Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6

by Jennifer Monroe

  Of course, marriage would still be some time off; they had so much to learn about one another, after all. It would only happen when they both were ready. She giggled. If he asked her today, she would readily accept!

  When Christopher had called on Friday, she had seen the inner turmoil he endured, and his excuse to leave had left her in shock at its suddenness. Well, today she would take the initiative and tell him what she truly felt.

  Smiling, she retrieved her gloves from the vanity table and donned them. Not only did she need to express her true feelings for him…

  Love! She was in love! How she wanted to laugh, to traipse about, to fly!

  Shaking her head, she returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. Today she must be honest with who she truly was and from where she came. It was the one last obstacle between them that she needed to remove, to explain her place at Chatterly Estate, the story of her birth, and her reason for leaving the home of her grandmother.

  Although she was glad to tell him, a part of her worried. Would he accept her once he learned the truth? That she had been nothing more than a servant in the household after all? She gulped. That her father had not died but rather that he was a man who had refused to marry her mother after she became with child? That would be the more difficult point to share.

  That she was a bastard might be a truth he refused to accept. What if he rejected her? Tossed her aside? What if he broke her heart?

  No! She could not allow her mind to think such thoughts.

  “He will accept me for who I am,” she whispered to her reflection. “And I am a lady no matter who my father was.” A small voice in the back of her mind told her she was foolish for believing this was true, for who one’s father was had everything to do with whether or not a woman was a lady. She shoved the voice into a far corner and refused to listen. He loved her, she was certain. Once she explained everything, he would not care, for his love for her was that great.

  “Yes, I am a lady,” she said more firmly.

  “And a Parker.”

  Amelia turned to find her aunt Eleanor standing in the doorway. “I assume you will tell him today.”

  Amelia nodded. “I will. I decided that it was time. If we wish to have a strong relationship from the beginning, it must begin with honesty. I must have honor if I am to have anything and being truthful can bring me that honor. I hope you do not mind.”

  “Not at all,” her aunt replied. “You are now courting, and if you plan to marry this man, it would be for the best he knows now.”

  With a giggle, Amelia said, “I do not know about marriage.” When her aunt raised an eyebrow, Amelia could no longer contain her excitement. “I cannot lie. I have thought about marriage quite often over the past week. I do not believe a proposal will come in the next few days, or even weeks, for we still have so much to learn about one another. However, I do see it in our future; I am certain of it.”

  Her aunt nodded. “There will always be something to learn. That is the beauty of relationships. Even after many years, you will still learn new things about one another.” She placed an arm around Amelia’s waist and stood beside her in the tall standing mirror. “You look as happy as a bride on her wedding day.”

  Amelia turned toward her aunt. “I am happy. I cannot wait to speak to Christopher today, to bare my soul to him.”

  “I am so pleased,” Aunt Eleanor said. “Is his sister to accompany him? I will be going to Isabel’s for the day, so I will not be returning until just before dinner.”

  Isabel was Aunt Eleanor’s eldest daughter, and Amelia’s cousin, although they had yet to meet. It seemed Isabel was quite busy with her first child, who was born the same day Amelia had arrived at Scarlett Hall. That had to be a good omen, did it not? It was as if her coming to Rumsbury was a rebirth of sorts for Amelia.

  “Yes, Lilias will be in attendance so you need not worry.”

  “Good luck,” her aunt said, kissing Amelia’s cheek. “I will see you later.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Eleanor,” Amelia replied.

  Once the carriage carrying her aunt rode away, Amelia went to the drawing room to wait the arrival of Christopher and his sister. She could barely keep her excitement and paced the floor like a father awaiting the birth of a child.

  The hands on the mantle clock seemed to move so slowly, she even checked to determine if it had been wound. She should have known better; Forbes never missed a day winding the clock, unless he was out, and then Mrs. Cormoth, the housekeeper, would see to it.

  She simply had to be patient. Taking a seat on the bench beside the window, she forced herself to calm. She had no need to worry; he would come.

  ***

  Ten o’clock came and went, and worry settled over Amelia. Now at half past eleven, she was outright frantic. Had Christopher been in some sort of accident along the way? Was he lying on the road hurt, or even dead? Or perhaps his father had made a turn for the worse. Whatever his reason for not keeping their appointment, she could not temper her flaring anxiety.

  Feeling as if she were suffocating, she removed her slippers, pulled on a pair of sturdy boots, donned her scarf and overcoat, and left the house. She would have to walk to Stormridge Manor — Forbes had driven Aunt Eleanor to Camellia Estates, which was Isabel’s home — and Amelia had never been on a horse before. She would rather walk than to ride one of those beasts. Even the thought sent a shiver through her greater than the cold that chilled her.

  Gray clouds filled the sky and a cold breeze attempted to pull back her bonnet. Just as she stepped off the bottom step, however, a carriage came up the drive, and relief washed over her. It was Christopher!

  The vehicle came to a stop in front of her, and Christopher leapt through the door without the aid of the step.

