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

by Jennifer Monroe

  The idea was tempting. “I…do not know.”

  “This child is a gift. One I cannot support, but you can. It is a gift from my heart that can heal yours.”

  Eleanor nodded, the thought of gaining her lost child more appealing with each passing moment. “You could never tell a soul. If Robert were to return and find you with no child…”

  “He will not ever hear it from me,” Anne insisted. “It is your child, if you will have it.”

  It was a risky endeavor, and Eleanor knew that if Charles or anyone were to learn of it, the lives of the child and Eleanor’s other daughters would be ruined. However, God’s hand had to be in this, for He had sent her a replacement child. “I will do this,” she said with finality before wrapping her arms around the woman. “I promise I will love the child as my own.”

  “I have no doubt you will, my lady,” Anne replied. “I ask just one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “In the years to come, if the time ever arises, let the child know that I loved him or her and that I only wanted what was best.”

  Eleanor smiled. “I promise,” she whispered. “Tonight, you will leave for a cottage we have on our property that is currently not in use. You will be safe there, for no one ventures there.”

  “I will collect my things,” Anne said with another embrace and then a quick curtsy.

  After the woman left the room, Eleanor returned to the table where she had placed her glass. Her heart had been filled with pain with the death of her child, but for the first time in a month, that pain began to subside, and it had not been wine that had brought her relief.

  ***

  The cottage sat alone amongst a thick covering of trees as Eleanor stepped from the carriage. Her usual driver had not been used on this journey, but rather it was the young butler, Forbes. He seemed much more trustworthy, and she was in no condition to take the carriage on her own, or so she appeared with the large pillow under her dress.

  A gentle breeze blew Eleanor’s hair as Forbes closed the door of the carriage. Besides Anne, who was inside the cottage, only the butler knew her identity, and it was of the utmost importance that she had his trust. Not even the midwife knew who she was.

  “This journey to my mother’s,” Eleanor said, holding her hand against the padded bulge, “is of no concern to anyone except my husband. And the stop at this home…”

  “Is none of my concern,” Forbes replied. “I know of many ladies who often visit cousins and other relatives, and some do not have the same means as they.” The butler dipped his head. “In fact, I do not recall even stopping anywhere save your mother’s house.”

  Relieved, Eleanor nodded and turned to walk toward the cottage when the door burst open and a girl of perhaps ten rushed outside.

  “Miss! It’s happenin’”

  Eleanor hurried down the path and she heard Anne’s groans from outside. The butler was no fool, and she hoped he would ask no questions. All she could do was trust him.

  The cottage had a small kitchen, a sitting room, and two small bedrooms. Why Charles bought the place, she did not know, nor did she care. Her only concern at the moment was the woman hunched over the splayed legs of the woman who had once been her lady’s maid.

  “You are here,” Anne said, sweat dripping from her brow and her breathing heavy.

  Eleanor rushed to the woman’s side and took her hand. “I am.”

  “I am so glad you came.” Anne leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes.

  “You knew I would,” Eleanor said with a smile.

  Anne gripped her hand with a sudden gasp. Soon, Eleanor was speaking encouraging words. She had birthed two girls already, so she knew what Anne was enduring, but it did not make it any easier to watch.

  “You are doing well,” Eleanor said.

  Anne cried out, held her breath, and then grunted. Then the most beautiful of things happened. The wail of a child filled the room, a sound that rang in Eleanor’s heart. The midwife placed the babe on Anne’s bare stomach, and Anne squeezed Eleanor’s hand.

  “You have done well,” Eleanor whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Anne’s forehead.

  “It is a girl,” the midwife said as she took the baby and washed her in warm water before swaddling her, her head full of dark hair the only part of the babe to be seen.

  Eleanor took the baby in her arms. “She is beautiful,” she said.

  When she looked up at Anne, the woman lay with her eyes closed. “She is,” Anne said. “And I know she’ll be happy and well-loved, and I couldn’t wish more for her.”

