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Secrets of Scarlett Hall Box Set: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection

Page 43

by Jennifer Monroe


  “Oh, John!” Hannah said as she rushed forward, but John raised a hand for her to stay back.

  “Ah, the good Lady Lambert!” Albert said with a laugh as he rolled to his side. He reached into his pocket and produced a book of some sort. “I have been wishing to speak to you, for I know your secrets.”

  “Mother?” Hannah said when she saw the look of worry on her mother’s face. Was all that this man said true?

  Her mother shook her head. “What do you want?” she demanded. “Do you want money in exchange for my journal?”

  Albert laughed and wiped at his nose. The air grew colder, and Hannah shivered as she wondered at what Albert had told her.

  “I want Hannah,” he said as he rose to his knees, a smug smile on his lips. “I want you to give me her hand. Then I want your money, your home, and your land.” He laughed as Forbes approached him and took the journal from his hands. “You believe I care if you take the book? I have memorized every word, every name, even the name…”

  Forbes sent the man flying backwards as his foot struck him in the face, and Albert lay silent. “It appears this man will need to be taken to the magistrates,” the faithful butler said. “I will take care of this problem, my Lady, Miss Hannah. You should return before you catch your cold and worry your guests.”

  Her mother took a step forward. “Forbes, I believe…”

  What happened next was etched into Hannah’s memory for years to come. “Eleanor,” he said in a stern tone Hannah had never heard the butler use with her mother, “Attend to your daughter and leave this matter to me.”

  The manner in which her mother merely nodded in obedience further surprised Hannah. Her mother turned, slipped her arm in Hannah’s, and led her toward the hedges. “Come. Let us go.”

  Forbes turned to John. “My Lord, please make certain the ladies arrive home safely. Your noble deeds are done for tonight.”

  John stared at the older man for a moment before nodding and joining Hannah and her mother, and soon they were on the other side of the hedges once again.

  As they made their way back to the townhouse, Laurence met them on the footpath. Her mother did not give him the opportunity to ask any questions before she said, “We will enter through the servants’ entrance and go straight to the drawing room, is that clear?” Her voice was firm and brooked no argument.

  “Yes,” Hannah whispered.

  “If anyone asks,” she continued, “John caught a thief near the window attempting to gain entry into the house. John and the thief fought, and Hannah, fearful of what she had seen, ran and hid in the bushes.” Hannah and John nodded their agreement. “We will never speak of Albert or this evening to anyone besides ourselves, is that clear? No one!”

  Her mother did not wait for their response, but instead turned and headed down the street and to the door Hannah had used to escape when she believed it was Connor who was pursuing her.

  Hannah’s mind was still reeling from what had transpired, but as they entered the house—lights now blazing in the servants’ hall—she felt safe inside its walls, and, more importantly, with John by her side.

  ***

  Hannah sat beside John on the couch in the drawing room, her mother across from them. Isabel had come in earlier to see how they were doing, and their mother relayed the story of the thief and John’s heroics in stopping him. Isabel did not stay, however, for there were still guests in the ballroom, and she promised to make excuses for the three who now sat alone in the room.

  Remorse over all that had happened coursed through Hannah. “I am sorry for the fiasco I caused,” she said with tears rimming her eyes once again. “It was never my intention…”

  Her mother lifted a hand, and Hannah clamped her mouth shut. “You have done nothing wrong. It was that…animal…who is to blame.”

  “May I ask who that man was?” John said.

  Hannah glanced at her mother, who gave her a nod. “He was a friend, or rather and acquaintance, from a society of writers I met last year. I learned before coming to London that he became enamored with me, and he asked me to marry him. I did not give him an answer at the time, although I did not wish to marry the man.” She looked down at her hands in shame. “I sent him a letter explaining that I did not wish to marry him, but he said he did not believe it.” She looked up, first at John and then at her mother. “I am so sorry…to both of you.”

  “It is as your mother said,” John replied. “You are not to blame. I am glad I decided to follow you.”

  “Why did you leave with him?” her mother asked.

  “I saw someone here…”

  The door opened and Isabel entered once more, this time followed by the very man she was going to mention—Connor Barnet. Fear gripped Hannah, and she clutched her skirts in her hands as if readying herself to run once more.

  “My apologies for interrupting,” Isabel said, “but Connor wishes to say something.”

  The man stepped forward, his hands rigid at his sides. “Miss Hannah,” he began as if rehearsing lines, “I came to apologize for my behavior the last time we met.”

  John shifted in his seat and shot the man a glare, but he said nothing.

  “You see, I was so excited to see you that I acted in a manner that is not befitting of a gentleman. I have replayed that scenario in my head time and again since, and I handled myself rather brashly. I make no excuse for my actions, mind you, but if I caused you any fright, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I beg your forgiveness.”

  Isabel smiled at him. “It was Connor who told Mother about seeing you in the hallway. When he tried to apologize tonight, he said you ran off in fright.”

  Beside Hannah, John mumbled something she could not quite make out.

