What would he tell his father about what had happened? It mattered not what Holden said, his father would never accept such a failure. What worried Holden the most was not that he might not receive the advancement promised him but that his father would see Holden as a disappointment. Again.
Holden paced his bedroom. He would never be able to please the man! Granted, he had made many mistakes, had fallen short of reasonable expectations, but many of his father’s expectations were well out of Holden’s grasp. The man expected Holden to carry the authority that had yet been bestowed upon him, and it simply was not right. How often had his father’s business partners refused to discuss their accounts with Holden, demanding to speak to his father instead? All too often!
In all that had transpired, however, an odd feeling of loss was what weighed on Holden the most. He would never see Rose again, and that somehow left him with an empty feeling. Of course, the woman was beautiful, and any man would miss gazing upon her beauty. Yet, it was the manner in which she spoke, the authority she emitted, that he found appealing. Her demands about the people on the road made him listen, and he found that shocking, for never had a woman captivated him so.
Her words concerning his hypocrisy hurt him more than he cared to admit. With each word of chastisement, his anger grew, fueled by his own sense of inadequacy. He had been consumed by guilt, for she had only spoken the truth. How humiliated the man on the road must have felt! And Holden had done nothing to ease the man’s burdens. In fact, he had only added to them.
He shook his head. This line of thought made no sense. They were less than he. Did not the entirety of the ton feel thus? Had his own father not taught him from a young age that one must be careful with his earnings and invest wisely? Rose might have been correct in chastising him for his tone with the man, but she was wrong in ignoring the fact that the man had brought on his own misfortune. That she could not argue against!
A light clearing of a throat at the door made him turn to find Carson at the door. “My apologies,” the butler said. “Lord Bradshaw wishes to speak to you in his study.”
“Thank you,” Holden said, keeping the anxiety from his tone. “I will be there in a moment.” The time had come for him face his father—to admit his defeat.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and then made his way to the study. With each step, worry consumed him, and by the time he arrived at the door to the study, he had to take several calming breaths before knocking.
“Come!”
With trepidation, Holden opened the door. His father stood leaning against his desk, an open ledger in front of him. “I am pleased to return and find the accounts in order,” the man said as he pushed himself from the desk. “Your diligence in bettering your work ethic has not escaped my attention.”
Any other time, Holden would have beamed at his father’s praise, and he had worked very hard on organizing every entry, checking every sum in order to appease the man. However, he knew the praise would be short-lived.
“Thank you, Father,” Holden said, willing his heartbeat to slow. “I find myself enjoying the task to the point that, if I were to remain a bachelor, it would not become a burden. I could spend all my time on matters of business.”
His father laughed as he reached into his coat pocket and produced a bundle of notes. “Tell me, have you good news to share? Surely you will not disappoint me.”
Holden looked at the notes then back at his father as a memory appeared in his mind. Holden had been no more than ten years of age as he practiced his sums. His father berated him as he struggled to get the answers correct.
“You are a disappointment!” his father had said, slamming his hand down on the desk and making Holden jump. “The servants can perform this task better than my own blood!”
Holden had never felt such hurt before, but the man’s rant continued.
“You will remain here in this room until you complete these sums accurately. I do not care if it takes a week, you will not humiliate me with your ignorance. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father,” Holden said quietly.
“No food until you are done,” his father shouted from the hallway.
Holden had cried, and even as his stomach rumbled and his head ached, he worked. By the time he finished to his father’s satisfaction it was well past midnight, and his eyes were heavy with sleep. His father offered him not a drop of praise or a word of encouragement the entire episode. Instead, he simply had said, “Do try not to be a disappointment again.”
“Well?” his father said, breaking Holden from his thoughts. Then he scowled. “It did not go well, did it?”
“Oh, no,” Holden said before he could stop himself. “It went better than I could have ever expected. Rose accepted my offer immediately.” Once the words were spoken, Holden wished he could take them back. There was no way to make right this lie! However, when his father clapped him on the shoulder, he found he did not want to.
“I knew this change in you was great,” the man said before placing the notes in Holden’s hand. “You have done well.”
“Thank you, Father.” Holden folded the notes and placed them in his coat pocket. He felt a sense of uncertainty fill him. Why did he feel a sense of shame when he should have felt pride? Lying to his father had never affected him like this in the past. “I should get some work done.”
“No,” his father said. “Take the day for yourself and enjoy it.”
Holden could only nod before turning to walk out of the room; he could not trust himself to speak.
His father’s voice stopped him before he reached the door. “I will speak to Lady Lambert about it tomorrow when I call on her.”
Holden swallowed to bring moisture to his otherwise dry mouth. When he turned, he found it nearly impossible utter a word. “You will be speaking to Lady Lambert so soon?”
His father laughed. “And why not? The letter I sent with you earlier this week was a request to call; I may as well include such a wonderful topic to our conversation. And you will accompany me. You courting her niece should give some leverage in my endeavor.”