  With a smile, Eleanor began to rock the lively bundle, and the baby calmed. “She will be my daughter, treated as an equal to her older sisters. I promise she will find happiness in life.”

  Anne gave her a weak smile. “I have no doubt you’ll make her very happy.”

  The woman could not have said anything truer. Eleanor already loved the child as if she was her own. “Her name is Juliet, and I will do everything I can for her.” She took Anne’s hand. “You have given me the most wondrous of gifts, and I will never forget you for it.” She handed her a purse. “This is everything I have saved.” When Anne attempted to push the purse away, Eleanor gave the maid a firm glare. “No, you must take it. You will need money until you find a new position. I wish you would come back to Scarlett Hall, but I understand how difficult that would be for you.”

  “I don’t know where I’ll go next, but this will help. Thank you.”

  Eleanor remained at Anne’s side, the bond between them bringing them that much closer, until the hour grew late and Anne glanced toward the window. “You should go; it won’t be safe if you travel after dark.” She grabbed Eleanor’s hand. “I’ll never forget you.”

  With a firm squeeze of her hand, Eleanor replied, “And I shall never forget you, my dear friend.” She leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek before heading toward the door.

  Stopping with her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back and the two exchanged a smile, one that would remain in Eleanor’s heart forever, for she never saw her friend again.

  ***

  The days became weeks, the weeks became a month, and a letter arrived announcing that Charles was to arrive in three days.

  With Juliet cradled in her arms, Eleanor kissed the soft tuft of dark hair on her daughter’s head. “You are the most beautiful gift I have ever received,” she whispered. “And you will always have a special place in my heart.”

  Footsteps from the hallway made her look up. Charles entered the room, a wide grin on his face. “My child!” he exclaimed as he hurried to her side. He gave Eleanor a small kiss and knelt beside her, and her love for him grew. She pulled back the blanket so he could see the baby. “She has my hair color,” he said with pride. “And my eyes!”

  “She is her father’s child,” she replied. “Do you wish to hold her?”

  He nodded and took Juliet into his arms, the child gurgling with clear pleasure. “Juliet. Named after my mother,” he said. “This child is special; do you not feel it?”

  “Yes, she most certainly is,” Eleanor said as she pulled herself up from the chair to stand at his side. She placed a hand on his arm and gazed down at their daughter. “I know she has filled a special place in my heart.”

  And the words could not have been truer.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “That is why you have always had, and always will, have a special place in my heart.”

  Juliet stood in shock doing everything she could to comprehend what her mother had just revealed. Who was she? She was no longer the person she thought she was all her life, a woman of better blood, the child of title who came from an affluent lineage generations long.

  Now, however, she was the daughter of servants—a man who was once a gardener and a lady’s maid. She looked up at the woman she had called Mother all her life and could not find words to think let alone speak. All she felt was shame and humiliation. How could anyon
e love her now?

  Yet, the woman who birthed her, had she not had Juliet’s own interests at heart? Juliet would never have lived the life she had as the daughter of a woman of the working class. Where would she be now if her real mother had not made such a decision?

  “I know this is overwhelming to hear, but you must understand that you are my daughter. Nothing will ever change that.”

  With surprise, Juliet looked at her mother. “I…you still love me although I now know the truth?”

  Her mother responded by throwing her arms around Juliet. “My sweet child, I love you more than you will ever know. Although I am not the woman who gave birth to you, I hope you love me as your mother as I have loved you as if you were my own child.”

  Juliet sobbed into the woman’s shoulder. How could she consider this woman as someone other than her mother? “You are my mother, and I am thankful that you raised me. I hold no anger to my…birth mother. I understand why she did what she did.”

  Her mother held her at arm’s length. “She loved you, you know.”

  “What was she like?”

  Pushing back a strand of Juliet’s hair, she smiled. “She was beautiful, strong, and raging with a fire much like yours. It is from her you get your spiritedness.”

