Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6

by Jennifer Monroe

  Not only had he failed in the purpose for this journey, but also in the possibility of befriending the servant girl Amelia Parker. she was a mysterious woman of great beauty who was equally great of mind. The idea that such an acquaintance concerned him was troubling itself, for what man destined to become an earl would care about such a relationship? Yet, there it was.

  Already humiliated by two women before, to be shamed by a mere servant enraged him despite his attraction to the girl. That, in turn, added fuel to his rage, for he found that he could not evict her from his thoughts.

  How could a woman appear so distinct at the onset only to transform into every other woman in the world? Women were masters of playing games, wondrous illusionists, and it did not take long for his patience to wear thin. Yet, in the end, he regretted his behavior, for it sent Amelia running into the night.

  I pray you arrived safely. If she did not, he would carry that burden with him forever.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of Stormridge Manor — a misnomer if there ever was one. The house stood nowhere near a ridge nor was it battered by storms any more than the residences around it, but some former resident had found the name intriguing. Its name mattered little to Christopher at the best of times, but it was especially inconsequential now that the time had come to face his father.

  A burst of cold air assailed him when the door opened, and he stepped down from the carriage into a thin layer of snow. He stared up at the only home he had ever known and sighed. Despite the strong outside appearance with its heavy stone walls covered in trellises filled with bare ivy vines, he knew all too well what resided inside was not nearly as strong.

  His father, the Earl of Chanster, lay on his deathbed. The man was kind and loving, and all he requested before he died was to see his only son married so the title, and the family name, would carry on. The fact he would never meet his grandchildren was likely, but Christopher’s marriage would at least begin that process.

  Having delayed the inevitable for as long as he could, Christopher brushed snow from his coat and walked through the front door. The butler, a man Christopher suspected was not much younger than his father’s sixty years, greeted him and took his coat.

  “The earl is pleased you are returning today,” Reeves said. “He has requested your attendance as soon as you arrived.”

  “Thank you,” Christopher replied. “How has he been?”

  The butler clamped his mouth shut.

  “I am no longer a child,” Christopher said. “You may be truthful with me no matter what my father has instructed.”

  The butler glanced upwards toward the room where Christopher’s father lay. “Very well, my lord. Your father’s health, as well as his mind, fails with each passing breath. He will be leaving us soon, I am afraid.”

  Christopher drew in a deep breath. “Does he still recognize you?”

  “At times, my lord, but at other times he calls me by other names.” A sadness crossed his features. “I am sorry to say that I had to remind him about your mother. He forgot that she left us.”

  Christopher closed his eyes as memories of his mother came to mind. The woman had died seven years earlier, her illness sudden and her death quick. “Thank you,” he said as he opened his eyes. “I will go to him now.”

  When Christopher reached the staircase, he placed a hand on the oak railing and began to climb, each step agonizing as he drew closer to where his father lay. How he wished to tell the man that he had good news for once, but he had none to give. Instead he would be forced to reveal his failure in procuring a bride, or at least a bride-to-be.

  Light streamed through the cracked door that led to his father’s room, and Christopher entered, trepidation filling him.

  His father lay with several pillows beneath his head, the once striking looks thin from age and disease. “My son,” he croaked, “have you returned a married man?”

  Christopher smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you, Father?” He would do whatever he could to delay telling this man the truth.

  “My time draws near,” his father said. “I do not believe I have many days remaining.”

  Christopher nodded. In the past, he would have argued about miracles and the possibility of new cures, but doing so at this point was futile. Nothing would stop whatever ravished the man’s body.

  The old man reached out a hand, and Christopher took it. “Did you find your bride?”

  Christopher could do nothing but nod. How could he disappoint this man who had given him so much in life? Therefore, he lied. “Yes, Father.” Perhaps he would die before he had to show proof.

  Patting Christopher’s hand, the corners of his father’s lips turned up. “That is wonderful. Now my son is married, and I can die in peace knowing he is happy.”

  Guilt filled Christopher as he replied, “Thank you, Father. I am happy.”

  It was quite irksome that he could not even complete the simplest of tasks — marriage. His peers had a multitude of women throwing themselves at their feet, yet he had encountered few. The fault was his own, of course, for he spent most of his time on his work. When he did find a woman, he tried too hard to win her affection. In the end, he had given up on any notion of love and, much to his distaste, had settled for a marriage of convenience. Even that had been a disappointment.

  “You must bring her to me,” his father said. “I wish to meet your bride.” He frowned. “What was her name again?”

  Panic overtook Christopher. This was unexpected! Why had he lied? He had no woman to introduce to his father, and he knew of no one of the peerage who would be willing to play the role. Either she would glare at him with scorn or she would mistake his request as a true proposal of marriage. Neither would do!

  An image of a woman came to mind, a woman who spoke with intelligence and grace but wore burlap dresses.

  “Miss Amelia Parker,” he said. “She is visiting her sister in Rumsbury at the moment.” At least part of that was truth.

