With a sigh, she refolded the paper and carried both to the other side of the bed. Dropping to her knees, she pulled up the old floorboard and placed the parchments with the others already resting there—letters and writings belonging to Juliet Lambert, a woman she did not know but hoped to one day meet. Juliet had also shared not only her desires, but her secrets, as well. And like those belonging to Rose, they would remain sealed and hidden forever.
Replacing the floorboard, Rose stood and smiled. Her past was now behind her, buried away in a sense, and her future was only moments away.
***
Rose attempted to calm her pounding heart as Lord Bradshaw and Holden entered the drawing room. She wished she could run to him, to fall into his embrace, but she stood with her back straight and her stance proud.
Her mother gave the baron a curtsy. “Thank you for accepting my invitation,” she said. “I understand a man of your standing values his time.”
Lord Bradshaw scowled. “Then do not waste it,” he said. “I am only here at my son’s request.”
“I understand your concerns,” her mother said. The woman had always been strong in the face of adversity, and today was no different. “As I stated in my letter, I have gathered documentation that will prove that my husband, Rose’s father, did indeed exist as I stated before. Included are records of my marriage to her father as well as a record of her birth. You will see that her father is listed as Michael Skylark.” She pointed to a place on one of the papers before handing them all to him. “I hope these will provide the answers for which you were searching.”
The baron snorted and turned his attention to the documents. Holden stood looking over his shoulder as the man rifled through the pages. “I see no record of his military service,” he said. “Have you no documentation of it?”
Her mother raised her brows in surprise. “Unfortunately, no,” she replied. “I only have what you see in front of you. I thought you were concerned whether or not my daughter was born out of wedlock.”
Lord Bradshaw scowled. “What is most interesting to me was the man’s occupation, and that is what is missing.”
“Father,” Holden said, speaking for the first time since their arrival, “what will appease you? If you were to see the man’s uniform, would you be satisfied? Perhaps his body? This is Rose’s father we speak of, and the man is dead. There is no reason to make it more painful.”
Lord Bradshaw glared at his son. “Do not embarrass me again!” he hissed. Then he turned to Rose’s mother. “I do not know if this man was a member of the landed gentry as you claim or if he was a simple cobbler. If your daughter is to marry my son, it does make a difference.”
Her mother raised herself to her full stature, which was considerably less than that of Lord Bradshaw. “With all due respect, I am a baroness. A dowager baroness, to be sure, but a baroness all the same. Do you believe a woman with my title would turn her eyes to a simple cobbler?”
This made Lord Bradshaw hesitate. He seemed to consider her words for a moment and then he let out a sigh. “I cannot imagine such a thing. However, just your word cannot satisfy me. As a lady of the aristocracy, you should understand my position. My son is not only the heir to my fortune, but also my family name and title. I cannot, and will not, risk all that only to learn after they are married that she is not worthy of my son.”
Rose blinked back tears. The documents should have been enough to convince the baron and earn his blessing. If they had known he had such a great concern for the man’s occupation, her aunt would have seen documentation created for that.
She turned pleading eyes to Holden, who looked at her with as much urgency. “There is no reason we cannot be married,” he said to his father. “What else must they prove?”
“Nothing,” his father replied. “For I do not believe this story concerning the man’s military service.” He turned to Rose. “Miss Skylark, I am sorry, but I cannot allow this engagement to continue.” He spun on his heel and left the room.
Rose covered her mouth to hold back a sob. The room lurched around her, and she thought she would faint. “Oh, Holden,” she whispered. “This cannot be.”
Holden did not console her as she would have expected. “I am sorry,” he replied. Then his father’s booming voice called him to the hallway. “I did not want this,” he added before also leaving the room.
Her mother pulled Rose into her arms, and Rose wept tears of loss. “My life is ruined,” she cried. “I have lost the only man I have ever loved.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Holden followed his father through the foyer and out onto the portico. How could the man have been so cruel? Lady Prescott had clearly gone to much trouble obtaining proof that her dead husband had existed, and yet his father was still not satisfied.
“Let that serve as a lesson,” his father snapped.
“And what lesson is that?” Holden demanded.
His father laughed. “That few women know little about what they say.”
Holden grasped his father’s arm, ignoring the glare the man gave him. “They provided proof!” he said. “I do not see why you still disapprove.”
“That Prescott woman is exactly like Lady Lambert,” his father growled. “A woman of great wealth who has remained alone despite her young age. Oh, yes, I know she was once married to a baron, but this Michael Skylark? There is no telling who the man truly was. And as for Lady Lambert, she has a few dark secrets, to be sure. No woman remains alone by choice, not one as beautiful as she. They are trouble, my son, all three of them, and you will be better off looking elsewhere for a bride.”
The man turned and continued toward the carriage, and an image came to Holden’s mind, a memory from his childhood of his father always walking away from him, angry and displeased with anything Holden had done.
Yet, as his father turned back to glance over his shoulder, Holden understood something else. Nothing Holden ever did would please this man, and he would live a life of misery trying to do so.
