Page 69 of The Thorn and the Rose

Footsteps pounded in the darkness, and then she saw the glare of a candle that seemed blinding after so long in the pitch dark.

“Marie! My God, Marie! What happened?” Thomas demanded, holding out his arms to her.

Rosemarie flew into his embrace, holding on tight and weeping as the terror of the past moments hit her hard. “S-Scuttler…” she said, hardly able to get the words out. “He tried to take me. I… I led him down the tunnels, into a cavern. He f-fell. He’s… He’s dead, but Everett... Everett is out of gaol,” she said and, this time, she fainted for real.

11th December 1849, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent.

“Here, love, you sip that,” Matilda said, pressing a glass of brandy into Rosemarie’s hand.

She was still shaking, the poor darling, and little wonder. Thorn could hardly comprehend what she had gone through, the bravery and cleverness she had shown, and thoughts plagued him of what might have happened if things had gone differently.

“Here.”

Thorn looked up to see his father handing him a rather larger measure, which he gratefully accepted. His parents had listened in horror to Rosemarie’s account of what had happened and the atmosphere in the usually cosy parlour was tense.

“I’ll make enquiries first thing and find out what happened to your brother,” Montagu said, his expression troubled.

Rosemarie nodded. “We must keep this from Mama. I don’t want her to know what happened. It will only distress her and there is no point in that.”

“As you think best,” his father said. “But you need to rest. It’s late and you’ve had a distressing day.”

Matilda nodded and got to her feet. “Come along, my dear. Bring the brandy with you. I’ll see you settled in bed and give you something to help you sleep.”

Thorn got to his feet, not wanting to let her out of his sight, but his mother gave him a stern look. “She needs to rest, Thomas. She’s quite safe here with us.”

Reluctantly, Thorn had to agree to this, and leaned in to kiss Rosemarie’s cheek. “You sleep, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Rosemarie nodded and returned a smile, which must have taken a deal of effort, for she looked pale and exhausted, and little wonder.

His father waited until the door closed before he spoke.

“I don’t like loose ends, Thomas. That brother of hers needs dealing with.”

Thorn nodded, his expression grim. “You took the words right out of my mouth, sir.”

18thDecember 1849, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent.

Rosemarie picked up the correspondence collected from Magpie Hall by one of Montagu’s employers. Three more unpaid bills for poor Thomas to take care of. Though she knew it must rankle to pay her brother’s debts, he never gave the slightest sign of it. He only wanted her name to be free of scandal by association. The knowledge that Everett was out there somewhere, at liberty to cause trouble, made her feel sick to her stomach. He had bribed his way out of gaol, from what they could gather. How and with what, Rosemarie could not fathom, but that mattered little. More important was that there was no trace of him to be found.

Lord Montagu had men everywhere, searching for him, and Rosemarie went nowhere without Thomas and an army of footmen to attend her. Not that she wanted to leave Dern at all. It did not feel safe.

Thomas was not home yet. They had gone to town to celebrate the marriage of Lord Frederick Adolphus to a Miss Agatha Smith. Thomas had not been pleased about leaving Rosemarie alone, but the idea of facing the ton at such a public affair, and with Everett on the loose, had made her too anxious to even contemplate attending the wedding. Thomas had wished to remain at home with her, but she refused to have him miss out because of her. Lord Fred was a dear friend of the family, and it would be a joyous celebration. There would be other occasions, happy events where they could be together, she had told him. She prayed that was true.

They had delayed their move from Dern Palace to the lovely house on the Dern estate that Montagu had gifted her mother. Montagu had smoothly informed the lady that there were improvements he simply must make before they move in, and that he insisted they stay on until everything was perfect. However, the truth was they were safer at Dern than in one of the estate villages, where their presence might be remarked upon, and it would be harder to protect them all.

Rosemarie frowned as she sifted through the letters and found one in a hand she recognised all too well. Breaking the seal, she opened it and read the contents, her blood chilling in her veins as she followed the dreadful words.

To my dear sister,

You must think yourself very fortunate to have landed on your feet. Do you think you’ll get your happily ever after, Rosemarie, my sweet? Do you think he’ll marry you? Even if he did, a man like that would never be faithful to you. There will be a line of mistresses already queuing up to please him. I’m afraid I cannot let that happen. I cannot let you fall into the hands of such a man.

Marry him at your peril.

I am watching you.

Everett.

18thDecember 1849, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent.