Page 37 of A Love to Remember
With that, Elaine left the room.
The moment she was alone, Rose forgot all about her list.
Instead, she stood, walked to the window, and gazed out on the Roxborough estate. She had stood here once before, not quite twenty years old, having just learned she was carrying a child. All she could see before her then was a lonely, unbearable, slave-like life.
It wasn’t that Lord Roxborough was an ogre. He was simply thoughtless. When he came to her bed, it was under the cover of darkness, they both kept their night rails on, and it was over quickly, for which she sincerely thanked God. Roxborough had no idea how to arouse a woman—saw no use for Rose at all except as a vehicle to give him a son—and the couplings were always painful.
Learning then that she was with child, her first thought had been that there was now no further reason for her husband to come to her bed and she would be free of that awful torture. And she was right. It was almost as if he saw the bedding of her as distasteful. He never set foot in her room again.
Her second thought had been to pray for a son. If she bore Roxborough a son she wouldneverhave to share her husband’s bed again. She gave no thought to the child she carried except as a means to an end, and all through her pregnancy she struggled to form any bond with the life growing inside her.
She had no idea Drake would change her life.
When she did hold her baby in her arms for the first time, love consumed her. She had not expected to feel so much. For the first time since her marriage, she cared for someone other than herself. Everything she had been through, she would’ve endured again, if it meant a chance to cradle this child—this beautiful baby—in her arms.
And fate had stepped in a second time that day. Upon learning Rose had borne him a son, the Duke of Roxborough ordered the preparation of a party for the entire estate, toasted his son’s good health, smoked an imported cigar, tossed back a glass of whisky—and then collapsed and died from apoplexy.
For Rose, the birth of her son had been an exhausting but perfect day.
Now she stood here again, a child growing within her. This time her heart was light, her smile was sincere. She rested a palm on her flat belly, already embracing the life growing inside her. This was Philip’s child. Hers and Philip’s. She did not care whether she had a girl or a boy. Either would be perfect, because it would be part of Philip. When they married there would be time aplenty to provide him his heir.
—
Luckily, the snow held off for Rose’s journey to Wiltshire. They had to overnight in Devon, and when Drake asked why they didn’t stay with Lord Cumberland she simply said Lord Cumberland had already left to go to Lord Kirkwood’s. This seemed to pacify him.
Instead, they stayed at a small coaching inn just north of the Cumberland estate. She stayed there regularly when Philip wanted to see her but—because Portia was not in residence—she was unable to stay at Flagstaff Castle. They would meet here in secret.
She knew the innkeeper and his wife, Margaret, well, and it would appear town gossip spread quickly.
“I was very sorry to hear that you and Lord Cumberland—that is to say—that you are not such good friends anymore.” Margaret was not fishing for gossip. She really was commiserating with Rose over the breakup of their relationship.
“We are still friends,” Rose told her, truthfully. “But for the moment, perhaps not as close as we were.”
“His Lordship was in here about a sennight ago.” Margaret stood, wringing her hands as if she wanted to impart information but didn’t know whether she should.
“Was he? I hope he is well.”
“He was well, Your Grace. It was the young lady with him. They called her Faith. It was obvious to me that she was with child. Apparently, she’s been given one of the cottages on the south side of the estate and works at the big house.”
Faith. Where had Rose heard that name before? And then she remembered Faith was the name of the prostitute Tremain had written to her about.
It took Rose an effort not to let her shock show on her face. “Are you saying it’s Lord Cumberland’s child?”
For almost two years, Philip had made sure he never got her with child. He insisted on her using a sponge, or he would use a French letter, or he would simply spill his seed outside her body. But in only a few months since the ending of their affair he had managed to get a young girl with child.
Rose knew accidents happened, or couples got caught up in the moment. That’s how she now found herself with child. Philip had been so overcome with desire he had broken his own rule with no encouragement from her.
Margaret shrugged. “Who can say? He did seem to take a great amount of interest in her well-being. I—I just thought you needed to know. His lordship left for Lord Kirkwood’s estate yesterday. I know that’s where you’re heading, too.”
“I appreciate your concern.” Rose was now desperate to get away from the woman. “I know Lord Cumberland is an excellent employer who takes good care of his staff whether in his homes or on his estate. It does not surprise me that he’s shown special kindness to a woman who is with child, and on her own. But thank you for telling me.”
And with a smile and a nod she turned and made her way upstairs to the rooms set aside for her, Drake, and Elaine.
She could not believe Philip would have moved on to another lover so soon, but then men had needs. And if he was not in love with her, why wouldn’t he have found someone else? Looking back she was a fool to think he would marry her. Not once had he lied or misled her. He’d never professed love.
How ironic though. For a man who did not wish to become a father, it would appear Philip was to become a father twice over. She felt a twinge of sorrow for young Faith. There was no chance that Philip would marry her. At least Rose did not have to compete with a lady of her social standing. She shuddered to think what Philip would have done if he’d had to choose between her and, for example, Lady Philomena.
She knew Philip would choose her.
