Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6

by Jennifer Monroe

  For a moment, she considered allowing the man to end all her troubles, but she could not. “No,” she said, pulling the box toward her. “This is a family problem, and only a family member can rectify it.”

  ***

  Christopher knelt at his father’s bedside as the old man snored lightly. To see his father suffer thus tore at him. How he wished the man would wake, for there was so much Christopher wanted to ask him, advice he so desperately needed. If anyone could give him wise counsel, Lord Eramus Beaumont would be that man.

  It had been three days since he had confronted Amelia, and although his anger still simmered beneath the surface, he could not help but miss being in her company. Yet, the woman had lied to him, had spoken nothing but lies since their first encounter —. No, that was not true. She had told him a partial truth in the beginning; she was indeed a servant.

  He almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Once again he had been duped by a woman. Yet, something gnawed at his heart. Perhaps both Amelia and her uncle had told the truth as they saw it. Maybe her grandmother was indeed a cruel woman. Mr. Parker certainly had not gotten to be a favorite of the nobility by being friendly. Few of the Landed Gentry gained acceptance to the level Mr. Parker did, but when a family had wealth that surpassed that of a majority of the ton, people listened — and accepted without question. At least on the surface.

  Christopher gave a heavy sigh. If only he could ask his father’s advice in this matter.

  Something touched his head, and he looked up to see his father smiling at him. “You are distraught,” the old man said, his voice straining. “Is there a burden you carry, my son?”

  Christopher nodded. “Indeed. I am lost and unsure as to what to do.”

  A fit of coughing overtook the old man, and Christopher considered keeping his troubles to himself, but once he was quiet again, his father smiled. “Tell me. Perhaps I can give one last bit of advice.”

  “It concerns Amelia,” Christopher replied. “I have come to learn that she lied to me.”

  “Is this lie so terrible it is unforgivable?”

  Christopher thought a moment. “No, I suppose it is not, at least from my point of view. Her past is not what she led me to believe it was. However, my greatest fear is that she will lie to me again and that next time it will be detrimental.”

  His father glanced around the room as if searching for someone. “People lie,” he mumbled. “I have, you have, even your mother did. The question you must ask yourself is if you will be willing to destroy your marriage because of this lie.”

  Christopher pushed back the guilt that threatened to take over for his lie about his relationship to Amelia. “I do not know,” he replied with all honesty.

  “Listen, Son,” his father said. “we all lie at some point in our lives, sometimes more often than we like. Usually we do so to protect those around us, to protect those about whom we care deeply.”

  The truth of the man’s word stung Christopher. Had he not lied to his father to make him happy? Had he also not lied to Amelia about Allison in order to keep her from being hurt?

  “Father, do you remember Mr. Parker?”

  His father frowned. “Do you mean the barman at the tavern in the village?”

  Christopher chuckled. There had indeed been a barman in Rumsbury by the name of Parker, but that had been many years ago. “No, Mr. Josiah Parker of the Stratford Parkers.”

  His father growled. “An evil man, one who would hurt his own children to fill his coffers. We have several business arrangements with the man, but if I could go back in time, I would never have dealt with him at all. Trust me when I say, he…is indeed…evil…”

  Christopher waited for more, but soon his father was breathing the steady breaths of sleep. That was the most the man had said in one sitting for a very long time, and it was the most lucid he had been.

  “I am sorry, Father,” he said as he rose from his place beside the bed. “I lied to you. Amelia is not my wife. I said it to honor your wishes but now I see there is no honor in such a lie.”

  After bringing the blanket up to his father’s chin, Christopher returned to the study and plopped into the chair behind the desk. He glanced outside to see a gray sky that mirrored his mood.

  Amelia had lied, but had those he told been any better? Yet, her falsehoods had been concerning her lineage and her reason for running away. His had not been as bad, had they?

  He was still battling with his thoughts when Lilias walked into the room.

