The Defiant Governess of Rosenhill Manor: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hamilton, Hanna

  Arthur knew very well that the man responsible was more than likely present and doubted they would come forward, but he had to try. If they thought they would face the courts and possible hanging, they would never reveal themselves.

  Perhaps a compromise?

  “I do not blame any man for wanting revenge against my father for his deeds, but he is gone, and I am not he. I simply wish to live in peace with my fellow man and provide a secure life for my family. If any of you are responsible, I would gladly forget everything and continue on in the knowledge that we have made our amends, but my driver’s family deserves justice. I would be willing to arrange a monetary remuneration for his family in lieu of the courts,” he offered, “or a reward for any information.”

  More muttering swept around the room like a murmuration of starlings ebbing and flowing through the air. Arthur knew he risked angering the noblemen further by asking such a thing, as some might take it as an accusation and be insulted, but he had no choice. The men huddled together to discuss the matter. When they were done and had convinced themselves that none of them had been the culprit, they turned back to Arthur.

  “Our apologies, Your Grace, but it was not one of us, and I fear we do not possess the information you desire. Perhaps it was another of your father’s victims?” the first nobleman offered.

  “Perhaps,” Arthur accepted the information, but was not quite sure he believed that none of them were guilty of desiring his death. “I thank you for your willingness to aid me, and for hearing me. I will remain in the library to speak with each of you personally about returning the funds you lost to my father. Please feel free to partake in the splendid dinner that has been provided in the dining room for your enjoyment by our generous host, the Duke of Durton.”

  Duncan bowed in acknowledgement of Arthur’s words then address the gathering, “If you would be so kind as to follow me to the dining room.”

  Duncan took the noblemen to dine, while Arthur waited alone in the library for whomever wished to speak with him. If the assassin was among those in attendance, Arthur’s vulnerable position would allow them to attempt to finish the job. Duncan had foreseen this as a possibility and had men waiting just outside the windows watching, ready to pounce upon any assailant that might attack.

  Arthur sat waiting in silence and was glad that he had not had to include the children as innocent victims themselves to make the men see sense.

  Eliza will be relieved. I fear she was quite angry with me over the idea of involving them at all. She is an excellent governess, protecting Gabriel and Charlotte so fiercely as if they were her own.

  An image of Eliza as the mother to his own future children came to mind catching him completely off guard as did the longing that filled his heart at the picturesque scene.

  I want her more than I have ever wanted another.

  The attempts on his life were making him rethink his stance on preserving his reputation as fiercely as he did. His reputation would not do him much good if he were dead. The thought of death made him reconsider many things in his life. Had he died on the road, he would have regretted that he had not married and had children. He longed to fill Rosenhill with the sounds of laughter and the effervescent glow of familial love.

  He had not previously married due to his father’s cruelty and the utter lack of caring from his own mother. He did not feel right about bringing another person into the misery that haunted Rosenhill’s halls. Eliza’s strength had made him rethink that notion as well. She had slipped into their lives as seamlessly as if she had always been there. Arthur had to admit that there was a part of him that hoped she always would be.

  She has brought hope and light where only darkness lived.

  Thinking about Eliza made him long for her presence. They had spent every day since her arrival at Rosenhill together, and he had increasingly grown to depend on her company and opinion. He drew strength from her strength, bravery from her bravery. Without him realizing it, she had become a part of him, an internal voice that told him he was cared for and cared about. It was reassuring. Her presence made life easier, more enjoyable somehow even in the worst of pain.

  Almost as if I loved her…

  He thought of Duncan’s words from their night in the dressing room and felt ashamed of his judgmental reaction. Eliza did not deserve to be spoken of as an inappropriate match regardless of what society thought.

  I have been obsessive in my need to regain my family’s honor and yet all it took was one meeting with my father’s noble victims for them to accept me and my word. She has weathered every storm my father’s misdeeds have produced with courage and dignity. I am a fool to think such a match would compromise my family’s honor. For a love such as hers, a man would be the worst sort of fool not to surrender his all. I have been just such a man, but no more. I love her and nothing, no amount of perceived dishonorable conduct or repercussions of social ruin, will keep from acting upon it.

  A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Enter.”

  A young lord entered the room and came over to sit in the chair beside Arthur. “Your Grace,” he greeted bowing before he sat. “I am Philip Montgomery, Baron of Canmore.”

  “Please, call me Arthur,” Arthur invited smiling at the young man’s nervousness. He was but a newly appointed baron, and it was evident he did not feel as if he belonged among so many high-ranking lords. “I believe you came to hold your title around the same time as I, did you not?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I mean Arthur,” he stumbled his words failing him.

  “Rest at ease. You are among friends.” Arthur reassured him feeling a great deal of empathy for him. “May I call you Philip or would you prefer Baron Montgomery?”

