by Adele Clee
Mrs Hibbet closed her eyes and nodded. “Oh, he’ll not recover from this. Mark my words. Things will be worse than before.”
Despite Rose’s sudden urge to run, she pasted a smile in an effort to ease Mrs Hibbet’s anxiety. “Everything will be fine.” Oh, if only she could believe that. But the pain in her chest said otherwise. She placed a reassuring hand on Mrs Hibbet’s shoulder. “Things will happen just as they should. Fate has a way of organising everything in the end.”
“I gave up trusting Fate a long time ago.”
Rose hadn’t. Coincidence did not bring her to Everleigh. Coincidence had nothing to do with the deep sense of belonging she experienced when held in Christian’s arms. This was her predestined path.
“I should go.” She simply meant she should not keep his lordship waiting. Still, she drew Mrs Hibbet into an embrace and hugged her tightly. “My mother died a long time ago, but you have given me another glimpse of unconditional love. You love Lord Farleigh like a son. Anyone can see that. Know that I love him, too. Know that I never meant to hurt him.”
The words tumbled from her lips without thought or censure, but she felt the truth of them deep in her bones. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hurried away down the stairs before she crumpled into a blubbering wreck.
Once outside the study, she stood there for a moment — waiting for what, she didn’t know. She gazed at the grandfather clock, listened to the rhythmical tick, wished she could turn back the hands and make everything right again. She looked at the tapestries lining the walls on the stairs, inhaled the smell of polished wood, caught a hint of Christian’s musky cologne in the air.
Come what may, her heart would always reside at Everleigh.
Sucking in a breath, she straightened her shoulders and knocked the door. One could not postpone the inevitable.
She waited to hear Christian’s voice, wondered if he would give any indication as to his feelings. Instead of calling for her to enter he yanked open the door, and their eyes met.
It was as she feared. Suspicion and disappointment marred those vibrant green gems. He held his mouth in a firm, cynical line.
“Rose. So, it appears the D is for Darby.” He stepped back and bowed. “Won’t you come in?”
She entered the room, and her beloved brother jumped up from the chair.
“Rose!” Oliver rushed forward and drew her into an embrace. He smelt exactly as she remembered, warm, familiar, comforting. He looked at her, regret swimming in his eyes. “Can you ever forgive me for staying away? I would have come sooner had I known of your predicament.”
Rose looked up and cupped his cheeks simply to prove he was not a figment of her imagination. “There is nothing to forgive.”
Nicole rushed to their side. “Oh, I have been so worried about you. Do you know how many times we’ve travelled the road back and forth to London? What made you come here?”
Rose glanced briefly at Christian although from the dark look in his eyes she wished she hadn’t. She needed to explain it all to him first.
“Yes, why did you not return to London?” Christian’s ice-cold tone sliced through the air. “After all, you left Morton Manor with the intention of reaching Lord Cunningham did you not? He is the man you love, the one you wish to marry?”
Good Lord, no!
Nicole had told him about Lord Cunningham. Oh, he would not understand. “I do not love Lord Cunningham,” she snapped. I love you. “And I certainly have no intention of ever marrying him.”
“Oh, thank the Lord for that.” Nicole put her hand to her chest. “The gentleman is a cad. No matter how hard I try, I can find nothing to recommend him. I can’t imagine what you were thinking.”
“Six months locked in an old asylum can affect one’s judgement.”
“Indeed,” Oliver said stepping back. “Why else would you take a job as a maid?” He made it sound degrading, undignified, and yet she had never felt so empowered, never felt so needed.
“When I left the manor, I came upon Father’s coach at the inn. I assumed he’d come for me.” She turned to Nicole. “I wanted to warn you, but got lost in the woods and ended up here. The rest, well … I don’t suppose it matters now.”
Oliver frowned and then recognition dawned. “You did not know Father had died.”
“No. I came back to the manor the following day, but you’d gone.”
Christian cleared his throat. “Now I understand why you were so distressed that day. The story about being hired to work at the manor was just that, a story.”
The disdain in his voice cut deep. She turned to him, took a hesitant step forward, but Christian stepped back. “I never meant to deceive anyone. You must understand, I didn’t know what to do. Had my father found me, he would have sent me back to the manor.”
Oliver came to stand beside her. “Lord Farleigh has assured us of his discretion. No one will know you were here. Let us put this unfortunate event behind us and start anew.”
Unfortunate event?
Being at Everleigh had changed her in every way. She belonged here. She belonged with Christian.
“We have so much to tell you,” Nicole said. “But the most important news is that we’re getting married tomorrow, here in Abberton.”
“Married?” Rose gulped.
“Oh, Rose, Fate conspired to bring Oliver to me.” Nicole looked up at Oliver, admiration evident in her smile. “We’ve been on one wild adventure this last week. But through all the angst, we found love.”
Rose tried to hold back the tears. Nicole deserved to be happy, and Oliver would never find a woman as kind and caring.
One solitary tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m so pleased for you both.”
“I’ll leave you to continue your conversation in private.” Christian shuffled back. He did not sound like himself at all. “I shall be in the drawing room should you need anything further.”
