Rose wondered if she truly was a grieving widow any longer, the memory of the duke’s kiss oft dancing on the fringes of her mind throughout the day.
It had been weeks since it had happened and while they continued to smile at one another when they passed in the halls, she had not seen him alone again, despite his desire to be home with more frequency.
Sometimes, she wondered if she had imagined the encounter but there was no denying the look of desire in Nicholas’ eyes whenever their gazes met.
You cannot think about romance with the duke, she chided herself. Something terrible is occurring inside the walls of Rosecliff and you must learn what you can before all goes agog.
Yet the kiss defied all logic and she oft thought of it when her nights remained restless and she could think no more of the bleakness which haunted the halls of Rosecliff.
She had begun an investigation of her own, reaching out to the Boyles for help. She penned letters to the elderly couple, asking them for any information pertaining to Philip’s death but their answers had not been helpful.
Our Dearest Rose,
As we have already told you, we only know what Lieutenant Joel Walters has told us. Philip was killed under unusual circumstances but we know nothing more. May we suggest you write him for more information?
We have enclosed the post he has left, lest Captain Balfour does not wish you to know it. John and I miss you terribly and we hope to see you again soon. I suspect that Dora longs for you too. Perhaps you will come back to Dartford, if only for a visit.
God’s Blessings,
Bridget and John
The letter spoke volumes to Rose who could read the concern her friends had for her.
They wish for me to return to Dartford, to leave this place. They must have sensed the darkness here or perhaps they already knew about Balfour. I should heed their subtle warning and return to the only home I have ever known.
Yet Rose was not the same woman she had been when she had arrived at the sprawling estate in November. The desolate innocence had given way to that of wariness and caution. No longer could she entertain the notion of leaving Rosecliff, not when she had learned to care for the residents so well. She was no longer a green girl and even a short visit to Dartford was beyond the realm of possibilities, not when so much was at stake.
The man she was certain was responsible for her husband’s death not only resided in the same walls but may also have been party to another tragedy.
He has come here because of me but has stayed because he saw an opportunity to seduce the mourning duchess. He is despicable and he must be stopped.
However, there was another thought creeping into Rose’s mind, one she wished she could silence and ignore. Was the duchess also responsible for her late husband’s death? It seemed inconceivable that she could move on so quickly following the duke’s untimely demise and yet…
“Miss Rose, you are not paying me any mind!”
Harry’s voice brought her back to the schoolroom.
“Forgive me, Harry,” she sighed. “What is it?”
“Will the duchess marry Captain Balfour?”
“Goodness no!” Rose replied with more force than she intended. “Whatever gives you the idea that Her Grace would act so inappropriately? Her husband has only been gone five months!”
“And yet she carouses with the captain as if they are newly in love,” Harry bit back bitterly. The governess was mildly surprised by his observation. While it was true that the duchess and captain were not secretive about their romance, Rose could not imagine why Harry would recognize the signs of their apparent love for one another.
Betsey has likely schooled him in such mature matters. I should have a word with her about what she says to Harry. He is much too fragile for more darkness.
Rose admitted that the boy had a point, but she would not encourage his thoughts, not when he already had so much on his young mind.
“You must not worry about Her Grace,” Rose told him softly. “She is a strong, wise woman who will not tangle with such a man.”
“Miss Rose, she already is!” Harry exploded, his blue eyes flashing with anger as if he was not being heard. “We cannot permit this to happen!”
“Mind your tone!” Rose snapped but she immediately regretting yelling at the child. He was merely reacting to the unbearable stress he was experiencing.
After all, Harry had been threatened by the captain. He was not to be faulted for being quite on edge. Rose quickly changed her own tone and offered the young lord a solution.
“Harry, you must allow me to tell His Grace what you know about the captain. He will tell the duchess and the captain will be sent away from Rosecliff. Is that not what you want?”
“No one will believe anything I have to say,” Harry replied bitterly, turning his head to look out the dusty windows of the attic. “I am but a bantling to everyone.”
“You are not merely a bantling,” Rose assured him, wishing away the forlorn look in his face. She tried to recall the last time she had seen Harry smile genuinely and she could not.
“I believe you, Harry,” she reminded him. “I will tell Duke Buford what you have told me, but I will not say it came from you. He will investigate the charges personally. He has much better resources than either of us.”
Harry scoffed lightly and turned to eye her through his peripheral vision.
“He will not believe you,” the boy said, matter-of-factly. “You have no credibility.”
Rose’s mouth parted at the snide comment.
