A few hours ago, during the night, Belle had slept with a content heart in her husband's arms until she drifted into unwanted dreams in her sleep. She had found herself living the life of Isabelle again, this time her heart still filled with happiness and not resentment, only love for Deven.
"You look beautiful, my lady," Deven Marchant commented as he took in the sight of the young woman sitting beside him in Greenpark on a bench under the shade.
A pink color bloomed on her cheeks at his comment, and she shyly looked down at her lap where she was fingering the flower design on her dress. "You look handsome yourself, my lord. I… I can't believe you want to marry me. The Marquis and her Lady came to see my Ma and Pa yesterday and they talked about it..."
