Few days past since the dissolution of her contracted marriage. It was also been three days since she last saw the man who had served as a host for her grand counter attack plan, and whom had taken away her innocence.
Lady Francesca hadn’t waited for Lord Syford to wake up and left, running back into the palace. There she was being confronted by the prideful man, who later ended things between them, ignoring Duchess Carlotta’s plea for swallowing the shame and continue with the wedding.
Since then, the August’s woman had rarely got out her room as if losing the will to live. Perhaps, she was having a deep remorseful moment for the grand plan she set out all these years ended up turning into dust.
That’s the thing with living up one’s life plotting against neighbors that one often overlooks to find a purpose for self-growth and improvement for themselves.
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“Lady Francesca aren’t you sick of the uncalled attention you got from the ton?” “Certainly not Lord Syford. I am the duke’s daughter and no scandal can ever take that from me, not even my stepmother. Perks of having a royal bone rank in the my corset, they say.” “Then, I might as well cause one of the upcoming scandals of yours,” he responded before shutting her cherry ripe parted lips with his. Both hot, burning in passion. They were in the prince regent’s royal garden. In any minute, one could have barge in and witness the infamous lady’s scandal. But, Francesca couldn’t think less, than the man ravishing her, and the hidden agenda she got under her sleeves.
The butlers were banging heads with the headstrong, obstreperous media trying to break through the duke’s house early in the morning. The head matron immediately ran towards the master’s bedroom to notify the sleeping duke and his second wife about the unexpected ruckus outside. Upon hearing the thrice knocks on the door, Duchess Chandler pulled the string on her side, ringing the small metal bell connected outside. Sussana got her cue to gingerly turn the doorknob and reveal herself to the masters. Catching her breath, she held on her rather shabby skirt for support. The years must have weaken her knees and youthful vigor. Gone are the old days of strength and agility.
A moon passed, however, Duke Landon’s atonement punishment to his only daughter persisted. Young Lady Francesca was still barred to attend any social gatherings of any sort. She was kept inside the duke’s manor as an ultimatum for all the scandals she’d stirred; and was only allowed to wander on the nearby cotton farm. Bearable at first, it was, not until the birthday night of Prince Regent George IV of England arrived. It was noted to be the most highly awaited and anticipated event year round, and it would be a great loss to not attend. “Father, you can’t be serious of leaving your princess here in our castle when I could be at the palace dancing on my feet and having good time with my friends,” Lady Francesca reasoned out but to no avail. The duke’s
A week had passed since the grand ball at the St. James Palace and the duke’s health began to worsen. Duke Landon’s body is starting to fail and reject the medication their family physician was giving him. His breath was starting to weaken as the struggle for air was becoming more and more difficult than it usually is. Pneumonia had been a part of his life for almost three years now. Typically, normal people recover from this withing 1-3 weeks of proper medication, however, it was not the case for the duke, who from his childbirth, had had a frail body and weak immunity. Not being able to cure the illness in its earliest stage, it manifested throughout the years, causing minor troubles of chest pain, difficulty of breathing, and someti
Just as how the sun rises from the east and sets to the west, the grieving moment of Feladencia Dukedom ended after few months. However, for the left daughter of the noble duke, the sorrow and grief will always be a part of who she is. Both the loss of her beloved mother and father will always have a scar on her bitter heart. Lady Francesca woke up early morning as the six o’clock bell of the cathedral resounds, marking the incantation of the Angelus Prayer. As she was not as a religious person as her mother, she sat silently on her bed, mind flying elsewhere, even she could hardly identify where. She just waited for the bell to end before finally getting up off her Georgian inscribed bed. 
The old Lady Margaret embraced the young heir of Felandencia Dukedom as its carriage reached the frontal gate of her mediocre abode. The butlers carried Lady Francesca’s luggage inside with the aid of Lady Maragret’s footman. “What a great pleasure you are here, young maiden? I am sorry about your father,” her grandma consoled amidst their tight embrace while gently soothing her back. She knew how hard must it been for her granddaughter to handle. “Oh heavens! How I miss the warmth of your embrace,” Lady Francesca honestly admitted. Through her grandma, she was able to have the pleasure of hugging something identical to that of the scent of her late mother. After what f
Fired up with embarrassment and shame to having to witness such atrocities, Lady Francesca immediately closed her eyes and covered her palms so as to save her innocence further. She also turned her back into them as she felt the heavy and awkward atmosphere building. She didn’t know Verindale could be this wild and scandalous as she read it in the London publications and tabloids. It was a common knowledge to everyone that the Verindale’s present 19th earl of the earldom was a bold rebellious aristocrat who consistently tries to break the natural flow of the aristocracy as we know it. Just recently, Lady Francesca had heard of his bold attempt of bringing up a commoner as a muse during the grand birthday celebration of the prince regent at the most prestigious St. James Palace. That very event where she was being banned by his late father in attending to. Now, she couldn’t help but to wonder who that ea
Following her instinct and sharp memory, she followed the path she thought was the right one until she finds herself standing in the front door of the family’s tea store. “Here she is, mother. Young lovely Francesca took a stroll around,” Uncle Bastien shouted in enthusiasm towards the opposite side where old Lady Margaret was. For the short time her granddaughter’s disappearance, she was worried. Since Lady Francesca’s arrival at her home, she felt something was off, given that she didn’t gave a prior notice of her arrival like she used to do before to give enough time for the granny to prepare the room for her. This time was abrupt and sudden. There must a reason behind it. And she ought to wait for her granddaughter to take her time to open up for her. “Oh, thank goodness!” Lady Margaret had sighed in relief and immediately approached her newly arrived granddaughter. &