“Lord Arlington, I realize that you are upset,” Rose told him tersely. “But you may not speak to me in such a fashion. Apologize at once.”
Harry turned his face twisted into an expression she could not read but he shook his head.
“Miss Rose, I am not being crass. I am stating facts. Captain Balfour has told all who will listen that you are not of sound mind, that you suffer from melancholy due to the death of your husband.”
Rose could hardly believe what she was hearing but she had no reason to disbelieve what the boy was telling her. He liked his governess and had no reason to say such a thing.
“To whom has he said this?” she whispered, her heart thudding in her chest. “When did you hear him speak these awful words?”
“As I said, Miss Rose, to anyone who will listen. I have personally overheard him speaking of you to the duchess. I believe he is looking to have you replaced.”
“Replaced?” she gasped. “No!”
It had never occurred to her that Balfour was looking to have her removed from Rosecliff but as she thought about it, she could not imagine why he would keep her in his line of sight. She was a constant reminder of his wrongdoings.
I will never allow it! Nicholas will never allow it!
“Nicholas will never permit it,” Harry told her with confidence as if he had been reading her thoughts. Rose wished she shared the boy’s assuredness. Granted, the duke seemed to be less enthusiastic about having the captain act as advisor but the man still traveled frequently with the duke.
Still, she could not deny that given Balfour’s new position, courting the duchess, it would be easy for him to send her back to Dartford without much fuss. Nicholas must not have allowed for any action to be taken.
Nicholas will not succumb to whatever treachery Balfour has planned. Nicholas is wiser and stronger than that bamboozler. We will discover what he is doing and put an end to it at once.
The thought gave her little relief as she replayed the past weeks in her mind.
Is this why I have not been alone with Nicholas again? Has he bought into Balfour’s assessment of my sanity?
She could not bring herself to accept that Nicholas could think so poorly of her but nothing was as it seemed in Rosecliff.
“I upset you,” Harry said, his face filled with worry. “Forgive me.”
“No,” she replied quickly, forcing a smile. “You could never upset me, Harry. Come, we have studied enough
for the day. Let us go for a walk along the shore, shall we?”
His eyes brightened and he nodded eagerly.
“Shall I call on Betsey?”
“Yes, please.”
The young lord scampered out of the schoolroom, leaving Rose to gather her composure.
Balfour is going too far, attacking my character, she thought grimly but she felt strangely helpless, despite her anger. What could she do but sit by and watch the events unfold?
Rose stood from her stool and ventured off after Harry.
“Miss Rose?”
She spun at the sound of her name and Theodore shuffled toward her, a letter in his hand.
“Yes, Theodore?”
“This came for you with the post.”
A gnarled hand reached forward to deposit the paper in her hand.
“Thank you, Theodore.”
She glanced at the unfamiliar handwriting, her brow furrowing but before she could open it, Duchess Buford appeared in the hall.
“Miss Rose, may I have a word?”
Rose’s heart skipped and she tucked the letter into the sash of her lace dress, nodding politely.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
The duchess waved for the governess to follow her into the upstairs tearoom and Rose grew dizzy with anticipation.
Will she send me away today before Nicholas returns from the towns? I can hardly refuse if she does.
Duchess Buford closed the double doors and looked at Rose.
“How are you faring, my dear?” she asked.
“Well, Your Grace. Very well. I have not felt better in a long while!” Rose prattled, hoping her response reflected truth. Surely if Balfour was telling the servants she was mad, the words had likely met the duchess’ ears also.
Duchess Buford smiled thinly, eyeing her with too much scrutiny for Rose’s liking.
“How are Harry’s lessons?”
“He is doing much better, Your Grace. I feel that he is overcoming the loss of the late duke as well as can be expected. He and Lady Arlington await me presently. We are going to the bluffs, near the shoreline. It is their favorite place.”
“Indeed, it is,” she agreed, a pensive smile on her face. The duchess cocked her head back and peered at Rose for a silent moment.
Will that dissuade her from terminating my employment? Knowing that the children depend upon me?
A flash of relief crossed over her face and she nodded, gliding across the floor toward the tea table.
“I shall not keep you,” she assured Rose. “I merely wished to speak with you in the absence of the menfolk.”
“Is something amiss, Your Grace?”
“On the contrary,” Duchess Buford replied. “I am planning a gala.”
Rose blinked, thinking she had heard incorrectly.
“A gala, Your Grace?”
