The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel
Page 28
“I do not know whether you were innocent,” Reverend Miller replied perhaps just a touch defensively. “Only God knows our hearts, after all.”
“But you can vouch for my character,” Adam rebutted. Though he was seated in a comfortable armchair in front of the fire, he felt as though he were sparring in a fencing ring. “You know that I am not capable of committing the unforgivable evil that my father has attributed to me. You can make him see sense, I have no doubt.”
“I am not sure that the Duke would listen to my opinion,” Reverend Miller replied, his voice growing more gentle as he intoned these painful words.
“That might be so,” Adam conceded, “But all I know at present is that my father will not even look me in the eye, and I know him well enough to know that when he is in this mind, there is no persuading him of anything.
“I understand that you are not sure that your intervention will help the matter. But please be assured that it certainly cannot cause any further harm, and it may soften him a little so that he might listen to what I have to say. The situation already appears to be beyond repair, yet I come to you because I have great faith in your counsel and in the grace of God.”
The Reverend Miller’s grey and rather desiccated features turned sympathetic at these words, and Adam perceived that what he had said had clearly touched the clergyman’s heart.
Adam strode down the stone steps from the vicarage and toward the rough wooden gate. So preoccupied was he with his thoughts — so overwhelmed with the sheer impact of all that had taken place that morning — he did not see the young lady until they had almost collided.
“Miss Miller,” he said at once, fumbling with his hat to greet her, for whom he assumed the young lady to be. The young lady who had once been the little girl who was his playmate, who had run about with him on the lawns of Lawley Hall in a state of perfect carefreeness.
It was, of course, Miss Miller. He recognized her at once, now that they were both in a more familiar context.
Before that morning, Adam had not seen Charity Miller in some years. Ever since she had changed from a girl into a young woman, her father seemed to have embraced every excuse to keep her cloistered from view. Even at church, their paths had scarcely crossed, and as far as Adam was concerned, the vicar’s daughter was characterized only by her shielding bonnet and her lowered gaze.
And, of course, there was the fact that he had not seen Charity at all in the past year, and at Charity’s time of life, a single year could work a great deal of change on the manner of a young woman.
Certainly, she was nothing like the lady he had met in the grove that morning. The girl of the flushed cheeks and bright eyes, her bonnet swinging from her hand as she walked with free and easy grace.
Yet the two young women were one and the same, and at that moment, Adam was entirely taken aback.
The first few moments were taken up with a flurry of apologies and niceties. But then, at once, Adam realized the young lady before him was the same as the one he had met in the grove, scarcely an hour before.
Her bonnet was reinstated in its rightful place, and her rosy cheeks had lost a little of their bloom after her demure walk back up the lane.
Yet her eyes were as bright and as intriguing as those eyes that had so thrown him off balance earlier that very morning. Adam was not usually particularly susceptible to the superficial charms of a pretty young woman, but Miss Miller struck him as a great deal more than pretty. She had the sort of grace and poise that seemed to exert a magnetic quality, and he found that he could not look away from her.
“Apologies, Miss Miller,” he said. “I did not mean to block your way.”
He made no allusion to their earlier meeting in the grove. After all, what was there to say?
“There is no apology required,” she replied. Despite the keenness of her gaze, she seemed to hesitate. Adam instantly remembered, since he had left his father’s house a year ago, he had been stripped of his honorary titles. Presumably, Miss Miller did not know how she ought to address him and for that reason was remaining silent.
“I offer it anyway,” Adam replied. I apologize for not recognizing you earlier, he thought but did not say.
Last time he had seen her she had been a little child, dark-haired and scrawny. Now she was tall and slender and graceful, though still with the same dark hair and eyes
“We should not apologize for things that are not our fault,” she said. “It sets a dangerous precedent, and stops us and those around us from knowing what is real and what is not.”
Her words, spoken seemingly on a whim, had a prophetic quality that caught Adam off guard. We should not apologize for things that are not our fault… its stops us from knowing what is real and what is not.
He thought immediately of his father, and wondered whether Miss Miller was possessed of some strange intuition that allowed her to read him as easily as a book.
He allowed his eyes to search her face, taking in every detail, her beauty striking him more strongly with every passing second.
The expression on her face gave way to a smile.
It was a smile that Adam recognized from a far simpler time, the smile of one playmate greeting another. That smile drew them both down the years and into an old intimacy, despite the many changes and obstacles that now stood between them.
Despite himself, and despite the strangeness and sorrow of that morning, Adam found himself smiling back. A smile of greeting and recognition. He felt a leaping in his chest, like the stirring of spring. His heart felt lighter all at once.
“Good morning, Mr. Harding,” Miss Miller said and passed by him up the path with a small curtsey, leaving Adam with the last remnants of a smile.
“Good morning, Miss Miller.” He stood to watch her disappear up the path and into the vicarage.
He had to own, even if only to himself, that the sight of her face again filled him with a sense of bodily lightness, a lightness that contrasted powerfully with the weight of his previous sorrows.
And yet, he reminded himself, it is of no consequence whether your head is turned by the charms of the Reverend Miller’s daughter. For the matter at hand is this: two people are dead and your own father believes you to be guilty of their murder.
He had not been able to bring himself to say the words, even in the company of the Reverend Miller. And yet now, having laid eyes once again on Charity Miller and recognizing her for who she was — a lovely young woman, not some strange spirit of the grove — he felt that it was time to face reality.
To face it, he thought a little wryly, and with a little luck, to resolve it.
A little way off from the vicarage, the church clock began to chime midday.
Adam set off back toward Lawley Hall, observing that he had experienced elation and despair and every manner of emotion in between already, and the day was only half-done.
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Thank you very much
Also by Hanna Hamilton
Thank you for reading The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean the world to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read!
Some other best sellers of mine:
Charity Falls for the Rejected Duke
The Obscure Duchess of Godwin Hall
The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady
A Pure Lady for the Broken Duke
The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess
The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess
Also, if you liked this book, you can also check out my full Amazon Book Catalogue HERE.
Thank you for allowing me to keep doing what I love!
Hanna Hamilton
About the Author
Hanna Hamilton has been fascinated with the regency era ever since she was a young tee
n, first discovering historical romance novels by famous authors such as Jane Austen and Lisa Kleypas. She believes that love was just so much more magical back then, more like a fairy tale. She always daydreamed about finding love herself that way, but since that is impossible in the twenty first century, she decided to write about it instead!
Born in Texas, Hanna Hamilton obtained a degree in Creative Writing, and has worked as a literature teacher before becoming a novelist. When she isn’t writing, Hanna likes to explore the countryside with her husband and two children, gaining inspiration from the natural world around her.
So, come on a journey into love, confusion, and redemption all within the regency era. Hanna hopes that you will enjoy immersing yourself into her novels, and that you too will find a love for old fashioned romance, just as she has.
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