  “Yes, of course. Please, call me Philip,” the young baron replied relaxing somewhat. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace…” He blushed for having forgotten again so soon. “Arthur, but you said you wished to speak with each of us individually?”

  “Yes, I did. Please speak freely,” Arthur urged him.

  “It was not I that your father, the late Duke, was blackmailing, but my mother. I have come on her behalf. When my father passed, she shared with me her shame when I discovered the expenditure while going over the accounts. Her payments to the Duke were exorbitant and have quite drained the family coffers. There is barely enough left to keep the estate running. It will help that we will no longer be making the payments, but I fear if we do not retrieve the lost funds, we will be forced to sell land,” he explained.

  “I see your predicament, and I feel most strongly for your situation. I myself have had to reorganize the way the estate is run in order to legitimize its income and repay those my father robbed. I have the number here in my father’s ledger. I have written you a missive to take to my solicitor giving him permission to restore the funds to your possession. I have written his name and address on the exterior so that you will know where to go,” Arthur handed him the letter.

  “Thank you, Arthur. I cannot tell you how much this means to me and my family,” Philip replied, his face alight with hope.

  “I would also like to extend an offer of my aid in assisting you to create a more solvent estate through agricultural means.” Arthur liked Philip and wished to help him in any way possible. He knew all too well the difficulties of taking over an estate from one’s father.

  “I would greatly appreciate any assistance or advice you could give me. I must admit I have felt at a loss since father’s passing and could use a friend,” Philip admitted. “I do not know either you or the Duke of Durton well, but I feel good about our acquaintance. We have both restored our family honor this day.”

  Arthur smiled at the baron joyous in their shared redemption. “I am greatly pleased to have met you, Philip. I only wish it had been under different circumstances.”

  “As do I, but we live the lives we are given,” Philip replied.

  “Indeed,” Arthur agreed, liking the young lord even more for his indomitable spirit. />
  “Once I have healed enough to return home, I would be glad to have you at Rosenhill for a visit,” Arthur invited. “I would like to show you what I have accomplished thus far with the animals and crops.”

  “I would be most pleased to accept your invitation,” Philip replied rising from the chair. He bowed and left the room smiling with a much lighter step than when he had entered.

  There is no possible way that that young man could have hired an assassin to kill me. His mother on the other hand…I may never know.

  Lords continued to come and go from the library carrying their letters of reparation. Arthur did not take to all of them as he had Philip, but he did not find a murderous heart among them. When the last lord had departed, Duncan returned to the library to hear Arthur’s assessment. “I could be wrong, but I do not believe our assassin was among the group.”

  “Nor do I,” Duncan admitted pouring them both a brandy and coming to sit in the seat next to Arthur. He handed him the glass and leaned back in his seat. “The evening was an unprecedented success in all other aspects, but the one.”

  “I must admit, I am somewhat relieved that it was not one of them. The scandal for everyone involved would have been beyond damaging. My father’s activities would no longer be kept private but would become public knowledge, ruining any chances of the children and I living normal lives. On the adverse side, that leaves our assassin unnamed,” Arthur remarked.

  “How do you wish to approach the rest of your father’s victims? I do not think a dinner party would be suitable,” Duncan asked.

  “Perhaps not. There are a great many for such an event,” Arthur replied thoughtfully. “Were it Boxing Day, our dilemma would be resolved as most of them would have turned out at your door for their gifts of food and essentials.”

  “It may not be Boxing Day, but we could do something quite similar,” Duncan offered.

  “People are struggling in the village. If we were to send out the invitation they would come,” Arthur answered. “It would not give us much time to speak with and assess the possible danger, but it would give me a chance to make the accounts whole once more and finally be done with the monetary aspects of this terrible business.”

  “As much as I wish to assist you in settling your father’s accounts, I am more concerned about your safety. If we do not ascertain who wishes you dead, then all of this will be for naught. You and the children cannot live this way forever, constantly on your guard,” Duncan warned. “Even so your father had more victims than those that he took money from as you well know.”

  “I am all too aware,” Arthur answered frowning in concern.

  “Have you told her what you suspect?” Duncan asked. “She has a right to hear it.”

  “No, I have not told her, and I do not intend to. If she knew the truth, she would never forgive me,” Arthur replied. “I hired her in part to make amends for what I suspected, but I have no proof, and without proof, I would be causing her needless pain.”

  “I almost wish you hadn’t told me about it,” Duncan remarked. “I feel as though I am lying to her by not telling her.”

  “I suppose in a way we are,” Arthur admitted.

  “If she ever gets her hands on the full set of your father’s ledgers, she will decipher the truth for herself,” Duncan prophesied.

