Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“It was my mother’s,” he said, his voice roughening. “Our housekeeper smuggled it out before they seized everything. I’ve carried it for years, waiting for the right woman to give it to.”
Rose’s breath caught as he placed the necklace in her palm. The sapphire was deep as midnight, worn smooth with age. “Sebastian, it’s beautiful.”
“Turn around. Let us see how it looks on your beautiful neck.”
She shifted so her back faced him. His fingers were gentle as he fastened the clasp, then brushed the sensitive skin at her nape. The sapphire settled coolly against her collarbone, and she shivered at both the touch of the stone and his hands.
“Perfect.” He turned her to face him again. “I wish my parents could have met you.”
“I believe they’re here with us,” Rose said, touching the pendant. “Along with my mother and Lizzie. All of them would want us to be happy.”
Sebastian took her hands, his thumbs stroking across her knuckles. “I love you, my beautiful Rose.”
“And I love you.” She grinned. “I never thought it was possible to be this happy.”
The garden was quiet except for the whisper of wind through the roses and the distant call of birds preparing for evening.
Rose closed her eyes, memorizing this moment.
The weight of the sapphire at her throat, Sebastian’s hands warm around hers, the promise of their future stretching bright before them. Nothing could ever be sweeter.
If she had known during her darkest hours that they would lead to this joy, she might not have despaired so deeply. But perhaps those moments of desolation made one all the more grateful for the joyful ones.
*
Rose stood at the drawing room window, watching the carriage make its way up the drive.
She pressed her dampened palms together and drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves.
Sebastian’s siblings were arriving for the wedding, and she was eager to welcome them into the family.
But what if they were not as keen on the idea as she?
“I must confess to nerves.” She turned to Sebastian, who was adjusting his cravat near the fireplace.
“It will all be fine.” He came to stand beside her. “Sophia has been looking forward to this since James told her about you.”
Rose touched the sapphire at her throat. His mother’s necklace had become a treasured comfort. “I do hope we get along well.”
“You will,” Sebastian assured her. “She’s going to adore you.”
The sound of voices in the foyer made Rose’s heart quicken.
Mrs. Blythe appeared in the doorway moments later, beaming while simultaneously wiping her eyes with a hanky. “Mr. Ashford and Miss Ashford have arrived.”
Sebastian took Rose’s hand. “Send them in, please.”
James entered first, his familiar easy smile warming the room. Behind him came a blonde, petite, young woman with soft blue eyes.
“James, Sophia,” Sebastian said, embracing his brother warmly, then opening his arms to his sister. Sophia melted into the embrace, and Rose caught a glimpse of her face relaxing against Sebastian’s shoulder. When she pulled back, those blue eyes turned to Rose.
“Sophia, may I present Lady Rose,” Sebastian said.
Rose took a careful step forward. “I am pleased to meet you, Miss Ashford.”
Sophia’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m pleased to meet you too.” She offered a small curtsy, her hands clasped tightly together. “I’ve been looking forward to getting to know you. And please, call me Sophia. We are to be sisters, after all.”
“Only if you will call me Rose.”
“I certainly shall,” Sophia said.
James stepped forward, kissing Rose’s hand. “It is nice to see you again, Lady Rose.”
She exchanged a warm smile with James before gesturing toward the sitting area.
“Please, won’t you sit?” Rose asked. “I’ve asked Mrs. Blythe to bring tea.”
They settled around the hearth.
Rose drew in another deep breath, knowing this conversation could not be avoided.
She must just get on with it. Say the words.
Open the wounds. “Sophia, I must say how deeply sorry I am for the pain my father caused your family. I know the truth about what he did now and I’m deeply ashamed for his actions.
Your brother has told me about what you endured. ”
Sophia’s eyes filled with tears that she quickly blinked away, but when she spoke, her voice carried a gentle strength that surprised Rose. “You don’t need to apologize for your father’s actions. I imagine it must be excruciating for you—learning such terrible truths about someone you loved.”
The compassionate understanding in her voice made Rose’s chest ache. She’d expected anger, or at least coldness. Not this soft wisdom from someone who had every right to hate the Wentworth name.
“My whole life he lied to me,” Rose said. “He took my mother from me. And your father from you. It’s all too cruel to comprehend.”
“I don’t suppose we’ll ever truly understand why he did what he did,” James said gently.
Sophia nodded, her shoulders relaxing somewhat. “James told me you helped uncover the truth. That you chose to believe Sebastian even when it meant facing painful things about your father.”
“It was quite clear he was right about everything.”
“But it couldn’t have been easy.” Sophia looked directly at Rose, and there was something wise and knowing in her young face. “I believe you must be very courageous indeed.”
Rose felt a kindred spirit in Sophia. “I have not felt courageous. Mostly frightened. I should have had more faith that good would eventually triumph.”
Sophia smiled, shaking her head slightly.
“It is hard to have faith when everything is difficult. I must acknowledge it is strange, given everything that’s happened between our families, that we are to be sisters.
But as I told Sebastian in my letter, our best revenge against the evil done to us is to live fully and to love unabashedly.
” She paused, studying Rose. “You’re even lovelier than my brother described.
He said you possessed the perfect name to describe your beauty, and I have to agree. ”
Rose felt her cheeks warm with pleasure. “You’re very kind to say so. You are as exquisite as Sebastian said you were.”
“If Sebastian was willing to let go of his desire for revenge, then he must truly love you. It has been the only emotion driving him for twelve years. To think that it’s all ended with love is quite remarkable, is it not?