  “I am returning home now,” she said. “However, before I leave, I have something I must say to you.” Her demeanor was so firm, Christopher cringed. When his sister took on this peremptory stance, it did not bode well for him. “What you and Amelia have cultivated between you is wonderful. In the short time I have been here, I have seen a change come over you that I never thought possible.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I wish Marcus and I had what you two share.”

  This surprised Christopher. “You mean —.”

  “There is no love between us,” Lilias said. “We married for convenience, although we led people to believe we cared for one another.” She shook her head. “As I sat in the carriage listening to you berate Amelia, I could hear the pain in her voice. She loves you, and if you choose to throw that away, you are a bigger fool than I thought you were.” When he went to speak, she waved a hand to silence him. “I refuse to listen to any of your excuses, Christopher. Either you love the woman or you do not. I do not care about her lineage — you know that has never mattered to me. Do not allow the rules of propriety to stop you from loving whomever you choose.”

  “I appreciate your counsel,” Christopher said, pulling his sister in for a hug. “But I have no idea what I will do. My words to Amelia were cruel and spoken out of anger.”

  His sister clicked her tongue. “You must do what you should have all along. Speak from your heart. Listen to her story, and I believe the truth you both seek will emerge. I am a good judge of character, and Amelia is better than most we know.” She turned on her heel without allowing Christopher to respond.

  Christopher followed Lilias out to the waiting carriage, and as it drove away, he considered the words spoken not only by Lilias, but by his father, as well. What he had to ask himself was if he cared for Amelia. If he did, everything else did not matter.

  There was no denying it; he had come to love Amelia. What Lilias said was the truth; he had not spoken what was on his heart.

  He replayed the conversation with Amelia — no, his confrontation with her. No conversation had taken place that day, for he had refused to listen. Now he recalled what she had said. She had spoken of a cruel uncle who was selling off property in which Lady Lambert had stock. Even if Mr. Parker was angry with Amelia, why punish Lady Lambert? It made no sense.

  The problem was, what could he possibly do about that? It was Mr. Parker’s business, and that of Lady Lambert, not Christopher’s.

  Then an idea occurred to him.

  Hurrying back to his father’s office, Christopher went to the large bookshelf that held the various ledgers of their many business holdings and scanned the pages. If what Amelia said was true, and Christopher had to trust it was, perhaps Mr. Josiah Parker was the true problem that needed to be addressed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Amelia took one last look around the bedroom that had been loaned to her, knowing this would be the last time she laid eyes on it. Contrary to what her aunt believed, Uncle Josiah would continue his assault against not only her but her Aunt Eleanor, as well. The fact was unsettling, but Amelia could no longer allow those she loved to suffer for her shortcomings. The time had come to leave Scarlett Hall and return to Chatterly Estate to do her penance. It was the right thing to do.

  She glanced in the mirror and wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. Gone were the dresses of fine fabrics and bright colors. Instead, she held her old carpet bag that contained the burlap dresses she had brought with her when she lef
t home. She wore the same dress in which she had arrived.

  The only other possession she had was the ring her grandmother had put on her finger, which now hung from a leather cord around her neck for safekeeping. The chances of a handsome earl giving her safe passage was extremely low, and who knew what her uncle would do when he learned she had it.

  Making her way to the foyer, Amelia stopped before Forbes. How was it the man knew when someone would need him? He seemed to be where he was needed at just the right moment.

  “May I bring your coat, Miss Amelia?” the butler asked with a diffident bow she did not deserve.

  Amelia nodded, and Forbes returned with the new overcoat Aunt Eleanor had purchased for her.

  “My old one, please,” Amelia said with a sigh. How she wished she could take that beautiful overcoat, but she could not return with anything more than that with which she had left. Her grandmother would only see it burned, anyway. Why take a chance on such a lovely item?

  When Forbes returned with the tattered coat, he said, “There is always hope, Miss Amelia. Even in the darkest of days, hope prevails.”

