His Chosen, for she was First

Chapter1

London

1706

Jaclyn

I gave birth to the most beautiful creature of all. My happiness now bears a name and a surname: Kathleen Hendricks. After long months of sorrow, I promised myself that I would forge ahead. Despite the sin I committed before God and the stain I cast upon the reputation of our duchy, I resolved to shed my guilt.

If God, who is love, forgives us all equally, I must no longer view myself as soiled by things of the past; life goes on. And it continued to bestow upon me the greatest of marvels: motherhood. My precious Kathleen is a total angel, fair-haired and green-eyed. She appears almost the living image of Gabriella, sharing even her energy and spark. Even I, as a child, was more solemn and withdrawn around people, but my little girl brings light wherever she stands.

Regarding the course of my pregnancy, well, I never so much as stepped outside the manor. I loathed the thought of everyone staring at me. Shame consumed me, so I did not even venture into the garden. I endured a profound, dark depression during those first months.

Everything fell upon me at once: the rupture with Nathaniel, the pregnancy, the truth coming to light, my parents’ deep indignation, and my constant desire to die. I was always the perfect daughter. The parents within our circle always cited me as the pattern to follow for my manners, values, and education. My relationship with my parents grew distant at first. Mother was the first to adapt to our circumstances; Father required a bit more time, though I could hardly fault his actions, since I alone bore the blame.

Yet now, they rejoice in their roles as grandparents; they adore my daughter, and I love them for holding me dear as they do.

My friends also rallied around me. When they discovered the truth, they did not shun me as though I carried leprosy; they remained by my side through my darkest hours, and I shall forever owe them my gratitude. My little angel addresses each of them as "Aunt," and they melt with emotion every single time they hear her.

On the day of my labor, I believed I would perish; I thought myself incapable of enduring it. It was a painful, hellish ordeal, so much so that I pray I never have to pass through it again. No one prepared me for such agony, yet everything faded into insignificance the moment I held her in my arms. I forgot that I was bringing into the world a child who would bear only my surname, a child whom society would never view with anything but the eyes of condemnation.

I was alone, and I intended to keep it that way. Though time had passed and no one spoke of my daughter or me anymore, I would never marry. I shall converse with my father so that, once my sister makes her debut in society this very season, we may depart for our country estate. I will go far away, and there I shall raise my little girl; alone, just she and I. My own family of two.

I have already settled it in my mind that it will be only the two of us and no one else. Love remains far beyond my reach—as distant as Nathaniel, who never even showed his face. He must have learned of the fruit of our intimacy, yet he never appeared. It was as though the earth swallowed him whole after that frigid letter he dispatched nearly a month after his last visit to my house, the very night we begot our daughter.

Not even his parents spoke a word to me. My fury mounted knowing they despised my little girl. They knew perfectly well that their granddaughter had been born, yet they cared not a whit. They even went so far as to tell my parents that the child did not carry their blood, claiming it was uncertain, because if I had opened my legs for their son, I could have opened them for anyone. I read that in a letter my mother kept in her bureau; she never mentioned it to me, but I read it, and nothing ever stung deeper than those words.

For if I surrendered myself to Nathaniel, it was because I loved him; because love blinded my senses, my morals, and everything else. That was why I would flee far from it all; I would raise my daughter with just the two of us. That would be best: far from this town that does nothing but judge us.

I lower the book in my hands as Gabriella enters the library, accompanied by our cousin Lisset, Meredith Caldwell, and Natasha Wilkinson. They are all laughing over something that, by the looks of it, amused them greatly. Each bestows a kiss upon my cheek, and they seat themselves around me. Today is a day for the ladies, for tomorrow marks the first ball of the social season, where my sister shall make her debut.

—Has he? And where is Kathleen? —Inquires Meredith, ever devoted to my little one.

I smile.

—She is in the garden with the governess —I pause a moment before replying.

My sister stands, capturing everyone’s attention. She holds a gown between her hands and unfolds it before us. It is a black piece, encrusted with rubies, featuring a sweetheart neckline and delicate sleeves.

—It is exquisite —Lisset opines.

—Yes, it will suit you perfectly —I concur.

—And what does the other one look like? For with that one, it appears you are attending a funeral —Natasha adds, eyeing the dark attire with disdain.

We all laugh.

Natasha—or Naty, as we call her—is the same age as my sister. At times, she is quite volatile and rather impressionable. She needs only to catch sight of a vaguely attractive gentleman to declare him, quite literally, the love of her life. Her infatuations usually endure for months, even when the gentleman in question remains entirely oblivious to her regard or has not even noticed her presence. Natasha will also debut this season; the two of them are the youngest in our circle.

Gabriella then displays the second choice, and I believe it will look divine on her. It is a pale pink design, dusted with diamonds, with sleeves reaching the elbows and a V-neckline.

—That one is the ideal choice —Naty sentences.

—I concur with her entirely —I add, and the others nod their assent.

Only Naty and Gabi remain unwed; Meredith and Lisset are already married, and both hold the title of Countess. Next, Naty displays the glamorous and pompous gown she will wear that night. We shower her with compliments, as always, and she does nothing but offer us a radiant smile.

—Have you all heard tidings of the arrival of the most eligible bachelors of this season? —Gabriella blurted out suddenly.

—Whom do you mean? —Meredith interrogates.

—Rumor has it that a prince shall attend the balls this year. —My sister’s lashes flutter with genuine enthusiasm as she speaks.

She has always dreamed of becoming a princess or a queen. I do not doubt she will achieve it, for she possesses plenty of charisma and character for the role. I am certain that any prince who lays eyes upon her will be spellbound; that is the effect she commands over all men.

I, by contrast, have always been a shadow beside her regarding physical beauty. Everyone showers her with praise, Mother included. While she is the pretty, adored child of the house, I have assumed the role of the intellectual, so to speak. I am highly skilled in the arts, particularly painting and song; furthermore, I master more than one language and find scientific discoveries fascinating. It is not that she is merely a pretty face, but I am far more cultured in that regard.

—Yes, and I also heard he travels with a duke —Naty points out.

—A duke? —asks Lisset, her curiosity palpable.