One might say a miracle, even.” Sophia leaned forward slightly, her earlier shyness transformed into earnest enthusiasm.
“Your home is absolutely magnificent.” Sophia glanced around the drawing room with what appeared to be genuine appreciation.
“Thank you. Now that I’ve inherited everything, your brother and I plan to make many changes.” Rose glanced at Sebastian with a smile. “It might take some time but we intend to bring respect back to the estate.”
Sophia’s eyes lit up. “My brother is immensely clever, so I believe you’ll be successful in no time at all. What will happen to the staff?”
“The staff will all stay, of course,” Rose said. “Most of them have been here for years. They’re family to me. The only family I’ve ever had.”
Sophia’s expression grew thoughtful. “Family is everything.”
Rose nodded, understanding passing between them. The shadow of her father’s crimes would always be part of their history, but it need not define their future. Together, they could build something beautiful from the ashes of the past.
*
The eve of her wedding had arrived, and Rose sat in her childhood bedchamber, brushing her hair in the lamplight. Tomorrow she would marry Sebastian, and surprisingly, she felt calm. When one was marrying one’s soulmate, there was little to fear.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Come in,” she called.
Mrs. Blythe entered, followed by Prudence, who was practically vibrating with excitement. The housekeeper carried something wrapped in tissue paper, handling it as carefully as spun glass.
“We have something for you, Lady Rose,” Mrs. Blythe said, her voice unusually thick.
Rose set down her brush, curiosity piqued. “How kind. I can hardly wait to see what it is.”
Mrs. Blythe placed the bundle on the bed and stepped back. Prudence bounced on her toes, hands clasped behind her back like a child with a secret.
Rose carefully unwrapped the tissue to reveal a wedding veil, delicate and trimmed with lace. Her breath caught. “It’s beautiful. Did you make this?”
“I did the sewing,” Prudence said, then bit her lip. “But the fabric… well, you might recognize it.”
Rose lifted the veil, and something about the fabric’s weight and texture made her heart skip.
“Is it from Sebastian’s handkerchiefs? This is what you wanted them for?
” Prudence had asked for them a week or so ago.
Rose had not thought much of it, figuring she was merely going to wash them for her. “How clever you are.”
“I thought it would be a reminder of how hard you fought for love.” Prudence grinned and bounced once again on her toes, making her seem very young for a moment.
“At the time, I knew I shouldn’t keep them, but they were all I thought I’d ever have of him.” Rose brushed her thumb against the lace.
“Dear Lady Rose,” Mrs. Blythe said, her eyes growing bright. “There’s nothing wrong with holding onto love, even when it seems impossible.”
“My tears are still in these fibers. All those nights I cried into them.”
Mrs. Blythe chuckled. “Actually, we washed them thoroughly. But the sentiment remains.”
Rose laughed through the tears gathering in her eyes. “Then we’ll think of it symbolically.” She examined the intricate lacework along the edges. “The lace is extraordinary. Where did it come from?”
Mrs. Blythe’s expression grew tender. “That came from your mother, in a way. She saved it for you when you were just a baby.”
“She did?” Rose asked.
“It’s from your grandmother’s wedding gown—your mother’s mother. She kept it all these years, waiting for your wedding day.” Mrs. Blythe smoothed a finger along the delicate pattern. “She gave it to me for safekeeping, with strict instructions that it was for you and you alone.”
Rose sank onto the bed, overwhelmed. “Why didn’t Mummy use it for her own wedding?”
Mrs. Blythe’s mouth tightened. “Your father’s mother had other ideas about what Lady Eleanor should wear. That horrible woman insisted on choosing the veil herself.”
“Probably for the best,” Rose said quietly. “It would have been tainted, wearing it to marry him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Mrs. Blythe said with a sniff.
Rose held the veil up to the lamplight, watching the lace cast intricate shadows on the wall. The handkerchiefs that had comforted her through her darkest hours, now transformed and adorned with lace her mother had lovingly preserved. It was almost too much to bear.
Rose reached for Prudence’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I’ve never seen anything more perfect.” Her voice broke. “That you would take something so precious to me and make it even more beautiful. I can’t find the words.”
“You don’t need words.” Mrs. Blythe dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “Your face says everything.”
Prudence tented her hands under her chin, beaming. “It does.”
Mrs. Blythe dabbed at her eyes. “Now then, we should get you to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a very long, very wonderful day.”
Rose carefully placed the veil on a chair. Tomorrow she would marry Sebastian wearing the cloth that had absorbed her tears and the lace her mother had saved with such hope. Nothing could be better.
Rose turned to Mrs. Blythe and Prudence as they made for the door.
“Mrs. Blythe, do you think Mother would be happy? About Sebastian and me?”
Mrs. Blythe’s smile was radiant. “I know she would be absolutely delighted. She once told me she hoped for a great love match for her daughter.”
“I wish she was here,” Rose said.
“She is,” Mrs. Blythe said.
After they left, Rose sat in the quiet of her room, fingertips touching the sapphire at her throat. Tomorrow she would wear Sebastian’s mother’s necklace and her own mother’s lace, carrying both families’ blessings into their new life together.
The pieces of her broken past had somehow arranged themselves into something beautiful.
To think how she’d despaired, believing she was doomed to a loveless marriage with a monster.
Instead, she was to have her happy ending.
From here on out, she would choose to believe that good would triumph over evil, even when the world seemed to challenge the idea at every turn.
She promised herself then and there that the home and family she shared with Sebastian would always be one filled with love and compassion.
If so, perhaps Lizzie, her mother and Sebastian’s father would not have died totally in vain. Not when their legacy was one of love.