  “I knew I was the cause of your fear, and so when I saw your mother, I explained what had happened before. Lady Lambert has been gracious enough to pardon me for my actions that day, but I hope you can find it in you to forgive me, as well.” He finished with a deep bow.

  “So, you were not angry with me that day?” Hannah asked.

  The man gasped. “Angry? Absolutely not! I could never be angry with you. I had rehearsed often what I would say when I saw you again; however, when I did finally get the opportunity to share my feelings for you, I muddled it up so much I was angry with myself. You most certainly did nothing wrong, and I would understand if you never spoke to me again.”

  “Thank you for explaining,” Hannah said. She looked up at the man who had given Isabel much support when Isabel’s husband died. A man who had remained a friend to the family after. “And I also forgive you. It is clear that it was all a misunderstanding.”

  The rigidness Connor had been carrying disappeared. “Your kindness is appreciated,” he said with an eager bow. “I wish you all a pleasant evening.”

  “Come, we will return to the party,” Isabel said, taking Connor’s arm as if he had offered it to her. “I have guests to attend to.”

  He gave her a wide smile, and the two left the room.

  Hannah felt a small part of the fear and worrying she had been carrying leave her. Connor had meant her no harm, and Albert was being delivered to those who would do whatever needed to be done. She and her family were safe.

  “Connor is a good man,” her mother said. “I am thankful he came to me, for it was his information that led Forbes to go out in search of you.”

  “He is a good man,” Hannah replied. “I am embarrassed now of being frightened of him.” She shook her head and then looked up at her mother. “I imagine now would be a good time to explain my reasons for leaving the house.”

  Beginning with her previous encounter with Connor, she explained how she had lied to Isabel about the dog and ended with how she found her way to the alleyway this night to find Albert waiting in the shadows.

  “I do not know how he came to be in the alley,” she said. “Or how he knew I would go outside.”

  “He was wearing servants clothing,” John said thoughtfully.
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br />   Hannah’s eyes widened. “Then it was he who was pursuing me through the servants’ hall and not Connor,” she exclaimed. “I wondered how it was the staff had no lights lit; he must have snuffed them all out beforehand.” She shivered at the thought, and John placed a hand on hers.

  “I overheard a footman mention the lack of lighting,” John said. He sighed. “As I said before, I am glad I decided to follow you.”

  “You were about to explain how that came about,” Hannah said.

  “Oh, yes. I saw you and he walking down the footpath, but it did not take me long to realize that you were not pleased to be in his company.” His face reddened. “I must admit, it was not until you screamed that I made that realization, and for that I am truly sorry. I should have known immediately that something was amiss, something far more sinister than you running off with another man.” He turned to Hannah. “I was not aware of the passage through the hedges, so when I found you both had disappeared, I ran past it. I found the main entrance to the park, and it was only luck that I had decided to enter.”

  Hannah shuddered at the memory of Albert and his actions. “When I heard you call my name, I could not believe you had found me. I thought I would never see you again.”

  “I would never let that happen,” John said.

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Seeing how the night’s events are most unusual,” she said as she rose from her chair, “I shall allow the two of you to speak in private. For a few minutes only, mind you. I will be outside the door.”

  When the door clicked closed, John took her hand in his. “Before you say anything, I have a confession to make. I must explain about the person I was.”

  “There is no need,” Hannah replied. “I know who you are now.”

  “No, there is a need. You see, I was a rogue and cared for the feelings of no one. I never thought I would fall in love, or attend the theater, or bother to read a book. Until I met you.” He kissed her hand. “When I told you I loved you, I spoke the truth. The woman you met the other night, Mary? I swear she has no more feelings for me than I have for her. She will return to the man she does love, Lord Laskey, which in turn has allowed me to return to the woman I love. If she will have me, that is.”

  Hannah could not stop her heart from soaring at his words, and she nodded. “I was angry about your past, to be sure, but that night, you admitted what had happened, and I ignored it. I believe now that you have changed and the man before me is the man I love. The man who protects and cares for me. I can imagine myself with no one else.”

  “Nor can I.” He reached into his coat pocket. “I know it may not be the most appropriate place, such as the circus…”

  Hannah laughed and then gasped when he produced a small box. She inched it open, her hands shaking in the process, and inside she found a ring.

  “This ring symbolizes my love for you. The woman I wish to marry and with whom I wish to spend the rest of my life.”

  Hannah was so overcome with joy, she could only nod, and then he slipped the gold ring on her finger.

  “I do love you, Hannah.”

  “And I love you,” Hannah replied. She held her breath as his hands encircled her waist, and for the second time, they kissed. This time, however, it held more passion and confidence, for the man she kissed was the man she loved and who would soon be her husband. In his arms, she felt their love grow, if that were possible, and she had never felt more secure than she did at this moment.

  Sadly, the kiss broke, and John smiled as he brushed back a strand of her hair. “I think it would be appropriate if you told your mother,” he said.

  She nodded. “Yes, I believe it would be.”

  As they rose, however, the door opened, and her mother entered. There was much more to tell this night, and as they shared the good news with her mother, Hannah could not help but be astounded in the upheaval of the day. What had begun as a night of horror had ended in love, and Hannah knew with all her heart, love would always remain.

