Road to Rosewood

by Ashtyn Newbold

  His words hit me like a physical blow, striking me squarely in the chest.

  Nicholas refused to look at me. I was glad, because I didn’t want him to see me cry.

  Turning back toward the door, I pushed it open and closed it slowly behind me. I couldn’t feel myself walking. Before I realized what had happened, I was in my bedchamber with the door locked behind me. Anguish stirred feelings of inadequacy and grief in my heart until I couldn’t bear it. I never wanted to come here again. I never wanted to see Nicholas again. I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed until my eyes were dry. There were a million different ways he could have said the things he said.

  In the many hours that followed, I played the same words across my mind like musical notes. I will never forgive him. I will never forgive him. I will never forgive him.

  SIXTEEN

  The air was colder when I was pulled out of my memory. Tears streaked down my cheeks; I hadn’t noticed them falling. I had to leave. Now. But then Nicholas bent his head over mine, lifting his hand to my face. It was warm where his fingers traced the side of my cheek. I wanted to tell myself this was only an elaborate game, a trap, but the look in Nicholas’s eyes was too raw and too real.

  But as I looked up at him I could only see the outline of a pale gray morning sky instead of the darkness of evening. I could only see a narrower, younger face and fierce, uncharacteristic eyes.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked. “Why did you say those things?” My voice hardly escaped my throat. He was my dearest friend, and he had ruined it all in few short sentences.

  Nicholas’s hand cupped my cheek, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the apology in his eyes, the desperation for me to understand. “Because I didn’t want you to love me.”

  “I know that,” I choked.

  Nicholas shook his head. “No. You misunderstand. There was a world you hadn’t seen. I always pictured you charming away a duke and living in a home like Rosewood—you loved it so much. I knew if you loved me it would be far too easy to love you, and that wouldn’t be fair. You deserved so much more than me. You still do.”

  My head was shaking. I couldn’t believe the things I was hearing. I couldn’t speak. Nicholas stared down at me, and I thought my heart would burst. He was so close. This needed to stop. How vastly inappropriate the entire situation was. My head fought to clear itself, but Nicholas had a way of banishing any rational thought from my mind.

  “I need to leave,” I said abruptly. I sniffed, looking down and stepping back. Nicholas’s hand fell from my cheek. I tried to appear firm and strong, but inside I was weaker than I had ever been. “Perhaps we may speak tomorrow, in the light of day, and under much more proper circumstances after we have both had a plentiful rest.”

  Farther away, Nicholas’s face was lost in shadow, but I saw his head nod. “Allow me to walk you back.”

  “We may be seen,” I said.

  “We won’t be seen.”

  Quiet and slow, he stepped toward me and extended his arm. I swallowed, wrapping my hand around his elbow. My fingers were stiff and cold, but I forced them not to shake, which I was quite proud of. Nicholas’s arm pressed against mine, and I felt every movement, memorized every step of his boots, as we walked the short distance through the dark to the back door of the house. Just being near Nicholas had my heart racing. The silence between us was tangible, and the tension was excruciating. My insides jumped and spun, catching fire and making my breath catch. After we had been walking for several seconds, I dared to glance up at him.

  His eyes met mine and hovered there in the dark.

  I looked away.

  Finally we stopped near the set of bushes that marked the back entrance. I took a step away from him. It was brighter here, closer to the house. The candlelight from within stretched out the windows and down to where we stood. Nicholas’s features were dim, but I could see them.

  “Good night,” I said in a quiet voice.

  He watched me, eyes fixed on mine. He was silent.

  “Good night,” I repeated, taking a step toward the door.

  His expression reflected a battle of some sort, torn over a certain decision.

  Before I could question what that look meant, he filled the small space between us with two steps. “Nicholas—” I started, heart pounding. He held my upper arms, keeping me still, stopping my words. And then he bent his head down to mine and kissed me.