“Thank you, Farleigh,” Oliver said. “Thank you for coming to our aid, and for taking care of my sister.”
Christian appeared indifferent, yet the tension in the air crushed the breath out of her lungs. He stood rigid, his body stiff. No matter how many times she looked at him, he refused to meet her gaze.
“I shall arrange for Mrs Hibbet to help Rose pack, although she came here with very little. I’m sure you want to be on your way. And may I offer my felicitations on your good fortune.”
“You’re welcome to join us tomorrow. We have no friends or family in the area and would welcome a familiar face in the pews.”
“Thank you for the kind invitation, but I fear, in light of this sudden turn of events, I must spend time with my children.”
Rose’s heart sank to her stomach at the thought of leaving them.
Reality struck her like a sharp slap in the face. The only hope she had of staying was if she married Christian. But he’d made his position clear. Mrs Hibbet would help her pack.
“Can I not at least stay one more night?” She spoke directly to him, and with some reluctance, he met her gaze. “Can I not say goodbye to the children?”
“I shall speak to the children in the morning.”
Oliver snorted. “Why would you want to stay? Lord Farleigh will explain that you’re not a governess.”
Part of her wanted to be a simple governess, with no wealth or home to call her own. She reached out and touched Christian’s arm. “I’d like to help them understand my predicament.”
“You mean the unfortunate and regrettable situation you find yourself in. No, it’s best they hear the news from me.” He inclined his head to her brother. “As I said, I shall await you in the drawing room, directly across the hall.”
He stepped away, left her hand hanging in the air, and then he was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
Christian closed the study door behind him and sucked in a breath. The years spent hearing Cassandra’s lies should have prepared him for this moment. He thought he knew a voice filled with falsity. He thought himself a ma
ster at recognising those unwitting flicks of the eyes that gave the game away.
But no. He’d come to learn there was no universal dictionary when it came to deceit. Yet the word fool was a generic term which defined him in every given situation.
He recalled the moment Rose stood on the steps of Morton Manor, wrapped in his embrace, sobbing into his cravat. The urge to protect her surfaced instantly, and he realised he couldn’t fight the connection no matter how hard he tried.
But her sorrow stemmed, not from the family tragedy that left her destitute, but the mistake she’d made in not returning to the manor sooner. And while he’d tried his utmost to persuade her to stay at Everleigh, leaving was always part of her agenda.
The grandfather clock chimed the quarter hour, and he contemplated kicking the blasted thing simply out of spite. His chest felt as hollow as the mahogany casing. And while his heart thumped to the same rhythm as the brass pendulum, he would remain stuck in this moment, never quite knowing how to move on.
He put his hands on his knees and closed his eyes as a deep sense of despair surrounded him — for his own broken heart, and because he knew what this would do to his children.
Anger flared again, and he strode into the drawing room, slammed the door shut and flopped down onto the sofa.
Restless, he jumped straight back up and moved to the row of decanters on the side table. The slight tremble in his fingers reflected the instability of his emotions. Anger gave way to despair. Disdain gave way to sorrow. He grabbed the brandy, splashed a few mouthfuls into a crystal tumbler and gulped it down. Still, the potent liquid did nothing to ease his torment, and so he refilled the glass, eager to do anything to rid his mind of all thoughts.
Frozen in an odd form of stasis, he stared at the pattern on the rug until the shapes blurred into one. Minutes passed. He dissected the events of the last week and cursed Fate’s cruel intervention.
The knock on the door startled him. Their eagerness to depart roused his ire. But then Rose had nothing to pack. She’d arrived with a kind smile and a caring heart — or so he’d believed — and another lie to account for her missing luggage.
The caller knocked repeatedly. Christian gritted his teeth and ignored the annoying sound. Stanton could go to hell. He didn’t care if the earl thought him rude. He wanted them gone, wanted to regain some semblance of normality.
Normality?
A mocking snort escaped, but he didn’t have time to consider the ludicrous thought. The door handle rattled, and before he could blink, Rose entered the room.
Christian’s heart thumped in his chest. Even with thin drawn lips and sagging shoulders, she looked angelic. When she walked, her gait appeared clumsy and awkward, as if she carried the heavy weight of her deceit in a sack on her back.
“Christian.” She paused. “I hope you don’t mind, but I used your paper and ink.” With an outstretched hand, she stepped forward. The letters quivered in her trembling fingers. “They’re for the children, to explain why I must leave.”
He snatched them, noted there were two. “What, do I not deserve an explanation?”
She struggled to look at him. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” The rapid rise and fall of her chest drew his attention. “At the time, I needed somewhere to stay and well … it was all a terrible misunderstanding.”
“Terrible, is that how you describe your time here?” He downed another mouthful of brandy rather than say something he might later regret.
“No, you’re twisting my words.” Rose shook her head. She placed her hand over her heart. “Wonderful is the only way I can describe my time here.”
He wished he could believe her. By God, a huge part of him wanted to trust every word that breezed through those luscious lips. But the lady did not know her own mind. And he couldn’t risk his family’s stability on a whim.
“I don’t know who you are,” he whispered.
How could he ever know what was true?
