Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6

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Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6 Page 1

by Jennifer Monroe




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Secrets of Scarlett Hall Series

  Offer

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  Defiant Brides Series

  Regency Hearts Series

  Vows of Honor

  Secrets of Scarlett Hall

  Book 6

  Jennifer Monroe

  Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Monroe

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Whispers of Light

  Echoes of the Heart

  Voices of Shadows Past

  Silent Dreams

  Songs of Yesterday

  Vows of Honor

  Would you like to receive a free ebook? Go to www.jennifermonroeromance.com and get yours today!

  Chapter One

  Miss Amelia Parker had never been more terrified in all her life. What caused her such distress was not the blue gown she wore, made by the hands of the skilled seamstress who had come to Chatterly Estate to take her measurements a month prior. Nor was it the ruby ring that glinted on her finger, a strange addition to her attire after years of hands free of any jewelry. And, although her hair was typically tied back and covered with a mob cap, her fashionably styled hair did not frighten her.

  Little about the newness of her life was what left her shaking in the new kid slippers that were softer than anything she had ever owned. Rather it was her grandmother, a hunched woman who currently sat in her favorite red-clothed chair, her gnarled hand gripping her walking stick as if it would leave without her if she removed her hand.

  “You have been given a chance to redeem yourself,” her grandmother said. “Do you wish to do so?”

  The truth was Amelia wanted nothing to do with her grandmother, and she certainly had no desire to please her. Despite this, she did fear for her mother’s safety, so she nodded agreement.

  The old woman narrowed her eyes. “Speak up, child. I know your mother has given you lessons in private.” A sly smile crossed her lips, adding to Amelia’s agitation.

  Amelia thought her heart would explode. Since she could remember, her mother had taught her how to carry herself like a lady, how to read and write, and how to speak with eloquence and articulation. Of course, she had hidden her abilities from her grandmother, or so she had thought, but it was clear the old woman was aware of that offense.

  For all her life, Amelia had been a servant at Chatterly Estate, as had been her mother. Miss Emmeline Parker had not begun her life as a servant, but after committing her sin, she had been forced into servitude, condemning not only herself but her child as well to a life far different from that which her mother had lived beforehand.

  A bright child, Amelia had learned to listen carefully and to speak little, at least in the presence of her grandmother, but she gathered what courage she could muster and spoke.

  “What you say is true,” she said. “I have been taught everything a lady must know to be a part of society. I am able to read and interpret poetry, discuss a variety of topics, and present myself in a respectable manner. All this I have learned to do with grace and dignity.” Although her tone carried no anxiety, she thought that perhaps her throat would close off any air attempting to reach her lungs she was so nervous!

  Rather than being impressed, her grandmother laughed as she adjusted the black shawl wrapped around her thin frame. “Dignity?” the old woman repeated, her mouth twisting around the word as if she had bitten into a lime. “Do you believe you have any such thing, child? I tell you that you have not. As to your ‘secret lessons’, it was I who allowed your mother to believe she was sneaking books away. It was also I who allowed other servants to give you what you would need for writing—quills, ink, and parchment. And do you know why?”

  Having used what little courage she possessed, Amelia shook her head.

  “It was because I knew a day like this would come. A day when you reached eighteen and would become finally a valuable asset to this estate. Like your mother, your beauty is great, and that will serve well in increasing my wealth.”

  Amelia’s stomach churned. “I-I do not understand,” she whispered.

  To her surprise, her grandmother motioned her to the couch. Never before had she been invited to sit in the old woman’s presence. She did as the old woman said, her grandmother’s piercing blue eyes staring at her. The woman was cruel, and those eyes only added to her malevolence, making Amelia shiver.

  “It is the reason I asked the dressmaker to make that gown,” her grandmother said. “And why I put that ring on your finger. You will meet a gentleman tonight, an old family friend whose wife died many years ago. He wishes for a young bride, and I wish to increase my estate. It is quite simple, really.” She gave a deep maniacal laugh. “Perhaps you are not as clever as you believe.”

  Amelia shook her head as the realization of her grandmother’s wishes became evident. “I cannot marry just anyone,” she managed to say, distraught at the idea. “I know nothing about this man. Furthermore, I do not wish to leave Mother here alone.”

  “You will do as you are told, child,” her grandmother snapped, clearly finding speaking in a cordial tone taxing. “If not, your mother will find her life worse than that of a servant. Do you now understand me? Or is this, too, beyond your comprehension?”

  The subtle warning made Amelia’s blood run cold. “Yes,” she whispered. “I understand.” In truth, Amelia understood all too well the types of punishments her grandmother could inflict. Too many meals withheld. Too many days spent locked away in the wine cellar.

