The Rebel's First Love

By Mia Aiko

In the scenic town of Havenshire, where the cobblestone streets and elegant buildings create a timeless atmosphere, the Kingsley family - also known as the best solicitor in town- living in their grand and opulent mansion. But beneath the surface of their aristocratic privilege and longstanding traditions, there's a subtle sense of restlessness.

The first born...
Arthur Kingsley, yearns for a different path. A place where his heart truly belongs, far from the confines of duty and expectation.

The second born...
Frederick Kingsley, embarks on a forbidden odyssey, pursuing a love he knows society forbids. A love that intertwines with the life of a young maid under his own roof.

The youngest...
Abigail Kingsley, dares to reshape her destiny. She aspires to become Havenshire's first-ever sportswoman, resisting the fate of a solitary marriage.

What will these three do to challenge societal norms and regulations?
And how... will they triumph over them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781304963536

Book preview

The Rebel's First Love

Mia Aiko

Joel & Grace Publishing

Copyright © 2023 Mia Aiko

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 978-1-304-96353-6

Cover design by: Joel & Grace Publishing

Published by : Joel & Grace Publishing

to Grace who has inspired me to finally begin...

to you who have been my number one supporter...

I love you.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty One

Twenty Two

Twenty Three

Twenty Four

Twenty Five

Twenty Six

Twenty Seven

Twenty Eight

Twenty Nine

Thirty

Epilogue

About The Author

Prologue

In the hushed embrace of the moonlit garden, Bessie and Frederick found solace under the canopy of night. The fragrant blooms, touched by the silver glow, whispered secrets that only they could hear. It was a haven where their hearts could speak without restraint, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes of society.

Their connection had blossomed into something deeper, a bond that transcended the boundaries of their respective worlds. Bessie's laughter danced like fireflies, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves, while Frederick's gaze held an intensity that could rival the stars above. In those stolen moments, they were two souls suspended in time, drawn together by a force they couldn't deny.

Frederick's fingers brushed against Bessie's, a touch as delicate as the petals they stood amidst. Their eyes locked, and in that unspoken exchange, the air grew heavy with unfulfilled desires. The world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them and the intoxicating promise that hung in the air.

Bessie, Frederick's voice was a mere whisper, yet it resonated with a depth that sent shivers down her spine.

She turned to him, her heart pounding against the cage of her ribs. Frederick.

In the depths of his gaze, she saw a conflict—a battle between the undeniable pull they felt and the walls that society had built around them. Their love was a forbidden fruit, tantalizingly close yet veiled in shadows. But in this garden, bathed in the luminescence of the moon, their inhibitions waned.

He reached for her hand, his touch sending a surge of warmth through her veins. Bessie, what if we run away? Starting anew, just the two of us. Find a place where we're strangers, far from the eyes that know our past.

Frederick's words hung in the air, mingling with the cool evening breeze. Bessie's heart fluttered at the audacity of his proposal, the daring idea of escaping the life they knew. She gazed into his eyes, her mind racing as she weighed the possibilities. A thousand thoughts and emotions swirled within her, each vying for her attention.

Her fingers played with the edge of her worn apron as she considered his words. The notion of starting afresh, of breaking free from the constraints that had bound them, was undeniably tempting. The weight of her family's debts and the societal expectations that confined her felt oppressive. Yet, she also felt a sense of duty, a responsibility to those she cared for.

Bessie, please, Frederick's voice was a gentle plea, his eyes searching hers.I can arrange everything. If only you said ‘yes’. Just say the word, and we’ll leave immediately.

She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving his. Frederick, it's a beguiling dream you paint, one that tempts me like a whispered promise on the wind. To escape, to begin anew... it's a tantalizing thought. Her voice quivered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

But? Frederick's voice held a note of anticipation.

But, Bessie continued, we can't ignore the ties that bind us, the lives we leave behind.            

Frederick's shoulders slumped slightly, a mixture of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. I know, Bessie. It's just... I can't help but wish for a life where it's just us, unburdened by the past.

She reached out and placed a hand on his, her touch gentle yet resolute. Frederick, we may not be able to escape our circumstances entirely, but we can find solace in the moments we share, the stolen glances, and the whispered words.

He looked into her eyes, a mixture of gratitude and affection in his gaze. That is not enough, Bessie.

His words hung in the air like a charged current, and Bessie felt her heart race in response. Frederick's hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing a delicate line along her jaw. She could feel the heat radiating from his touch, sending shivers down her spine.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a hesitant yet longing kiss. Bessie's breath caught in her throat as a rush of emotions surged within her. His kiss was soft and searching, as if he were trying to convey all the unspoken desires that had been building between them.

A surge of longing washed over Frederick, his heart pounding as he deepened the kiss. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, as if he wanted to erase the distance between them entirely. Bessie's own hands found their way to his chest, her fingers clutching his shirt as she melted into the kiss.