  My lips parted in a gasp, and he kissed me again, deeply, slowly. My heart ached. I couldn’t think—I could only feel as his fingers threaded in my hair and his lips moved over mine. He held my face between his hands, holding me as if I were fragile but kissing me as if I were not. His lips moved to the corner of my mouth, to my cheek, and I whispered for him to stop.

  He moved back fast, dropping his hands from my face and hair. His breath came as quickly as mine did, visible in the cold air. I stared at him, my eyes wide. His cheeks were flushed.

  “Why did you do that?” My voice was a weak whisper.

  He hesitated before giving a half smile, barely visible in the dimness. “You’ve been stealing my breath for as long as I can remember, Lucy. It was far past time I stole yours.”

  I wanted to kiss him again, to let him steal my breath as much as he wanted. The flush had begun to fade from his cheeks and his smile was growing. Had I really just been kissed by that smile? A great knot of regret and dread tried to form in my stomach, but the fluttering joy and amazement untethered it. Without saying another word, Nicholas walked away from me.

  He simply walked away.

  I watched his back until I couldn’t see him anymore. Then I leaned against the side of the building, willing my heart to slow and my legs to quit their shaking. I pressed my hand to my chest and waited for my emotions to realign. I brought my fingers to my lips in shock. It didn’t feel real. Surely nothing so perfect could be real.

  I didn’t know what to believe—what was true and what was false about this evening, but I knew one thing for certain. That kiss had most definitely been breathtaking.

  I had begun to doubt the wisdom of sneaking over to the Bancrofts’ home and discovering the mysteries inside. In fact, I fully intended to hide in my room for the rest of my life rather than risk seeing Nicholas again. My cheeks burned with every thought of the previous night. And there had been many.

  Kitty knew something was different. At breakfast she had stared at me with an inquisitive eyebrow, and I had avoided her gaze. I was busy watching out the window, hoping and also dreading that Nicholas would walk past and see me. I didn’t know what to think. I only knew I needed to distance myself from him in order to gather my thoughts.

  After sitting in my room for several hours, I decided to make a trip to the village. My solitude was driving me mad, and I missed perusing the millinery and admiring all the bright colors. Mr. Connor had always entertained me for hours within his shop, and I missed those days desperately. It felt like I had been away from Craster for months rather than weeks. The more I thought about it, the more things I found to love about the place I had taken for granted. It was my home. Dover was only my escape. It would likely be several days before I received word from my family. I missed them.

  Without waiting for a companion, I took the walk to the village alone. It was only a short distance from Rosewood, and the crisp air was precisely what I needed to clear my mind. I played Nicholas’s words over and over in my head, trying to make sense of them. He had told me that he regretted his harshness toward me. Then he had said that he had only spoken those things because he didn’t want me to love him. He thought I deserved more. My heart picked up speed as I recalled everything with clarity. What had that kiss meant to him? Was he saying goodbye? Was he confessing his love? Was he taunting me? I squeezed my eyes shut to stop my thoughts. I needed to speak to him but I was afraid. There was too much between us now. Too many raw and real things. He had begged for my forgiveness.

  I started at the millinery, pausing to admire the beautifu
l hats and ribbons that I had always loved. The shelves here were even taller, packed tightly with different fashions and colors.

  After spending several minutes surveying the shelves in the millinery, I exited the door. I was met with a breeze that smelled of scones, and I was reminded of the times Kitty and I would come here with Aunt Edith for scones in the bakery. They had a delightful assortment of miniature pies as well. My favorite had been the blackberry. My mouth watered at the scents that carried to my nose on the wind. Although I didn’t have money, I was quite certain that smells were free of charge. Stepping closer to the door of the bakery across the street, I held my bonnet to my head with one hand to keep it from tumbling in the breeze. I inhaled deeply.

  “May we please have a pie today? Please?” A tiny voice sounded from beside me. I looked down to where a young boy with blond curls tugged on my skirts. His companion was a slightly taller boy with dark hair and freckles.

  “Charles!” the second boy warned, staring up at me with wide eyes.