She shuffled closer, reached out to touch him but then dropped her hand. “I’m the same woman you confided in, the one who listened to you and offered advice. I’m the same woman you kissed so passionately. The same woman—”
“Enough!” He raised a hand to silence her. She was killing him. The ice encasing his heart cracked. One more word and he would take her in his arms, forgive every one of her sins. One more word and he’d be doomed to a life borne of deceit. “I’m weary of explanations. We’re too different. I’m looking for peace and harmony while you’re looking for adventure.”
She shook her head again, but he did not give her an opportunity to answer.
“Go now. You have a gentleman waiting for you in London. Only a week ago you believed yourself in love with him.” His throat was so tight he could barely speak. “I shall give the letters to the children, explain that you didn’t want to leave, but your position in society demands it. No doubt Alice will decide she hates the aristocracy.”
A weak smile formed on her lips. “You have the most beautiful children.”
“In that, we agree.”
“Rose.” Stanton cleared his throat to catch their attention. He lingered in the doorway. “We should go.”
She shot her brother a hard stare.
“Your brother is waiting.” Christian glanced at her hand, thought about bringing it to his lips, but dismissed the idea. “Goodbye, Rose.” The gut-wrenching pain in his stomach returned.
“Goodbye, Christian.” A tear trickled down her nose and dropped onto her chin. Without warning, she rushed forward and kissed his cheek. “I shall miss you,” she whispered and then she ran from the room and closed the door.
Two days had passed since Rose’s swift departure.
Leaning back against the wooden shutter, Christian stared out of the study window at the woods separating Everleigh and Morton Manor. So much had changed in such a short time. The house felt empty without Rose. He’d lost the only woman he’d ever wanted. He missed the smell of her skin, the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand. Mrs Hibbet tried her best to entertain the children but an air of despondency had settled, and no one knew quite what to do about it.
He played the events of the last week over in his mind, dissecting each lie, making an excuse for each one. For some reason, he couldn’t see Rose in the same light as Cassandra. Had he been too hasty in letting her leave? He should have listened to her explanation.
A knock on the door brought Mrs Hibbet. “Forgive me, my lord. But Jane has returned from her stay in Abberton. Her poor mother passed, and now she’s keen to return to work.”
“I’m sure you’ve told her how pleased we are to have her back.”
“Well, let’s hope we’ve no bouts of sickness for a while. The bed hangings need cleaning. We’ve not polished the silver for a month, and Cook wants help to organise the pantry.”
Christian raised a brow. “You don’t normally give me a breakdown of the household chores. Is there something else you wish to say?”
Mrs Hibbet clasped her hands in front of her. “The children miss Rose. We all do.”
“Indeed.” He’d had sleepless nights thinking of nothing else.
The children took the news as expected. After many tears, Alice decided she didn’t want to be a lady. Jacob blamed himself and raced off into the garden. Christian found him sitting in the orangery, clutching Rose’s letter to his chest. He’d not asked the children to divulge the contents. And he would not read anyone’s private correspondence without their permission.
“The children asked me to remind you that you’re a Knight. You’re supposed to rescue ladies in distress.”
“What do you want me to do, Mrs Hibbet? Shall I write to the earl and ask if his sister will work for eighteen pounds per annum?”
“There is something you could do.” A blush touched the woman’s cheeks. “You could … you could ask Rose to marry you.”
Christian gripped the back of the desk chair. “Have I missed something? What makes you think
I’m of a mind to marry?”
Mrs Hibbet shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. “We all saw how you were with Rose.”
No doubt they’d seen a man with a permanent smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. “And you would see me lumbered with another wife I cannot trust. After what happened with Cassandra, I swore never to marry again.” And yet he had considered asking Rose to be his wife. Damn, he would not have taken her virginity without hoping for something more.
“I know Rose isn’t who she pretended to be, my lord, but that’s my fault.”
Rose must have impressed Mrs Hibbet for her to accept responsibility.
“You did not lie, Mrs Hibbet. You accepted Rose’s word in good faith. Imagine the devastation if we’d disliked her. Once again, I would have been obliged to marry a woman I don’t love. The children would have another mother who cares nothing for their welfare.”
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
“But I should have spoken to her.”
“I’m the only one to blame for this situation.” He’d behaved inappropriately and pressed his advances. “For an intelligent man, I acted like a fool.”
“A fool in love,” Mrs Hibbet blurted. She covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes grew wide. “Forgive me, my lord. I spoke out of turn. It’s just I’ve been the housekeeper here for all these years and …”
“Emotions are running high since Rose’s departure. But we must focus our efforts on solving the problems here.” Indeed, he would sit down and read Cassandra’s letters, see if Rose was right. “And I have decided not to hire a governess. I shall see to the children’s education for the time being.”
Mrs Hibbet nodded. “May I say one more thing, my lord, and then I shall not mention it again?”
Christian inclined his head. “Very well.”
“Well, it’s two things, really. The first is a confession, and then I must tell you something Rose said the night the earl came.”
“Go on.” The empty feeling in his stomach forced him to breathe deeply. Was this where he discovered he could not trust Mrs Hibbet either?