For a fleeting moment, the world around them faded into oblivion. There was only Frederick, his lips against hers, and the intoxicating sense of freedom that their forbidden connection granted them.

But then, as quickly as it had begun, Bessie pulled away, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with a mixture of desire and apprehension. She placed a trembling hand over her lips, her heart pounding in her chest.

Frederick, we can't, she whispered, her voice quivering.

He reached out to touch her arm, his eyes filled with frustration and longing. Bessie, I know we're confined by the rules of this world, but can't we steal just a moment for ourselves?

Bessie's gaze was torn, torn between the fire of her desires and the weight of her responsibilities. She shook her head, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. It's not that simple, Frederick. We're standing on the edge of something that could unravel everything we know.

Frederick's shoulders slumped, his frustration palpable. He knew she was right, but the intensity of his feelings had clouded his judgment.

Bessie took a step back, her resolve firming. She wiped away the tear that had escaped her eye and gave him a sad smile. Frederick, I love you. But we must tread carefully, or else we risk losing everything we hold dear. And it will be more difficult for me, than it will for you.

With that, she turned and walked away, each step feeling like a painful retreat. Frederick watched her go, his heart heavy with a mixture of desire, frustration, and a growing understanding of the delicate balance they were trying to maintain. As he stood alone in the moonlit night, he couldn't shake the feeling that their forbidden connection had ignited a flame that couldn't easily be extinguished.

One

I 'm coming, I'm coming!

With a burst of hurried steps, Bessie Wildblood ascended the staircase, her heart pounding in her chest. Panic urged her to move faster, and she nearly kicked the door open when she reached her baby sister's room. The little one had erupted into sobs, her sole method of communication, a year-old's cry.

Here, here, Clara. Let me take you down, and we'll have our breakfast shortly, Bessie cooed as she scooped her baby sister into her arms.

Their lives had been cast into disarray a month ago when their parents passed away. Forced to leave their country home, they now resided in their aunt's Westown residence, a town that lay hours away from the life they had once known.

Her aunt, Helen Wood, was a decent woman. However, familial bonds with her mother's side were tenuous at best. Thus, they seldom engaged in conversation. The most extended exchange Helen had ever initiated was the simple query, How was your breakfast? To which Bessie offered a nod and a reciprocal, It was very delicious. How was yours?

Initially, the situation hadn't bothered Bessie much. She dealt with the grief of losing her parents and adjusted to life in her aunt's home. However, as days turned into weeks, the weight of her new reality began to press down on her.

The recurring arguments between Mr. and Mrs. Wood, which sometimes reverberated through the halls, combined with Clara's frequent tantrums, cast a shadow over Bessie's spirits.

The Woods, while not wealthy, had been chosen as her and Clara's godparents, a responsibility they hadn't embraced wholeheartedly. It seemed clear that this wasn't the role they had envisioned for themselves. They had lived childless lives by choice, and the burden of caring for two young girls was straining their previously peaceful existence.

As Bessie entered the living room, she gently handed Clara over to the house's head servant. Her aunt, Helen, greeted her with a question, Bessie, is that you?

Bessie responded promptly, her voice laced with curiosity, Yes, Aunt Helen?

Do you have a moment? I think we need to speak.

Helen's stern expression hinted at the gravity of the impending conversation. She was known for her brevity, and when she requested a moment to speak, it carried the weight of significance. Bessie, standing by the door, met her aunt's gaze, preparing herself for an important discussionBessie settled into a chair opposite Helen, her gaze steady as she inquired, How may I help you, Aunt Helen?

Helen spoke gently, her words revealing her awareness of the hardships Bessie had endured. I know it must be very difficult for you, especially after everything that happened to your parents. Helen's eyes remained focused on her as she continued, But I hope you also understand the situation here in the household. I don't possess any power. My husband does. And the situation is not good. You know, financially.

As the conversation unfolded, Bessie, with a sense of unease, began to discern the direction it was taking.

Helen maintained her gaze, and after a moment of thoughtful silence, she inquired, You will be twenty this year, will you not?

Bessie nodded in agreement. Helen's words carried a weight that left Bessie silently curious about what was coming next.

I... really want to help you, from the bottom of my heart, Helen began earnestly. You ought to know that I loved my sister very much. So believe me when I say, I have no ill will towards you. I hope there will not be any misunderstanding between us.

Yes, Aunt Helen, Bessie responded, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension in her voice, her mind brimming with questionsHelen's voice took on a somber tone as she continued, I need you to know that... your parents left you not with anything. Nothing but debts to pay, Bessie.

Bessie's heart raced as she absorbed this shocking revelation. She could feel her palms growing clammy as she anxiously bit her lip.

