“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. And it is all I want still. You will be happy, won’t you?”
The worry in his voice almost broke her heart.
“Yes, Papa. I will. I know it with all my heart.”
He gave her hand another squeeze and then Rowena walked into the hallway. As she made her way upstairs, she passed Sabrine. The girl smiled broadly at her.
“Everything is packed, My Lady. We are ready for the big move tomorrow.”
Rowena gave her a gracious nod. “Very well. The house on Half Moon street may be smaller than this one, but it is ever so charming. And the servant chambers have all of their windows,” she winked at her new lady’s maid who returned the smile.
“Yes, My Lady. I saw.”
“I hear it is not far from where your parents live, so perhaps you may be able to see Marigold a little more often.”
“I hope so, My Lady.”
The young girl curtsied as they parted ways and Rowena climbed the steps to her chamber.
* * *
She entered her chamber to find Catherine and Betsy sitting on the bed, side by side, an array of necklaces around them.
“Faith, we will let Rowena decide. It is her big day after all.” Catherine held a pearl necklace up and another, smaller pendant with a single rose. “Which shall I wear?” She held them both up to her neck.
Rowena suddenly found herself reminded of the day not long ago when she’d stepped out of their country home and into the rose garden to see her friends there. It had been the day of the Royal Wedding, and now it was the day before her own. How things had changed.
“The rose. I will wear my necklace from Papa, it will compliment it nicely. And yours too, Betsy. We will all match!”
Betsy clasped her own necklace. The pretty rose-gold necklace supported a pretty opaque-colored moonstone. It was a gift from Rowena’s mother, to bring Betsy luck in her next position.
“Indeed. Faith, Rowena I cannot believe our lives are about to change once more.”
“And for the better this time, Betsy,” Rowena said, resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. Betsy would soon be taking a position as a school teacher at a girl’s school in Bath. To ensure Betsy’s safety at the new location, Lady Hazelshire had insisted on inspecting the facility and questioning the head mistress herself the week prior. Satisfied with the visit, she’d ensured Betsy was given a horse of her own, as well as a coin purse full of emergency funds, should she run into trouble once more.
However, Rowena felt certain that this, the school, might truly be Betsy’s calling.
Just then, there was a knock on the door and Lady Hazelshire entered. Seeing the three girls on the bed, she paused, looking from one to the next. There was something of the old, judgmental air about her, as if she wanted to comment unfavorable on something. Their appearance, perhaps. Or the mess of jewelry that was spread out on the bed. However, it dissipated within a moment.
“Well, what a lovely sight, all three of my girls together once more.”
She walked over toward them, taking the rose necklace from Catherine’s hand.
“For the wedding?” she asked. Catherine nodded, eyeing her mother suspiciously, expecting criticism. To all their surprise, she broke into a smile, looking from one to the next. “How fortunate we all are to have come through this ordeal unscathed. And all of you with bright futures ahead of you still.” She grew quiet and shook her head, sadness marking her face.
“What is it, Mama? Has something happened?”
She gave a small shrug. “Nothing happened. Although I had the misfortune of seeing Her Grace, the Duchess of Thornmouth today.”
The name alone sent Rowena’s head spinning. Too fresh were the memories of being held captive in the woman’s house by her horrid son. The Duke of Thornmouth, of course, was now being held at the gaol in the center of the city, along with his valet, Williams. His position as Duke greatly complicated the matter of justice, as there was some debate in the House of Lords as to how to handle his criminal conduct.
His mother, meanwhile, had been forced to leave their home due to the extensive smoke damage from the fire. She’d heard Lord Portsmouth had taken her in, until her son’s fate was revealed, but that had been theon dit.
“Did you speak to her?” Catherine asked, breathlessly.
Their mother shook her head. “I did not. Nor do I wish to. I certainly have much I could say to her, but none of it is kind. Sometimes it is best to hold your tongue. In any case, she looks like a broken woman. She was walking with,” she stopped and glanced at Betsy, her eyes softening, “Lady Portsmouth.”
Betsy took a deep breath but did not otherwise react.