  “If my guest asks,” her grandmother said, “you will inform him that you have been residing in London. Whatever he asks of you, you will agree. To anger him will anger me, which in turn will bring down punishment onto your mother.”

  Fighting back tears, Amelia smoothed her skirts. What a beautiful gown it was, the first like it she had ever worn. Her typical garb consisted of livery made of burlap — “You do not deserve linen,” her grandmother was wont to say — yet the fabric, nor the jewel on her finger, did little to ease the pain in her heart.

  “And if I do please you and this gentleman this evening?” Amelia asked, stoking her courage. “What then? What will happen to Mother?”

  The old woman sighed. “You must understand that your mother will never leave this estate no matter what anyone does on her behalf,” she said. “Her past grievances are unworthy of a pardon. However, I can see you will want some sort of incentive.
Very well, I will see that her duties are lightened. Will that suffice?”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Amelia nodded in reply. She glanced at the window behind her grandmother. The sun had not yet set, but by the time it did, her life will have changed. Preparing for this evening, her mother had given no inclination of what was to happen, but Amelia had seen the worry in the woman’s eyes.

  The door opened, making Amelia start. Barton, butler to Chatterly Estate, entered. “Lord Leeson, Viscount of Emsford.”

  An old man perhaps only a few years younger than her grandmother pushed past the butler, nothing remaining of his hair color of his younger years — unless he had gone gray at a young age — and Amelia doubted she had ever seen eyes as dark and menacing.

  “Ah, Lord Leeson,” her grandmother said as she allowed the man to kiss her hand. “I am so pleased you called. May I present my granddaughter, Miss Amelia Parker.”

  Amelia, who had risen when the man entered, fell into a perfect curtsy fit for royalty. “My lord,” she said.

  The man curled his lip. With the fire blazing behind him, Amelia thought the devil himself had appeared. She glanced at the old woman beside him. No, no one was as evil as her grandmother.

  Lord Leeson turned eyes on Amelia. “Ah, yes, a flawless beauty, just as you promised.” He leaned in to study her face. She felt like a horse being inspected for purchase. “A fascinating shade of blue,” he murmured with appreciation. “I have never seen eyes like them before.” When he brushed a thumb across her cheek, she had to swallow back bile. “She appears healthy and capable. Yes, she will suffice to warm my cold bed.” He turned back to her grandmother, although his hand remained on her face. “I cannot, however, part with the estate in Norfolk.”

  Her grandmother laughed. “There are others who will give all we discussed and more,” she said as if it made little difference to her. “If you are unwilling to pay the price upon which we agreed, I see no reason for you to remain. Tell me, have you seen a more worthy bride?”

  Amelia had once overheard merchants haggling with prospective buyers in much the same way, and she wished nothing more than to run from the room. She did not, however; the price would have been much worse than the humiliation she endured for these few moments.

  “I admit that she is unique,” Lord Leeson said. “She may be my best acquisition yet.” He removed his hand from her face, and Amelia stifled a sigh of relief. “My son is long since married, and the desire to have more children intrigues me.” He traced his tongue across his lips. “Very well, I agree to your terms and the conditions set forth.”

  “Then your fiancé will be waiting here for you,” her grandmother said. “I have little patience and expect you to return with a vicar and the marriage license within the month.”

  “I will leave at once to begin the paperwork,” the viscount said as he shook her grandmother’s hand. He bowed to each of them, gave Amelia one last appreciate gaze, and hummed as he left the room.

  When he was gone, her grandmother pulled herself from the chair, leaning heavily on her cane to do so, and hobbled toward Amelia.

  Amelia wanted to scream, to run and hide, but she knew she could do nothing. Her grandmother had a tight hold on not only Amelia and her mother, but her Uncle Josiah, as well. According to her mother, Uncle Josiah had been kind once, but now he was as cruel as Amelia’s grandmother.

  “Do not despair,” her grandmother said with a light cackle. “Lord Leeson will buy you pretty dresses and fine jewelry, and in return, you will serve his needs.” She paused and tilted her head. “Are you not happy?” She seemed surprised, which Amelia found odd. Did the old woman not see what she was asking of her?

  “I am…” Amelia paused. What she wished to say would only bring about her grandmother’s ire and would cause her and her mother more problems, so she changed what she meant to say. “I am thankful for what you have done for me.”

  Her mother grinned, a strange expression on the otherwise stern features. “Go to your room and tell your mother the good news. Let her know that her daughter has not taken herself to a man’s bed before marriage. Tomorrow you may dine with me as a reward for your good behavior.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother,” Amelia said before hurrying to see her mother.

  ***

  The tiny room within the servants’ quarter, the place Amelia had always called home, had two single beds with a small stand between them. They were fortunate, for they had a small window that looked over the gardens. Many of the rooms in which the servants lived had no window at all, so to have such a view was an added perquisite.

