“How’s is he?” She had to know. That little boy, though not from her own body, had meant the world to her. It had been his life that had broken the lid she’d kept sealed on her own opinions and once lifted, had opened her up to the life she now led. “Is he well?”
Newton’s expression went blank. “He’s gone.”
“What?” Florence swayed, but a hand and strong back kept her upright. She thought it was Mr. Howe and was ready to pull away, but something about the muscle told her the man was someone else, someone much more familiar to her. She turned and stared into Rollo’s stony eyes and gasped.
He was still holding her, but once she got her feet underneath her, he set her up and backed away. “Is it true?” He narrowed his eyes. “You gave your baby away?”
And in that second, Florence saw her world come to an end.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
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“Don’t blame my sister as though you had no part in this,” Newton cut in. “You abandoned her. You’ve no right to go near her again. She will wed Mr. Howe, restore her name, and you will be a thing of her past.”
Florence was sure Newton thought he was making the situation better but doubted he did. She wanted to laugh at how he’d come to her defense but only to give her to Mr. Howe. Her gaze remained on Rollo through it all. “It’s not what you think.” Then she looked at her brother. “It’s not what you think at all.”
Rollo said, “You told me you’d never abandon a child.”
Florence looked at him. “And I was telling the truth when I said it. I wouldn’t.” She took his hand. “You know me, Rollo. You know me better than anyone.” Her eyes pleaded. “Don’t doubt me.”
She truly had been virgin, but the without evidence, he had only her word to go on.
Rollo searched her eyes.
“Then whose baby was it?” Newton asked.
Florence looked at him. “I don’t know, but your man was wrong. The baby wasn’t mine.”
“But there was a baby?” Newton rubbed his chin. “You asked how the boy was. To whom did the child belong?”
Florence froze and tried to think of a way around the situation. She could never betray Elipha’s trust. She turned to look at Rollo to find him still watching her with confusion. Not even to him could she tell him the truth and if it cost her his love, then she knew he’d never loved her at all. “I will not speak of it.” She stared into Rollo’s eyes and calmed her expression though her body still shook. “I will not speak of it. But it is not what it seems and if you know me, you know I speak the truth.”
Rollo frowned. “How can I believe you if you won’t tell me everything?”
She smiled weakly and shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s not for me to decide.” She took a deep breath, pushing back her tears before looking around the room. When she saw a tearful Lorena, she wished to weep. There was no hate in Lorena’s eyes. Only sadness as she looked from her to Rollo. Rollo must have told her and Emmett the truth and now Lorena was witnessing the end of them.
Emmett had a hand around his wife’s shoulders, keeping her up. “I’d not expected all of this at a dinner party. Had I known, I would have declined, Mr. Crew.”
Newton bowed to Emmett. “Lord Ashwick, my apologies. I had hoped this matter would be finished before you arrived. I didn’t know you’d come so early.”
“I rushed us here,” Rollo said from behind Florence. “After hearing that Mr. Howe would be attending, I thought you had something planned, but never had I suspected this.”
“And what did you plan to do about it?” Newton asked him.
Florence closed her eyes. Rollo placed a hand on her waist and squeezed her possessively.
“Florence and I are getting married.”
She heard more than one gasp and a clearing of a throat before she opened her eyes and focused on Rollo.
* * *
Rollo stared down at Florence’s shocked expression. To make his message clear, he leaned over and kissed her gently before pulling away. Then he spoke just above a whisper so only her ears could ear. “If you say I am to believe you then I will. I’ve already doubted you once. I won’t make that mistake again.”
And he didn’t care what she’d done a year ago, or even two months ago. What mattered to him was the present and all he had to do was look into Florence’s eyes to see she was full of goodness. Her actions spoke louder than her accusers. In his eyes, she was innocent. Her only stain was loving a man like him. He didn’t deserve her. He would never be good enough for her, but he could try.
She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “You make me a very forward woman, Mr. Kerry,” right before she kissed him with enough passion to inflame his pulse. When they finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavy. Mr. Howe was gone, as was Newton, but when Hermione showed them to dinner, Newton returned with a partially sullen expression… which quickly melted under the happy conversation around him.
It took an hour for Rollo to realize that perhaps Newton Crew did care for his sister and had thought he was doing what was best for her. He eventually calmed when Rollo reassured him that it would take death to pry him from Florence’s side.
When the meal was over, the men went into the parlor and a footman brought in the trunk that Rollo had brought with him. It was his father’s trunk and besides Rollo’s lucky coin and the ring, everything in it was just as it had been the day he received it years ago.
Newton looked the trunk over for a few minutes, telling Rollo and Emmett about its English design before opening the trunk itself.
Rollo moved over and touched the black seam of the trunk. A small opening was on the side. “This was where the ring fell out.”
