Rose,
Please do not judge me for what I am about to tell you, and please do not judge me for telling you via a letter. I meant to tell you everything when you were home, but Father was there, and I did not want him to overhear me, lest he guess what I was planning to do.
I still cannot believe it, Rose. I lie awake at night and wonder how… I suppose I should not be so surprised, as this is our father, and this was always going to happen. Silly me for daring to dream.
Father refused Julian’s offer of marriage. Not only did he refuse, but he grew furious at the suggestion, insulted even. He acted as if Julian were some street urchin, and I was a foolish, lovesick child unable to see how I was being duped. He threatened to throw Julian out of the manor by his collar, such was his fury.
I refuse to live in a world where Julian and I will not be together. I refuse!
Last evening, I fled from home. Julian and I will marry, even if we must do it in another country from which we will never return. We are on our way to Scotland now, as Aunt Fiona lives there. She will shelter us, I am sure of it. After which, hopefully, she will help us disappear.
I write to you not to invoke fear but hope. You never wanted to marry His Grace, and I know you wish you had not. I ask you, Rose, come with Julian and me . Leave it all behind. Go somewhere His Grace will not be able to find you, and be free once and for all.
I have attached the address of an inn we shall stay in for two nights. This should give you more than enough time to come to us. Please consider it, Rose. You saved me once; allow me to save you.
Your beloved sister,
Marianne
Rose read the letter three times before she fully comprehended its meaning… and its consequence. And once both of these things settled on her shoulders, the panic set in quickly.
Marianne… what have you done?
It had been a beautiful and bright summer’s day when Mr. Carter had come to her, but now storm clouds began to gather,and a cold wind swept across the garden that had her shaking. Such was the effect of the letter.
That Rose’s father had denied Marianne’s request to marry Julian was not a huge surprise. Indeed, Rose had predicted that he might. But she had also assumed that when that happened, she would have a chance to speak to him and change his mind. Rose, more than anyone, would have been able to convince her father to let Marianne marry him.
A shame that she never got the chance.
She read the letter again, swallowing the lump in her throat, while trying to ignore the pit that grew in her stomach. Marianne had run away and, if her words were true, she did not plan on coming back. That alone would have been cause for alarm, but it wasn’t what Rose focused on.
She means for me to run away with her. She truly believes that I would want such a thing. That she would be saving me.
It was a sweet gesture, if not painfully misguided. Perhaps once, Rose would have considered it. But so much had changed since she married the Duke, and the idea of running away and never seeing him again did not sit well with her at all.
In fact, Rose felt guilty to even think of such a thing. She remembered Christopher’s anger a few days ago when he thought that she was in trouble, how much he had worried over her. Perhaps he was not the kindest, most generous soul she’d ever met, but she knew now that beneath the hard shell that hewore, there was another side of him. One that she was starting to fall for…
All that was to say that she had no intention of running away.
She also wasn’t going to simply sit back and do nothing. If her sister did run, the chaos that would cause was unimaginable. Marianne might think it was her chance to be happy, but Rose knew better. She would spend her life living in fear, looking over her shoulder, and never truly being free.
She deserves to be happy, and this is not happiness. It is running, and I cannot allow Marianne to make such a huge mistake. If I do all of this, everything I have done for her will be for nothing.
Rose came to a decision quickly.
She was up and striding across the garden and back indoors. “Mr. Carter!” she called after the Head of Staff. “Mr. Carter!”
“Yes, Your Grace?” he appeared as if from nowhere.
“His Grace,” she said. “Where is he?”
Had Rose had time to think about it, she might have realized how significant it was that her first thought was to seek out her husband and ask him for help. Again, it was something that even a week ago would have been inconceivable. Now, it felt right.
“I am afraid that he is out for the day, Your Grace.”
“What? Where?”
“London. Is there something I can help you with?”
