helen of castleford
5 ✨
Quod meum est, ego servabo. What is mine, I keep.
overview: this was so perfect that I actually wanted to throw up a couple of times. This book is for the girlies who want a Little Women winter.
characters: Helen is no nonsense, strong, and so kind. I admired her gumption and how she isn’t scared to stand up for herself and do things she’s never done before. Such a sweetheart!
Bellamy is compassionate, a lil grumpy sometimes, dramatic, protective, and generous — and he gets solid character development too! We love a man who admits when they’re wrong 😌
Also I love Devon. No notes, he’s just perfection.
Nora is such a sweetheart and I loved her too!
This little friend group was everything <3
romance: I have to admit it — I swooned a couple of times. The romance was just actual perfection; I literally couldn’t stop highlighting, giggling, and kicking my feet. Their relationship is intimate, teasing, and gentle; gives off that feeling of being each others best friend, the first one they turn to 🥺
Bellamy in love is just about the best thing I’ve ever read. He buys her so many thoughtful gifts and writes such sweet letters and is just so in love with his wife 😭😭😭 plus he calls her “wife” and is endearing and genuine and tender. This man is not afraid to let the world know that he thinks his wife is pretty cool. He literally don’t know what he’s doing but he does his best to be a good husband.
To counteract his adoration, Helen is doing her best to deal with all the attention… at first. Then she purposely loses a game so her husband has to kiss her 🤭 Helen in love is bold and no nonsense and alllllll in.
Also they both are dramatic 😭😭😭 one minute Bellamy is doing his best to guard his heart and the next he’s sitting in his library in front of the fire, sighing, and thinking “where’s my wife? I miss her 😔”. And Helen is literally fighting for her life whenever she looks into his eyes hehe.
✨ marriage of convenience
✨ grumpy x sunshine
✨ tons of “my wife” moments
Bellamy's smile abruptly disappeared. "You may refer to my wife as Her Grace, the Duchess of Bellême."
"I will do my poor best," he offered gallantly. Helen smiled, and he felt amply rewarded for potentially making a fool of himself. There had to be a less embarrassing way to flirt with a woman.
Reflecting on her many facets, he couldn't decide if she was more fascinating when she was cleverly impertinent or adorably shy, and the amount of time he had spent trying to decide was a secret he would take to his grave.
She smiled at Bellamy with her heart in her eyes, and he had to sternly tell his own traitorous vascular organ to take a damper.
Teasing her with the mistletoe in the stables, pretending to help her make the wassail, knowing he had given her the pearls that danced on her earlobes, witnessing her delight at her first Christmas tree and the way the candles reflected in her shining eyes...holding her in his arms and being the one that she turned to for comfort when her heart was breaking.
These first eight days of Christmas had all had their magical moments; some even miraculous, as his butler had pointed out…. there was also the warming of a cold heart, and the turning of a sombre, cheerless house into a home.
He sighed. He hadn't seen his wife all day, and he missed her.
It was at that moment that Piers realised he loved his wife. He almost laughed at the sheer stupidity of his faulty brain.
"I love you," she said to her duke. "You are mine, and I'm keeping you."
His arms tightened around her waist. "I've come to the same conclusion."
"How lucky for us," she squeaked.
writing: slower paced, easy to read, descriptive without being wordy, and so casually hilarious without trying too hard — honestly obsessed with it.
atmosphere: a grand, cozy castle, mistletoe literally everywhere, a golden gaze, so many homey, intimate moments.
Books had been jammed (somewhat haphazardly) on the shelves built into the walls. An old cream damask covered the overstuffed couches and chairs, which were arranged cosily next to a cheerful fire. Six narrow windows on the outer wall provided a view of the garden. The windows were antique; their diamond-shaped panes were leaded together, but the old glass was not so wavy that you couldn't see the grey day outside.
The beloved gables and tracery of Castleford's roofline were visible from her spot, above the various shades of orange, red, and gold leafing trees that grew in this wooded area. The haze of predawn was giving way to pinks and golds and blues. Leaves rustled in the nippy breeze, the brook babbled, grasses waved, and the rabbits darted to and fro.
The footmen's breath appeared around them like short-lived clouds in the courtyard, echoing the wispy blankets of fog that were slowly retreating from the landscape and rolling over the ornamental lake. Birds had been singing for the last half hour, and weak beams of sunlight began to pierce the yard, dawn triumphant in the age-old struggle against the night—at least for now. Mist swirled into nothingness in the path of the light, and a blackbird that must have been very close to Helen gave a sweet trill.
The path she trod was spick and span, with not a pebble out of bounds. The dormant plants she passed sparkled in their wintry diamond coats. Only the holly was lush and healthy, and full of pretty red berries.
season: autumn — winter.
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content: language (n/a). sexual (touches and kisses, NO SPICE). other (mentions of affairs, and a very unsavory man; a woman dying after childbirth, off page, no details).
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💌PS (I LOVE YOU)
— Kirsten <3