  The old man chuckled. “Then you must bring her here.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “You cannot have your wife away for long, and I must meet her before my time comes. Will you do this for me?”

  “Yes, Father,” Christopher said, doing his best to keep reluctance from his tone.

  His father’s breathing became even, and Christopher knew he was asleep. How he loved this man, but his request would not be easy to fulfill.

  Christopher made his way to his father’s study. His first order of business was to arrange a meeting with Lady Lambert, and he hoped she would honor his request.

  Once the letter was finished and sealed, he sat back in the chair. What had he done? He had deceived his father in order to please the man. Could doing wrong make things right? In the past, he would have believed so, but now he was not so sure. He had promised his father he would return with a bride, and that promise had to be kept.

  As he sat alone eating his supper, he still was uncertain how to proceed. Perhaps if he offered Miss Parker a fair sum, she would agree to pretend to be his bride. The idea of revealing what had happened on this latest journey would be much too humiliating, but how difficult would it be to obtain the woman’s permission? Amelia was only a servant, after all. Any woman in her position would jump at the chance to play a lady, even if it was for a very short amount of time.

  ***

  After breakfast the following morning, Amelia and her aunt walked out of the dining room together.

  Aunt Eleanor smiled. “I have a meeting I must attend this morning, so I will be away for several hours. Forbes will be my driver, so he, too, will not be here. Feel free to explore the house as much as you would like. No area is restricted — besides the private rooms of our residents, of course.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia said. She stifled a yawn. “Perhaps I will have a look around and then take a nap. I am still quite tired.”

  “You had a long journey,” her aunt said. “I cannot imagine carrying such burdens so far and for
so long. Do whatever you like. Rest, take a walk, do some needlework — there is a basket in the drawing room you are welcome to use if you so choose. Treat this home as if it were your own. If you need anything, Forbes can see to it.”

  Amelia thanked the woman again, and each went their own way, her aunt across the hall to the study and Amelia toward the foyer. She stopped at the first door, which was nothing more than a linen closet, and almost screamed when she came face to face with the butler.

  “I am sorry,” she said breathily as she pressed a hand to her breast. She could feel her heart pounding. “I did not hear you approach.”

  “My apologies,” Forbes replied. “My steps are always silent. I did not mean to startle you.”

  The man had a friendly smile, and Amelia felt curious about him. “Have you worked here long?”

  “I have,” he replied. “For many years.”

  Silence fell, and a thought came to Amelia’s mind.

  “It seems I have a cousin named Juliet,” she said, hoping mentioning the name would prompt the man to giving her information without her interrogating him. She did not wish to appear nosy, for she did not like getting into other people’s business. “I understand that I am staying in her room.”

  “Miss Juliet is sorely missed,” Forbes said. “As are all the Lambert children. Having you here has brought sunshine on a dark day.”

  Amelia smiled. She would garner much information from this man. Not that she wanted to pry, but her curiosity about the man on horseback she had encountered the night before was too much to bear.

  “Is Juliet married?”

  “Oh, yes,” Forbes replied. “All the children, except the youngest, Nathaniel, are wed and reside in their own homes.”

  Amelia nodded, but this told her little. “Does Juliet and her husband live nearby?”

  “No, they live quite a ways away.” Forbes furrowed his brow. “Is something bothering you, Miss Amelia?”

  She sighed. “No. Well, I do not want to worry my aunt, but last night on my way here, I had a strange encounter. A man, quite inebriated, thought I was Juliet.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, and he gave me a very strange warning. He said that I should stay away from stable boys, for he would kill one someday. Have you any idea what he meant?”

  “There is no telling what the man was saying,” Forbes replied. “Men are prone to say foolish things when they are drunk.” He offered her a kind smile. “It was wise and considerate of you to not worry your aunt.”

  “Do you believe he was not speaking of my cousin?” Amelia asked. “Could he have been referring to a different Juliet?”

  Forbes chuckled. “I am sure tomorrow the name will be different. If you will excuse me, Miss, I have work to complete.” With a bow, he walked past her and entered the room where Aunt Eleanor was working.

  Amelia pushed aside thoughts of the man on horseback. Juliet was a common enough name that the man could have been referring to any number of women. She was glad she had asked Forbes because now she would not waste time wondering.

  She stifled another yawn. Exploration of the house could wait until later. For now, she wished to rest and therefore returned to what was now her bedroom. Her eyes grew heavy as soon as her head touched the pillow. Although brief flickers of her mother and the woman’s safety came to mind, she found that images of Christopher appropriated her thoughts.

  The argument they had still bothered her and she wished for one more chance to see him. This time she would listen to his apology, if there was one.

  Soon, however, sleep overtook her, as did the realization that an apology from that man would never happen.

  ***

  After her nap, Amelia felt refreshed as she chose one of the many day dresses that hung in the wardrobe. Why had her cousin left so much behind? Perhaps the man she married had offered to buy her new clothes. If that were the case, she had no reason to take all of her old dresses with her. Yes, that had to be it.