Our solicitor explained everything. Your father had failed to repay a substantial sum to the Kingsleys, and now, they're demanding payment with his passing.

Each word of explanation felt like another stone added to the weight that was now crushing Bessie's world. Everything seemed to be growing darker, casting an even deeper shadow over her already challenging life.

We had talked to their representation, to explain your situation. And we had come to conclusion as to how you -I mean, we- will pay for the debt.

How I will pay? Bessie almost yelled that out of her mind.

They've demanded that you - the eldest and first child of the Wildblood family - work for them for a specific amount of time. But don't worry, Helen said, trying to sound reassuring. They will provide you with a place to stay and meals. You won't receive a direct payment as long as you're working for them.

Bessie was overwhelmed by the news but couldn't find the courage to ask the necessary questions, such as 'How much is the debt?' 'How long do I have to work for the Kingsley family?' and 'How did my parents leave me in debt when we were living well in the country?'

Fear held her tongue, as she knew that if she started talking, she might break down. Crying, screaming, sobbing, and trembling would not solve anything at this moment. She had to find a way to face this daunting situation with resilience.

Bessie summoned every ounce of strength she had left to maintain her composure. This wasn't the moment to unravel; there never seemed to be a suitable time for it.

The concern for Clara gave her the courage to speak. What about Clara?

Helen's response was direct. We can only afford to care for Clara, and that's why we're having this conversation.

Bessie was left with little choice. She had to comply with their terms, as it was the only option left to her. Despite feeling like her world was collapsing, she had to go along with it.

Can I still see her? Bessie asked, her voice quivering.

Of course, dear, Helen replied.

The conversation ended abruptly, a stark directive from her own family. It was cold and sterile, lacking any form of negotiation or consideration.

The moment she retreated into her room and closed the door, it was as if the floodgates within her had burst. Her sobs echoed through the room as her body quivered uncontrollably. She lost the strength to hold herself together, falling to the floor. For the first time since her parents' passing, she allowed herself to cry. Her silent sobs were a release, her walls of self-preservation crumbling as she let her emotions flow freely. In that brief moment, Bessie was unmasked, a fleeting return to her true self, before the mask had to be put back on. She knew it was just for now, a final opportunity to be herself before the demands of her new life would take over.

Two

Arriving at the Kingsley's mansion at the break of dawn, Bessie found the sky still veiled in darkness and the brisk wind tugging at her, threatening to send shivers down her spine. The imposing mansion loomed before her, its grandeur casting an almost intimidating shadow.

Guiding her through the early morning mist was the head servant of the Kingsley family, Mrs. Browning, a kind and plump black woman who provided Bessie with clear instructions upon her arrival. Mrs. Browning offered a succinct yet thorough overview of the family's dynamics.

The Kingsley family was renowned for generations as the preeminent solicitors of Havenshire, their wealth a testament to their success. The couple at the helm had borne two sons and a daughter, each with their distinct roles.

Arthur, following in his father's footsteps, was a successful solicitor himself, leveraging the influence of his illustrious name. In contrast, Frederick stood apart—a rebellious figure, rarely gracing the household with his presence, and known for his tendency for excess and misbehavior. As for Abigail, she was painted as a model of virtue—a young lady of kindness akin to her mother. Abigail's education, manners, and warmth set her apart, and Bessie learned that she was engaged to the youngest heir of the town's esteemed Griffiths family.

This new world was a revelation for Bessie, who had spent her days tending to farm animals in the quiet countryside. Society, surnames, and solicitors were alien concepts to her. The desire to unravel the intricacies of this unfamiliar realm ignited within her, even as she grappled with the overwhelming novelty of it all. Yet, for now, she steeled herself to face the challenges that lay ahead.

Stepping down from the carriage, Bessie squared her shoulders, lifting her chin to meet the imposing mansion's gaze. The journey into the heart of Havenshire had begun, and with it, her destiny would unfurl amidst the secrets and splendors of the Kingsley household.

***

What a dull day, Frederick Kingsley thought to himself. He sipped from the flask of whiskey he had been carrying everywhere. It was still dawn, but it was already his second bottle. Or third? Frederick had lost count.

Every day seemed like a repetition. He would wake up, do nothing, get drunk, and perhaps eat a little bit of food if he had the appetite. He'd hear his father's complaints about how his life was miserable and misguided.

There was no one to blame. His family had provided him with everything, including the freedom to find something that could give him a purpose. Unlike his brother Arthur, who had inherited his father's talent and was designed to be the true heir of the Kingsley, Frederick was left with a sense of aimlessness. He was the secondborn, with the firstborn privileges of power and freedom, yet they only left him feeling confused and trapped. The endless distractions at his fingertips, the ability to escape higher responsibilities because of his last name – they didn't provide him with a sense of direction, only a blank page.

He didn't know what to do with his life. There were no dreams,