Chapter 29
The first fingers of dawn were just curling over the horizon when Adrian met Edmund on the outskirts of the village.
The other man was saddled and ready to depart, wearing a long black coat and an even longer face. Adrian was not sure what his plans were after leaving the village, but he had written asking for a meeting, and this was the only time Edmund was willing to make. It did not surprise Adrian.
After all that Edmund had wrought in the village, he would not be well-received if he showed his face openly.
Adrian slid off his horse, and tethered it to a post before walking quietly to Edmund’s side.
Far away in the village, a dog barked. Other than that, the world seemed quiet and still in the early morning mists.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Adrian said. “I was not sure that you would.”
“What would you have done if I had not agreed?” Edmund asked sullenly. “I suppose you would have turned me into the authorities like you did Drake? And Stanley?”
“I included no threat in my letter,” Adrian said gravely. “If you read one in between the lines, then it was a fault of your own, not mine. Had you not met me here, as agreed, the loss would have been entirely yours and I could have wiped my hands and conscience clean of your future with ease.”
Edmund frowned. “I do not understand.”
Adrian hesitated a moment, and then reached into his coat and pulled out two small slips of paper.
“I missed it entirely,” he said, “but Rosalind did not.” He unfurled the notes, revealing the two messages of warning they had received during the ordeal.
“She recognized your handwriting when rereading the faulty will,” he said.
Edmund paled, and stepped back. “If news of those came to light, my life would be worth little.”
“I hope, with Stanley and Drake behind bars, and Mrs. Vane having fled the country to avoid prosecution, that is not the case,” Adrian said coldly, “but I will burn them at the first opportunity nonetheless. What I wish to know, Crewe, is your purpose behind these notes. In the first you seem to be warning Rosalind about Drake’s intentions, and in the second you gave us foreknowledge, in part, of the abduction. Why?”
Edmund worked his jaw in frustration. “It all got away from me, you see. I never cared for Rosalind, or Thornefield, or my stepfather.” Bitterness laced his voice.
“They were always so pious and familial, where I had no family before them and wished for none. When my debts grew monumental, I happened upon Mrs. Vane and we realized the solution to both of our problems were in the same county—neighbors!”
He put a hand to his head, looking suddenly ill. “But then he got involved.”
“Drake?”
“Yes, and by extension Stanley. He seemed to want a hand in the scheme himself, to make sure it came off well. I was going to steal Thornefield—I admit it—but I never wanted any harm to come to anyone… and I knew Drake was dangerous.”
“You knew him in London.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I once saw him duel a fifteen-year-old boy…” Edmund trailed off, shaking his head at the memory. “It was not a duel, it was a murder in cold blood, and Drake made off with the boy’s sister afterwards. The family was ruined.”
Adrian watched in silence.
“When he demanded I introduce him to Rosalind, I hoped, at first, that it was only to keep watch over my dealings,” Edmund went on. “But he began speaking wildly of contingency plans if we should fail, and I just… I could not… I could not watch it happen.”
“Your notes may have saved Rosalind’s life,” Adrian said gravely.
“Because of you, we were on alert and quick to action. It is for that reason that I asked to meet with you today. The forged will you concocted is collapsed, transportation is as likely for you as it is for your compatriots, but Rosalind and I thought of another option.”
“And what is that?” Edmund asked, wary.
“Leave at once under Dr. Ashcombe’s care, take a new name and a post in the north, and never return.
He will settle you in your new position—he has a brother in the north who will write him regularly of your progress.
Should you turn back to your former ways, we will proceed to the law, but if you can keep your hands clean—”
“I can.” Edmund looked like a man whose life had been handed back to him. “I assure you, I can. If you will not turn me in.”
Adrian nodded soberly. “It is as much Rosalind’s idea as mine. She feels something for your plight, even if you did treat her cruelly.”
Edmund did not have words to respond, but Adrian was heartened by the spark of guilt in his dark eyes. A man who could feel guilt and remorse was a man who could be saved.