  She chose a pale blue muslin embroidered with white daisies and puffy lace sleeves. The chemise was plain but made of linen. How wonderful it was to have such soft fabric touching her skin! And she would have an entire new wardrobe soon enough, all dresses she would have a hand in choosing! It was nearly overwhelming, but only nearly, for she was quite excited about the prospect of going to a dressmaker’s shop.

  As she made her way downstairs, she was surprised for a moment not to find Forbes standing in the doorway. Then she remembered her aunt had said she would be away for a meeting and that Forbes would be accompanying her. How strange that the butler acted as driver, but it was of no concern to Amelia.

  A knock at the door made her pause. Should she answer? At Chatterly Estate only servants answered the door, but she was not a servant here. When the knock repeated, she decided it would be best if she did not keep the person on the other side of the door waiting.

  When she opened the door, however, she wished she had ignored the knock, for there stood Christopher, as resplendent as ever in a finely tailored blue coat and tan breeches that fit his form quite snuggly. He was so handsome!

  She shook the thoughts from her head. It would do her no good to think of him in such a manner!

  “Lord Beaumont,” Amelia said with a curtsy.

  “Ah, Amelia, just the woman for whom I am searching.” He glanced past her. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Oh, my, yes, please do.” She moved aside, and he walked past her. “What may I do for you? Are you in search of my…?” She gulped. She had almost revealed too much once more! “My mistress?”

  “Actually, I am here to speak with you.”

  Amelia raised her brows in shock. “Me? Whyever for?”

  The man surprised her further when he began to pace. “I have come to ask a favor of sorts. I know we did not leave on good terms, and I realize that what I ask is great, but I am willing to pay whatever sum you state.”

  She frowned. “To do what exactly?”

  He sighed. “I need a wife.”

  Chapter Ten

  At first, Amelia raised a single eyebrow. “You need a wife?” she asked flatly. Then she could not help it. She began to laugh. “And you have come to me with this problem?”

  He pursed his lips. “I am not asking you to marry me,” he snapped. Then he inhaled deeply. “I need someone to act as my wife.” He sighed. “I mentioned during our journey that my father is quite ill. Well, I saw him last night, and he has little time left on this earth. Therefore, I would like you to pose as my wife in order to make him happy.”

  “I see,” she replied. “I suppose your inheritance is tied to the man’s happiness?” She stifled a snicker. It would be just like such a man in his station.

  For a moment, Christopher simply stared at her. Then he shook his head as if suddenly realizing what she was asking. “Not at all. My request is completely honorable, I assure you. In truth, I would prefer not to deceive him, but I am running out of time, and the chances of finding a woman willing to marry me before he is gone are flitting away. I will ask nothing more of you beyond an introduction to my father. There will be no announcements or other situations in which you will be required to participate. And as I said, I will pay you for your time.”

  He wore such a pleading look that she was reminded of a puppy begging for a treat. What harm would it do her to play the part of his wife for an afternoon? No one had to know, and she could send the money to her mother to help her make the journey to Scarlett Hall if need be.

  “As long as I play the part for no more than this one time, I will agree.”

  He sighed with clear relief and his body relaxed significantly. “You will never know what this means to me,” he said. “I can speak to Lady Lambert if you need me to do so.”

  She shook her head. That was something she certainly did not want him to do. “That will not be necessary. I am not expected to take my place here for several days, so I am free to complete this task for you.” She worried her
bottom lip. “When will you need me?”

  “If you are available now, I would be very grateful if you came with me.”

  With her aunt gone for several hours, she could not have thought of a more opportune time. “I am,” she replied. “I must get my wrap and a hat. If you would like to wait outside, I will meet you at your carriage.”

  He bowed, his smile broad. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said before walking outside.

  Amelia hurried upstairs and found a wrap in a trunk at the foot of the bed. The overcoat she wore during her journey would not be appropriate, but she had no other coat to wear. Unfortunately, Juliet had taken those with her.

  With a quick glance in the mirror, she smiled. At least she would have the opportunity to repay the man’s willingness to give her safe passage. And she would be able to apologize for her horrendous behavior before she had stomped away like a child having a tantrum.

  And she could do it all without her aunt learning about any of it.

  ***

  The journey to Christopher’s home was short. Amelia sat across from the man, and neither spoke a word, which added a layer of anxiety to the curiosity that plagued her. She had to do her part to smooth what had happened between them before.

  “My lord,” she said in a meek tone, “I wish to —.”

  He lifted a hand and she fell quiet. “Please, it is Christopher, not my lord or Lord Beaumont or any other sort of formal address. You will be my wife for the day, after all.” He said the last with a wide grin.

  “Very well,” she replied. “Christopher, the last time I saw you, I did not mean to leave as I did. I am sorry for my actions that night.”

  “No, the fault lies with me,” he said with a sigh. “I am not a very patient man, as I am sure you have noticed. I did put some thought into what you said to me, however.”

  “Oh?” she asked, trying to wrack her brain to remember her exact words. “And what did I say?”