  Amelia sat on her bed across from her mother as she relayed the events that had taken place not ten minutes earlier.

  “Grandmother wishes that I marry the man,” she said, fighting back tears. “I do not want to, but if it means that she does not hurt you, I will.”

  Her mother stood wearing that familiar and kind smile Amelia had always adored. Even in times of trouble, her mother had such great courage, Amelia could not help but admire her. Amelia had her mother’s dark hair and striking blue eyes, and she believed no other woman matched the beauty her mother possessed.

  “I knew this day would come,” her mother said with a sigh. “I feared it for so long, but it also brings me relief.”

  Amelia stared at her mother in shock. “You mean to say you are happy that I must marry Lord Leeson?”

  “No, my sweet child,” her mother replied, brushing back Amelia’s hair. “The day has arrived for which you will use all I have taught you. And now, this very night, you will leave Chatterly Estate and go to your Aunt Eleanor’s, taking with you that knowledge.”

  Amelia’s eyes widened. “I cannot leave!” she whispered, fearing someone might be listening at the door. “Grandmother will not allow it, and she promised trouble for you if I do not marry this man.”

  “Your grandmother is old,” her mother said. “I believe her days are numbered. Do you not see it in her speech and actions? Both have slowed considerably.” She rose to light a candle as the last rays of sun dimmed around them. “There is hope that she can change, as I believe there is for Josiah. Yes, she will be angry, but we have endured her wrath before. You will not marry this man, or any man, unless you wish to do so. Not as long as I draw breath.”

  A tear rolled down Amelia’s cheek. “I would rather marry Lord Leeson than see you suffer,” she said, sniffling.

  “I know this,” her mother replied with a smile. “And that is why I want you to leave. I cannot think of you living in misery with someone you do not love. You have so much to give, and no one should be forced to endure such a life.”

  “I understand, although I do not like it.” Amelia furrowed her brow. “Where does Aunt Eleanor live?”

  “She lives in Rumsbury, a village in Wiltshire. I have told you many stories about my sister. And despite the fact we have not spoken to one another in a very long time, she is a good woman and will take care of you. I know she will.”

  Amelia nodded and hugged her mother. If this is what the woman wished, she would honor it. “I will miss you.”

  “And I shall miss you, too,” her mother said. “Now, we must make preparations for your departure. However, you cannot leave dressed like that. It will draw too many eyes. It will be better if you make your way unnoticed.”

  Amelia glanced down at the lovely gown. “What am I to wear?”

  “Change back into your day clothes as I explain what you are to do. Whatever you do, you must not draw any unwanted attention to yourself during your journey to Rumsbury.”

  Doing as her mother bade, Amelia listened as she changed into the familiar livery. Her mother’s plan was simple. Amelia would leave through the window and make her way to the village. There, she would find lodgings at the public inn, where she would remain until morning. She was to hire a carriage to take her to Rumsbury.

  “You will be easily found if you take a coach,” her mother explained. “Once you arrive at Scarle
tt Hall, I know my sister will welcome you. I want you to listen to her wisdom and do as she says.”

  “And you?” Amelia asked as her mother opened a drawer in the stand. “What will you do?”

  Her mother placed a journal and a letter in Amelia’s hand. “I will remain here and continue to speak to Josiah when I can. There is good in him, I am sure of it, as there is in your grandmother, so I will do what I can to uncover it.”

  Amelia felt anger stir in her heart. “Why do you give them chances when they do not deserve it?” she demanded. “To force you to live and work here as a servant when you are a lady is wrong! I am the mistake, not you.”

  “You are not a mistake,” her mother said, her voice filled with sorrow. She placed a hand on Amelia’s arm. “You do not truly believe that, do you?”

  Amelia sighed. “No.”

  The truth was at times she could not help but feel guilty for being the product of her mother’s indiscretions. Amelia was a bastard, plain and simple, a fact of which her grandmother reminded her daily. She would never escape that truth, even if she left Chatterly Estate.

  “I do believe I am a burden to you,” Amelia said.

  “You have never been a burden,” her mother said, placing fingers on Amelia’s chin and forcing her to look at her. “Only a joy. Regarding your uncle, I do remember when he was joyful, but because our mother hardened his heart, he does not see it.” Amelia went to respond, to say that her uncle could never have been like that, but the woman forestalled her. “Trust me in this. But do not worry, we will soon be reunited, for I will go to Scarlett Hall once I have completed here what I must.”

  “Very well,” Amelia said, although she still doubted her mother’s words. She looked down at the items her mother had given her. “And these?”

  “They are for your Aunt Eleanor. You must warn her that danger is coming to her soon. Tell her to read both the journal and the letter, and she will understand. However, she must know that danger is close.”

  “What danger?” Amelia asked.

 

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