Wish Upon a Waltz by Alanna Lucas

Author:Alanna Lucas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical regency romance, eight years have passed since they saw each other, he came to his title through tragedy, he defies his grandmother for a chance at happiness, he thinks she is dead, his grandmother tries to manipulate the outcome of his life, she has a terrible secret, she hides from society as a ladys companion, she thinks he abandoned her intentionally
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

Chapter Eight

The blue sky sprinkled with fluffy clouds was a soothing balm to her problems. Anastasia knew she should not have ventured from the room for fear of seeing Lord Huntingdon or his grandmother, but many of the guests still had not risen, including most of the men. After the entertainments from last night, Philippa had said that she would be surprised if the women were on time to the scavenger hunt that was to take place later that afternoon.

Anastasia lay back on the crisp grass and gazed up into the clear blue sky. White puffy clouds danced across the great expanse, their shape taking form in her imagination.

The outline of a horse galloping in the meadow pranced across the sky. Another cloud shifted, revealing a heart. The wind carried the heart, dissolving it into the breeze and reminding her of her own broken heart.

It just didn’t seem fair. Men were allowed all sorts of freedom. Men were forgiven for foolish youthful mistakes, where women were condemned for the rest of their lives for following their heart. Anastasia reflected on all that she had lost, how she had disgraced her family, lost the only man she ever had loved, and her only child.

She splayed her hand across her flat stomach, remembering the feel of her precious baby kicking inside. She had not known what the future would hold, but she had vowed to her unborn child that she would love her and care for her and never abandon her, the way her own family had abandoned Anastasia in her time of need.

Promises that she was not able to keep. She was not able to protect her child from death.

On a stormy, horrible night, her daughter had been born. She was so tiny and fragile. In her short life, she never complained or cried. It was the most precious gift Anastasia had ever been given and for a brief time her world was bright against the dark and gloomy unknown. But her joy had been short-lived. With the rising sun came her daughter’s last breath.

The hard lump that had lived in her chest resurfaced with full force. Anastasia remembered the grief and pain of losing her baby as if it were only yesterday. She had held her tiny daughter as she took her last breath. Had held her for hours afterward, hoping, praying that she would breathe again, that her precious little life would be restored. But it never happened.

Tears streamed down Anastasia’s cheeks, soaked up by the hair at her temples. She turned onto her side, burying her face into her arm, giving into the grief that still tormented her.

* * *

Over the past years, Dante had often imagined seeing her, wished that she had not died. It would appear that his wish had come true.

He kept glancing at the clock. Dante could have sworn that it was later than it actually was. It seemed as if time was standing still—or worse, moving backwards. He paced the length of the

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