Rose stilled, her churning emotions settling. “What?”
He unfolded one of the pieces of paper, glanced down at it, then back at Rose. “A number of things have happened over the past two weeks of which you may not be aware. The first is that Denis Northey is in Newgate prison. His family has disowned him. He will be brought up on trial in two weeks. Thomas will testify. Cecily has volunteered to do so, but the magistrate has said he will try to avoid calling the ladies. Without his family, Northey has no money to help him. He made an appeal to Bentley’s family, but it went ignored.”
Rose blinked. “Bentley’sfamily?”
Edmund glanced at the paper again. “Bentley’s brother lives somewhere in Kent with their mother.” He paused. “Bentley never regained consciousness after... that night. The doctors don’t think he will.”
“But he might?”
Edmund shook his head. “No. They say there is too much damage. Even if he woke up, he would not be the same man. The magistrate looked into it. Thomas has been cleared. Everyone knows his actions were to defend you.”
Athena squirmed to be freed, and Rose let her go. The orange cat curled up on the far corner of the bed, watching Rose.
He had looked like hell...
“How is he?”
Her father unfolded a second letter. “He writes that his wound was not reopened as badly as they first thought. He no longer uses his cane for stability. He would like to see you, and asks that I send for him anytime he could be of help to you or anyone in this household.” Edmund glanced at the letter again and a smile crossed his face. “He says to tell you that he has talked to several men who grumbled that Lord Philby never gambles, despite his wealth, which they would dearly like to divest him of.” He looked down, reading this time. “‘Philby’s desire for adventure extends primarily to trying a different brandy. He has no interest in games of chance, although he has been known to invest in a scientific expedition to the South Seas. It is said he is so smitten with a certain young lady that he has failed to notice other members of her sex even exist.’”
Rose realized she was smiling. “That bodes well for our Cecily.”
Edmund reached and took her hand. “Indeed. So will you help us get her married to the man before they both come to their senses?”
She stared at him. “Is that the favor?”
He nodded.
Rose swallowed hard. “I will try.”
Edmund shook his head, leaning a little closer. “No. I have never heard you use the word ‘try’ in your life. My Rose does not ‘try.’ I know you. If you promise me you will do this, you will find a way.”
“You are asking a great deal of me. We both know that.”
“As I just saw. But when have I not asked more of you than any of us thought you could give?”
Rose released a long breath, and she touched him on the cheek. “You are a beast and I hate you.”
Edmund leaned back in the chair and laughed. As his mirth eased, he held out the third letter, which had not been opened. “He sent this with the one for me. He asked if I would make sure you got it... because he wanted to know if you refused it.”
He had looked like an angel...
At the instant she had needed it most, Thomas had infused her with hope.
Rose reached for the letter. “Am I at least allowed to read it in private?”
Edmund stood, replaced the chair at her desk, and brought her a letter knife. “Let me know if you need to send a response.” With a gentle kiss on her forehead, he left.
Rose broke the seal cautiously and unfolded the missive, relishing the feel of the stiff and expensive foolscap under her fingers, the lingering sent of expensive ink. She stretched her legs out and flattened the page on her lap.
Friday, 10 June 1825
My dearest Rose—
I am sending this by your father, in hopes that you will see it in the privacy of your own room. I have attempted to write you several times over the past two weeks, but my attempts at formal and proper language have failed me before the ink had even dried. My sense of propriety in this matter has given way to a note of desperation.
I understand your refusal to see me—I cannot imagine the distress and pain the events at Blackmore’s Ball caused you. I know you need time. Yet I will also admit that I desire to see you, to be with you in such a way that our separation has caused an ache I cannot relieve. When I took you into my arms that night, I never wanted to release you.
But now I am forced to ask. Do you want me to?
