Secrets of Scarlett Hall Box Set: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Jennifer Monroe

  Robert walked up to Juliet. “You are a wonderful partner, indeed.”

  Juliet smiled. “I am glad I am able to help,” she said. “I would like to ask a favor of you, if I may.”

  “Yes, of course. We are business partners…and friends. I will do whatever you ask if I am able.”

  Relief washed over her. “Thank you,” she said. “Much has transpired since I last saw you. I am afraid that Mother caught me and Daniel in a…let us just say that it was unfortunate and leave it at that, and Lord Parsons was with her.”

  “I see,” Robert said with raised brows. “I imagine you have gotten yourself into all sorts of trouble?”

  “Yes.” Just the thought of what her mother wanted her to do pierced her heart. “I am no longer allowed to see Daniel, and he refuses to take me with him when he leaves. He fears upsetting Mother, and I need help.”

  Robert grimaced. “I’m not sure I know what I can do,” he said. “This is a complicated matter.”

  “My mother risks everything to see you,” Juliet pleaded. “Would you perhaps speak with her and tell her that she should allow me to see Daniel? Please, I do not wish to beg, but I am desperate. I need a friend right now.”

  “You do,” Robert replied as he placed a hand on Juliet’s arm. “And I am the friend you can trust. But I fear that I am also the friend who will hurt you by speaking the truth.”

  Juliet eyed him carefully. “Truth? What truth?”

  He sighed. “I have never thought a lady half my age would teach me the merits of honor and friendship, but you have, so I will tell you what I know.”

  Juliet nodded. “Please.”

  “I have already spoken to your mother concerning Daniel. I tried to reason with her, to explain how much you care for him, but she refused to listen. You see, Lord Parsons is a wealthy man, far wealthier than many realize. Your mother wants to purchase a cottage at the seaside for when her children are gone.”

  “No,” Juliet said with a gasp. “You mean, she…”

  “Has taken some payment already from Lord Parsons?” He nodded. “She has. And he has promised the rest when you have married him.”

  Juliet shook her head in disbelief. “Then it is truly over,” she whispered. Her heart ached not only for the loss of Daniel but for her mother’s betrayal. “I cannot believe she did this. My happiness in exchange for money?”

  “I am sorry to be the one to tell you,” Robert said sadly. “However, I may have a solution.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Threaten her,” he said. “And use me as a pawn.”

  “What?” Juliet asked, aghast. “Threaten her? She is my mother, I cannot…”

  “Do you wish to be with Daniel?” he asked. She nodded. “Then it is simple. Tell her that if you cannot be with the man you love, you will tell everyone about her relationship with me. She will have no choice but to allow you to see him.”

  The suggestion made her feel ill. “I cannot,” she whispered. “I love her too much.”

  “You are kind,” Robert said with a sigh. “To love someone who clearly does not love you is a rare being indeed.”

  His words stung her heart. “She does love me,” she said. Then she paused. “Does she not?”

  Robert shrugged as he walked around to the other side of the counter to grab a ledger. “I will not be seeing her tomorrow, for I am leaving for two days. But think about what I said. Either you marry Lord Parsons or the stable boy. It is your choice.”

  Juliet nodded, the numbness greater than it had ever been in her life. However, what he said was true. It was her choice. And she would do what was best for her in the end.

  Yet, was what was best for her best for everyone else who was important in her life? That was the question that weighed on her mind as she left the shop, still uncertain what she would decide.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Candlelight cast a soft glow on the rain pelted window as Juliet lay in bed, sleep evading her. Her thoughts were of Daniel and the hope he was not as heartbroken as she. However, it was much to ask, she knew, for how could he not be? Their love was pure and beautiful, and Juliet had thought nothing could tear them apart.

  Yet, her mother’s wishes had been their undoing.

  The fact her mother wished to purchase a cottage for herself was unlike her. She rarely left the house as it was, and Juliet had no doubt as to how much she enjoyed living at Scarlett Hall. Granted, Nathaniel would take over the house when he became of age, but that was years away; the boy was only fourteen!

  Another issue that bothered Juliet was her mother’s wish that she, Juliet, marry Lord Parsons. That concern was more understandable yet did not sit with Juliet any better than her separation from the man she loved.

  Sighing, she moved back the covers and donned her dressing gown and slippers. With one of the candles in hand, she made her way toward the staircase. No other lights peeked beneath any of the doors, nor were any lit in the hallway.

  The fire in the drawing room should still be burning, she thought. There, she would pour herself a glass of brandy and drink away her final days of freedom.

  Her slippered feet made no noise as she made her way down the stairs. She could hear the wind howling outside the front door, and she shivered from a draft. When she reached the drawing room, she was surprised to see the door sitting open and her mother curled up on the couch with a book on her lap and a drink in her hand, the fireplace aglow.

  Robert’s suggestion came to her mind, and Juliet shook her head. The idea of blackmailing her mother made her ill; she loved the woman despite the hurt she had caused, and Juliet could not bring herself to do it.

  Her mother looked up and smiled. “Oh, Juliet, you startled me.” She set the book aside and placed her feet on the floor. “Would you care to join me?”

