“When I first met you, I found your intelligence and beauty overwhelming. I am afraid I told falsehoods, however. The truth is I do not read for pleasure, nor do I enjoy outings such as the theater. Or I should say I did not, for I thought it would be a bore.”
He had lied all this time? She had felt a connection with him, but now she realized the man she thought he was did not exist. How foolish of her to believe a man could be interested in the same things as she.
“But as we spent more time together, as I experienced life as you see it, I found that I have come to genuinely enjoy those things. In fact, I cherish what we do together.”
Hannah was uncertain what to say. She had come to have a great affection for a man she thought she knew. How could he expect her to accept that?
“Please,” he begged, “just one more thing. I have never had an interest in a woman as I have for you. I must admit that I have come to admire you greatly.”
“You care for me that much?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat.
He nodded, and when he smiled, it warmed her heart. “I have been such a fool,” he said. “But that is in the past. I stand here before you admitting as much. If you can look beyond the mistakes I made before and look into my heart, you will see it only beats for you.”
For all the stories she had read, all the tales she had heard, and all the words she had written, none could have prepared her for this moment. For the first time in her life, she understood what it all meant. John had been honest as he spoke of his past and confessed his lies, and although what he had said hurt, he spoke with humbleness and sincerity. She had no other choice.
“I forgive you,” she said with a smile. “And if you do not like to read, just tell me so. I will not force you to do something you do not enjoy.
His smile broadened. “I purchased a copy of Hamlet and am now reading it. I want to be able to discuss authors who are real and not those who write about pudding.”
This made them both laugh, and without thought, Hannah threw her arms around him. He pulled her in closer, and she found his hold comforting.
She brought her lips close to his ear and whispered, “I must admit that I have feelings for you, as well. Thank you for telling me what was on your heart.”
When the embrace broke, she smiled as he reached up to wipe away her tears. “You are a wonderful woman. Thank you for understanding.”
As they made their way back to the drawing room, the bowl of sweets in her hand, Hannah knew she did not simply care for this man, for it was something much stronger. Love was the most beautiful of all things one could have and would make one do anything for the other. It would allow them to forgive, to move past any hurt, and even heal broken hearts. There was nothing Hannah would not do for the man for whom she had come to care.
Chapter Sixteen
He had come to the realization that he would do anything for Hannah. The love he had developed for her knew no bounds. He was unsure at what precise moment it had occurred, but it could have been any number of moments. Perhaps it was when he saw her for the first time, for he had thought her intriguing. Or when she shared secrets concerning her life, for she was intelligent. Or maybe it had been when she wore a particular dress that made her even more beautiful that he already thought her to be. Whatever the case might have been, it was clear that they shared in a destiny together.
So many times, he had worried that she would see through his ruse, that she would learn that he was not the person he was pretending to be. However, she had not, for she was an innocent and therefore never questioned the masquerade, which only made his affection for her that much greater.
He moved silently down the hallway that he knew how to traverse by heart and opened the door to the library. When it creaked, he paused to listen for anyone who would come to investigate, but the house remained as quiet as ever. Once inside, he inched the door closed until he heard the tiny click and stopped to listen again. Nothing.
Removing his coat, he placed it across the bottom of the door. Now he would be able to light a candle, for tonight he had a specific item in mind—the ledger in which she kept her writings.
He moved across the room to one of the bookcases, the light of the single candle giving enough light to see the spines of the books, if he brought it close and squinted. His finger touched each tome, but none were the one for which he searched. As he glanced down the long rows, a particular book overhung the shelf, and he growled in annoyance. He was meticulous if he was anything, and books were not meant to be unaligned! If they were, it only meant disorder, and he did not enjoy disorder in any form. However, when he attempted to push it back, something impeded its movement.
Strange, he thought, and he pulled out the book and reached into the space behind it, his fingers brushing another smaller book. Curious, he pulled it out and saw it was a small journal bound in dark brown leather. Taking the book to the nearby writing desk, he set down the candle and opened the book.
It was a journal! How fortunate! The beginning of the writing was boring, and he almost returned it to its hidden place. However, his curiosity made him turn the page, and he was delighted he had taken a chance, for what he read made his heart race with excitement. He now had everything he would need to complete his final task, and he had someone to thank!
Clutching the journal in his hands, he snuffed the candle and donned his coat now that it was safe that no light would be seen beneath the door. Sure footsteps made their way through Scarlett Hall, a home he had always envied and that one day would be his.
Outside the room belonging to Eleanor, he paused. Hearing no movement, he pushed the door open. Although he had entered the woman’s room many times under the cover of night, the excitement and fear still returned, for if the woman woke, how would he explain his presence in her private chambers?
However, she never woke, and he took his time to walk over to her vanity table and ran his fingers across the long expanse of polished wood. Perfumes, brushes, and other lady’s necessities were neatly organized, unlike the bookshelf in the library. How he had never noticed the misaligned book before, he did not know, but he was glad to have seen it this night.
