Rose smiled, pleased at the opportunity before her. “Of course. You will not be gone long. Go on. See what your new horse is like.” When Holden mounted the animal, she did not miss the wide grin he wore as he trotted away.
“He has admirable negotiation skills,” Lord Drake said as he accepted a clean cloth from a stable hand. “Although he smiles all too much for a man who pretends he is disinterested in the item of purchase.”
Rose smiled and looked about them. “Do you have family, my lord?” she asked, attempting to sound as if she was merely asking to pass the time.
“Yes,” Lord Drake said. “I have a daughter a few years younger than you.”
“She must feel honored that her father cares for her,” she said, fighting down the sense of irritation that rose within her. “That he has not run as a coward but instead remains to raise his child as a father should.”
Lord Drake stopped and narrowed his eyes her. “What is it you are trying to say, Miss Skylark?” he asked.
How she had made it this far without reaching out and striking the man, she did not know. Perhaps it had been his amiable demeanor or his ready smile, but no longer could she hold back her anger.
“My mother is Lady Rachel Prescott,” she said. “I am certain you know her. She was forced to leave Rumsbury in shame because you refused to do your duty and marry her when she learned she was with child.”
What she had expected was retaliation, shouting, ire, but instead, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
“Do not deny your actions,” she said, tears threatening to spill over her lashes. How her heart ached for what this man had done to her mother!
“I cannot,” he said finally. “What you say is true. Was it your mother who told you what happened?”
“No. I found out through other means.”
Lord Drake sighed heavily. “Come, let us walk,” he said. “I believe Mr. Bradshaw will be gone for a while.” He offered an arm, and, with reluctance, she placed her hand upon it. “When I met your mother, I was a different man. I had little wisdom and made poor choices. When I learned she was with child, I admit that I panicked and refused to marry her.”
“She was left to live with that shame,” Rose snapped. “Not you.”
“You are right in what you say,” he said as he brought them to a stop beside a low gate behind the stables. “Rachel left carrying a child of whose life I wanted no part.” He shook his head. “It was not until perhaps four years later that I went to London in search of her. Although it was a long time in passing, I wanted to take responsibility for our child and to offer her marriage, if she would accept it.”
Rose turned and gaped at him. “You had a change of heart?”
“Indeed. Let us just say that my view on life had changed much in that time, and the guilt I carried for what I had done weighed heavy on me. Of course, I learned she had lost the child and therefore refused my offer of marriage.”
A tear rolled down Rose’s cheek. “Although you offered her marriage, as late as it was, it does not excuse what you did. Nothing can.”
Lord Drake sighed. “Perhaps not, but I had to try. Your mother forgave me, you know. I cherish that fact to this day, for it brought me peace I did not deserve. You have every right to be angry with me. I imagine that is the reason you came here today, to give me a piece of your mind?”
“I will not lie; that was my intention.”
“If I may offer a bit of advice,” he said, his voice kind. “Let go of your anger, for I spent many years cultivating mine, and it not only harms the person carrying it, but also those around them.”
Somehow, Rose could not hold her anger with this man. If her mother had forgiven him, then who was she to not? “Perhaps you are right,” she said. Then a new thought came to her. “Did you meet my father while you were in London?”
“No. I did not have the fortune of meeting the man.”
They fell quiet for a moment, and another thought occurred to her. “What reason did my mother give for refusing your offer of marriage?”
Lord Drake shrugged. “Since the child was lost, there was no reason for us to marry. Your mother and I had a…simple relationship, but we never truly cared for one another in the same way I can see you and Bradshaw do.
Rose smiled, but something nagged at the back of her mind. Then it hit her. She was born the year after Lord Drake had gone to see her mother, and her mother made no mention of her father to Lord Drake. Was it possible that her father met her mother soon after?
“What is it?” Lord Drake asked.
“Do you happen to remember what month you spoke to my mother?”
He rubbed his chin for a moment. “I suppose it was late autumn, but I do not remember the exact month. Why?”
“It is nothing,” Rose replied. “But I want you to know that I harbor no ill will toward you.”
The man smiled, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. “I appreciate you saying so. I will sleep better knowing that.”
They turned as Holden approached and dismounted. “Concerning the price,” he said breathlessly, “I am ready to make a final offer.”
“There is no need,” Lord Drake replied. “I will accept your first offer.” He then winked at Rose.
Later, as she and Holden left the Drake estate, Rose’s stomach ached from worry. Why was there so much mystery concerning her father? And was his name truly Michael Skylark? Or could he be a different man altogether?
***
Although Rose made every attempt to keep her focus on Holden as he spoke, she found her mind returning to Lord Drake and what he had told her. Her mother had said that she had been married two years before Rose was born but never mentioned that Lord Drake had proposed to her.
Then there was the mystery that surrounded her father. It seemed no story she heard made sense. Was Lord Drake lying or had he simply been misinformed? Had her mother kept secret from him that she was already married, not wishing to hurt him despite the fact he had hurt her so many years before?