  Juliet nodded, closed the door, and looked at the array of decanters on the liquor cart. “May I have a small drink?”

  Her mother nodded her head, and Juliet poured herself a glass of brandy—a tiny measure for her mother’s benefit.

  “You have been especially quiet since your return from the village,” her mother said. “It is not like you.”

  Juliet took a sip of the brandy before responding, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts. “I have been thinking…” Juliet’s heart tore as she turned to face her mother. She loved the woman, yet she loved Daniel.

  No! I cannot blackmail her! she told herself once again.

  Her mother placed her glass on the side table and rose. “What is wrong? I can see it on your face that something is bothering you.”

  “I cannot do it,” Juliet murmured as she lowered herself into one of the large wingback chairs across from her mother. “As much as I love Daniel, I cannot do it.”

  “Do what?”

  Juliet drank the remainder of her brandy—barely enough to wet her lips as far as she was concerned—and set the glass on the table. “Blackmail you. I was advised to do so in order to pressure you into allowing me to see Daniel.”

  “And what would you use to blackmail me?” Her mother’s voice was guarded.

  “Robert,” Juliet replied simply. “I would threaten to tell everyone about your sordid relationship with Robert in hopes that you would allow me to see Daniel. However, I cannot do that, even if it means marrying another is the consequence of refusing to do so.” She looked up at the woman she loved with all her heart as tears filled her eyes. “I do not love him, but if you wish that I marry Lord Parsons in order to purchase the cottage, then I shall do so. I will do anything to make you happy.” The tears slipped over her lashes, and she did nothing to stop them.

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “A cottage? I have no use for a cottage.”

  Juliet clicked her tongue. “You do not have to lie, Mother. Robert told me everything. How Lord Parsons has given you money and…”

  “The man is a liar,” her mother spat. “You cannot believe anything he says, for every word he utters is a falsehood!�
� She turned and walked to the fireplace, her back to Juliet.

  Juliet leapt from her seat. “Then why do you see him in secret?” she demanded. “You speak as if he is Lucifer himself, yet he has been nothing but kind to me. If he is so awful, why do you allow him into our home?” She did not care that she was nearly shouting.

  “Juliet…”

  “I do not want excuses, Mother,” Juliet said, her anger rising. “Why are you allowed to see a cobbler but I am unable to see a stable hand? Why do you speak ill of him and yet want him in your arms? Is it your jealousy?”

  Her mother spun around, her skirts swishing around her ankles. “Jealousy?”

  “Yes, jealousy. Robert told me that you are jealous of my mind and beauty…” her words trailed off as her mother turned her gaze to the floor.

  “He has lied to you,” her mother said, her voice just above a whisper. “He has lied to you more than I would have ever thought he would. I am not jealous of him nor of you.”

  Juliet shook her head. “I am confused. Why all the secrecy?” When her mother simply looked up and said nothing, she raised her voice. She would learn the truth! “Tell me! What is so special about this man?”

  Her mother wrung her hands. “He knows something,” she said, and a chill went down Juliet’s spine. “A secret I thought would never be revealed. It is this secret he threatens to expose that forces me to allow him into our home.”

  “A secret?”

  Her mother nodded. “I make payments to him every Tuesday in exchange for his silence. It was why when I first saw him I ordered you to stay away.”

  “Is that the reason you changed your mind and allowed me to return?”

  “It is.” Her mother’s voice was barely audible. “He wished to see you, and I had no choice. If I had denied him, he would have attempted to destroy you.” She shook her head. “Now that I have allowed it, I am afraid he has come close to doing just that anyway.”

  “Mother?” Juliet could do nothing to calm the trembling in her voice. “Why did he wish to see me? What is it about me that is a secret?”

  Her mother walked over to her and placed a hand on the side of her face. “My sweet Juliet,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I love you; you know this, do you not?”

  “Of course I do,” Juliet said, the words sticking in her throat. Did she wish to know what her mother kept hidden? However, if she did not learn of it now, would she ever? She had to know! “You are frightening me. What does Robert know?”

  Her mother dropped her hands to her side. “That he is your father.”

  Juliet’s stomach rolled and her heart leapt to her throat. “No, it cannot be!” she gasped. “My father died…”

  “It is true. I am so sorry. I never wished you to ever learn of it. However, the man has been blackmailing me since his return to Rumsbury, and I cannot protect you any longer.”

  Juliet fell to her knees sobbing, and her mother dropped down beside her. She pulled Juliet into her arms, and Juliet could do nothing to stop the wracking sobs that took over her body.

  The man who she thought her father, Lord Charles Lambert, was not. Her father was a simple cobbler, a man who blackmailed her mother.

  “I love you, and I am sorry,” her mother whispered as she ran her hand down Juliet’s hair. “If he were to tell anyone, no gentleman would ever have you. You would be disgraced and ignored.”

  When the sobs subsided, Juliet rose from the floor and went to the liquor cart, this time without asking her mother for permission. She poured herself a hefty serving of brandy and gulped it down, not caring that it burned her throat.

  Then she turned and faced her mother. “Your affair with the cobbler?” she asked. “Did Father know?”