  “I am aware,” Arthur retorted, “and on that day she’ll leave us all and never return.” A fate I cannot endure...

  Chapter 19

  “He has done what!?” Margaret screeched rising from her seat upon the settee.

  Ludlow paced the drawing room floor in a fury, “He has returned every last shilling of the money Hugh and I extorted. Every last shilling!”

  “He will ruin us!” Margaret cried.

  “It was an enormous sum. He has also informed them that I do not possess the materials to blackmail them, and so they have stopped payment, every last one of them.” Ludlow pounded his fist upon a table to punctuate his words. “Not only has he not joined me and turned back the tides of rebellion, but he has also orchestrated our ruin!”

  “Just like his father, only ever caring for himself,” Margaret declared plopping back down upon the settee in a huff.

  “He is nothing like his father. I wish he were,” Ludlow proclaimed. “Hugh would never have done something so foolish. Does Arthur honestly believe that his paltry agricultural efforts are going to provide for the estate?”

  Margaret snorted in disgust. “Pigs, sheep, crops, hardly the work of a nobleman of his breeding.”

  “The lords practically crowed their victory to my face,” Ludlow fumed. “The entire enterprise has collapsed. I will be forced to start over, to rebuild. Years of work undone in the space of a week.”

  “He must be stopped,” Margaret demanded. “He will ruin everything, all of our plans for the future.”

  Ludlow turned and went to take Margaret’s hands into his own. “No matter what happens, he will not keep us apart. I will have your hand in marriage if it is the last thing I do upon this earth. I swear it.”

  “He will never give his blessing. I needed that money to buy my freedom,” Margaret insisted.

  “I know you had planned to buy the neighboring estate under the guise of establishing a widow’s household, but given time I will get you the funds. I will not allow his foolishness to deny you your freedom. Once you are out from beneath his control, we will marry as we always planned. There will be no Hugh to bar you from me this time,” Ludlow promised.

  “I cannot stand it here. His ghost walks the halls taunting me. I wish to be free of him and his children,” Margaret complained. “I cannot bear another year imprisoned within these walls.”

  “You are a Duchess, my dear. Rosenhill is hardly a prison,” Ludlow attempted to soothe her.

  “You know nothing of the degradations I have suffered here. Nothing!” Margaret shrieked becoming hysterical.

  “Shhh,” Ludlow took her into his arms. “The money is replaceable. I will find a way to get it for you. You have my word of honor as a nobleman.”

  “Ludlow, I cannot stay here,” Margaret sobbed. “I cannot.”

  Ludlow held her close, cursing Arthur’s name and his father’s before him.

  She was mine and Hugh took her from me. I will not allow Arthur to do the same. She will be my wife. I will blackmail every noble in the land if I must, extort every tradesman and crofter, whatever it takes.

  * * *

  Arthur, Duncan, Eliza, and the children stood in a row in the main hall at Durton Manor and greeted the villagers as they arrived. Each man, woman, and child was given something to eat and some coin. Those who were in Arthur’s father’s ledgers were invited to speak with Arthur privately and refunded any monies they had overpaid during supposed taxations and rents.

  Eliza was thrilled to see Mrs. Wainwright once more. “How is Mr. Wainwright’s leg coming along?” She inquired embracing the wagon maker’s wife.

  “Wonderfully! The fever has broken, and he is sitting up and feeding himself once more,” Mrs. Wainwright gushed with praise. “Even his humor is returning.”

  “That is splendid! I am so happy for you!” Eliza exclaimed clutching Mrs. Wainwright’s hands between her own.

  “’Twas the work of the mysterious stranger who came to my door that night. His return of our taxes allowed my husband the care of a physician turning the tides. I do not know what I would have done had I been left a widow,” Mrs. Wainwright proclaimed.

  Eliza looked to Arthur remembering the night he had come to her rescue. There was something about him that drew her more than any other person she had ever met.

  He is a true hero in every sense of the word, as noble as King Arthur himself.

  Arthur looked up as if he had sensed her thoughts and smiled at her. Eliza blushed and turned back to Mrs. Wainwright. “Won’t you stay a while and have a spot of tea?” she asked, feeling as though her time with Mrs. Wainwright had been another lifetime ago when it had been but a few wee
ks.

  “Thank you, but no. I must return to my husband. Perhaps another time?” Mrs. Wainwright answered sincerely.

  “Of course. Anytime you wish,” Eliza replied hugging the woman once more and bidding her farewell.

  Eliza surveyed the large number of people before her and found it hard to believe that any of them could be a threat. The room was full of the poverty-riddled, elderly, children, and widows. What kind of a monster preys on the weak and helpless? Arthur’s father had. She supposed when desperate, anyone could be capable of anything.