  ***

  Hannah studied her reflection in the large standing mirror. How strange to feel as if she had aged years in one single night. Even the face that stared back at her seemed older somehow. A girl one day and a woman the next. A woman who had misjudged not one, but two men. Nay, three. Connor, who only wished to express his regrets for his previous treatment of her. John, who had a past that haunted him but who had changed significantly because of her.

  And Albert, who she now realized did not truly love her but loved the idea of being a wealthy man of the ton. She suspected that he chose her simply because she would be an easy prey. A weak woman who desired a life that was not her own. She had been just as willing to use him as he was her, that was what saddened her the most. And terrified her.

  No, she could not concentrate on the past, for it was gone. Connor had set straight his part and had thankfully bowed out, and Albert would pay for his crimes. He would not enjoy prison, and she hoped they would never release him.

  Now was the time to consider the future. A future with John. She would be married soon, and her family would be happy for her. A smile formed on her lips as she thought of what would be and the celebrations they would share.

  A knock at the door had her throw her dressing gown over her nightdress, and her mother entered the room.

  “How are you feeling?” her mother asked with a smile.

  “Much better, thank you,” Hannah replied. “I am safe.” She held up her hand to show the ring. “And engaged to be married.”

  Her mother gave a small laugh. “So you are.” She sighed. “Come. Sit with me.”

  They walked to the chest at the end of the bed and sat down on it together. Hannah could not help but eye the journal her mother held in her hand.

  Her mother seemed to notice, for she placed the book in her lap and patted the cover. “Albert mentioned this to me. Did he tell you what it contained?”

  “Secrets,” Hannah replied. “He said the secrets inside would destroy you and everyone in Scarlett Hall. I know it is a lie.”

  Her mother sighed. “I’m afraid it is not a lie. Our home holds many secrets, and although I have tried desperately to keep them close to my heart in order to keep them from you and your siblings, it seems they have a way of breaking free.”

  Hannah frowned. “I do not understand,” she said. “What secrets could there possibly be? What Albert said cannot be the truth.”

  Her mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she said, “You recall I told you of my love of writing?”

  Hannah nodded. “I do.”

  “It was that love of writing that I see in you, but it is the reason I wished you to keep your distance from Albert.” She shook her head and stared across the room with unfocused eyes, as if staring into the past. “There are many like him in this world—men who are evil. I have kept this secret close to my heart for so long, but now I must share it with you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Scarlett Hall, July 1791

  Every Tuesday during the summer months was exactly the same, which was perfectly fine with Lady Eleanor Lambert. The day began with Priscilla, the nanny, taking the three girls out for an afternoon walk and a picnic lunch. The servants were in town completing whatever errands that needed to be done, and her husband, Charles, was off attending to business. This left Eleanor alone to do what she loved best - writing.

  It had not been easy to convince Charles to allow her to take on such an activity, for no lady of the ton would ever admit to writing anything beyond a few lines of poetry. However, after promising the man countless times that she would never tell a living soul about how she enjoyed spending her time alone, he allowed it.

  It had been her dream since childhood to put to paper the many stories that swirled around in her head, and this book would be her first of many. She hoped to publish her stories—under a pseudonym of course. Perhaps she would even see her story in a bookstore in London one day!

  “
Eleanor.”

  She started and turned to see Charles standing in the doorway, Forbes, their young new butler at his side. Charles had a temper, which seemed to grow shorter each day, but she could not help but still adore the man.

  “Forbes will accompany me into town today,” Charles said. “Do not forget dinner will be an hour later than usual.”

  She nodded. “I will not.”

  “Good. The professor has arrived, as well.”

  Eleanor smiled. Professor Archibald Downing, a man nearing forty years of age, was tall and thin and had a regal stance about him, as if he knew his worth. He had been employed as Eleanor’s writing tutor, a gift from Charles several months earlier as a means to keep her busy when he was away on his many excursions for business.

  “Lady Lambert,” the man said with a stiff bow, a book clutched in his hand at his side. “Have you read the poetry I requested?” His voice reminded her of a headmaster demanding the best from his pupils.

  “I have,” Eleanor replied with a wide smile. “It was beautiful.”

  “It takes a special person to see such things,” he said. “I am pleased with your progress thus far.”

  Eleanor could not help but beam at the man’s words, but Charles simply snorted and left the room, Forbes following behind him.

  “May I sit?” the professor asked.

  Eleanor shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Forgive me,” she replied. “Please, sit wherever you wish.” She went to the couch, and her heart skipped a beat when Professor Downing took the place beside her. Typically, he sat in the chair across from her, or stood over her as she sat at the writing desk. In honesty, she found the closeness a bit awkward; however, she said nothing, for he was her tutor, not some suitor who had come calling.

  “Now, let us continue where we left off last week,” Professor Downing said. “Recite.”

  Eleanor nodded, took a deep breath, and began to recite the poem they had been learning. “‘My heart is consumed with passion for my love.’”

 

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