“Indeed. There has been a dark cloud hovering above Rosecliff since my husband died and it is time to clear the air. Tis springtime, after all, a season for rebirth and happiness.”
Rose instantly thought about where she had been a year earlier, also anticipating the fresh start which the spring brought with it.
I was expecting Philip to return home and instead I got word of death.
“You disagree?” the duchess asked, her voice growing icy as she noticed the expression of pain on Rose’s face.
“Oh no, Your Grace! I agree! Tis a wonderful idea. How may I help?”
She smiled, seemingly happy that Rose was in agreement.
“It is Nicholas’ birthday,” Duchess Buford explained. “He will be thirty and one. I would like to surprise him as he has worked so hard these past months.”
“Oh!”
Rose had not realized it was the duke’s birthday and she felt a smidgen of guilt.
I must make him a wonderful present. I do hope I will have the time.
“You must not tell him. In fact, I would prefer to keep it a secret from the children also. Lord knows that they cannot keep their mouths closed,” the duchess explained. Rose pursed her lips together to keep from grimacing. It seemed to her that Harry was the best at keeping confidences but she did not offer her opinion.
“Indeed,” she murmured. “Consider the secret vaulted, Your Grace.”
The duchess smiled, apparently pleased and rose quickly.
“It will be in a fortnight,” she explained. “Of course, I will provide more details as they come available.”
“Do let me know how I can assist, Your Grace.”
“Your position is to keep the children unaware.”
The duchess opened the door to the tearoom but not before stopping to cast Rose one last look.
“You are certain all is well, Miss Rose? You are not in need of rest?”
The governess felt her spine straighten in defiance, knowing that the question was regarding Rose’s mind state.
“I assure you, Your Grace, I would inform you at once if I was in need of anything whatsoever. You and the duke make it quite easy to be honest with your lack of judgement.”
A half-smile formed on the duchess’ face but she did not respond as if she was weighing the meaning behind Rose’s words.
“I should attend to the children,” Rose offered, hurrying toward the door.
“Yes,” the duchess replied and Rose could feel her eyes follow her through the corridor until she was out of sight.
When she was certain she was no longer in the duchess’ view, Rose fell against the wall, exhaling in respite.
Perhaps a party is not such a terrible distraction, she thought, wiping her palms nervously against the skirts of her pink and white gown. Her sweating hands passed over the letter in her tie and Rose pulled it out.
She had forgotten about it but seeing it again caused her pulse to quicken. There was only one person she could imagine it to be and when she tore open the casing, her suspicions were confirmed.
Dear Mrs. Parsons,
I would like to thank you for your letter dated March 21st. I confess, I was startled to receive it but given our last encounter, I am quite happy that you are doing well in Buford.
I understand your need to find answers in regard to Philip’s death and while I can provide you with very few conclusions, I will tell you what I know for certain.
On the evening of November 1st, we were in port for the night. Several of us had left the ship for shore but Captain Balfour and your husband, Lieutenant Philip Parsons remained on deck. What transpired thereafter, according to Captain Balfour, was a matter of speculation. He claims he was not present but a mast struck your husband in the skull and he was instantly killed.
I understand this is difficult for you to read and I offer you my sincerest condolences losing your husband in such a freakish accident but know my thoughts and prayers remain with you.
I do hope this permits you some closure during this difficult time.
God Bless,
Lieutenant Joel Walters, Royal Navy
The letter fluttered from Rose’s trembling hands to the floor and she stared dully at the wall before her.
Philip was killed by a blow to the head, she thought, her breaths uneven. Just as the duke was found. Both in the company of Captain Daniel Balfour.
If she had not been certain before, the letter from Lieutenant Walters had confirmed it; Captain Balfour was a killer.
A killer who has his sights on Duchess Buford and Nicholas.
Chapter 30
Upon returning from the towns, Nicholas found himself exhausted.
“Your Grace, supper is served,” Theodore announced but the duke could barely raise his head in acknowledgement.
“I will not be joining the family for supper,” he said, regret filling his tone. “Please submit my apologies to my mother.”
He wanted to add his cousins’ names and Rose but speaking was becoming a chore.
“Are you well, Your Grace?”
Nicholas waved his hand and stumbled toward the staircase.
I
will be well after I sleep, he told himself. Then I shall spend some much-needed time with Rose and the children.
The fatigue had set in midway home from Sommersail and it had taken everything in Nicholas’ power to stay awake.
“Your Grace, you seem peaked,” Peter commented from his place inside the coach. “Perhaps you should rest.”
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