After Tabetha Barkley’s Mother passes away, she finds herself near destitute and without work experience. Out of options, Tabetha pays a visit to the Duchess of Devon to call in an old favor owed to her Mother. Now, Tabetha is to be a maid in the Devon home. It seems her problems are solved. That is, until a handsome footman starts playing havoc with her heart, and endangering her plans.
Thomas Kingston proudly serves the Duke of Devon’s household, never dreaming of more, until Miss Tabetha Barkley shows up in the Duchess’s drawing-room. Now he finds himself smitten and wishing for a different future. One where he can both serve the duke and marry Tabetha. To bad footmen are not allowed such liberties.
Tabetha and Thomas grow more fond of each other by the day. Before long, their hearts are engaged, but their circumstances demand they remain unattached. Dare they grab onto each other and fight for the future they dream of?
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Yorkshire England, 1818
The hot summer sun beat down on Miss Tabetha Barkley as she made her way down the Duke of Devon’s crushed stone drive. The sun had just crested the horizon when she had set out on her errand. It now hung high above. She used the corner of her thin shawl to wipe the sweat away from her brow. The combination of heat and nerves was stifling.
She slowed her pace as she approached the circle in the drive that surrounded a grand fountain so large it was more like a pond. Her gaze moved to the house’s facade. Four stories of embellished stone and turrets rose up before her. Large windows trimmed with sculpted stone hung proudly across each floor on the front of the home.
Tabby inhaled a slow breath. It was all so elegant… so distinguished. But then, what had she expected? Hartland Abbey was home to a duke, after all. Of course, it would be stately and all together imposing. Certainly in the eyes of a village miss, which Tabby was.
She did not belong here. What if the duchess saw her boldness as an insult and refused to see her? What if the butler didn’t even allow her through the front door? Tabby would starve, or worse. She shook her head. Now was not the time to think about the worse. She needed to be positive and present her best self.
God willing, it would be enough.
Tabetha paused at the porch, her heart racing. Two stone staircases led up to the landing, one jutting off in each direction to meet the drive. Large stone urns of flowers decorated the balustrades. The place was fit for royalty, to be sure. Tabby sighed.
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Dutch
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Translation in progress.
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by Vieru Raluca Maria
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German
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Already translated.
Translated by Maya Grünschloß, Phd
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Italian
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Translation in progress.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by André Weber
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
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