Cry of the Baroness: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 9

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Cry of the Baroness: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 9 Page 10

by Jennifer Monroe


  Not wishing to argue or disobey the advice he had been given, Nathaniel forced a smile. “Of course,” he replied, although his stomach ached at the words. “In fact, I encourage it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  There was no doubt that since their return from the home of Reverend Creassey four days earlier that the chasm between Nathaniel and his wife had only grown. Whereas before he had to worry about his title and retaining Scarlett Hall on top of the usual responsibilities of the barony, now concern over Harmony only added to his burdens. Was he losing her before the first year of their marriage came to pass?

  He did not wish to return to speak to Reverend Creassey, not so soon after he sought the man’s wisdom, which led to only one other person from whom he could seek advice — his mother.

  Closing the door to the study behind him, Nathaniel turned as the woman he had adored all his life rose from the chair behind the desk. Where was the youthful glowing woman he had known? Although she had assured him on several occasions that she was recovering from whatever mysterious illness from which she had suffered, he was unsure. Her body had thinned considerably, and her complexion was much too pale for his liking.

  Then again, she was no longer a young woman. Everyone succumbed to age at some point in their life; did he assume she would not?

  “Are you certain you are well enough to be working?” he admonished lightly. “I cannot help but worry; you still look unwell.”

  She gave him a small laugh. “I am well enough,” she replied. “Yes, my illness has taken its toll on me, and it will take some time to recover.” She placed a withered hand on his cheek. “But you do not carry the smile you once did. Is something bothering you? I can only assume it is Isaac. If so, I cannot blame you. It must be a terrible struggle.”

  He had intended to consult her concerning his marriage, but she was much too tired to be burdened with his troubles, so he replied, “It is. Did Harmony mention to you that he is considering relinquishing his claim to the Lambert title?”

  “She did.”

  “Well, I do not believe it,” he replied. “I think the man is a liar.” He sighed. “Yet, if anyone can change a person, it is my wife.”

  His mother went to the window, and he joined her. “What your wife is attempting is a beautiful thing,” she said. “But I am afraid it may be in vain. I do not believe Isaac came here to find a family as he declares. He came to take away what has already been claimed by you — your title and wealth.”

  “I fear the same,” Nathaniel said. “But as you said, if we keep the man close, we will be able to learn more. Is that not right?”

  “It is, or rather that had been my intention. I admit that I am beginning to reconsider my decision in this matter.” She sighed and turn toward him. “I worry about Harmony.”

  Nathaniel’s heart skipped a beat. It was difficult enough to hear those words from the reverend, but now his mother doubted his wife? “She will be fine,” he said. “And if all goes well with the solicitors, she will no longer need to appease Isaac.”

  “Have you considered what you will do if your plan fails?” his mother asked. “If the solicitors are unable to bar the appropriation of your estate?”

  He snorted. “I think of it every night. And every night I swear to myself that I cannot allow it to happen. I must do whatever it takes to see it does not.”

  “There are more important things than having a title,” she said as she stared out the window. “If fate brings about the loss of Scarlett Hall, you must be able to carry on without it.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “This does not sound like the mother I know. She would never give in to defeat so easily.”

  “I only speak of what I fear. I worry for you and your wife and the distress this is causing you. It is written all over your face.”

  Nathaniel offered his mother a smile. He would not burden her! “Harmony and I are doing well,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “And speaking of my wife, I should go in search of her. I will speak to you later, Mother.”

  Hurrying from the room, he tried to push away her words, for he feared she was right. What he needed to do was to plan what he would do next, what he would do to save everything he held dear, and worrying about his wife would only take time away from that.

  As he drew near the library, he heard Harmony laugh. The sound brought peace to his heart. Yet, that peace was soon replaced by irritation when Isaac’s laughter followed.

  Nathaniel’s jaw clenched at what he saw when he entered the room. Isaac stood with a broadsword in his hand. The weapon had been in the Lambert family since long before Scarlett Hall was first built, brought into the home by the 1st Baron Lambert, who had received it from his grandfather who had received it from his father. Yet this buffoon was treating it as if it was nothing more than a toy and not a family heirloom!

  “I do not suppose carrying this to a party would be wise,” Isaac said as he waved the sword around him, and Harmony laughed. “I would likely stab myself in the foot every time I bowed.”

  “What are you doing?” Nathaniel demanded as he hurried to the man. “This is not a plaything.” He grabbed for the weapon, but Isaac retained a firm grip.

  “I am being careful, Brother,” he said. “Do you believe I would damage something so precious?” His smile never dropped. Instead, it widened, but Nathaniel could sense the other man’s annoyance behind the faux amusement.

  After several tense moments, Isaac released the sword, and Nathaniel returned it to its holder on the wall. Then he turned to his wife. “You should not encourage him,” he snapped before he could stop himself. “Especially with pieces of such great value.”

  Harmony looked down at the floor. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “We meant no harm.”

  “No, the fault is mine,” Isaac said. “Do not take your anger out on Harmony.”