He moved to the bed and smiled down at the sleeping woman, her breathing steady and rhythmic. “I always knew you were not perfect,” he whispered. “And now I have the proof, for I know your secret.” His fingers ached from how tightly he clutched the book, and the excitement was almost too much to bear. “Thank you for allowing me to learn of it.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips to Eleanor’s forehead. She scrunched her brow, and his heart froze. He could not allow her to wake and see him leaning over her! However, she let out a sigh, rolled to her side, and faced the opposite wall.
With relief, he released his breath as he stood and made his way back to the hallway. Before he closed the door, he looked back at the indistinguishable mound on the bed. “Your secret is safe with me,” he whispered. “As long as you obey and give me my heart’s desire.”
He closed the door with a soft click. His heart desired not only Hannah, but the home he had always coveted. The journal he now held would give him both, and for that he would always be forever grateful to Lady Eleanor Lambert.
***
Eleanor read the letter once again. It had arrived three days earlier, and she found her heart warm further each time she read it. It was wonderful to have Hannah enter into a courtship, and with a man for whom she cared and who was worthy of her hand. Truth be told, she could not have asked for more—he was a marquess!—and she had Isabel to thank. Once again, her eldest daughter had saved their family; this time by leading Hannah to love.
She placed the letter on the desk. When she had learned that this man Albert had proposed marriage—a sheep farmer of all things!—she had become angry, and fear had claimed her soul. What man of his station would believe he could make claims on a daughter of Scarlett Hall? The idea was absurd at best! Hannah was intelligent when it came to books and
other such academics, but she did not fully comprehend of that which men were capable.
According to the letter, this Lord John Stanford was everything Eleanor would have dreamed of for her daughter. Now that Hannah was safe from harm, Eleanor felt a weight lift from her shoulders. One more daughter seen to.
The door opened and Forbes entered. “My Lady,” he said with a bow, “Lady Ann will be arriving as planned to be chaperon to Miss Juliet. Will there be anything else? Some tea perhaps?”
Eleanor smiled. “No, thank you.” She lifted the letter from the desk. “I had thought the worse for Hannah, but it appears she is well taken care of, for which I am well pleased.”
Forbes walked over to her. “I must admit the news brought me joy, as well.” He shook his head. “Although I care for all of your children, I must admit that I have felt a special bond with Miss Hannah over the past year.”
Eleanor was not surprised. In her neglect for her daughter, the girl had gone to Forbes in order to have someone in which to confide. Although she felt guilt that it had happened, she could not change the past. Furthermore, what harm could there be in her daughter confiding in their butler? Was he not oftentimes more an extended family member than a servant?
“I know you do,” she said, “and I am aware she has sought you out for guidance. I am certain she has always met with wise counsel.”
Forbes chuckled. “I am not certain about the wisdom of my counsel, but you are kind all the same.”
“Hannah would not waste words writing a letter to someone for whom she did not care or respect.”
“I am honored to be held in such high esteem,” the butler murmured with a bow. “Ah, before I forget, I have scheduled time to collect your dress two days from today.”
“Excellent,” Eleanor replied. “With Lady Anne coming to watch over Juliet, our trip to London will be without worry.” She sighed. “It has been some time since I have been back to London. I must admit I am looking forward to it.”
“As you should be, my Lady,” Forbes said. “Miss Hannah is in love, and Miss Isabel—I mean, Her Grace—is married. Your children are growing and starting their own families.”
“Indeed,” Eleanor replied. She walked over to the window. “Gone are the days when I would look out and see them playing. I can still picture Juliet and Isabel arguing and Hannah sitting under the tree with a book on her lap, Nathaniel beside her listening to her read.”
“Do not despair, my Lady,” Forbes said.
Eleanor started; she had not heard him approach and had not expected him to be standing right beside her.
“Although things are changing,” he continued, “they must happen in order to usher in a new age.”
Eleanor sighed. “What you say is correct,” she said. “Thank you for reminding me.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and then she turned to him. However, he was no longer there. As usual, he had left without a sound, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The truth was she had done everything she could to insure her children were happy. Two daughters were where they should be—or near enough so. Now she had two more children to look after—Juliet and Nathaniel.
Her eyes fell to the tree under which Hannah had spent a majority of her young life. The words Forbes spoke could not have been truer; a new age had come for them all, but especially for Hannah. Love had come to the girl’s heart, and soon would follow talk of marriage. And in her heart, Eleanor knew Scarlett Hall would once again be filled with sounds of laughter.
Chapter Seventeen
Since Hannah’s realization that she did indeed love John, she had spent the past two weeks fretting over the ideal gift for him. Now, she stood in Hatchard’s on Piccadilly in search of the perfect book. The man had expressed a genuine interest in literature, and she could not help the warmth in her heart as they shared in that interest. Not only had they discussed the latest book he was reading, but he also showed an enthusiasm for the novel she was writing. The latter pleased her more than the former by far, and she could not believe her luck in finding such a man.