“And what endeavor is that?” Holden asked.
“That is my concern, not yours.”
Holden nodded and left the room. It would do no good to inquire further; his father was never one to budge when he had made his mind up.
He hurried to the front door and took a deep lungful of air. His father’s meeting would ruin everything, and unless he, Holden, could get word to Rose, all would be lost. He could send a letter, but what he needed to say would take pages he did not wish to write, and the chances for rejection were much too high.
Yet, calling without first receiving permission from her aunt was all too risky, for it could anger her and jeopardize whatever plans his father had.
It was with desperation that he decided upon a course of action. He would simply have to be a much more daring man than he had ever thought himself to be.
***
Holden had done many irresponsible things in his life, most involving lying to a number of people. Most lies he told were of little consequence, but those he told his father rarely proved to be worth the telling. Despite this fact, he had once again lied to the man who held his future in his hand, and that act would prove his incompetence beyond any doubt.
Now, as he slowed his horse to turn down the drive that led to Scarlett Hall, he was on his way to do whatever it took to change the outcome of this act of foolishness. He had no idea what he would say to Rose, but any appeal to her would be worth the effort if he could convince her to change her mind about allowing him to court her.
Light from the full moon shone down upon the magnificent Scarlett Hall as he slowed the horse further until it was inching forward on the pebbled drive. The fact that the night had been so bright had been a godsend, for many accidents happened when people attempted to travel after dark. Yet he would have taken this journey regardless, so great was his desperation.
He dismounted
before the drive opened up in front of the house and tied the horse to a nearby tree. Remaining in the shadows, he hoped to locate Rose’s room, although, now that he looked at the massive size of the house, it occurred to him that it would be much more difficult than he had imagined. What had he been thinking? There were too many rooms that could be hers!
Then he remembered that she had mentioned that her bedroom overlooked the gardens. That eliminated any rooms on the opposite side of the house, yet it still left too many.
With each step, his worry increased. Several windows glowed with soft candlelight, indicating that someone inhabited a particular room. If his luck held, perhaps she was still awake and would walk in front of the window.
He eliminated the upper-level rooms; they would more than likely belong to the staff. He understood that the bedrooms for the family were located on the floor above the ground floor, so that any window with light on the ground floor could be eliminated. That left only two windows with light glowing in them. Either one could belong to Rose. The ivy that covered the trellis that lined the walls would prove to be helpful in reaching either room.
He smiled. Rose appeared in one of the two windows. He shifted further into the shadows, although he doubted she would be able to see him despite the full moon.
He gave a silent laugh. If Lady Lambert caught him gazing up at Rose, she would think him a lout, and his father would surely throw him out of not only his house, but his life, as well. Perhaps he was going mad, for who would find such a situation humorous?
“Luck is with those who are daring,” he mumbled as he hurried over to the trellis below the window in which he had seen Rose, praying that she was not in her aunt’s room for some reason. Or that of Caroline.
He placed a foot on the trellis and tested his weight. It seemed to hold, so he hoisted himself onto it. With each step, his confidence grew, and the window drew nearer. However, when he was within arm’s length of the sill, he glanced down, immediately regretting doing so. If the trellis gave way from this height, he would die—or at least break several bones.
Yet, upsetting his father would be far worse, and so he took a deep breath and resumed his climb, pausing just below the windowsill. He inched upward, relieved that Rose had moved away from the window, until he could just peer inside.
Rose sat with Caroline on the bed. Both wore their nightclothes, and although this would have amused him on most occasions, it was the bottle they passed between each other that piqued his interest.
For all her talk about rules of society, the woman had fooled him. She was no better than he, for she drank from the bottle without hesitation, swigging as if she were some sailor!
This fact made him smile. Perhaps the two had more in common than he had suspected, which in turn would help him when he asked a favor of her. More assured, he tapped on the window and waited.
Chapter Thirteen
Rose had found herself in the oddest of predicaments. Earlier that day, her aunt had informed her that Holden and Lord Bradshaw would be calling the following day. Apparently her aunt had known for several days, much to Rose’s angst. She had forced a smile and asked the reason, but her aunt replied that she was uncertain and refused to speculate.
For the remainder of the day, Rose had fretted over what the two men could possible want, and once the hour grew late enough, and she was certain her aunt would be abed, she asked Caroline to come to her room in order to share in some of Juliet’s brandy. Perhaps it was some magical mixture the woman had procured, but whenever they drank from it, it seemed as if her mind cleared and her thoughts flowed much more freely than they did without it. Well, perhaps her mind was not necessarily clear, but she had fewer inhibitions whenever she drank from that bottle. Did all alcohol have that effect? She did not have the experience to know for sure and she was not about to admit as much to the likes of Caroline Thrup.
That woman sat beside her on the bed as Rose spoke her thoughts aloud.