  “I had thought so,” she replied. “But I am afraid there is no hope left.” She glanced down the hallway that led to the study knowing that her future awaited her. “Is my uncle here?”

  “He is,” Forbes replied, giving no indication of his opinion of Uncle Josiah. “He is speaking with your aunt at the moment.”

  Amelia could only nod before walking with leadened legs to the study. Voices came from inside the room, and Amelia stopped to listen. They would be discussing her, so she had every right. It was not likely they would reveal their plans for her while she was there, and she wanted to know what was to happen to her.

  “What you say is untrue,” her aunt was saying. She sounded angry. “I do not believe it. Even if it were, Charles is long dead. The rumor will hold no merit.”

  Uncle Josiah laughed. “Oh, but that is where you are wrong. Why would it matter that Charles is gone? The rumors will ruin your family, and unless you give me Amelia today, everyone will know your husband killed that servant woman! But the choice is yours. What you decide makes little difference to me.”

  Never had Amelia heard her aunt give such an evil laugh. “Ah, but what I know will certainly ruin you.”

  “What do you mean?” Uncle Josiah asked.

  Amelia peeked around the door. Her aunt was holding the journal she, Amelia, had given the woman upon her arrival. “I learned something that will turn your world upside down,” she said with a sneer that would have cowered even the King. This was a different woman than Amelia recognized, and Amelia could not take her eyes off what enfolded before her.

  Uncle Josiah went to grab for the book, but Aunt Eleanor pulled it away with several clicks of her tongue. “Tsk tsk,” she said. “There will be no receiving of this gift until my demands are met.”

  “And what could possibly be in those writings that concerns me?” Uncle Josiah asked, trying to seem as if he cared nothing for what the book contained but failing miserably. He never was one for patience, especially when it concerned him not getting something he wanted.

  “From my understanding — and keep in mind that this is Mother’s journal — you are not a Parker.”

  Uncle Josiah began to sputter and his face grew so red that Amelia wondered if he would have some sort of attack. “What is this?” he growled. “Speak plainly!”

  Aunt Eleanor chuckled. “It seems that our saintly mother had an affair with the butler, of which you are the result. Therefore, you are not truly a Parker. Oh, Mother’s blood runs through your veins, but my father’s blood does not.”

  “No one will believe such nonsense!” Uncle Josiah shouted. Even from the door, Amelia thought she could see the veins in his temples throbbing. “I can easily dispute that book as a forgery, but I am an eyewitness to the atrocity Charles perpetrated!”

  “As I said before, Charles is long dead,” Aunt Eleanor repeated offhandedly. “Whatever you believe you can say against him will make little difference now. But this,” she held up the journal once more, taunting Uncle Josiah, “this will change everything for you.”

  “I do not care. Charles is a murderer, and even if he is dead, such a scandal will shatter this image Scarlett Hall has that it is without blemish. Mark my words, Eleanor, if you do not hand over Amelia this instant, and that wretched book, I will shout what I know from atop the mountains for everyone to hear!”

  This argument had gone on long enough! It was time to bring it to an end.

  Amelia pushed open the door. Her uncle stood beside the fireplace, his face red and blotchy and his hands in fists. Aunt Eleanor, reaching into one of the drawers in her desk, glanced up at Amelia.

  “Ah, there she is,” Uncle Josiah said in mock fawning tones. “Now, let us put this matter behind us. Think of the girl, Eleanor.”

  “Amelia, I would like you to leave us,” her aunt commanded as she placed a wooden box on top of the desk. “Go outside, or to your room if you prefer. Either way, you must leave this room. I will speak with you later.”

  With a jutted chin, Amelia said, “I heard what you said concerning Lord Lambert. How he murdered that servant.”

  “Amelia,” her aunt said firmly, “I must insist —.”