***
Rosalind
The banns were read and the village was elated. It was, as the innkeeper stated joyfully, more exciting for this little hamlet than the royal wedding. The two great houses of the area were to be united in marriage, and their estates joined.
The week of the wedding found Thornefield humming with preparations.
Rosalind watched as the banisters were transformed into rose bowers, the candlesticks and chandeliers dusted and prepared for lighting, the floors swept and polished, and the finest china set out in preparation for the wedding breakfast.
Mrs. Hollis seemed incapable of making it through a day without weeping, so pleased was she with the happy ending her charge had received at last, and Honoria, while professing to be dry-eyed, was secretly the same.
On more than one occasion, Rosalind saw her misty-eyed as she watched her older brother get ready for his wedding day.
On Wednesday morning, Rosalind dressed in a pale green gown with a smart jacket buckled across her chest and her hair in a low chignon at the base of her neck. She walked up to Marwood, where she met Adrian and joined him on the narrow path to the Marwood Dairy.
He opened the door, standing back to let her enter.
The wide room inside had been transformed from a dusty and abandoned chamber into a bright schoolroom.
The windows were cleaned and let in the sunshine from outside, the high beams were dusted and hung with bunting to celebrate the first day of school, and there were books everywhere.
One side of the room, under Rosalind’s direction, had tidy desks arranged for instruction. On the other, there was a wide table with scientific implements handy for exploration. The center of the room had soft chairs gathered around a fireplace for reading and conversation.
Rosalind’s smile, however, had nothing to do with the beautiful new learning environment.
She was looking at the room full of girls, wide-eyed and ready to learn, and the handful of mothers who had come for this first day of school.
One of the mothers stepped forwards, holding out an embroidered cloth with rudimentary flowers stitched into it.
“The girls worked together on it for you, Miss,” she said, curtsying low.
Rosalind felt tears prick her eyes as she looked at the handiwork. The thread and fine cloth would have taken a month’s savings for some of these women. “I am most grateful,” she murmured.
“No, Miss,” Emily said, stepping forward with bright eyes. “We are grateful to you, for all that you have taught us.”
Rosalind took a shaking breath, smiling through her tears. “And now we have a special place for our studies.”
“I have hope,” Adrian said, stepping forward with a smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes, “that one day we shall not need secrecy. The tenor of the village is turning, ever so slowly, in our favor. Until all is well, however, you shall have a safe place to learn and grow in your studies, ladies.”
Rosalind heard one of the girls—Annie, perhaps—giggle and whisper, “Did you hear that? He called you a ‘lady’, and you were milking cows just this morning!"
This brought more giggles from the girls, and Rosalind saw Adrian trying to hide a smile. “Come to me if you need anything,” he said, in closing.
Before he took his leave to allow the commencement of lessons, he paused and slipped a letter into Rosalind’s hand. “Read it later,” he said, his eyes holding hers a beat longer than was necessary.
She put it in the pocket of her coat and felt its comfortable weight throughout the day of lessons. When she travelled home that evening she paused in the garden to read it.
My dear Rosalind,
I am so looking forward to the day of our wedding. As much as I regret the trials you have endured these last months, I am grateful in part for their existence because they brought me into your life.
I wanted to write you something more than a love letter—I wanted to write a list of assurances, the sort that cannot be pronounced from the altar but rather exist only here, between two lovers.
I promise to care for you, and for those you love. I will provide stability for Harry and Mrs. Hollis, and all those in your care that you have protected and advocated for since you took over control of Thornefield. I will protect your school, and foster learning with your girls.
More than anything, I want you to know that you will never again have to carry your burdens alone. We will be one, soon—and then all your worries will be mine, just as all your joys shall be.
With a heart full of love,
Adrian
Rosalind folded the note, her eyes smarting with tears yet again. She was unsure how such a man had been living so close to her all her life, and she had not known. Gratefulness welling in her heart, she held the letter close, and looked to her wedding day.