Julie Garwood - For the Roses

"My locket," she cried out. "It's disappeared."

"We'll find it. I'll help you look. Just let me get my second wind." He let out a loud yawn after giving her his promise.

"What if it was thrown away?"

He closed his eyes and began to rub his brow. "I'm sure it wasn't. Come and kiss me."

She couldn't believe his cavalier attitude. "You know how important my mama's locket is to me. I think they took it. I'll never forgive them if they did. Never."

His wife was shouting. Harrison straightened in his chair, braced his elbows on his knees, and frowned at her. He was determined not to let his weariness make him impatient.

"After a good night's sleep…"

"We have to find my locket before we go to bed."

He decided to try to put it all in perspective for her. The locket was important to her, yes, but they would eventually find it.

"Will you calm down? No one took your locket. You've simply misplaced it. That's all there is to it."

"How would you know if they took it or not? You're never here long enough to know anything that goes on."

"I've been busy," he shouted out. "I was trying to tell you…" He stopped before he went into an explanation about MacPherson. Now wasn't the time. She was too distraught to hear a word he said.

He let out an expletive then. "You could be a little more understanding," he said.

She staggered to her feet. She was so furious, her hands were in fists at her sides. The dam inside her burst, for it was suddenly all too much for her to endure. All those months of trying to be someone she wasn't was finally taking its toll.

"Understanding? You expect me to be understanding about their sneakery? My father takes my letters before I can mail them, and I'm supposed to be understanding? How long do you want me to be patient, Harrison? Forever? When you aren't working day and night finishing whatever in God's name you're determined to finish, you're running around looking for evidence to convict MacPherson. You've been scratching the wrong itch for months now. Oh, shame on me. I've used another expression my relatives find distasteful."

"What are you talking about? What's distasteful?"

She didn't answer him. He wouldn't understand. No one did. She turned her back on her husband and stared out into the night.

"They all love you," he assured her in a calmer tone of voice.

She whirled around again. "No, they don't. They love the woman they're all creating. Do you know what Aunt Barbara told me? I'm supposed to think of myself as a blank canvas and let them create their masterpiece. They don't love me. How could they? They don't even know me. They love the idea of having Victoria back, and now everyone's trying to pretend I've lived here all my life. What about you, Harrison? Do you love me or their masterpiece?"

The implication behind her question sent him to his feet. If she wanted to argue, then by God he would accommodate her.

"I love you," he roared.

The argument didn't end there; it escalated. She was distraught and terrified by what was happening to her, and he was simply too exhausted to reason anything out. The combination was explosive.

What the hell had she meant about a canvas, for God's sake? She started shouting again when he demanded she explain. They said some unkind things to each other, though nothing that couldn't be forgiven, and when Mary Rose realized she was going to start weeping again, she pointed to the door and ordered him to leave.

He did just that. Then she got into bed and cried herself to sleep. She was awakened by her husband's fervent apology.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," he told her over and over again.

She believed she could forgive him anything. She loved him and would do anything to protect him and their marriage.

They made love, each desperately needing comfort from the other, and when he was just drifting off to sleep, he heard her whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too, Victoria."

Dear God, he'd called her Victoria.

She went home two days later.

August 14, 1874

Dear Mama Rose,

I have to spend the rest of the afternoon in my bedroom as punishment because I didn't act like a lady today. I punched Tommy Bonnersmith in the nose and made him bleed. He had it coming, Mama. Cole had taken me into Blue Belle, and I'd just walked outside the general store when Tommy grabbed hold of me and planted his mushy lips on top of mine.

I didn't tell Cole what Tommy had done to me. He came outside and spotted Tommy sitting on the ground holding his nose and crying like a baby. My brother would have shot Tommy if he knew what happened and I don't want him shooting anyone else. He's getting a bad reputation.

I'm not at all contrite about my behavior. Adam and Cole are always telling me I shouldn't ever let any man take liberties with me. Tommy was doing just that, wasn't he?

Are you disappointed in me?

Your loving daughter Mary Rose

Harrison returned to Lord Elliott's house just as the ship Mary Rose was on sailed for America. He didn't know she'd left, of course. No one did.

He walked into the conservatory, where Elliott sat with his assistant going over transactions.

"Where's my wife?"

Elliott looked up at Harrison and smiled. "She went shopping with her lady's maid," he answered.

"Will you excuse us, MacPherson?" Harrison asked. He clasped his hands behind his back and forced himself to look composed. He wanted to grab MacPherson by the neck and send him hurling into hell for what he'd done, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to give in to the impulse.

"Why don't you go and order some tea for us while I talk to my son-in-law?"

MacPherson bowed to his employer and left the room. Harrison pulled the doors closed behind him.

"I doubt anyone will hear us talking, Harrison. Everyone's gone out for the day, and the staff is busy packing. Something's wrong, isn't it? You've got that look in your eyes."

"We have company, sir. The authorities are waiting in the hall to arrest MacPherson. God willing, they'll get him to confess everything. There's enough evidence though to convict him of embezzlement, and one way or another, the son of a bitch is going to be locked away. He's the one who planned the kidnapping."