The stories her mother and Aunt Eleanor told also conflicted. And there was the letter from her mother to Charles requesting he never come near her again.
She blinked back the tears, but one escaped.
“I bought her to breed with one of my stallions,” Holden was saying, “but when she is delivered next week, you may ride her if you wish.” When he turned toward her, he stopped. “Rose? Have I upset you? If so, I am sorry. Or did Lord Drake say something to you while I was gone?” He shook his head angrily. “I should have waited to ride the horse!”
“No, it has nothing to do with any of that,” she said as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I am just overwhelmed at the moment.”
Holden nodded. “I understand. I feel as if I am under a great deal of pressure, as well.”
“I assume you speak of your father,” she said, glad he did not interrogate her further.
“No,” Holden said. “I speak of you. Not that you are doing anything to cause me concern. It is just that now I must prove myself worthy to you, and I am afraid I will fail.”
Rose smiled. “You are not failing,” she said. “My thoughts were on my father, not on you or our possible marriage. I wish to explain but…”
He raised a hand and she fell silent. “There is no need to explain,” he said with a smile that melted her heart. “May I offer a bit of comfort?”
Rose nodded, although she did not know what he meant until he moved to sit beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without thought, she placed her head on his chest.
“I am afraid I am no poet, so I am not good with my words. This is the best I can do.”
“It is plenty,” she said, feeling comforted in his hold. “Thank you.”
They rode along in silence for some time until he said, “I think you would have liked my mother, and she would have liked you, too.” He sighed. “I understand your pain concerning your father. Well, perhaps not all of your pain, for at least
I knew my mother. Regardless, if it helps any, I am sure he would be very proud of the lady you are today.”
“Do you believe so?” Rose asked as she looked up at him.
“Indeed. You are a strong woman. If you can make a fool like me see the error of his ways, you must be strong.”
Rose sat up and turned toward him. “Your words have helped me more than you can ever know,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I do want to make you happy,” he said. “If you ever need anything from me, will you tell me?”
Rose nodded. “I will.”
The carriage came to a stop in front of Scarlett Hall, and a footman opened the door. Rose turned to Holden once more. “The day after tomorrow would be a nice day to go for a carriage ride,” she said. “That is, if you would like to. And if the weather holds.”
Holden grinned. “I would enjoy that very much.”
For a moment, the sun highlighted his face and his eyes glinted with kindness. The oddest of feelings came over Rose. It was as if all the worries of the world disappeared as long as he was beside her. Would life not be wonderful if every day left her feeling the same?
Chapter Twenty
The week following the purchase of Holden’s horse was much too busy for Rose to worry about her father and who he truly was. As a matter of fact, dwelling on that mystery was futile until her mother’s return, for she would be the one person who could tell her the truth.
What had kept her occupied was Holden. He had called four days that week, and they had spoken in the drawing room, as rain made strolling through the gardens and carriage rides impossible. By the fifth day, the rain had ceased and the sun had warmed the air, so Holden recommended an outing.
Rose had come to the realization that she enjoyed Holden’s company immensely, evident by her laughter as he told her yet another story from his youth.
“It was then that I realized—right there in front of his friends, mind you—that I had donned my slippers rather than my riding boots! Father had never been more embarrassed—or angry—with me.”
Rose’s sides ached from laughter. “I cannot imagine such a thing,” she managed to gasp. “Did you not realize when you donned them that they were not what you needed? I mean, you were going hunting, after all.”
Holden shook his head. “I was so concerned with my appearance that I did not notice.” He gave her a weak smile. “I can see why you concern yourself with structure and rules, otherwise you would have someone like me embarrassing you.”
“You cannot embarrass me,” Rose said with a frown. “In fact, I find your ways appealing.”
“Do you?” he asked in clear astonishment. “How so?”
“When you are not boasting about yourself, your stories are quite entertaining.” She smiled. “I can see when they come from the heart, and therefore, I find myself utterly enthralled with them.”
The carriage slowed as it turned a corner, and Rose grasped the handle beside her to keep herself upright.
“I can easily admit that when you speak of your mother or your life in London I, too, am enthralled.” He tilted his head. “Do you find it odd that I wish to learn everything I can about you?”
The air around her seemed to dissipate and her head felt light. Please do not faint! she told herself. “No, but I like that you do,” she said aloud.
The sound of a woman screaming made them both turn to look out the window as the carriage came to a stop.
“What was that?” Rose asked, her heart in her throat.
“I do not know,” Holden replied. “But I intend to find out.” He opened the door and bounded from the carriage, and as Rose moved to alight, he placed his hands around her waist, lifted her, and placed her on the ground all in one swift movement.
“My son!” a woman shouted, her fists grasping the skirts of her simple burlap dress as tears streamed down her face. “Please, someone, help him!” She pointed toward a nearby tree, where a boy of perhaps five clung to the trunk from a seated position on a high branch. “He’s too scared to climb back down. I told ‘im not to go, but he didn’t listen.” She released her skirts and wrung her hands. “Oh, my lord! Don’ let ‘im fall! I can’t lose me only boy!”
