The Secret Rose (8 page)

She didn’t think her legs would hold her. “And the tenants? You cannot expel them from their homes. They have no place to go.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile on his face. “They will each receive a generous stipend as reward for their loyal service.”

She stared into his eyes and saw only the dark intent of a man used to getting what he wanted. A man intelligent enough, and cunning enough, to know what threats to make to control the futures of those around him. He knew she would never let him cause her tenants a hardship or close the convent. He knew and he didn’t care.

“You think you will only gain from having the ships, Mr. Cambridge?”

“I know I will only lose if I do not have them.”

“Then give me the deed to Fallen Oaks, and I will hand over ownership of the ships.”

“If I made such an exchange with you, you would be the one to watch your tenants starve because you could not support them. And close the convent because you could not maintain it. And watch your estate fall to ruin around your pretty neck because you did not have the money for its upkeep.” He filled his empty glass and took another swallow. “You can hate me today or yourself in the future. I would rather save us both such misery.”

She closed her eyes and thought of the secrets she must always keep from him. “Are you sure you can face Society after taking as your wife the woman your brother discarded?”

“What Society thinks means nothing to me. Saving what Stephen is in jeopardy of losing is all that is important.”

He stepped closer and glared at her with a look that held even more resolve. “My offer still stands. Marriage is your only option if you want to keep Fallen Oaks. Otherwise, I will call for a carriage to take you to London.”

A violent shudder wracked her body. She had no choice.

She walked to the other side of the room and stared out the window as if an answer would magically appear. But there was no answer. No way to keep Fallen Oaks. No way to save the convent. She had no choice but to say the words she swore she would not.

She turned around and faced him squarely. “Very well, Mr. Cambridge. I will agree to marry you.”

She wanted to take the words back as soon as she’d said them, but knew it was too late. She had to buy time, time to figure out another way to keep Fallen Oaks.

“You think you have won, but you have not.” She didn’t even try to keep the acid out of her words. “I will agree to marry you, but not without conditions.”

He lifted his brows, waiting for her to speak.

“First, we will not marry until my year of mourning for my father is over.” She took a step toward him, as if such a move would validate the rest of her demands. “Next, I will have it in writing that you will adequately provide for the convent and the tenants who live on Fallen Oaks from the profits made from the ships. You will never—” She paused and took one more step toward him. “You will never neglect the convent or the tenants or the manor house. And,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I will have the deed to Fallen Oaks in my name as soon as possible, as you will have ownership of the ships. We will go to London to see Sydney Craddock immediately. He will draw up the papers.”

He took a step toward her, the look in his eyes leveled at her. “Do you have any other demands?”

“No.”

“Very well. Then here is my answer. We will not wait one year, but will marry in the spring. Since you have been in mourning for the past year due to your mother’s death, I’m sure no one will object to a small, quiet affair in a few months’ time. After all, you cannot be expected to remain alone and unprotected now that your father is gone.”

She flashed him a hostile look, but he only smiled at her.

“Society has greatly underestimated you,” he said with a good deal of humor in his voice. “They think you are like all other women, weak and incapable of taking care of yourself.”

He paced the room, clasping his hands behind his back. The look on his face had turned even more serious. “The other demands are acceptable. You need never worry over the sisters in the convent or the tenants who work the land. I will always see to the needs of those for whom I am responsible. And, if it is important for you to have the deed to Fallen Oaks in your name, then you will have it.

“Of course, you realize what a marriage between us would mean?” The tone of his voice was flat, hollow. Resigned. “I have no title.”

She stiffened. “You think I am only interested in gaining a title? I am not even interested in gaining a husband.”

“How reassuring.” He paused with his shoulder against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest. “Not exactly the perfect beginning for a marriage.”

“It was your demand to marry. Not mine.”

“I only offered you a way to keep Fallen Oaks.”

“And I only agreed because you gave me no choice.” She turned her head. She refused to let herself think what it would mean to be married to Ethan Cambridge.

He pushed himself away from the fireplace and took a step toward her. “I did not threaten to destroy them. I just do not have the time to stay here and work Fallen Oaks as it needs to be worked. England is no longer my home. I am here only until Stephen returns.”

“What if Stephen does not come back?”

“He will. When he recovers from whatever happened to make him leave, he will come back. Then I can go home. What I own is halfway across the ocean. A small spice plantation in the Caribbean and three cargo ships.”

Ice water washed through her veins. “That is where you live?”

“Yes.”

“And you would expect me to go with you?”

“I would expect you to be my wife.”

“But now you have Fallen Oaks. Surely you would want to stay here, or at least allow me to.”

He lifted his chin. The harsh glare in his eyes forced her to bear the full brunt of the power he wielded. “What is there about this place you cannot give up?”

“It is where I was raised.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s more than that. What is here that you cannot leave?”

She spun away from him. “It is my home. It’s where I belong.” She was determined to make him understand from the start that she would not leave.

He took another step closer to her. The clean smell of the outdoors and the scent of the soap in which he’d bathed filled her head. Confused her thoughts. She turned to face him with squared shoulders and lifted chin. A broad smile brightened his features, causing a riot of unfamiliar stirrings deep in the pit of her stomach.

“Perhaps, in time, it will be impossible for you to stay here without me?”

She tilted her head in defiance and prayed he would not come any closer. “You have my ships, Mr. Cambridge. Be content with the profits you can make from them. It will be the only benefit you receive from our marriage.”

His thick brows arched high. “I think not.” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Our marriage will be a boon to both of us.”

His touch sent a rush of fiery explosions racing to every part of her. Her traitorous body gave way to emotions she swore she would never let herself feel. Her heart ached to come alive, to be filled with something other than loneliness and bitterness and loss. But she couldn’t allow it. She remembered the hurt, the pain of betrayal, the loss and emptiness. She would never hurt like that again.