Elliott dropped the papers he'd been holding in his hand. His mind raced to keep up with the information Harrison had given him.

He couldn't seem to take it all in. "George… George took my Victoria from me? No, no, he couldn't have. He was fully investigated, and no one found a thread of evidence to connect him to my daughter's disappearance. Now you're suggesting…"

" Douglas saw him get out of the carriage and hand the basket to a woman."

" Douglas? Who is he?"

Harrison was taken aback by the question. Dear God, Elliott didn't even know the names of her brothers.

"One of the men who raised her," he answered. " Douglas is one of her brothers in every damned way that counts. You'd better come to terms with that reality before it's too late."

Elliott was so stunned by what Harrison had told him about MacPherson, he couldn't think about anything else. He didn't even notice how angry his son-in-law was becoming.

"There was embezzlement?"

"You've been making donations to an orphanage that doesn't exist. The place did exist at the time Victoria was taken, of course, but it closed a couple of years later. I doubt any of your money ever got past MacPherson's pockets."

"But embezzlement and kidnapping are two different…"

"MacPherson was behind it, sir. There isn't any doubt."

Elliott doubled over in pain. He was so sickened by the truth, he thought he was going to throw up. He desperately tried to compose himself.

"Give me a minute, son, just a minute," he whispered.

Harrison sat down beside him and put his hand on Elliott's shoulder. He didn't say a word, but patiently waited for the man to sort it all out in his mind.

It only took Elliott a short while to calm down enough to want to know everything.

"Start at the beginning and don't stop until you've told me everything."

"We know MacPherson took a large sum of money from one of your accounts the day before your daughter was kidnapped. He took Victoria late the following night, and delivered her to the nursemaid. I suppose the money he'd stolen was for the woman to use to support herself and the baby while he milked as much ransom out of you as he could. The papers he'd taken from the Bible were probably going to be sent back to you as proof he had your daughter."

"But what happened? We never received a ransom demand… just that first note…"

"It all went sour on MacPherson," Harrison said. "That's what happened, sir. Douglas told me the woman didn't want to take the basket. He saw her shake her head at MacPherson, but her mind was changed when he produced the envelope full of money and waved it front of her eyes."

"And then?"

"The nursemaid got cold feet, and after MacPherson left, she found the nearest alley and threw Victoria into a pile of garbage. Then she ran away."

"Can you prove all of this, Harrison?"

"I can prove he embezzled, sir. It's enough to put him away for the rest of his life. Douglas insists he'd recognize MacPherson today. I'm not so sure myself, but I think your assistant will be convinced by the authorities to talk."

"If the nursemaid hadn't had second thoughts, would I have gotten my daughter back? No… no, of course I wouldn't have. He would have killed her, wouldn't he?"

"Probably," Harrison agreed.

Elliott began to shake with fury. "All these past years that monster has been sitting by my side, calmly acting as though…"

He couldn't go on. Harrison nodded with understanding. "Sir, it was damned clever of him. He must have been in a real panic when the nursemaid and the baby disappeared. He didn't bolt though. He stayed right where he was. How better to control the investigation than to be in the center of it? As long as he continued to work for you, he could see whatever came across your desk before you did."

Elliott suddenly bounded to his feet and rushed toward the door. "I'm going in there and I'm going to…"

Harrison stopped him by grabbing hold of his arm. "No, you aren't going anywhere. They've already taken him away. I know what you want to do, and it's all right to think it, but you can't kill him."

He gently led Elliott back to the settee and helped him sit down. He didn't leave his side for a long, long while, until he was convinced Elliott was under control and wouldn't do anything he would regret.

Harrison had wanted to talk to him about his own plans for the future, but he realized now wasn't the time to burden the man with anything more. He would have to wait until later to tender his resignation.

He went up to the bedroom so he could spend some time alone to think about exactly what he wanted to say to his wife. The words had to be right, and if he needed to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness for all the pain he had inadvertently caused her, then he would do just that.

Elliott didn't know the names of her brothers. The realization still staggered him. In the name of love and fatherhood, he had deliberately tried to erase her past and mold her into the daughter he wanted. What must Mary Rose be feeling now, and how had she endured all of their insufferable righteousness?

Her note was waiting for him on top of the desk. A feeling of dread came over him the minute he saw it, and he was almost afraid to touch it.

He read her farewell three times before he reacted. And then anguish such as he had never known before welled up inside him until it consumed him. He bowed his head and gave in to the pain, welcomed it because he had no one to blame but himself, and now it was too late.

He had lost her.

Harrison didn't have any idea how long he stood there holding the note, but the room was cast in shadows when he finally moved. Edward was pounding on the door and shouting the request to please come downstairs. Lord Elliott needed him.

He almost didn't answer the summons, and then he realized he had quite a lot to say to his father-in-law. He no longer gave a damn if the man understood. Harrison still needed to talk to him about his daughter.