Page 48 of A Love to Remember
The reference to Marisa’s younger sister and her coming out veered the conversation away from more dangerous topics. Soon the women were excitedly chatting about the coming Season, Helen’s part in it, and Marisa’s plans and excitement.
Rose, loving the chance to be involved, promised to help by introducing Helen to her dressmaker. She had not experienced a Season of her own. Her father had married her to Roxborough on the day she turned eighteen. Helen was so lucky to have a brother who would let her choose her own husband.
Eventually, Wilson came in to collect the boys, and Beatrice rose. “This is delightful and we’ll continue it later. But Helen’s gowns are for the future. Our need is more urgent. We’d best ready ourselves for dinner, ladies.”
Chattering like a flock of birds, the ladies went upstairs together.
When Rose entered her bedchamber she saw that Elaine had arranged her gown for the evening on the bed. But Elaine herself was nowhere to be seen.
As she neared the bed, excitement, not nausea, fluttered in her stomach. On the pillow lay a white rose, and under it, a note. Philip always left a white rose with his notes.
Smiling, she crossed the room, picked up the rose, and lifted it to her nose. It had a wonderful scent. He must have picked it in the orangery because roses did not bud in mid-winter. A good sign. One that showed he was looking forward to their meeting later that night.
Still smiling, she picked up the folded but unsealed note.
Her silly, love-struck grin faded as she read.
If you want your young duke to live
The name of your babe’s father you will not give
Lord Cumberland you cannot tell
Or you’ll hear the death toll of the bell
A cold sweat popped upon her skin and she sank to her knees, the note trembling in her hand. Drake had been the intended target.
She leaned forward, resting her head on the edge of the bed as panic built inside her until she could barely breathe.
Had Elaine betrayed her and spoken out of turn? No. Elaine had been with her since Rose had turned fourteen. She loved Drake and had appeared genuinely concerned at his fall. Rose could not believe Elaine would be party to anything that threatened either of them.
What was she to do? She needed help, but who could help her? Who could she trust? Whoever was behind this horror was watching her closely. How else would they know of her condition? She daren’t tell Philip now, not until—until when? Until the baby was born? How could she possibly hide that she was with child for six months? Then how could she explain a baby to Drake, to society, oh, God, to Lord Kirkwood?
Her immediate reaction was to pack up and leave the party. But where would they go?
In that moment she understood just how alone she really was. There was no one to help her. To confide in. To care—
That had been her choice. When her husband had died, she had brazenly declared that she did not need another husband, but as her relationship with Philip developed, she realized that declaration had been a way to protect her life. She could not bear to be married off to another man who did not care for her or love her. If she was ever to marry, she knew it would have to be for love, and the only man her heart cried out for was Philip.
One of the only men who never asked for her hand in marriage.
On a sob she crushed the note in her fist and beat the bed, trying to think what to do.
“Your bath is ready, Your—” Elaine broke off and then ran to her side. “Oh, my lady, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Rose fought for control. “It’s nothing. But I want Drake to sleep with me, in my bed tonight. Will you fetch him for me, please, and stay with him until I retire after dinner? Wilson can watch Henry. I’ll feel better if I watch my son myself.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Elaine spoke soothingly, obviously realizing how upset she was. “Shall I fetch Lord Cumberland?”
“No!” She forced herself to be calm. To think. “No. I want to be alone.” She got to her feet, keeping the note crushed in her fist. “But while you’re watching Drake this evening I’d like you to pack for us. Do it secretly, Elaine. And only what is necessary to enable us to reach London. Tell no one, do you understand?”
She had no idea what she would tell Kirkwood. If she told him anything. “We’ll leave before the rest of the household is up and can send for everything else once we are safely in London.” She did not want to be on the road at nightfall.
“We are leaving?” Elaine sounded blank. “But I thought—oh, my lady, is His Grace in danger?”
She couldn’t answer the question. “I would simply feel safer in my own house.” It was true.
“Shouldn’t you wait to see what Lord Cumberland—” Elaine stopped, apparently recognizing Rose’s unyielding look. “Yes, Your Grace, I shall pack lightly enough that our leaving can be discreet.” She turned to go, but then turned back, her face a mask of anger. “I never believed Lord Cumberland would be so dishonorable. He’s not worthy of you, my lady. Not worthy at all.” And with that she stalked from the room.
