Page 45 of Papa's Captive
Chapter 20
William sat at his desk for a long period of time after his visitors left. Lady Wartwhistle had been nearly apoplectic when he had refused to disavow his wife and had, in fact, retained the services of his cousin’s own detective to clear the name of Rosie’s father.
If such a thing were actually possible.
Given the change in allegiances between Lady Wartwhistle and Mr. Hoffman, William thought it best to provide Mr. Hoffman with transportation from the Caldwell livery. The better to get him on his way to his new task speedily, as well.
With a full tumbler of brandy—which he refilled more than once—William read the entire collection of newspaper clippings and when he had finished, he read them all again, slowly digesting the facts of his darling Rosie’s life.
His emotions moved from heartbreak that his beloved had been forced to endure such a tragedy to anger that she had been in the situation at all. The newspapers had made great sport of a high government official charged with treason and felt free to air all of the family’s dirty laundry across the front pages. No doubt the Andrews family’s tragedy was good for sales.
Among the clippings he found a death notice for Rosie’s mother dated shortly after the charges were brought against her husband. In a separate newspaper story, the details of her severe nervous disorder were described and it was hinted that her husband ought to be charged with her murder as well considering the strain of his traitorous acts. Rosie, an only child, was left to face the public spectacle and humiliation alone.
He had arranged the clippings in chronological order, his blood boiling as he read the charges and evidence against the accused. Even to a layman such as himself, it appeared something was amiss in the entire prosecution. It gave him small consolation to hope Mr. Hoffman might be able to restore Rosie’s father’s reputation. Nothing could bring him back to life or undo the horror and trauma inflicted upon sweet Rosie.
When he read a description of the angry mob outside the courthouse after the verdict was announced, yelling for the hanging to be carried out immediately, an image of Rosie on their ride to Gretna Green, hiding under the carriage seat and terrified, popped into his mind, as did her anxiety over the crowds on the streets of the small town. It all made sense now, as did her hesitation to set a wedding date. The scandal caused by her father’s trial was more than most upstanding families could overlook in a potential wife.
If he had known the whole story...how would he have reacted?
He shuddered to think he might have been as foolish as the rest. What would have happened to Rosie then? And more selfishly than that...how desolate would his life be without her in it?
As he stared at the drawing of her heartbroken face, an overwhelming urge to be with and comfort his bride came over him. Securing the clippings in his desk under lock and key, he went in search of Rosie, more determined than ever to see to her happiness every single day.
He found her in the garden reading. Before she noticed him, he took a moment to study her, her beautiful hair glistening in the sunlight, her delicate face intent upon the contents of the book in her lap. His heart swelled so large with love for her, he feared it might burst from his chest.
As he moved toward her, she looked up and saw him, a smile lighting her face at his approach. “Hello, Papa, I am happy to see you. I have missed you while you were busy.” She reached out her hand to him, and he took it and kissed the palm before settling onto the garden bench next to her.
“I missed you as well, my darling.” His gaze roamed over her, taking in every precious detail.
“Papa, you are looking at me as a starving man sees a cut of meat,” she said, touching his cheek.
He clasped her hand and held it to his face. “You are my sustenance, sweet Rosie. I wish never to be parted from you.”
“Papa, you spoil me with your flowery words. But, I am flattered as well.”
He released her hand and she folded it in her lap, the book resting on the bench on her other side. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Papa,” she said, glancing up at him, “there is something I feel I must confess to you.”
Was it possible Rosie was about to share with him the same news he had already learned? ‘Twould be a relief to have the issue in the open air between them. He longed to reassure her of his continued devotion, regardless of what might have happened to her family. Mentally preparing to respond in a way that would not reveal his pre-knowledge of what she was about to say, he nodded and said, “Yes, Rosie, what is it you feel the need to confess?”
“I happened to see the Wartwhistle crest on the carriage which arrived here earlier,” she said.
“Yes, Lady Wartwhistle is my cousin, though it pains me to say it. She is a most unpleasant person and I hope you will not have the misfortune of knowing her.”
“That is what I wish to confess, Papa. I have already had such a misfortune. She came to call several days ago while you were at the meeting with your tenants.”
Ah, that answered a question that had been nudging at his brain. How had Joyce even known enough to start investigating Rosie? But, even he knew that Rosie was not his bride’s given name. When next he spoke with Mr. Hoffman, he would endeavor to find out the source of his cousin’s information which started the investigation and led to Charles Andrews.
“I see,” he said. “And why did you not inform me of her visit before now?”
“Well, Papa,” she paused. “I behaved very badly.”
Papa cocked his head to the side and arched a brow at his bride. “What did you do that was so very bad, my Rosie?”
“I-I might have gone out of my way to shock her. I told her about Talcott House and how Cynny used to be in a street gang called The Weasels. I am sorry, Papa, but she was so unpleasant, an overwhelming urge to misbehave came over me.”
Ah, so Lady Wartwhistle had gotten the false idea Cynny had been in a street gang from Rosie herself. He cleared his throat and lifted an eyebrow at her in censure. “Rosie, you know I will not tolerate lying,” he said the words in his best stern papa voice but it was difficult not to laugh imagining his cousin’s reaction.