Newton made a considering sound and touched the lining. His eyes widened, and he said, “Feel this.”
Rollo felt against the black lining, but couldn’t feel anything underneath. “I don’t feel anything.”
Emmett did the same and shrugged. “There seems to be nothing but wood underneath.”
Newton smiled at the men.
Rollo said, “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Newton shrugged. “I simply find it funny that neither of you did as I instructed. Mr. Kerry, if you would allow it, I’d like to use your story and this trunk for one of my lessons soon.”
Rollo glared. “You help me find my parents, and I’ll let you have the trunk.”
Newton’s eyes widened but then he shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Its only value is in the story itself. Like you and Lord Ashwick demonstrated, it’s nothing but fur and wood.”
“Fur?” Emmett asked.
Newton smiled again. “Yes. I asked you men to feel the lining. It’s made of camel hair, which this English maker of trunk doesn’t use. The camel hair must have been placed there while Mr. Kerry was in the Middle East.”
Rollo stared at him. “So, my father was in the Middle East.” He felt the lining again. “It’s black.”
“Some camels are black. Camel hair has been used in that region for years all the way back to the time of Christ, even being mentioned in the Holy Book.”
Florence had been right. Newton did seem to know everything.
“What now?” Rollo asked.
Newton turned back to the lining and started to remove it. Rollo thought to stop him but simply stepped back as Newton went to work, his movements slow and steady.
The door opened, and the women came in.
“I knew something was going on,” Lorena said, going over to Emmett, never bothering to recognize how improper she was being by coming to the parlor. And Emmett did nothing to correct her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and told her everything that had happened thus far.
Rollo reaching out for Florence’s hand, and she quickly made her way over to him,
their fingers lacing together.
“Help me, Hermione,” Newton said.
Hermione went over to her husband and began to pass him tools from a small pack on the table, moving with the same deftness that her husband possessed as she started to undo the lining from the other side.
Rollo said, “Do you think something is under it? I’ve tried feeling around before and never felt anything.”
“We shall see,” Newton said.
It took a while longer than Rollo wished. Newton wished to keep the lining intact and probably wanted Rollo to suffer a little as well, but eventually the lining came off and on its other side lay a single sheet of paper.
He’d never have been able to feel it and never would have found it had it not been for Newton.
Newton handed him the sheet without reading it and hurried everyone out the door. “Let us give him some privacy.”
Florence touched his arm. “I’ll be right outside the door.”
He mindlessly nodded and heard the door click before he read past the first line. The paper shook between his trembling fingers.
Son,
How’s the estate? Your mother thought I should ask, though I know everything is as I left it. I never worry about things that prove to take care of themselves.
I’m writing to inform you that your mother and I have decided to stay for another month and didn’t wish you to worry when we didn’t return. We met a man named Amed the other night who claimed he was a grave robber and swore to me that the coin I managed to win off him was once owned by a king. I’m more inclined to believe it belonged to a servant, but its obvious aging means it has value to someone
The reason your mother and I have decided to extend our trip is that Amed has promised to take us to the tomb of this king and she and I are anxious to see it. Don’t worry, she’s made me swear that we would return before your birthday. I’ll be sure to bring you back something good.
I’m hiding this letter in case Amed tries to take it or we don’t return to the camp, since Amed says the grave digging is dangerous work if one doesn’t know what he is doing.
But as always, we Kerrys have luck on our side, otherwise how would I ever have convinced your mother to love me?
Your mother and I love you as well. Again, your mother thought I should say so since we’re leaving the safety of the group. And since I’m to act as though this letter is the last of me, which I assure you it is not, then I must also advise you to watch Matthew Caney. He’s been stealing from me for years, but never much, just enough to pay off debts. Our friendship wouldn’t allow him to take everything, but he’s always trying to prove himself better than me. (That will never happen.)
Do well in school or I’ll keep whatever I come back with.
Your Father,
King Kerry
Rollo smiled at the letter as tears rolled down his eyes. His parents had planned to come back for this birthday, but since they had not, he could only surmise that they were gone. His father had left his love in the letter. Rollo had heard the man say it to him plenty, but Giles Kerry’s actions had always said otherwise.
Still, it was a fine letter, setting a decade of emotions at rest.
His parents were gone, but for the first time, he did not feel alone. He had his brothers. He had Lorena and her scandalous friends. He had Florence and with a single smile, she lit up his entire world.
He stood and went to the door. Florence stood there with a worried expression.
“Are you all right?” she asked quickly.
He smiled and kissed her. “Yes, I’m all right.” He handed her the letter then moved to speak with Lorena and Emmett, telling them what he’d discovered before turning to find Florence staring at him, holding back a dam of tears.
He crossed to her and she wrapped her arms around him and took a deep breath, being strong for him. He took her offered strength but with his emotions high, they all decided to end the evening. With Newton’s permission, Rollo saw Florence back to Lord Nolwell’s house and saw her safely inside.