  Her mother walked to the window without a response, and Juliet’s fear returned. “Mother?”

  “Join me,” she said.

  Juliet wiped the tears from her eyes and joined her mother at the window.

  Her mother put her arm around Juliet. “How many times I watched you and your siblings outside I cannot count. As I told you before, you hold a special place in my heart.”

  Juliet nodded as her mother began a story that would change her life forever.

  “For one hundred and fifty years, Scarlett Hall has held strong. However, it holds many secrets in its walls, and if you listen carefully, the voices of shadows past will tell you all you wish to know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Scarlett Hall 1788

  Let us hope this time it is a boy. I do not want a house full of girls and no heirs.

  Those were the last words Eleanor had heard from her husband before he left for Glasgow a month earlier. From there, the man would go to Manchester and then Paris. He had other places on his itinerary, but she had been told in no uncertain terms that it was none of her concern. What had been her concern at the time was that she was with child, expected to arrive in five months when her husband was not due to return for six.

  She took a deep breath and ran her hand over the tiny mound under her dress as she peered through the bedroom window. Her eyes soaked in the rolling green hills that stretched far across the horizon. All the land, for as far as eyes could see, belonged to her family, and she loved every bit of it.

  Raising a glass to her lips, she took a large gulp of wine. Her consumption of the beverage began earlier each day, but she had no other way to bring relief from the numbness that plagued her. And it mattered not that the wine increased rather than diminished it.

  “My lady,” Anne, her lady’s maid, said as she entered the room, “I must speak with you.”

  Eleanor took another sip of her wine and placed the glass on a table before turning to smile at the woman who had also become a close friend and confidante. The woman always wore a bright smile, and with her raven black hair and brown eyes, she was strikingly beautiful. However, it was the bond of friendship that had formed between the two that brought Eleanor comfort when she sought it. An ear to hear and shoulder on which to cry.

  “What is it?”

  Anne worried her bottom lip. “I’m worried about you.”

  Eleanor clenched her jaw. Confidante Anne might be, but she had no right to overstep her bounds. “I do not need your worry,” Eleanor said curtly. “You may leave now.” She picked up and drained the glass of wine before grabbing the opened bottle and pouring a new glass.

  “You’re my employer,” Anne said, “but you’re also my friend, and I’m worried. You spend your days drinking away your hurt, and I can’t stand by and see you suffer anymore.”

  Eleanor turned. “Do you believe I will not send you away?” she demanded, although it hurt her to speak to the only person who would listen to her woes. “I do not wish to listen to you explain to me how I am feeling, for no one knows the pain I endure…” She wiped away the traitorous tears that escaped her eyes and belied her words.

  Anne took the glass from her, set it on the table and took Eleanor’s hands in hers. “When Lord Lambert returns, what will you do? The padding under your dress might fool the servants, but it won’t fool him.”

  “Do you not think I know this?” Eleanor said in a sharp whisper. “My husband has left me with child, and now that I have lost it…” She shook her head. “It is as though a piece of me was lost, as well. It killed me inside, and no one knows my pain!” No matter what she did, the pain did not subside, and she wanted nothing more than the numbness to return.

  “I may not know your pain” Anne whispered, “but I have my own painful news to share.”

  Eleanor wiped at her eyes. She was being selfish; Anne had always been there for her whenever she needed her. “What is it?”

  Anne took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach. “I am with child.”

  With wide eyes, Eleanor studied the lady’s maid. She was thicker around her middle! She had been so caught up in her loss that she never took notice that the woman who was typically as thin as a stick had grown at least an entire d
ress size.

  “How long?”

  “Maybe a week or so longer than you, my lady.” She turned a deep crimson and looked down at the floor.

  “And the father?”

  Anne looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “Robert, the gardener.” The tears she had been holding back dripped down her face. “He wooed me with promises of marriage, and I believed him. Then he convinced me that I should give him my savings so we could buy a home together. However, when I told him I was with child…he left.”

  Eleanor pulled the woman into her arms and held her tight. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “So, that is why he left?”

  Anne nodded, and Eleanor recalled the man giving his notice, but until now she did not know why.

  “He told Lord Lambert that his mother was ill, and he told me not to tell anyone, not even you, but that was over a month ago.” She shook her head, her face filled with despondency. “Now I’m without money and burdened with a child I cannot look after.”

  Eleanor understood the maid’s concern. When Charles learned that she was carrying a child, he would throw her out immediately, spouting concerns for being burdened with the results of a woman with loose morals.

  The truth was the woman would never survive in the world with a bastard child. She would gain no employment in such a condition, and with no money, she would have no means on which to live.

  “But you can.”

  Eleanor stared at the woman. “What do you mean?”

  “I cannot provide for this child,” Anne said, looking down at her stomach. “But you need a child to make your husband happy and to heal the hole in your heart with the loss of your own.”

  Eleanor closed her eyes. The pain of losing her child had led to many sleepless nights and to her drinking as heavily as a village drunk. “Charles would never allow it,” she said finally. “Society would…”

  “Never know. You can keep up your ruse, and I will leave today to somewhere safe. When the time grows near, make an excuse to leave.”