  “Oh, Christopher!” Amelia said as she hurried toward him, her skirts flowing around her ankles. “I was so worried!” She stopped in front of him and frowned. His coat was wrinkled as if he had slept in it, his hair was mussed and not from the wind, and his breath wreaked of liquor. “Oh, no!” she said with a gasp. “Your father!” She placed a hand on his arm. “Has something happened? Has he worsened?” She could not ask if the man was dead.

  “Nothing has changed with him,” Christopher snapped. “Unlike us.” His voice chilled her more than the wind. Something was horribly wrong.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Rather than replying, he removed a flask from his coat pocket and took a drink. Then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve like some drunkard from one of the public houses!

  “Why are you drinking so early?” she asked.

  Christopher snorted. “Servants do not question those above them,” he growled. “That is what you are, is it not?” Before she could respond, he grabbed her arm. “Tell me the truth, Amelia. Were you a servant?”

  Amelia thought her heart would leap out of her chest. His grasp hurt, but she did not attempt to pull away. “Yes,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

  He released her arm, pushing it away as if it would harm him in some way. “How I know makes little difference,” he replied. He took another swig of his drink. “And your mother? Is she truly a Parker? Not just any Parker, mind you. A member of the Parker family? Of Stratford?”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, but she made no attempt to answer. How had he learned about her? She had hoped to be the one to reveal the truth to him, and now that had been taken from her.

  “Your father never died, did he?” Christopher demanded. “That was a lie, was it not? He simply never wanted to marry your mother.”

  The horrible memories of her grandmother entered her mind.

  “You are nothing more than a bastard child, girl,” her grandmother had said on more occasions than Amelia could remember. “You are nothing without me. Do you hear me? Nothing!”

  “It is true,” she said as she studied the ground between them. “All of it. But you do not understand why I left—.”

  “Oh, I understand more than
you realize,” Christopher said, shouting so loudly, Amelia almost covered her ears. “Since the moment I met you, you have lied.”

  “No!” Amelia cried. She would not lose the one good thing that had ever happened to her. “I did lie, yes, but for good reason. Most of what I told you was true, but I had to keep secret some of my story. You see, my grandmother is a cruel woman—.”

  Christopher’s laugh cut her short. “You blame an old woman for your problems? For the fact your mother was a whore?” He gave her an incredulous look. “You were bestowed kindness by your uncle, who saw you educated despite the circumstances of your birth. Not only that, he found a gentleman willing to marry you. You promise to marry his friend and then run away? You are not the woman I thought you were.” His look of scorn seared her heart.

  “My uncle?” she asked in surprise. So, Uncle Josiah had spoken to him. “He is a liar! He was not who saw I was educated; that was my mother. She taught me everything I know, and in secret. He wanted nothing to do with me.” She grasped his arm. “The man is evil, Christopher! He threatened not only me, but my aunt, as well. He sold property he and my aunt owned jointly for penny on the pound. All to hurt her because of me!”

  Christopher looked away. “I had thought you were different, but you are not. I trusted you with my innermost secrets — my father’s wishes, the fiancée who left me. No, two! Do you understand the shame I felt in revealing that piece of information?” He shook his head in disgust. “I do not know who you are.”

  Amelia touched his hand, but he pulled away. “I am the same woman you have come to know. If you will allow me to explain why I left — the true reason I left — you will come to understand that I did what I had to do.”

  When his eyes met hers, she could not help but see the loathing he had for her. “It will make no difference,” he said in a low seething voice. “Whatever you tell me, I cannot believe. I would advise you to return to your home in Stratford. By your own admission, your presence here has only hurt your aunt and it will only hurt others, including yourself.” Without another word, Christopher turned and walked back to the carriage.

  Amelia covered her mouth to muffle the choked sob that escaped. “You must believe me!” she cried. “There is more to this story. My uncle lied to you far worse than I ever did.”

  Christopher ignored her as he entered the carriage.

  As the vehicle pulled away, Amelia collapsed to her knees just as the first drop of rain mixed with the tears on her cheeks.

  So many promised her that her past would not matter, but Amelia now understood that none of it was true. Her past not only hurt her but everyone who touched her.

  Pulling herself to a standing position, Amelia struggled to regain her breath. With heavy legs, she turned back to Scarlett Hall and stopped to look over the grand home that she had thought would change her life forever.

  What had she been thinking, playing the lady? It had all been a farce! Well, it was time that she returned to her rightful place — a servant. And if her grandmother wished her to marry Lord Leeson, perhaps doing so would end the curse that hung over her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Eleanor looked over the letter that had arrived the day before informing her that a property in London in which she had a stake had been sold. Josiah had been relentless in keeping his promise to do whatever he could to see her destroyed.

  She had lied to Forbes about how much she could lose if Josiah was to continue this travesty, but Forbes did not need to know her business. Plus, her embarrassment at the hold her brother had on her kept her lips closed tight.

  Although she loved her brother, her heart broke knowing to what lengths the man would go to hurt her. How had he come to hate her so much?

  She gave a rye laugh. That was an easy question to answer. Their mother had convinced him of her worth. Or rather her lack of worth.

  A knock came to the door, and she set the letter aside. “Come.”