“Come now,” his father barked. “We have wasted enough time on this nonsense. I have business to attend to.”
Holden approached the carriage, taking steps he knew he had to take. “Before we leave, I must ask you something.”
“Well, get on with it. I am in a hurry.”
“I remember a time when I struggled to complete a mathematics lesson, and you said you were disappointed. You said you thought I was as ignorant as the servants. Do you remember?”
His father gave him an impatient glare. “What of it? I did it to push you, to make you see you could do better.”
Holden shook his head. “All my life, I have disappointed you, and I no longer wish to do so.”
“Good,” his father said. “Then we are in agreement that Miss Skylark is best left behind. Now, let us go.”
“No,” Holden said in a firm tone he had never used with his father before. “I wish to ask you another question. If you were to see the headstone belonging to Rose’s father, and if the man rose from the grave and told you the story of his life, would you then be satisfied?” Anger burned in Holden, and he did not allow his father to respond. “Be honest with me. Did you not believe that my marrying Rose would give you a way into the coffers of Scarlett Hall? The only reason you now refuse is because you learned she truly has no claim on even a farthing of the riches Scarlett Hall possesses! Admit it!”
“If it was my plan, it should make no difference to you. And I would be careful of your next words, boy,” his father said, spittle flying from his lips.
“Or what?” Holden demanded. “You will tell me how much of a disappointment I am to you? That I have failed you yet again?” He had to draw in a great breath to continue. “Perhaps I am, and for a time I admit I was. But then I met Rose and all that changed. Do you know what I became?”
His father responded with a glower.
“I became what I was before Mother died,” Holden replied. “There was a time when we were happy. Yes, yo
u were strict, but you cared about me. I cannot imagine what it is like to lose a wife, but I know how it feels to lose someone you love. If I leave today, I will experience yet another loss—Rose—and my heart will never be healed. The truth is you will never be happy.”
His voice rose with every word, until he was shouting, his anger was so great. “Regardless of my decisions today, tomorrow, or all days in the future, you will be displeased until you realize that happiness does not come from documents nor from the amount of money noted in a business ledger. Or from the coffers of Scarlett Hall. Perhaps one day you will realize that contentment comes from within. Rose taught me that, and it is one of the many reasons I love her.”
During Holden’s speech, the features on his father’s face changed. Now he stared past the stables, sadness in his eyes.
“When your mother died, my world was taken from me. I became stricter with you because I feared that if I died, you would have nothing.”
“The wealth we acquire is but a portion of what a man needs,” Holden said. “You know this, for you loved Mother as I love Rose. Do not take that from me. You know the pain that comes from loss.”
His father drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Perhaps I have been so consumed with finding a man’s past that I ignored my own. You are right, my son. I did change after your mother’s death. And like you, I believe there is a better way.” He clasped Holden on the shoulder. “Despite my words to the contrary, you have never been a disappointment. It was I who failed, and I see that now. Forgive me.”
“All is forgiven,” Holden said.
His father dropped his arm, looked back at Scarlett Hall, and sighed. “I suppose we should return to your fiancée,” he said, and for the first time in many years, Holden looked at his father and smiled, truly smiled. And much to his happiness, the man readily returned it.
***
Rose had stopped sobbing, although tears still filled her eyes. Her heart was left broken and bruised.
“Another man, one who is worthy of your love, will find you,” her mother counseled. “I know you hurt now, but it will ease in time.”
Rose nodded; however, she doubted rather highly that she would ever find another man to love. She had fought too hard, come too far, to experience this loss. Why had life been so cruel to her?
The prize of having Holden in her life had been what had kept her from going mad when she learned the truth about her father. It was what had helped her through hearing what Charles Lambert had done to her mother. And now, Holden was gone.
“Lord Bradshaw,” her mother gasped, and Rose looked up to see the baron standing in the doorway to the drawing room.
No longer did he stand glaring in defiance. Now he seemed subdued somehow, a stark contrast from the man who had stormed from the room earlier.
“I am here to apologize for my actions and words,” he said. “After much consideration and wise counsel from my son, I will see that the reading of the banns will commence this Sunday.” He turned and bowed to Rose. “My son wishes to speak to you, Miss Skylark. He is waiting on the portico out front.”
Rose did not wait to see if the man was jesting. She rushed past him and down the hall to the foyer, tears flowing down her cheeks. She threw open the door to find Holden standing there, his arms opened wide, and she threw herself into them.
“Can it be true?” she sobbed. “Tell me this is not a dream.”
“My father has come to understand what I need,” Holden said as he wiped tears from her face. “And that is you. I love you, Rose Skylark, and you are who I need. The woman who has my heart and the lady I wish to be my wife.”