Holden glanced at the woman. “Do not worry. I shall retrieve your son.” Then, to Rose’s surprise, he removed his coat and handed it to her.
“Holden, the child is quite high up in the tree. It will be a dangerous climb.” The thought of him falling gave her the same anguish the mother must have been feeling for her son.
“True,” he said without looking at her, “but it would be far better for me to be injured than to pass by and live with the shame that I did nothing.” He hurried over to the tree and grasped the lowest branch. “Plus, I used to do this as a child, and I was quite good at it.”
The woman turned to Rose. “Your husband’s a very brave man, my lady,” she said as she wiped tears from her eyes.
Rose laughed. “Oh, no, he is not my husband, but he is my fiancé.” A sense of pride filled her upon saying the words, although she had no time to wonder about this great change as she watched in trepidation, for Holden clamored up the tree as if it was a feat he did every day.
Please do not allow him to fall! she prayed, realizing she had nearly echoed the woman’s words.
“That’s it,” she could hear Holden saying in a soothing tone to the boy. “Do not be afraid. Put your arms around my neck. Yes, just like that.”
With the whimpering child clinging to him, Holden began the long descent. Rose held her breath, watching each foot placement, willing each branch to hold and each step to not slip.
Branch by branch, Holden moved closer to the ground, not once missing a step as the branches held their weight. It seemed an eternity by the time they reached the bottom, and the woman rushed to her son to pull him into her arms and smother him with kisses.
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” she said, giving him a quick bob of a curtsy. “Two carriages passed us by. Not one wanted to stop to help, but you did.”
“My apologies for their behavior,” Holden said. “But your son is now safe.” He turned to the boy and lightly ruffled his hair. “And you, young sir, must not climb so high next time. It is not good to give your mother such a fright.”
The boy gave an adamant shake to his head and glanced at the tree with horror. “I won’t, sir. I promise.”
“Now, come, you,” his mother said, taking the boy by the hand. “We’ve chores to complete. Thank you again, my lord.” She gave him another curtsy and led the boy away.
Rose handed the coat back to Holden. “You were quite brave,” she said. “Your kindness today was…”
“A far cry from a month ago?” he asked with a laugh. “I believe I have always wanted to help others, but for whatever reason, I made excuses not to do so.” He shrugged. “I do not know if I am following the ways of old or new, but regardless, it was the right thing to do.”
Rose could not stop the proud smile that crossed her lips. “It was,” she said. “It most certainly was.”
***
Rose giggled as the breeze pulled back a corner of the blanket as Holden attempted to kick it back into place, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth.
He grunted and glanced at her. “Is the wind mussing my hair?” he asked as he brushed back a misfit wave. “Or perhaps you laugh at me because my shirt is wrinkled or my cravat is askew.”
She laughed all the harder because he asked with an earnestness that told her he was not jesting. “No, your hair and clothing are fine,” she said. She reached over and placed the basket on the offending blanket corner. Then she smiled as she reached her hands out to him. “Now come. I wish to discuss something of great importance.”
He eyed her hands for a moment and then took them in his, causing a sense of security to wash over her. She stood, pulling him with her as she did so.
“We have had the most unusual times together,” she said. “You were a brash man who once bo
asted about his handsomeness, just as you commented on my beauty in a very…unconventional manner. Do you remember?”
“I do,” he said, glancing at the ground. “I admit I did not like how I acted toward you.”
“Do you still believe me beautiful?”
Holden looked down at her, his eyes filled with earnestness. “More than ever I know you are the loveliest of ladies,” he whispered. “However, it is much more than the beauty I see, but that which is unseen. You have a loveliness inside your heart that I have come to adore.”
“Once you said I was as rigid as an old woman,” she said. He went to speak, but she squeezed his hands to halt him. “You were right. I have always been concerned with appearances and following every rule I was taught to the smallest detail.”
“That is not always a bad thing,” he said with a smile. “In fact, I have learned that rules do have their place.”
“Oh, I do agree rules are a necessity,” Rose replied. “However, I am finding myself wanting to be daring and wishing to break one. May I?”
Holden nodded, although his features showed his confusion. If her heart was not pounding as it was now, she would have giggled.
“I find you quite handsome,” she said, and was pleased when he gave her that wide grin she had come to admire. “Even before we were locked in the wine cellar, I saw a change in you. The arrogant man I once knew was disappearing and a new man stands before me today. He is a man I admire, for he has changed his ways. However, that is not all.”
“Is it not?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He is the man to whom I find myself engaged. The man who has shown me that it is all right if a rule is not followed to the letter. In fact, one may find it a relief to break them from time to time.”
She drew in a deep breath. Admitting this came with great difficulty, for it went against a lifetime of strict upbringing.
“However,” she continued, “above all things, I have come to realize that you are the man I love, the man I wish to be my husband. I only hope that you can accept me as your wife.”
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