  Amelia entered the room. The girl had been unusually quiet at dinner, and when Eleanor made a comment about it, Amelia claimed she was tired. Eleanor suspected it was something else altogether, for her niece refused to discuss Lord Beaumont’s visit.

  “May I speak with you?” Amelia asked.

  “Of course,” Eleanor replied, indicating one of the chairs before the fireplace. Eleanor took the one beside her. “I can see something is troubling you. Does it have to do with Lord Beaumont?”

  The girl nodded and tears filled her eyes. “I am uncertain how it came about, but it seems that Uncle Josiah told Christopher everything about me.” She twisted a lace handkerchief in her fingers. “Christopher has ended our courtship.”

  Eleanor’s heart went out to her niece, and she pulled her into her arms. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “I did not believe Josiah would go to such lengths.” She kissed the top of Amelia’s head and then sat back in her seat. “So, he knows everything?”

  Amelia nodded. “He knows I was never anything more than a servant and that I ran away from home.” She looked up sharply. “Apparently, Uncle Josiah told Christopher that it was he who gave me a chance in life. Christopher is under the impression that Uncle Josiah saw to my education and that it was he who had introduced a friend of his to me.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “He is right,” she murmured, her voice filled with defeat. “I am no lady. I am a bastard child born out of wedlock. I have no place in society.”

  “That is not true,” Eleanor chastised. “I say you are a lady and you belong here with me. You will be what I say you are and no less than that.”

  Amelia shook her head. “I am sorry, but you are wrong. I belong at Chatterly Estate and I must marry the man Grandmother has chosen for me.” She wiped at her eyes once more. “Do you not see? Uncle Josiah will continue his tirade if I do not return. He has already turned Christopher against me. If I do not do what he commands, I shall have no peace, nor will those around me.” She pursed her lips and gave Eleanor an accusatory glare. “Do not tell me that he has kept his promise to wait the thirty days, for I will know it is a lie.”

  Eleanor sighed. “No, he has not. But that problem is mine, not yours.”

  Her niece shook her head. She was as stubborn as any Parker despite her upbringing! “I know my uncle is due to call in a few days. I will leave with him, and perhaps these problems will come to an end.”

  Eleanor placed a hand on Amelia’s and gave her a small smile. “To return and do your grandmother’s bidding is a great act of kindness and shows how unselfish you truly are, but as I said before, I will deal with Josiah in my own way.”

  “But how?” Amelia asked in exasperation. “You said he would leave us be, but he clearly has not. What will change?”

  Eleanor rose and walked over to her desk. She removed the old journal that Amelia had given to her upon her arrival at Scarlett Hall. “This,” she said as she returned to her seat. “This was my mother’s journal. I had hoped its contents could remain secret, but Josiah has left me no choice.”

  “What does it contain?” Amelia asked, curiosity in her eyes as she gazed at the book.

  “The truth,” Eleanor replied simply. “The truth that will force Josiah to leave here and never return.” She sighed. “I have dealt with predicaments far more serious than what Josiah attempts to inflict on me. However, you must trust me when I say that this problem will come to an end by the end of the week.”

  Amelia sighed. “It is not that I do not believe you,” she said. “But I worry about what will happen if you fail.”

  Eleanor clicked her tongue. “I will not fail,” she said in a firm tone that belied her fluttering heart. “Now, you should go to bed, for I can see that the events of today have been trying.”

  Amelia stood. “They have,” she replied with another heavy sigh. “Thank you for all you have done for me. I am unworthy of such a benefactor.”

  “Nonsense,” Eleanor admonished. “Now, off to bed with you. We will talk more in the morning
after you have rested. And do not lose hope for Lord Beaumont. He may return.”

  The weak smile Amelia wore tore at Eleanor’s heart. “I would like to think so, but after what he knows, I doubt that is true.”

  She left the room without waiting for Eleanor to argue the point, and in all honesty, Eleanor was uncertain she could. The ton most certainly looked down upon those born out of wedlock no matter how educated they were. It was wrong in Eleanor’s opinion, but her opinion held little weight in such matters. People tended to grasp onto their societal rules as if they would drown if they let go.

  She returned to the chair behind the desk. What troubled her the most was the fact that Amelia had suffered her entire life for something that was not her fault, and Josiah meant to sustain that suffering. It was all so unfair!

  Eleanor was unsure how long she sat there alone in the study, but the room was dark when Forbes entered, a candle in his hand as he closed the door behind him.

  “The hour grows late,” he said. How often had he said those exact words to her over the years? All too many. “Whatever is worrying you now cannot be rectified before tomorrow.”

  She looked up at the butler who had always been by her side. “I feel as if tomorrow may be too late. Amelia wishes to return to Chatterly Estate. She believes that by doing so, Josiah will stop his antics. Well, I will not allow it.”

  “And the journal?” Forbes asked. “Do you believe it will be enough?”

  Eleanor wished to say that it would be, but she had a sinking feeling nothing would change even if she were to reveal the truth.

  “There are ways to end this problem,” Forbes said as he walked around the desk and pulled an ornate wooden box containing a set of pistols from a drawer. “All you must do is ask.”