Rose drew in a heavy breath and glanced behind her. She should keep her secret, but if the truth ever were revealed, would he still love her? “About my father…”
He placed a finger to her lips. “You have presented all the proof needed. I do not care if he was a duke or a man who swept the chimneys. Even if your mother had been unable to provide the documents that proved she and your father were married, I would never stop loving you. Nothing else matters. I want nothing more than to spend my life with you.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was passionate and full of hunger and love. It was the love shared by a woman raised only by a loving mother and a man who had spent his days doing everything to please his father. Each in his or her own way had been lost and now they were found. Found in the arms of one another.
As the kiss broke, Rose sighed against his chest. The worry, the fear that had once consumed her, was now gone, and she smiled as she looked up at Holden. “If I may dare say,” she said with a giggle, “you are a handsome man, Lord Bradshaw.”
And you, Miss Skylark,” he said with a wink, “the most daring of women, are indeed beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I am very excited,” Rose said to her mother and aunt as they sat in the drawing room of Scarlett Hall. “We will travel first to Dover for several months to see the house in which his father will live. Once the weather permits, we are off to France!” She sighed. “I cannot believe I will finally be seeing Paris!” Then she gasped. “As a married woman!”
She and Holden had married a month earlier, and now Miss Rose Skylark was Lady Rose Bradshaw. Much like her life, the season had changed. The weather was no longer warm and a slight chill filled the air.
“And speaking of our travels,” Holden said with a wide smile, “we should be going soon. I must ensure the luggage has been tied on correctly. One of the bags nearly fell off on our way here.” He stood and bowed first to Rose’s mother and then her aunt. “Thank you for all you did for us.”
As he walked out of the room, Rose’s mother and aunt exchanged glances and then raised eyebrows at Rose.
“I told him nothing,” she assured them. “He made it perfectly clear that he does not care who my father was. Not that the subject has come up, mind you.” She hugged the two women she loved so dearly. “I should echo what Holden said, but I do not believe I will ever find the words to thank you enough.” She wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Her aunt smiled. “It has always been my dream that all my daughters will find love, and although you are not my own, I am pleased you did.”
“Thank you, Aunt Eleanor. For everything.”
Her aunt embraced her. “I will allow your mother to see you out. It is only fitting.”
Rose nodded and soon she and her mother were standing on the portico, Rose in a purple traveling dress and long overcoat, a new hat trimmed in purple ribbons shading her face from the bright summer sun.
Her mother took her by the hand. “When you were little, you would often stop and collect leaves. Do you remember?”
Rose laughed. “I do. And then you would remind me I should be acting more ladylike and therefore would have to drop them.”
Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “That is true. And now, as a married woman, you must take all that I taught you and use it well. I will no longer be there to remind you. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Rose replied. “And I will.”
“I have no doubt you will,” her mother said, placing a hand on her cheek. “One day you will teach all I taught you to your children, as well. You must not become complacent in this, for what your children learn from you will remain with them until the day they, too, leave the nest.” She glanced behind Rose. “Your husband and your new life await you. Just remember that I will always love you.”
“And I will always love you, Mother,” Rose said, kissing the woman’s cheek. “I will write once we arrive in Paris. And when we return to London, I will let you know.”
Her mother smiled as tears brimmed her eyes. “Be safe.”
As the carriage pulled away, Rose put her head out the window and waved at her aunt and mother as they stood beside one another on the portico, a symbol of their friendship.
Scarlett hall had revealed who Rose truly was. Not a child born out of wedlock, but a woman wh
o had grown and found strength she never knew she possessed.
“What are you thinking about?” Holden asked. “Do you miss them already?”
Rose laughed. “I do. But I assure you that my thoughts are on you and our life ahead.”
“As are mine,” he replied, taking her hand in his. “Last night, I thought about our life and the future we will share. Although I have no idea what it holds, I know that, with you by my side, I have nothing to fear.”
Rose’s heart filled to brimming. “There is not, for we are in love, a most special gift that has been given to us. And as I have learned over the last few months, love will triumph in the end.”
As the carriage moved along the road, they spoke of what lay ahead and the anticipation it caused. And as they spoke, Rose could not help but smile, for her love for her husband grew all the more, if that were possible.
Although she had one secret she would keep forever, another would one day be shared with her daughter—if she was blessed enough to have one. Whether a woman is rigid or daring, love will find a way to bring together two souls as one. That was a secret, unlike others, that was indeed meant to be shared.
Epilogue
Scarlett Hall 1807, three months later
Eleanor Lambert experience both exultation and anguish on the same day. That morning, she had gone to the home of her eldest daughter, Isabel, to welcome her first grandchild, a girl named after her. It was a beautiful honor, and as she held the babe in her arms, Eleanor found great joy.
However, upon her return to Scarlett Hall, a letter awaited her informing her of the death of Lady Rachel Prescott. Eleanor had closed herself off in the study and wept for her friend, whom she would miss terribly. Rachel had a strength about her that Eleanor admired, and it had shown in her daughter as brightly as the sun.
Once she had cried as many tears as she could, she dried her eyes, took out a piece of parchment, and set about adding an entry to her journal, a letter to her late husband.
Songs of Yesterday: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 5 Page 23