She looked every bit of a distinguished woman that she was as she stood at the in the foyer. He was loath to leave her, but knew it was the right thing.
“I can come with you if you want,” she offered.
He smiled. “I promised your brother I’d return you to Elipha’s keeping.”
She moved closer and said, “Yes, but we never said when.”
He touched her nose. “Bold woman.” His bold woman.
A cry from a room in the distance had then both look that way before Rollo found himself chasing after Florence as she rushed into a sitting room. And there on the couch sat Elipha with a baby in her arms and a grief-stricken Lord Rakefield at her side.
Elipha clung to the child and wept, which caused the baby to cry as well.
Lord Nolwell, who looked stern and angry, stood in the corner.
“I’m so sorry, Elipha,” Rakefield said, his hand on her knee as he remained on the floor. “I love you but discovered that I should prove it before returning to you. I should never have left you… and our son. I’ll find work. I don’t care what your father says. I love you. Will you marry me, my love?”
Elipha was sobbing over the child, but she nodded her head repeatedly and threw her free hand around Rakefield’s neck. The family sat holding each other, the baby still crying.
Lord Nolwell said nothing as he strolled from the room in fury.
Florence gripped Rollo’s hand and pulled him away from the room before closing the door behind them and sending the other servants away.
Rollo spoke when they were alone. “The baby was Elipha’s.”
“Yes.” Florence was crying now. “When my brother said the boy was gone, I thought...”
He pulled her into his arms and thought about the events of the night and the day before. Then he thought of the moment he’d flipped the coin in Scotland, all the while predicting his own fate, and like his father, falling in love with a wonderful woman. But he would not be as reckless as his father with his gift. He would protect her. “You’re a spectacular woman, Florence.”
She looked up and smiled. “You make me feel that way.”
And he always would.
* * *
THANK YOU
for reading my book and
i hope you have enjoyed the story.
The next book targeted release date will be 30th Jan 2018.
In the meantime . . .
If you have enjoyed reading Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society, I believe you will be interested in the previous book.
I have enclosed a sneak preview of the previous book.
Check it out below . . .
It is currently priced at $0.99 (around 230 pages)
PROLOGUE
Miss Sophia Taylor blamed Lady Lorena Cullip for all the new emotions that had been awakened in her over the last year, for there was something about the woman that had forced down Sophia’s guard and taught her to open her heart. She’d not had very many female friends growing up. Her life had been different from anyone else’s she knew. As the daughter of a second son of a viscount, she’d not truly engaged in the life of the ton, never quite fitting in until Lorena and her Spinsters’ Society found her.
Sophia’s mother had died when she was a child, and it wasn’t long after that her father had come to retrieve her. She’d been so young that she hardly remembered those years, though she recalled the sadness in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Everyone said they looked alike, since they shared the same coloring—vivid green eyes and hair as black as the wings of a raven—but Mr. Taylor had told his daughter that she looked very much like her mother. His words, combined with his sadness, always made Sophia believe that he’d loved her mother, a woman who’d run off to do whatever it was that made her happy—a calling that she hadn’t been able to deny.
Over the years, that belief had been further proven with her father’s need to always have women about. She’d learned early on wha
t happened between a man and a woman. Nothing was forbidden her. Her father didn’t send her off to school. Instead, he’d hired tutors and kept her home.
They were close and, through it all, Sophia counted her father as her best friend, something Society thought unnatural and unhealthy, which was yet another reason she’d never belonged in the beau monde.
Until she found her place with the Spinsters.
Under Lorena’s giving heart and surrounded by the warmth of the other women, Sophia found a place that felt like home and her new friends adored her father… though he flirted shamelessly with them. Still, the things that made her feel odd somehow made her feel appreciated amongst her sisterhood.
So, she’d let down her guards and opened her heart to new possibilities.
And then he came, invading her soul with a single look, branding her his for all time. If she’d not had her guards down, it would have never happened, yet it was far too late to go back.
She was his, and she could never have him. She wasn’t entirely sure that any woman could, yet while she owned her soul, she fought to keep her heart and would die before she allowed him to break it.
Or rather break it again
Since the truth was that he’d broken her heart at their very first meeting.
* * *
CHAPTER ONE
May 1813
London, England
Five Months Earlier
Sophia walked into her bedchamber and couldn’t pull her eyes from Lorena. The other women who’d come with her paused as well to take their friend in. It was the first time Sophia had seen Lorena out of her mourning attire and though the color was still dark, the style did not make one think of mourning. Sophia thought no man would stand a chance at refusing Lorena anything she wished for. Sophia’s father, Mr. Taylor, who was London’s best tailor, had ensured the midnight-blue dress dipped dangerously low in the front.
Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society Page 21