  “No, no, she must learn the truth eventually,” her uncle said. “It is true, girl. Charles Lambert was an evil man and his deeds heinous. What he did is a secret, one that is tied to Scarlett Hall. That is all you need to know.” The grin he wore was so full of malevolence the furniture should have quailed. “That secret can remain within these walls, never to emerge again, if you leave with me today. Just think, you can save your aunt and her family from the terrible stories that will cast a shadow of shame upon them.” His smile turned smug, as if he knew something he suspected she did not.

  Amelia glanced at her aunt, but not a drop of worry filled her. The day had finally come when she would reveal what she had witnessed all those years ago. “I will not be leaving with you,” she said, a calmness settling upon her shoulders. “In fact, it will be you who will leave and never return.”

  Her uncle snorted. “I hardly think that is true. Why would you possibly believe I would do such a thing?”

  Drawing a deep breath, she readied herself for a day she thought would never come. “What you say about Lord Lambert is only partially true.” She met his gaze with a confidence she had never before possessed in this man’s company. “Although it was not a servant but rather a prostitute.”

  Her uncle’s smile faltered, and a sense of uncertainty took its place.

  “And you, my dear uncle, were the one who committed the crime.”

  ***

  Parker Hall 1798

  Although Amelia was no more than ten years old, she had learned much in life. She could scrub a floor until it shone. The fireplaces held not a bit of ash when she was given that task. She had even learned to read and write. In fact, she read so well, even the longer books from her grandmother’s library were not difficult. Not terribly difficult, anyway.

  Despite all she had learned, there was one lesson that she had yet to reach proficiency despite repeated instruction. Thou shall not steal.

  In the drawing room sat a jar that held the most delicious looking treats. They were not meant for a lowly servant such as Amelia, of course, but each time she had tasks to complete in that room, they seemed to call to her.

  One day while dusting, the temptation became too great, and she indulged herself in one of the sweets. It was even better than she could have imagined, and she found herself thinking about them all day and into the night.

  Lying beside her sleeping mother, her belly rumbled and her mouth watered. She simply had to have another!

  Rising from the bed, she sneaked out of the room. Surely her grandmother had gone to sleep by now, and she doubted the old woman counted how many sweets were in the jar. If she took one more, her grandmother would never know.

  The
truth of the matter was, if the fact that Amelia stole anything was revealed, including a tiny treat, she would receive a terrible punishment. She may be locked in a closet, strapped, refused food, or any combination of punishment if her grandmother learned what she had done. Yet her desire was so strong, Amelia was willing to take that chance.

  This will be the last one, she promised herself.

  As she scurried down the empty halls, she stopped from time to time to listen for any sounds of others about. Her plan was simple. She would sneak into the drawing room, take no more than a single sweet, and return to her room to enjoy it. If she was caught, she would say she was checking to see that she had completed all her tasks for the day.

  She neared the door to the drawing room and was surprised to see light spilling into the hallway through the partially open door. Amelia’s heart froze as the voice of a woman she did not recognize came to her ear.

  Drat! she thought. Now she would have to return to her room empty-handed. Her stomach grumbled in protest.

  “We agreed you would pay me five pounds,” the woman was saying, her voice filled with irritation. “That is three and a half pounds each for your pleasure this evening. Yet you offer me no more than a shilling?”

  For what type of pleasure would someone be willing to pay a whole five pounds? she could not help but wonder.

  “A shilling is all you are worth, whore.” It took a moment for Amelia to recognize that voice; it belonged to Lord Lambert, a man who came to Chatterly Estate a few times a year.

  The next voice she knew immediately. “You may leave us now.” That was her Uncle Josiah.

  “I want my money!” the woman shouted. “If you don’t give me what I deserve, I’ll tell everyone you are both liars and cheats, and don’t you believe I won’t!”

  A thumping sound made Amelia look around the door. The woman lay on the floor, her uncle standing over her with a candlestick in his hand. A strange redness spread under the woman’s head. Was that blood?

  Amelia pressed her back against the door in the hallway and squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard to keep from sicking up. Never had she seen such a horrible act in her life, but she knew what sin had been broken. Murder.