with the carriage, but Peter didn't like to be waited on.

He then helped his mother carefully out, before Jem followed, anxiously searching their surroundings with his eyes. Peter did the same, only he was searching for the Ashwood carriage.

"Come along, Cressie. Don't dawdle."

Peter's ears pricked up at the sound of a mother's hurrying tone, and the mention of that name. He turned around to see Jem was frozen in place as he watched a pair of women arrive without a carriage.

The elder, Mrs Martin, was a very elegantly dressed woman who walked with great pride and purpose. She was pale and delicate, and seemed to have passed on her fair looks to her daughter.

Miss Cressie Martin was certainly very beautiful, and Peter could understand Jem's infatuation. She was very fair, with light, golden hair and dainty, elfin features. She looked very young, younger than Jem, though he seemed to think that she was going to be of age by next summer, so she had to be sixteen or seventeen years old. Either way, she seemed nervous and apprehensive, just as Jem was. By the expression on her mother's face, it seemed as though they had recently quarrelled.

Peter would have wagered that Jem would have followed along after her like a puppy dog were Mrs Denham not holding on to his arm. His eyes had not left her, though Cressie had not noticed him staring.

"Here they come," announced Mrs Denham. "What good timing that was."

Sure enough, the illuminated windows of the grand Ashwood carriage could be seen travelling down the road, pulled along by four of their horses. Peter felt his stomach tighten in anticipation. Lord, it had been so long, and he had missed her so. He was anxious for even a glimpse.

The Ashwood driver slowed the horses to a stop before the footman jumped down from the rear of the carriage to open the door and let down the step. Adam climbed out of the carriage first, before assisting his mother, Grace, and finally Belle down.

Peter's breath caught in his throat when he saw her standing there, all nervousness and excitement. She was breathtaking. She had written to him that she had sewn her dress, and she was once again displaying her talents. Her dress was lilac in colour and flowed down her delicate frame in soft cascades of silk. The bodice was embellished with white roses at the shoulders, where she had gathered the silk to create elegant sleeves that appeared as though they were merely draped around her upper arms. The cool, dark skin of her décolletage was bare and beautiful, as was her face. It was free from any of the powders and pomades that women usually applied, leaving her natural beauty to exude through her excitement. Belle's curly hair was pulled back, save for a few spirals framing her face, with a ribbon that matched the colour of her dress. Her ensemble was completed with white elbow gloves, of which she was currently pinching and twisting the fingers with anticipation.

Belle's golden eyes then found him, and her smile grew even bigger. That simple act of assurance settled every one if his nerves, including the ones that had been festering over the seven weeks that he had been away. She was happy to see him, and she was excited to be here. Peter returned her smile and went to step towards her.

But as soon as he did that, his right boot caught his left, and he promptly tripped over and fell down onto the dusty road. His clumsy act caught the attention of his entire family, and Peter wanted to bang his head against the ground. Why was he born without a charming bone in his body?

"Peter, are you alright?" The question was asked by every one of his family members, but he focussed on the soft, accented voice belonging to Belle.

She had raced over to him, kneeling down on the road without a thought for her gown. "Peter, are you hurt?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Only my pride," he replied with a laugh, but he felt her hand on his cheek, and his laughing stopped. Peter looked up into her eyes and he swallowed. Lord, he hoped he would be able to kiss her tonight.

----

Hope you liked it!! I couldn't include everything I'd planned for this chapter as it was already at 3300 words ... and it's 1:30am hahaha. I guess we'll have to start 2022 off with a ... BANG!

But I gave you a lil sneak peek at my next girl, Cressie ... I adore her. Even though Jemmy doesn't know much about her, I can tell you now that he has good taste. She's a good one ;) I can't wait to write their story. It's going to be sooooo different to anything I've written and I can't wait to make my next lot of characters (and you all!) suffer :)

But I'm not done making these ones suffer. I have a history in this series of some seriously dramatic chapter 21s. I still go and read the comments of Chapter 21 in A Solemn Promise if I want a laugh. I love shocking you guys :P

This will be my last chapter for 2021! I have a busy few days coming, plus it's a heat wave! I'll be spending the next few days in the pool! 

I can't thank you all enough for your love and support this year. I've finished a book (And Earnest Favour), written a book (A Simple Deception), and started a book (A Defiant Liaison). All of which have been filled with the most amazing, beautiful comments xx. I've had two stories join the paid program (One Chance and The Secret Attachment) and I was BLOWN AWAY by your support of me and my stories through that platform. I celebrated my 10 year anniversary of being on Wattpad with a Bonus Epilogue for The Stowaway. 

And I continued our conversation through dozens of author's notes. I always say I feel like my author's notes are a conversation that we've been having for years and I just pick up where I left off with the last one hahaa.

Thank you for filling my 2021 with light. This was a very, very hard year for me personally and professionally. It's kicked my ass truthfully and I came running to you guys, running to the 1800s and feeling your love each and every time. 

May 2022 be everything you wish it to be. 

I am hoping for a year free from remote learning. A year where I'm able to be in the classroom full time with my kids. I'm hoping for a class that I love and adore just as much as my previous classes.

And hey, if I'm lucky, I wouldn't mind someone treating me nicely and realising what a freaking angel gem queen I am and treating me as such (you've got to manifest, right? I have never used those words to describe myself but I feel like if you say it, you'll eventually  believe it hahaha).

Happy New Year, friends! I'll see you in 2022 xx

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