  “I am not angry,” Nathaniel said, shocked that the other man would make such a claim. “At least not at my wife.” Despite his words, however, he could not shake the feeling that he was being foolish.

  Without another word, he left the room. He knew he was brooding, but he could not help himself. Was he going mad?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Had it been nearly three months since Harmony returned to Scarlett Hall after a lovely month in Cornwall alone with her new husband? How she wished she could turn back the clock and relive that time, for the present was proving to be torturous.

  An orange leaf fluttered to the ground, reminding her that autumn was upon them, and it reflected what was happening in her life. She had made little progress with Isaac, much to her chagrin. She engaged with him in conversation almost daily – even Nathaniel had extended an olive branch and gone on two more outings with the man – yet their efforts had been in vain. Isaac made no mention of his previous statement that he would concede the barony to Nathaniel. And each time Harmony attempted to broach the subject, Isaac found another more to his liking and acted as if she had not spoken.

  To blame Isaac alone, however, would be unfair, for the man had no control over who his father had been. What bothered her more was that Nathaniel became angry at every turn no matter what Isaac said or did. Although Harmony was beginning to think of Isaac as a friend, she could no longer deny the toll the man was taking on her husband.

  Nathaniel continued to spend countless hours burying himself in his work, and the few times they had spent any time alone together, they may as well have remained apart for the little conversation they shared. Her husband spent his time brooding until he could not take sitting any longer, and then he would hurry from the room and return to the study.

  Harmony had never felt so alone. Eleanor’s health was deteriorating rapidly, and Harmony could not bring herself to burden the poor woman with her troubles.

  The bond she and Lydia had once shared had broken the day she, Harmony, had lost her temper. Now when her lady’s maid came to help her dress or to brush her hair, they did so in relative sile
nce. Lydia did her duties with the utmost competence, but gone were the lively conversations and sharing of the heart Harmony had once enjoyed with the woman.

  The door opened, breaking Harmony from her thoughts. She turned to find Lydia in the doorway.

  “May I speak to you, my lady?”

  Sadness filled her heart. Lydia had not used any type of formal address with her when they were alone since her first year in Harmony’s service. No, she could not allow this to continue! It was up to her to repair what they had lost. Therefore, she asked, “What of you and David? Are the two of you getting on well?”

  “Oh, yes,” Lydia replied. “I’m not waiting for him to say the word you once wanted to hear from Nathaniel.”

  “Love,” Harmony whispered and then laughed. “How many nights did I fret about who should say that first?”

  For a moment, she allowed her mind to drift to times past. It seemed like years since she had been plagued by that simple worry, and it seemed minuscule in comparison to her concerns of today.

  She turned to Lydia and forced a smile. “I am sorry. What was it you wished to speak to me about?”

  “Oh, Harmony!” Lydia cried, tears glistening in her eyes. “I am so sorry about what I said to you about Lord Thorne. I hadn’t meant to take advantage of your kindness toward me by telling you that you were doing wrong. It wasn’t my place to judge you. But I don’t think I can take another day — no, another hour! — of what’s happening between us now.” Tears slid down her cheeks by the time she finished, and Harmony thought her heart would burst.

  Harmony hurried to Lydia and threw her arms around her. “No, the fault is not yours, it is mine,” she replied. “You were right, my friend, and therefore it should be I who apologizes to you!”

  Lydia pushed away. “No,” she said, clear shock on her features. “You are a lady now, a baroness. You mustn’t apologize to a servant no matter what.”

  Harmony smiled through her tears. “That may be true, but I am allowed to apologize to a friend. You were merely looking after me. However, I assure you that Isaac has done nothing inappropriate.” She could see the skepticism on the other woman’s face. “I will make you a promise. If anything worries me concerning Isaac, I shall come to you first.”

  “And see that you do,” Lydia said with mock severity. Then she laughed. “Always remember that I’m your friend and will do anything for you.”

  Harmony embraced Lydia once more. “I know you will.” When the embrace broke, she walked over to the stool in front of the vanity table. “I wish I could mend the rift between Nathaniel and me as easily as we did,” she said with a sigh. “The leaves tell me a new season has arrived, but I do not know if it brings with it happiness or heartache.”

  “Perhaps a few days away together would do you and Lord Lambert well,” Lydia offered. “You could even go out for a picnic together.”

  Harmony smiled. “What a marvelous idea!” she said, clasping her hands together with excitement. “I will have the most wonderful meal prepared for us and we can escape the confines of these walls for the afternoon. Perhaps it will give us an opportunity to speak without the pressure of a looming disaster hanging over us.”

  She stifled a scream when the door flew open and Nathaniel came hurrying in, a letter clutched in his hand and a wide grin on his face. “The solicitors from London, they wish to speak to me!”

  Lydia bobbed a quick curtsy and left the room, but Nathaniel did not seem to notice.

  “How wonderful,” Harmony replied. “Have they indicated they have good news?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I am hoping that what they have to say is such good news, I must be present to hear it!”

  Her heart dropped. If what they had to share was indeed good, she would be very pleased for him. But what if the news was not what he hoped it to be? Could that not also be a reason to send for him?