  The blond boy looked at me in alarm, pulling his hand back. His round cheeks turned a bit rosier. “I’m sorry … lady. I thought you were my sister.” He grinned, giggling to himself. The taller boy rolled his eyes before erupting in giggles as well.

  I smiled down at them. “Not to worry. I would very much like to be your sister. I don’t have any brothers of my own.” I winked.

  They exchanged a look, grinning without reservation.

  “What are your names? Perhaps I may help you find your real sister.”

  The blond boy looked up at me, stretching on the tips of his toes. His eyes were blue and sparking with mischief. “My name is Charles. And that is my brother, Peter.”

  Peter grinned. He had two rather large front teeth that had likely just grown in. “We always run to the bakery when we come to the village. Annette knows we will be here.”

  “Is Annette your sister?” I asked.

  They nodded in unison. My smile grew as I looked down at them. I had always wanted brothers. This Annette was a fortunate girl.

  “There she is!” Charles pointed a finger behind me. I whirled around, offering a wave to the woman that approached us. She appeared to be close in age to me, with light brown hair and a pale blue dress. She carried another tiny boy on her hip, this one likely only just learning to walk. As she rushed toward us, the toddler squealed and tugged on her hair. She smiled, huffing out an exasperated breath. “Boys, please do not run off again!” She shook her head as they giggled, stepping around me and taking their places by her side.

  “They are very charming boys,” I said through a laugh. “I was mistaken for you just moments ago.”

  She laughed, covering her mouth with her free hand. “I hope they did not cause you trouble.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all.” My eyes swept over her again. She was dressed simply but elegantly. Her face was marked with freckles and her green eyes sparked with life and joy. Her arm holding the young child was strung with bags. “You seem to have your hands quite full,” I said. “I am happy to help you carry your purchases to your destination. I have nothing else to occupy my time, and your brothers are very agreeable.”

  She looked as if she wanted to refuse me, but seemed to change her mind, her face melting in gratitude. “Oh, I cannot thank you enough. What is your name?” She shifted her arm and I took the bags and hung them over my own arm.

  “Lucy Abbot. I understand your name is Annette?” I grinned as Charles stared up at me. His tiny hand wrapped tentatively around mine. Peter giggled beside him.

  “Yes, Annette Kellaway.” She brushed the hair from her eyes and laughed. “And this is my son, Philip.”

  We started walking in the opposite direction, away from Rosewood. “May I ask where you live?” I asked.

  “Willowbourne. It isn’t far from here.” Her voice was casual, but my eyes widened in surprise. This was the mistress of Willowbourne? It was the largest estate in Dover, perhaps even the entire county of Kent. It was beautiful. Yet here she was with her arms full, living the role of middle class mother.

  “You cannot be serious! Willowbourne?”

  She gave a shy smile. “My husband inherited the estate from an uncle. Where do you live? I don’t believe I have seen you in town before.”

  “I am visiting my uncle and cousin at Rosewood.” My smile felt heavy as I left out the aunt part.

  “Rosewood is a beautiful place. I have only seen it once from the outside.” She wiped little Philip’s chin and turned her smile to me. I couldn’t help but smile back. Charles had begun walking faster, pulling me along beside him. “How long will you be in Dover?”

  I puzzled over what I should say. The journey back to Craster sounded terrible after the trouble I had undertaken to arrive here. But I missed my family so much my heart ached. I couldn’t bear the thought of living under such a bitter, gray sky and wet winds. The air here was dry and crisp—rejuvenating. And the sky was blue.

  “I am still deciding,” I said in a soft voice. “Do your brothers occupy your home as well?”

  She nodded. “Yes. My mother and father passed away when Charles was just an infant. I have cared for them ever since. We lived with my aunt in Maidstone before I met Owen—er—my husband, Dr. Kellaway. We have been married two years.” She eyed her brothers. “The boys are happier now, and much more well behaved. I have never been more happy.” Her smile grew with content, her green eyes shining with joy.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “What a wonderful improvement your life has been given. I am certain you deserve every happiness.” My shoulders dropped a little as I thought about that very word. Happiness.