Abigail pushed herself away from him. “It is a warning I give you now. Do not expect more. When you leave, I will not go with you.”

The deep blue of his eyes turned even darker, the masked expression on his face even more obscure. “Do not think, Abigail, that every order you give will become a reality. So far, you have been the only one to make demands. That will soon change.”

He locked his gaze with hers for a long moment, then turned away. “Palmsworth,” he announced from the center of the room.

The butler appeared as if he had his hand on the door, waiting to be called.

“Bring your mistress’s cloak and have a carriage brought round.”

“Yes, sir.”

Abigail rushed to object. “I don’t—”

He ignored her protest and continued his instructions. “Miss Langdon and I are going out for a while and will be back in a few hours. Would you ask Cook to have dinner ready when we return? I missed lunch and am quite hungry.”

“Yes, sir.” Palmsworth started to back out of the room.

“Palmsworth,” he ordered again. “Have Miss Langdon’s maid begin packing. We will leave in the morning for London.”

Palmsworth nodded once, then left. Abigail stood rooted to her spot and gaped after him.

Without giving her a chance to argue, he spun back to her. “The sun has come out, and it has turned into a beautiful winter’s day. Before we leave for London, I should like to meet a few of the tenants and speak to your father’s steward. I am sure he will manage well enough in our absence, but it is best we come to an understanding before we leave.”

Abigail opened her mouth to speak, but he held out his hand to silence her.

“There is also the convent for which I am now responsible. I would like to see it.”

Fingers of fear spiraled through her body, and she shook her head. “There is no need to go to the convent. Everything is already in place to see to its needs.”

“That may be so. But I would still like to see it before we leave for London. It seems especially important to you, and I’d like to know why.”

She paced the floor, searching for a way to change what was happening. There was none. “How long do you expect us to be in London?”

“A few weeks. Perhaps longer. There are banns to be read and announcements to be made. Although you will not be able to attend any social affairs due to your father’s recent death, there are still small family gatherings at which we will be expected to make an appearance. You can hardly expect me to go to London to announce our impending marriage and proclaim myself the future owner of Langdon Shipping without you at my side to tell the world it is true, and show them how happy we are about our new state of affairs.”

“I doubt your mother will be happy to hear our good news.”

“I doubt she will, either, but she will either accept it or be content to spend the rest of her life in poverty.”

Abigail felt the sting of his meaning. She knew why he had agreed to marry her. Because he wanted her ships, and he could not bring himself to hand over the deed to Fallen Oaks. It was his misplaced sense of honor that forced him to take care of Stephen’s financial mess. It was an even more misplaced sense of principled integrity that forced him to take care of her.

She intended to use the few months he’d given her to show him she did not need him.

“The carriage is in front, sir,” Palmsworth said, standing at the door with their heavy cloaks in his arms.

Ethan took hers and placed it around her shoulders. She tried to hold back the shiver that shook her body when he touched her, but she couldn’t.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” She wrapped the cloak tighter around her.

“Here,” he said, handing her a thick fur muff, then putting on his own cloak. “This will help keep you warm.”

Abigail wrapped a thick woolen muffler around her neck then slid her trembling hands into the muff. She wanted to tell him all the clothes in the world would not stop the chill that shook her body.

His hand rested lightly on her back as he led her from the house. The heat from his touch burned through the thick layers of clothing. Doubt and indecision ate away at her. She was left trembling from the inside out.

Didn’t he know she had more to fear from him than from the cold and the wind? Didn’t he know she would never trust him, no matter how desperately she wanted to? Putting her life in any man’s hands was a lesson Stephen proved would destroy her. It was a lesson she would never forget.

She walked with him to the waiting carriage, the safety and surety of his nearness a false panacea to the trembling fear that would not go away. How could she ever feel safe with him? There were too many secrets to separate them.

She thought of the bargain she’d just struck with him and knew she could never honor it. There was too much at stake. Too much she would lose. Let him think he could marry her for her ships. That is all he wanted anyway. Let him think all his problems had been solved. They had only just begun. She had survived far greater threats than Ethan Cambridge and his misplaced sense of honor and responsibility.

She would go through the motions, pretend to agree to his proposal, but in the end, it would not be as he thought. Sydney would draw up the papers. Once they were signed, she would have Fallen Oaks and he would have her ships. He would be the only one who thought there would be more.

One fact was for certain. She had no intention of ever becoming his wife.

Ethan stood alone in the quiet of a world already gone to sleep and stared at the multitude of shining stars that twinkled in the clear winter sky. Here at Fallen Oaks, away from the rude London noises, and despite the day’s earlier hard-fought battle, he felt strangely at peace. A huge moon shone radiant and full, reflecting its silver spires upon the blanket of pure white snow in a dazzling display of gleaming splendor. The vivid brilliance cast his room in a brightness more powerful than that of a hundred glowing candles.

Downstairs, the clock struck one, then two, and still sleep eluded him with a vengeance. What was there about her that caused such emotions to rage unguarded? What great secret did she hide?

Memories of the day he’d spent with the woman he would soon take as his wife refused to go away. Whatever she wanted to keep secret was not just hidden at Fallen Oaks, but was concealed behind the convent walls.

The minute their carriage pulled up to the large stone enclosure, her demeanor changed with alarming ferocity. She became as protective as a starving man guarding his last morsel of bread.

Did she think he would not care for the sisters as her father had before him? Oh, how he wanted to reach out to her and show her she had nothing to fear from him.

The startling realization of how he felt frightened him. Why did he feel so protective toward her? Why couldn’t he just hand over the deed to Fallen Oaks and leave?