  Nathaniel chuckled, the first sound of mirth she had heard from him in months. “I can see by the look on your face that you doubt my victory. Mother hired the finest solicitors, so I have no doubt they have nothing but favorable tidings for me.”

  “I do not mean to doubt,” Harmony said. “I truly do hope for positive news, but what if what they have to say is not what you wish to hear? What will you do then?”

  He tapped her nose as if she was a child. “That type of thinking will only make it worse,” he said. “And even if the news is bad, I will not stop until the title is safely mine once more.” His smile disappeared and his face darkened. “No matter what, I will not allow that man to have it!”

  His words were filled with such sudden anger and determination that Harmony took a frightened step back. Did he intend to hurt Isaac? “There are more important things in life than this title,” she said, placing a hand on his arm in hopes of calming him. “I do not want you to hurt someone in your quest to retain it.”

  Rather than having the pacifying effect she had hoped, Nathaniel became incensed. “You did not mind so much when it came to me coercing your father,” he said with a low growl. Then his frown deepened and his eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps it is your wish that Isaac receives the title?”

  Harmony’s breath caught in her throat. Surely he did not believe she was enamored with his brother? “How could you say such a thing?” she managed to whisper. “I want only what is best for you.”

  “Then support me,” he said, catching up her hands and bringing them to his lips. “Support me in my quest to save my family’s legacy.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “How could you believe that I do not support you?” she asked. “And do you not also see that even if you were able to retain the title, your family may be left broken?”

  He pulled her into his embrace, a hold she had not enjoyed in a month. “I am sorry, my love,” he whispered in her ear. “I know you support me. I have a feeling this will all come to an end soon and our lives will once again return to normal. But for now, I need you more than ever.” He pulled away and looked down at her. “I can count on you, can I not?”

  Harmony nodded, and when his lips touched hers, she reveled in his affections. The kiss was soft and calmed her.

  “Thank you,” he said when the kiss ended. “I must go as soon as possible, but I should return in two days.” He smiled and tapped the tip of her nose once more. “And I will bring good news with me.”

  With a nod, Harmony watched as he walked away. Although she loved and supported her husband, she feared his words. Not those he spoke of returning with good news but rather of his statement about things coming to an end.

  She prayed that their marriage would not be a part of that ending.

  ***

  That evening, Harmony forwent dinner and instead spent her time in the library pouring over the next installment of the journals of the former Ladies Lambert. When Eleanor had first mentioned the journals containing the life stories of the previous baronesses, Harmony never imagined the secrets those tomes kept. One by one, she devoured their words, as a myriad of emotions ran through her. The Lambert family had encountered times of elation and wonder as well as disparaging episodes, and through them all, one thing remained the same — the resolve of the Lady Lambert of that time.

  The candle was nothing more than a stump and her eyes burned by the time she closed the cover on the final volume, that of Lady Juliet Lambert, mother to Charles Lambert. Harmony sat in stunned silence and the knot in her stomach tightened as she considered what she had just read. Had the woman truly murdered her husband? Did Eleanor ever tell Charles the truth, or had she kept it to herself like the previous ladies of Scarlett Hall had guarded their secrets? And what would Eleanor’s journals reveal? Surely her mother-in-law did not have such terrible secrets!

  No, she could not believe such things about a woman as respectable as her mother-in-law. Perhaps it was because she had spent too many hours devouring the words on the pages that made her think these ghastly thoughts.

  One truth above them all emerged from tho
se pages, however — every Lady Lamber was willing to do whatever it took to protect her family. Whether it be by way of blackmail or blade, poison or bribe, there was a reason Scarlett Hall had remained steadfast for more than a hundred and fifty years. What Harmony feared was what it would take to maintain the next hundred.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes to organize and categorize what she could recall of the writings. It was all almost too much to bear. Would she have the courage and ability to live up to the women who came before her?

  Then a particular passage came to mind, and she flipped through the pages until she found the correct entry.

  It is for this reason that I will go to speak to Reverend Creassey. His wisdom concerning my husband is of great importance.”

  Turning the page, she hoped to find this great wisdom of the vicar who had served the family for so many years, but they were not there. At closer inspection, she saw the jagged edges of a missing page. Why had it been torn out?

  “Are you enjoying your reading?”

  Harmony started, her heart thudding against her chest as she looked up to see Isaac entering the room. She quickly closed the journal and placed it in her lap as he approached her, a glass of brandy in his hand.

  “I am,” she replied, pleased her voice was not shaking. “Perhaps too much, for I did not hear you come in.”

  Although Isaac wore a smile, it seemed as if something lurked behind it, something malevolent. But of course not. Her mind was still focused on the atrocities she had read.

  “One can never read too much,” he said with a light laugh. “Please, will you come and join me for a drink in the drawing room?”

  “Your offer is kind, but I am afraid I have tired myself out and should retire for the night.”

  “But I have good news I wish to share with you,” he said, taking on that imploring tone he used on her when she did not readily agree to a request. She was growing tired of that tone. “Please, do not make me beg, for I will if I must.”

 

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