However, that was not her only source for excitement. Isabel had promised to accompany her to inquire about how one went about publishing a book, and Hannah could barely contain herself whenever she thought about that meeting, which, she had to admit, was quite often. How perfect her life had turned out! She had a gentleman for whom she had an affection, and she would see her dream of publishing realized. Indeed, she had to be one of the luckiest women in the whole of England.
Hatchard’s was a lovely bookstore that had opened nine years earlier, but Hannah could not have been more pleased at the selection. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with every book ever printed—or so Hannah thought. Perhaps that was an overestimation, but she imagined it had to be close, for there were so many. Choosing the right book was going to be a challenge, to be sure!
She perused several shelves before a table caught her eye. A stack of books bound in red cloth had gold embossed on the front cover; a journal! What a perfect gift! John could write his thoughts, his poetry, whatever he chose in such a book.
She chose one and moved past an old man in a dark tattered coat. He held a book to his nose, inhaled deeply, and then sighed. She found the actions strange, and she could not help but give him a curious look, although she knew it was rude.
“It was printed in Cornwall,” the man said with a smile. He sniffed it again. “Yes, I have no doubt; the ocean has a peculiar smell there.”
Hannah’s eyes went wide. “You can tell where a book was printed simply by its odor?” she asked. Before the man could reply, she lifted the journal to her nose and inhaled. “I smell…nothing. Perhaps the shop in which it was bound?” She sniffed it again. “Have you ever been to Dover? I do get a sense of the place.”
The old man eyed her for a moment, and then he began to laugh. “It works every time,” he said with a shake of his head. “Forgive me. The truth is, I looked at the first page; this is how I knew where it was published.”
Hannah walked away feeling foolish. She could not believe how silly she had been. Smelling a book to see where it had been printed, indeed! For a woman who viewed the world through the lens of logic, she certainly had fallen for a silly notion quite easily.
She paid for her book and left the store. Isabel and John had gone to another shop, and she was anxious to be away from Hatchard’s after that debacle, so she stopped a man. “Excuse me. Do you know where MacMillan’s is by chance?”
The man gave her a bow. “Yes, Miss. If you were to walk down the street that way,” he pointed behind him. “Come to the next street, take a right, and walk to the end. Then you take a right, and it’s about halfway down aways.”
Hannah attempted to picture the directions in her mind and smiled. “So, it is behind this building but one street over?”
The man nodded. “Right you are. There’s an alley just down that way,” he pointed in the direction in which he had been headed, “but I’d not recommend it. It’s not all that safe for a lady like you to walk alone.”
Hannah thanked the man. How silly, she thought. To think I cannot take care of myself. She clicked her tongue. She had been fooled once today, she was not about to allow it to happen again. The man’s smile told her he would get a good chuckle at seeing her walk all the way around when a faster route was available.
She glanced up at the sky. Dark storm clouds had moved in and thunder rumbled in the distance, which meant most people had rushed to nearby shops in order to be out of the coming rain, leaving the footpath nearly empty. Another reason not to take the long way around.
She walked to the alleyway and stopped to squint into the shadows within. The path before her was long and winded around to disappear from sight. She glanced in the directions the man had given her. Perhaps she should take the longer route after all.
Thunder rumbled again. No, she was no longer a child but rather a strong woman, and so, with shaky legs that belied
her strength, she entered the alley. Her footsteps were quick, and not ten paces in, she turned to look over her shoulder. There stood a man with his hat low over his brow, the shadows concealing his features and giving him a menacing look.
Fear overtook her, and she began to run. She had to reach the safety of the other side of the alley! However, before she reached it, she cried out as her foot caught in a hole, sending her crashing to the ground.
“Hannah?” the man who now stood looming over her asked. “It is you! Are you all right?”
Hannah looked up and her eyes went wide. “Connor?” she asked in a shocked tone as she stared up at Isabel’s former brother-in-law.
Connor Barnet reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you.”
She accepted his aid and stood on wobbly legs, and he placed his hands on her waist. “Whoa there,” he said. When she righted herself fully, he added, “There now. I cannot believe my good fortune in seeing you.”
She smiled and tested her ankle, relieved that she had not injured herself. “Thank you,” she said. “I thought you were a thief or a murderer.”
This brought about a bout of loud laughter. “I am many things, but most certainly not either of those.” His eyes seemed to study her, and she found his gaze disconcerting. “I am glad to see you, for I have inquired about you.”
“Have you?” Hannah asked, and she realized he had yet to remove his hands from her waist. She wished to tell him to remove them, although she was uncertain why it caused her such distress.
“I have,” he said. Why did he sound angry now? But no, it could not have been, for he returned to the earnest tone she had known him for in the past. “When I saw you at the party at Applewood Estates last month, I wanted to tell you that I thought you the most beautiful woman there. Many may see you as plain, but I assure you, I do not.”
“Connor,” Hannah gasped as she attempted to push the fear from her voice. The storm clouds gathered above them, and the alley darkened further. “I must ask you…”
Secrets of Scarlett Hall Box Set: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection Page 36