  Although a thousand questions swam in her mind, those concerning Robert rose to the top.

  “How did Robert,” she was not ready to think of him as her father, “learn of all this?”

  Her mother sighed. “The last time he was here, he explained that he found work two years ago, and Anne happened to be a lady’s maid there. She had fallen gravely ill, and it was on her deathbed that she revealed the truth.”

  “But why would she do that? She had promised!”

  “I do not know,” her mother replied. “She always saw the good in people, so perhaps she thought he had a change of heart. He may have manipulated her into believing so.”

  Juliet nodded, but anger rose to push down her shock. “So, this man came in search of his daughter, but rather than introducing himself to me, he used the information to blackmail you. He attempted to ruin not only you but my sisters, as well.”

  “Yes,” her mother replied. “I am afraid that is the truth of it. I wanted to protect you from him, for I knew how twisted the man’s lies could be.”

  Juliet studied the woman. Her mother was strong, a woman who rarely cried, at least not where others could witness it. Yet, her eyes were red and filled with tears, and Juliet knew much of her distress came from what that man had done to her—or at least attempted to do.

  “What will you do concerning him?” She would not use his name; he was unworthy of such courtesy!

  “I will continue to pay him. There is nothing more I can do.”

  Juliet walked over and poured them each a drink. Taking a long sip from her glass, her mind began to race. Her true father was alive, but the man had attempted to pit her against the woman she knew as her mother. The thought of her mother suffering because of him made her anger turn into rage.

  “You cannot pay the man forever,” Juliet said finally. “His price will only increase until he has run you…run all of us…into the ground.”

  Her mother gave a contemptuous chuckle. “It already has caused us a considerable amount of trouble. The man is mad. He has asked for my hand in marriage—has demanded it.”

  Juliet shook her head. “His greed runs deep,” she whispered. A new thought came to mind. “I now realize I have been fooled in more ways than one.” She sighed. “I have been investing in his business, as has Annabel and some of our friends. I have fallen for his lies and led them right into it.”

  “Investing?”

  “He approached me first…” She explained everything, including Robert’s plan to open new shops. “I cannot believe I fell for his lies.” A new sense of shame came over her as she realized she would now lose everything she had given him, as would the others who had trusted her.

  “He is a gifted storyteller,” her mother said. “A palterer of the highest caliber.”

  Juliet clicked her tongue. “Wooing women into his bed,” she murmured. “To trick a lady into handing over her savings.” She looked at her mother, a sadness overwhelming her. “I see now from where my ability to tell stories come. Of all the attributes I could have received from him…It sickens me.”

  Her mother hurried over to her and embraced her once more. “Your stories have always been delightful. If you use them for good, there is no harm in their telling.”

  Juliet snorted. “Like him, I have only used them for my own benefit. Mother, do you believe he has any good in him?”

  Her mother’s frown was answer enough. “Even after nineteen years, the man has not changed, so I would hazard to suspect that he does not.”

  Juliet nodded, downed the remainder of her brandy in one gulp and placed the glass on the cart. “I will see if there is,” she said firmly. “I love you, Mother, and if I have ever disappointed you in any way, I am sorry.”

  Her mother smiled. “You could never disappoint me.” She kissed Juliet’s cheek. “I love you. Tomorrow, if you wish, we may talk more about this, especially any questions you have concerning your mother, if you would like.”

  Juliet nodded again. “I would like that.” She kissed her mother. “Good night.”

  “Good night, my dear.”

  Juliet left the room and headed toward the main staircase. From the bottom step, she gazed upwards. How many times had she come down those stairs in a new dress, her hair perfectly styled and her jewelry in place, believing she was better than most? Although her true parents were not of title or wealth, it did not matter, for her heart had changed. She had already begun viewing those around her as equals, and although the news she learned this night numbed her, she felt a sense of joy. It was nothing like other women, for she had two mothers. And although she had never met the woman who had given birth to her, she loved her all the same.

