Forever My Love (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Historical, Adult, Action, England, Georgia, Courage, destiny, conspiracy, guardian, 18th Century, revolutionary war, american revolution, finishing school, savannah, Cherish, FOREVER MY LOVE, British Nobleman, Fiery Winds, Georgia Plantation, Wanton Ward
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was calm for most of the way. I suppose I was not in a mind to enjoy the voyage with the enthusiasm Aunt Arabella tried to arouse in me. I remained in my cabin most of the time, and poor Aunt Arabella thought I was seasick, when in truth I was homesick.
March 1775
Royal glanced out the window of the rumbling coach. The emerald-green glories of spring were complemented by a deep blue sky. The English countryside was so lovely it reminded her of a painting from some master artist's palette. The landscape was dotted with colorful wildflowers, while rolling hills gradually gave way to a small hamlet with thatch-roofed houses and cobblestone streets.
As Damon had promised, his London solicitor, Rupert Webber, had met Royal and her aunt when they docked at Plymouth. With him in command, the journey to London had thus far been trouble free. They now traveled aboard his well-sprung private coach, which was pulled by six matching grays.
"Are you not fatigued, dearest?" Arabella asked, noting the heightened color in Royal's face. "The voyage has drained me, and the bustling crowds we encountered at the docks were unnerving to say the least."
"I am not at all tired, Aunt Arabella," Royal assured her. "I find the journey invigorating. Papa often told me about the beauty of the English countryside, and now I am seeing it for myself."
Mr. Webber nodded. "The exuberance of youth. Would that I could work up such enthusiasm over anything, Miss Bradford."
Royal turned her attention to the slightly built man whose powdered wig was a bit askew on his balding head. She glanced quickly out the window, fearing she would laugh if she looked at her aunt.
"Miss Bradford," the solicitor continued, "I trust you won't find it too difficult to adjust to our way of life. Everything in England is steeped in customs and traditions."
Her expression became serious. "My country is still so new. We are searching for direction."
He turned inquiring eyes on her. "Your country? My dear Miss Bradford, I was not aware that the colony of Georgia was a separate country from Britain."
"No, of course it isn't. It's just that England is so far away from Georgia that it's sometimes difficult to think of ourselves as your colony."
The solicitor burst into jovial laughter. "It's just such thinking that troubles many members of Parliament." Then, more seriously, he added, "Guard your tongue well, Miss Bradford, or you will be singled out to your disadvantage at Fulham School." The warning was issued in all sincerity, which gave Royal pause for thought.
Arabella had been listening to the exchange, and she now addressed Mr. Webber. "My niece has always been encouraged to speak her mind, and I hope she will continue to do so, no matter whom it offends."
The little man smiled, and his whole face creased into laugh lines. "Since Mr. Routhland has requested that I look after your niece's interests, I would be derelict in my duties if I did not point out the pitfalls awaiting her at Fulham School. I have to tell you that pressure was brought to bear to get her into the school as it was."
"Why is that?" Arabella asked. "My sister-in-law went there. I don't recall that she had any trouble getting in."
"This school is very prestigious. Some mothers enroll their daughters at birth to make certain that they will be accepted. Most of the pupils come from the nobility or upper classes."
"I won't tolerate any unkindness to Royal. And I take exception with anyone who thinks my niece is not good enough to be in that school," Arabella said haughtily.
"Rightly so, rightly so," Mr. Webber agreed. He held Royal's gaze. "When I called Mrs. Fortescue's attention to the fact that your mother had attended Fulham, she was more receptive to your enrollment."
Royal glanced out the window, wondering how she would ever feel at home in this country where people were separated into classes. Her footsteps had been set upon a path that was not of her making; however, she would try to
March 1775
Royal glanced out the window of the rumbling coach. The emerald-green glories of spring were complemented by a deep blue sky. The English countryside was so lovely it reminded her of a painting from some master artist's palette. The landscape was dotted with colorful wildflowers, while rolling hills gradually gave way to a small hamlet with thatch-roofed houses and cobblestone streets.
As Damon had promised, his London solicitor, Rupert Webber, had met Royal and her aunt when they docked at Plymouth. With him in command, the journey to London had thus far been trouble free. They now traveled aboard his well-sprung private coach, which was pulled by six matching grays.
"Are you not fatigued, dearest?" Arabella asked, noting the heightened color in Royal's face. "The voyage has drained me, and the bustling crowds we encountered at the docks were unnerving to say the least."
"I am not at all tired, Aunt Arabella," Royal assured her. "I find the journey invigorating. Papa often told me about the beauty of the English countryside, and now I am seeing it for myself."
Mr. Webber nodded. "The exuberance of youth. Would that I could work up such enthusiasm over anything, Miss Bradford."
Royal turned her attention to the slightly built man whose powdered wig was a bit askew on his balding head. She glanced quickly out the window, fearing she would laugh if she looked at her aunt.
"Miss Bradford," the solicitor continued, "I trust you won't find it too difficult to adjust to our way of life. Everything in England is steeped in customs and traditions."
Her expression became serious. "My country is still so new. We are searching for direction."
He turned inquiring eyes on her. "Your country? My dear Miss Bradford, I was not aware that the colony of Georgia was a separate country from Britain."
"No, of course it isn't. It's just that England is so far away from Georgia that it's sometimes difficult to think of ourselves as your colony."
The solicitor burst into jovial laughter. "It's just such thinking that troubles many members of Parliament." Then, more seriously, he added, "Guard your tongue well, Miss Bradford, or you will be singled out to your disadvantage at Fulham School." The warning was issued in all sincerity, which gave Royal pause for thought.
Arabella had been listening to the exchange, and she now addressed Mr. Webber. "My niece has always been encouraged to speak her mind, and I hope she will continue to do so, no matter whom it offends."
The little man smiled, and his whole face creased into laugh lines. "Since Mr. Routhland has requested that I look after your niece's interests, I would be derelict in my duties if I did not point out the pitfalls awaiting her at Fulham School. I have to tell you that pressure was brought to bear to get her into the school as it was."
"Why is that?" Arabella asked. "My sister-in-law went there. I don't recall that she had any trouble getting in."
"This school is very prestigious. Some mothers enroll their daughters at birth to make certain that they will be accepted. Most of the pupils come from the nobility or upper classes."
"I won't tolerate any unkindness to Royal. And I take exception with anyone who thinks my niece is not good enough to be in that school," Arabella said haughtily.
"Rightly so, rightly so," Mr. Webber agreed. He held Royal's gaze. "When I called Mrs. Fortescue's attention to the fact that your mother had attended Fulham, she was more receptive to your enrollment."
Royal glanced out the window, wondering how she would ever feel at home in this country where people were separated into classes. Her footsteps had been set upon a path that was not of her making; however, she would try to
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