“The only thing that comes to mind,” she said as she passed the bottle to Caroline without looking at the woman, “is that Holden was upset at my refusal and his father has taken it upon himself to bully my aunt into making me agree. If the man has even half the arrogance his son possess, then that could very likely be the reason for their desire to call.”
“Surely your aunt will allow you to make that decision yourself,” Caroline said, passing the bottle back to Rose.
Rose sighed. She was uncertain what to think. She pulled herself off the bed and walked over to the window and peered outside. For a brief moment, she thought she saw a figure near several trees, but then it was gone. No, that had to be her imagination. “It is my decision,” she replied. “And I do not want to argue with my aunt if she decides that the decision is hers. However, if Lord Bradshaw pleads with me to allow his son to court me, I shall still refuse.” She turned from the window and threw herself onto the bed with a sigh.
“First, we must drink and calm our nerves,” the woman said before taking a drink and offering Rose the bottle once more.
Rose eyed the bottle once more. How had she come to falling into the temptation of drinking brandy? And straight from the bottle of all things! She had never acted in such an unladylike fashion in all her life, but at the moment she did not care. She sat up and took the bottle from Caroline. No, the temptation was too much to resist, and she took a hefty gulp before placing the bottle on the side table.
“What do you suggest, then?” she asked Caroline. “Do I sit in silence while Holden and his father call? I doubt Aunt Eleanor will approve.”
“No,” Caroline said. “I believe you should…”
A tapping on the window made them both jump. Rose covered her mouth to hold back the urge to scream, but when a pair of eyes peered through the window, she nearly fainted with fear.
“It is the same highwayman returning for Juliet,” Caroline said in a horse whisper before she buried herself into the blankets and covered her head.
With a racing heart, Rose picked up the candle and took a step toward the window. “If the man means to take me away,” she said, peeking over her shoulder, “you must help me fight him.”
“I am much too afraid,” Caroline whimpered from beneath the covers.
Rose clicked her tongue I vexation, but it did little to ease her fears. Taking another step closer to the window, she narrowed her eyes and then gasped. It was no highwayman clinging to the sill but rather Holden!
Hurrying to the window, she let the candle on the inner sill and drew up the sash. “Holden?” she said in astonishment.
“My apologies for my sudden appearance,” he said.
“Is that really Holden?” Caroline asked from the bed.
Rose nodded. “It is.”
“What is he doing here?”
“I do not know,” Rose replied. She leaned closer to the window. “What are you doing here?”
“It is of the utmost importance that I speak to you,” came his reply.
“Do you not realize that, if my aunt catches me speaking to you like this, it would draw her ire? My name would be ruined, and I would be returned to London in shame!”
Holden pulled himself further onto the sill. “I doubt your aunt will worry that I have seen you in your nightgown.”
With a gasp, Rose hurried to the foot of the bed where her dressing gown lay strew across the chest. She drew it about herself, tied the belt tight and then crossed her arms over her breasts. “I am not speaking of her being angry at my state of undress but in the fact that you are at my window! It is you who is out of place in the situation, not I. What could possible be so important that you felt the need to come to my bedroom?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you get up here?”
He glanced behind him and grimaced. “It seems the trellis is quite sturdy,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Why are you here?”
With a final grunt, Holden pulled himself over the sill and spilled into th
e room. “I must have you accept my offer of courtship,” he said when he had righted himself. “It is imperative that you do so.”
“And why would I do that?” she asked with a huff.
“My father believes you already accepted.”
Anger filled Rose. “You told your father that we are courting?” she gasped. “Surely you are madder than I thought!”
“Please,” Holden said. “You must accept. I need you to accept.”
Although his eyes pleaded, she could never accept such an offer, and certainly not under the duress in which he placed her at the moment. “I am sorry, but I cannot accept. Now, you must go! Perhaps we can speak of this more tomorrow, but I cannot discuss this while you stand in my bedroom.”
Holden sighed and looked down at the floor. “There will be no tomorrow,” he mumbled. “Father has told me that my courting you is the only way for me to remain at Ramada Estate. When I tell him the truth, he will send me to work in the mines he owns near Dover.”
Rose’s heart flooded with guilt. She had no interest in seeing this man,but she could not imagine him being forced into such a harsh life, not a man who had experienced such conditions. Granted, he could learn much from experiencing labor, but the mines? That was carrying it all too far.
He heaved a heavy exhale and turned back to the window. “I understand. I will still think of you as my friend while I am slaving away in the mines. Goodbye.”
Rose worried her bottom lip. No man should be forced to suffer when he did not have to. “Wait,” she said, although ever fiber of her being cried out to allow him to leave. “Perhaps there is something we can do.”
He turned and smiled at her. “So you accept?”
“Not outright,” she replied. “However, what if we were pretend to court. We could tell your father and my aunt that you asked and I accepted but no one else. In the interim, I will continue my search for a more…appropriate gentleman. Agreed?”
Songs of Yesterday: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 5 Page 12