  ***

  That night, Juliet lay beneath the blanket thinking of her past. She thought of the mother she never knew, a woman who had chosen to see her daughter have the best life had to offer. What a loving gesture!

  Yet, her father was different. How had he become so evil? As far as she was concerned, her mother, the woman who had raised her as her own, was in trouble, and it was up to Juliet to confront him and convince him to stop the blackmailing.

  A light tap on the door made Juliet start. “Come in,” she called out in a loud whisper.

  Annabel entered, closing the door with a soft click behind her. The girl had been quiet all day, and Juliet had been so upset over her own situation, she felt a twinge of guilt for not checking in on her before coming to bed, especially after her complaints about her stomach aching her. Annabel did not fall ill often, and Juliet certainly hoped she was not ill now.

  “May I join you?” Annabel asked.

  Juliet laughed and pulled down the blanket. “You never have to ask!” Annabel climbed in beside her. “Can you not sleep?”

  Annabel shook her head as she reached under the pillow to take out the bottle of brandy Juliet always had hidden there. Juliet laughed when the girl drank straight from the bottle.

  “I wish to tell you something,” Juliet said. What would Annabel think when she learned the truth about her?

  “As do I,” Annabel whispered. “But I am afraid you will be angry with me.” She lifted the bottle to lips once more, and Juliet began to worry. Her cousin was not ill, but something was most definitely wrong.

  “Tell me. I promise not to be angry with you. You could never anger me.”

  Annabel nodded and looked down at her hands. “When Robert sent you to run to collect the stationary, I remained to work on the ledgers.”

  “Yes, I remember. What of it?”

  “He told me…” She looked up at Juliet, and the fear in her eyes made Juliet push back against the pillows. “He told me he had a surprise for me, for my birthday.”

  Juliet attemp
ted to calm her racing heart. “And what did he do?”

  Annabel’s eyes welled with tears. “He kissed me.”

  “He what!” Juliet asked, coming close to vaulting from the bed. She had to take a calming breath. “I am sorry, for shouting. What happened after?”

  “When I told him I didn’t want it, he grew angry. He told me that unless I wanted to lose my investment and not have you angry at me, I would have to allow him to kiss me whenever he wanted.” The last came as a sob, and Juliet pulled her cousin in close. “I am so sorry!”

  “You did nothing wrong,” Juliet said, the now familiar anger rising within her. “I am not angry at you.”

  “You are not?” Annabel asked in clear surprise.

  “Not at all.” Juliet wiped the tears from Annabel’s cheeks. “In two days, I will speak with Robert. And I promise you, he will never bother you again.” Annabel smiled, and Juliet gave her another hug.

  That man had ruined countless lives through lies, blackmail and now coercion. Well, he had hurt her precious Annabel, her cousin and her best friend. “No one hurts my family, especially my Annabel.”

  Annabel sniffled. “Thank you. I wish I was as strong as you.”

  Juliet snorted. “I am not strong,” she said, taking the bottle and downing a large gulp. “Not like you.”

  Annabel smiled and wiped at her eyes. “Thank you.”

  Juliet’s heart went out to the young woman who, after enduring what her parents put her through, had been forced to suffer the forwardness of a man such as Robert. A man who was her father. “Let us speak of happier things to lift our spirits,” she said. She would do whatever she could to keep Annabel’s spirits high.

  “Like what?”

  “Like what we are going to do next season when all the gentlemen of the ton are fighting over you,” Juliet said with a wide grin, making Annabel laugh. “I still believe I should sell you at an auction.”

  Annabel slapped Juliet’s arm, but she was laughing as much as Juliet. “You are terrible!” When the laughter had died down, she said, “I must admit, I am excited for the parties.”

  They talked late into the night, and although Juliet laughed and shared her stories, her mind continuously returned to Robert. The man who had ruined lives had to be stopped, and she, Juliet, would be the one to do it.