  Annette tilted her head, studying my face. “What is troubling you? I may be speaking too freely, but I want to help you in any way I can. You have been very kind to me.”

  We made a left turn and my eyes widened at the bright golden stone of Willowbourne in the distance. It had dozens of windows, immaculate grounds, and a pond in the center of the front lawn, reflecting with brilliance under the sun. The trees surrounding the property were turning color—soft orange and vibrant yellow. I nearly forgot what Annette had asked me.

  “There are many things troubling me,” I said, smiling to lighten my words. “But I do not know how you can help me.” I shrugged.

  “You may start by speaking to me. Perhaps together we can create a solution.” Charles released my hand and tapped Peter on the shoulder. Together they ran ahead, laughing as they raced to the property of Willowbourne.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “May I venture a guess? It involves a man, does it not?”

  I threw her a look of surprise. “How did you know?”

  “I can see it in your face.” She snorted back another laugh. “Please enlighten me.”

  For an odd reason, I felt that I could trust her. I was not one to take down barriers with near strangers, but Annette and I felt like kindred spirits already. So I told her about Nicholas (omitting the details of the previous night), and about the secrets of Rosewood. She listened until we reached the doors of Willowbourne, and we waited on the steps as I told her the last part that had been weighing on my mind.

  Annette hadn’t spoken a word for several minutes—she had simply listened. Finally she said, “I know it is difficult to forget the past, but believe me when I say that there is nothing more freeing. I would not have married Owen had I not given up the things that no longer mattered, ideas that I was too stubborn to release. I cannot imagine the regret I would feel.”

  There it was again. Regret. “I want to show him that I still care for him, but I’m too afraid. And he is still hiding something from me. I cannot continue being lied to. He has vowed to not follow the path of his previous choices, but his mother’s health is steadily declining. He cannot afford to help her, and nor can I. Never have I felt more helpless.” I took a deep breath.

  Annette’s eyes grew wider. “My husband is a physician! He wished to continue his occupation as a doctor, and
so he has.” Her face lit up when she spoke of him, and her lips twisted in a smile. “He will attend to your Nicholas’s mother. I assure you, it will be of no charge to his family.”

  I stared at her, emotion clawing at my throat. My eyes stung. “That is too much.”

  Annette smiled, shaking her head. “He will make his first visit on Thursday.”

  In two days. There were no words I could say to thank her for such a generous gift. I was buoyed up with hope so strong it made breathing difficult. I threw my arms around her, nearly knocking poor Philip out of her arms with the bags I held. “Sorry! So sorry.” I wiped my nose and laughed, and Annette joined me.

  We stepped inside the estate and I was even more amazed by the interior. Spacious and elegant, the walls were draped with elaborate curtains and flawless paintings. From around the corner, I heard footfalls echoing fast against the marble floors. A man stepped into sight, his smile wide and inviting. He had deep blond hair and striking blue eyes, and there was a twinge of mischief in his smile to match the boys. He stepped toward Annette and scooped Philip from her arms, making him giggle. Bending down, he kissed Annette, making her blush and glance at me apologetically. “Owen!” She gasped, swatting him on the arm. He chuckled.

  Annette introduced me to her husband, and he assured me that he would be happy to assist Nicholas’s mother. My heart swelled with gratitude. “Please do not tell Nicholas that I was at all involved in your generosity.”

  Dr. Kellaway tilted his head with a frown. “Why not?”

  “Just please … do not mention my name. I would prefer that he consider it a miracle. Men like Nicholas are in need of a miracle.”

  He grinned. “Very well.”

  After visiting with them for several minutes, I offered my thanks as profusely as I could manage and excused myself. As I walked down the front path, I glanced back. Peter and Charles waved at me from the largest window before dipping their heads and hiding from my view. Before I reached the end of the property, I caught sight of both boys running toward me on the lawn. They each held a bright yellow flower in their hands.