They detoured into that section, taking the narrower paths between the sets of graves.
“There it is.” He waved his cane at a neat, elegant, but not ostentatious marble-topped grave. The headstone, surmounted by a lute-playing angel, was clean, the plot well-cared for.
Settling her arm snugly in his, Rose halted by his side at the foot of the grave. “Edith Balmain.” She glanced up at Thomas—her husband—and felt the thrill that still skittered through her every time she realized that that was now a fact, now true. His face was calm; his normal expression was less impassive than it used to be, but other than the fact that the old lady hadn’t been someone he’d disliked, she couldn’t read more from his face. “Who was she?” Most especially, who was she in relation to you?
As usual, he answered her unspoken question, the one most important to her. “She was an old lady who, from the very first, saw me as I truly am. She gave me advice that I didn’t heed at the time—back then I was young enough, arrogant enough, to think I knew everything—but, in time, I came to value her words. She saw my weaknesses and my strengths, as well as my potential. She understood me in a way that no one else did.”
He shifted his gaze to her. “Until you.”
Rose looked into his hazel eyes and saw the devotion that would always be hers, his biggest gift to her, shining steady and strong. After a moment, she drew breath, then, together, they looked at the grave.
“Ros-a-lind!”
William; Rose glanced around.
Thomas gently squeezed Rose’s hand. “Go. I won’t be long.” He met her gaze as she looked back at him. “I’ll catch up—we can walk on and leave through the gate at the end of the path.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. Drawing her arm from his, her hand from his sleeve, she turned and walked off to where William and Alice were investigating a particular grave.
Thomas watched her go. Fate had obviously thought Stokes’s advice sound, and Rose was already expecting their first child, a boon and a future prospect just the thought of which held the power to make him weak.
With joy.
With a gladness of heart he’d never before truly known, not until he’d gone to Breage Manor, knocked on his own door, and met Rose.
Looking back at Edith Balmain’s last resting place, that welling joy still buoying his soul, he smiled. “I think you would be pleased with how everything’s turned out.” The murmured words fell from his lips, spoken without his usual restraint, the distance he instinctively preserved between him and most of the world. “You told me the truth about myself so long ago—you were the only one who ever did. You were the only one who ever tried to reach me, who understood enough about me to make the attempt. But, back then, I was too young, too immature, too flown on my own brilliance to pay your words due heed.” He paused, then admitted, “Even so, even then, I knew you were right, but it took me a long time—and the example of another of your descendants, Sarah, now Countess of Meredith—to make me look, and see, and finally acknowledge that. And to change.”
Shifting to fold both hands over the head of his cane, his gaze on the grave, he went on, “I made the change and I thought that was the end, but, apparently, it wasn’t. Having changed . . . it seems that for me that was only the beginning, that, despite my age, I’ve only recently started living—started living the life I’m supposed to lead. The fact that I’m still here . . . I’m sure you would tell me that that’s a sign, a directive from above as to how things need to be. So . . . for however long I’m granted, I will take your long-ago words to heart and endeavor to live wisely.”
He paused, remembering the old lady with her piercingly acute gaze, hearing again her insightful words, then he refocused on the headstone and smiled. “In many ways, all the good I do, and might do throughout my life, stems from those words of yours. I never thanked you while you were alive, but I thought you might appreciate knowing that the impact of those words and your influence has continued, and is continuing on, long after you died.”
After a moment, he gripped his cane and started to turn away, then he paused and said, “One thing you didn’t tell me, although I’m sure you knew—love truly is the most transformative power in heaven and on earth.”
Turning away, he looked around, located Rose’s shining head—focused on her, on his future, and went forward to meet it.
About the Author
#1 New York Times bestselling author STEPHANIE LAURENS began writing as an escape from the dry world of professional science, a hobby that quickly became a career. Her novels set in Regency England have captivated readers around the globe, making her one of the romance world’s most beloved and popular authors Loving Rose is her fifty-fourth book. All of her previous works remain in print and readily available.
Readers can contact Stephanie via e-mail at [email protected].
For information on all of Stephanie’s books, including updates on novels yet to come, visit Stephanie’s website at www.stephanielaurens.com.
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By Stephanie Laurens
The Cynster Novels
DEVIL’S BRIDE • A RAKE’S VOW • SCANDAL’S BRIDE
A ROGUE’S PROPOSAL • A SECRET LOVE
ALL ABOUT LOVE • ALL ABOUT PASSION
THE PROMISE IN A KISS • ON A WILD NIGHT
ON A WICKED DAWN • THE PERFECT LOVER
THE IDEAL BRIDE • THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE
WHAT PRICE LOVE? • THE TASTE OF INNOCENCE
TEMPTATION AND SURRENDER
The Cynster Sisters Trilogy
VISCOUNT BRECKENRIDGE TO THE RESCUE
IN PURSUIT OF ELIZA CYNSTER
THE CAPTURE OF THE EARL OF GLENCRAE
The Cynster Sisters Duo
AND THEN SHE FELL
THE TAMING OF RYDER CAVANAUGH
The Bastion Club Novels
CAPTAIN JACK’S WOMAN (prequel)
THE LADY CHOSEN • A GENTLEMAN’S HONOR
A LADY OF HIS OWN • A FINE PASSION
TO DISTRACTION • BEYOND SEDUCTION
THE EDGE OF DESIRE • MASTERED BY LOVE
The Black Cobra Quartet
THE UNTAMED BRIDE • THE ELUSIVE BRIDE
THE BRAZEN BRIDE • THE RECKLESS BRIDE
Other Novels
THE LADY RISKS ALL
The Casebook of Barnaby Adair
WHERE THE HEART LEADS
THE MASTERFUL MR. MONTAGUE
LOVING ROSE: THE REDEMPTION OF MALCOLM SINCLAIR
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The name Stephanie Laurens is a registered trademark of Savdek Management Proprietary Ltd.
LOVING ROSE. Copyright © 2014 by Savdek Management Proprietary Ltd. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition AUGUST 2014 ISBN: 9780062066305
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062068675
FIRST EDITION
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Loving Rose: The Redemption of Malcolm Sinclair (Casebook of Barnaby Adair) Page 34