Page 66 of An English Rose for the Highlander
“Rose,” her father added, “are you quite well? There was so much smoke and violence. Have you been affected?”
Throwing her mother’s hands off her, Rose began pacing back and forth through the room furiously.
“Affected? Of course, I am affected by the sight of innocent people being harmed because of a man thatIbrought to this keep!”
“Nonsense! I see that you wish to blame yourself for that, but Lord Egerton was his own man. He made his own decisions.” Horatia scoffed. “No doubt this blame is the result of that Scottish brute putting ideas in your head.”
Rose stopped dead in her tracks, turning back to look at her mother. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if the woman was serious. She couldn’t possibly be calling the man who fought to defend her a brute. But the look of her usual, practiced haughtiness was plain on her face. Stomping toward her, Rose jabbed a finger in the air at Horatia, fury at its peak.
“Don’t you dare speak about him that way. That ‘brute’ protected this castle—and your daughter—with his very life. He said nothing to me about this being a result of my own actions; that’s a truth I’ve been wise enough to discover for myself.” Horatia looked as if she were going to speak, but Rose stamped her foot, the heel cracking loudly against the floor. “I will not allow you to speak so disrespectfully about my husband.”
“I…” Her mother’s voice faltered. “I have never seen you so worked up. I only meant that you have taken on such a terrible burden. You have clearly done so much while you are here. Rose, you’ve practically worked yourself to the bone, and I have never seen?—”
“You have never seen it, Mother, because I did not show it to you. All I have done is to ensure your well-being, and both of you have been children to your own daughter for years. I have always ‘been like this.’ I simply knew that neither of you would handle it. I protected you. Day in and day out. And it was only Lord Egerton who had slithered his way through that protection, and he managed to upend my entire lifetwicebefore his demise.”
Baldwin and Horatia were both clearly astounded by what their daughter said, reeling backward with their mouths hanging open. Pain burned through Rose’s chest as she looked at them, hearing the word “brute” echo in her mind.
“Dominik is one of the most honest, loyal men I’ve ever met. No, in fact, he is the only one I can genuinely say holds both those titles in his heart each day. He is anincredibleLaird and protector of this keep, and he saved my life from the Viscount, who not only sought to destroy us with his dowry scheme but also to kill me when his greed was not served. I would doanythingto keep Dominik from suffering the wrath of the Crown when what he did was noble and necessary.”
The last of Rose’s words echoed in the room, and she stood in silence before her parents while they were forced to grapple with reality for the first time. It dragged on, the moments of quiet long. But Rose would not be the one to end the tension. It was time for her to no longer protect her parents from the harshness of the world.
They needed to face it and be stronger for it, as she had her entire life.
“Rose,” her mother started, “I had no idea. Neither of us did.” She looked back at Baldwin, who was still incensed, his face peaked and green along the edges. “But we should have. We—Iam so terribly sorry for that. We are not completely in the dark, and both of us know how much you have done for our family. But…Oh, my dearest, we did not say it enough how proud we are of you, and how grateful that you are our daughter.”
Emotions crested to the surface, and Rose had trouble believing what she was hearing. So much had changed in her since she had arrived at the keep and been forced to deal with all the challenges and unfamiliar customs of her new home. Still, this moment nearly made them all worth it.
Seeing her parents honestly express their understanding, seeing them realize just how much this affected her, was something Rose thought she would never get to enjoy.
“Furthermore,” her mother stepped forward, meeting Rose where she stood and cupping her face with both hands, “we had no idea of your affection for your husband. It was wrong of me to speak so poorly about him, regardless, but especially so when it is obvious that you care for him.”
“I—Mother, that is not?—”
“Your father and I genuinely believed that bringing you back to England was what was best for you. But if you feel so deeply for your husband, that might very well not be the case. Youcanstay, dearest.”
It was all too much, and Rose felt the composure she’d struggled to maintain, only letting out her anger, finally crumbling. The sorrow and longing broke free, nearly drowning her with the fathoms of pain they inflicted on her.
“It is too late, Mother. As much as I appreciate you saying that it doesn’t change the truth. The Crown will issue a verdict, and I must go to England to protect my husband as best I can if they decide action is required. For as long as he is my husband to protect.”
“What do you mean by that?” Baldwin spoke now, still ghostly white from the effect of his intense emotions, likely the first overwhelm he’d ever felt.
“Dominik is free to decide what he wishes to do about our arrangement. I know that he…he must put his clan first, and there were many here who did not approve of our marriage. I will leave it to him to decide how we shall proceed.”
“Rose, darling—” But she held a finger to her mother’s mouth, so she did not continue, shaking her head.
“No, that is the way of it.”
And so, it was. They would have this short time to rest, and that evening, Rose would endure the last meal she would ever have with her husband.
32
Rose had been to a number of soirees, events, dances, and now even aceilidh, and each one had been as uproarious and entertaining as one might expect. As she entered the Great Hall with Peggy right behind her, her parents flanking her sides, Rose saw that the space was as gloriously stocked with food as on the day she first arrived.
But the air was somber and quiet.
This was not a celebration after all, but the parting ways of people who might have had the chance to enjoy lives together. This was much more akin to a funeral—the death that of the life she loved here in the keep.
“Come and sit, lass,” Eilidh spoke softly, ushering her toward the long table at the far end of the room. Dominik was not present, his seat empty, and Rose’s chest constricted, a painful lump forming in her throat.
