Scandal And The Duchess

Rose took it, her breath quickening, and read.

My dearest Rose,

If you are holding this paper, I have gone from the world. I have made my peace with it, and my only regret is leaving you alone to face what you must. I have tried to provide the best I could for you, but I unfortunately know that a great lot of money, especially when it is tied to land and a lofty title, brings out the worst in people. My family has had a long history of fighting each other for the smallest scrap, and I fear this will happen again with my son. To that end, I have fixed upon with a way to provide for you independently, and hopefully make you smile in the process. I stumbled across the lovely cottage, which its owner charmingly called “Rose Cottage,” but he had no idea what to do with. It had been in his family for ages, and he, a city man through and through, was a bit embarrassed by it. It was free and clear of any entail, and I offered to purchase it from him, with the sole purpose of giving it to you. The deed to the property is enclosed here, and you are to use the house or do with it whatever you see fit. A copy of this deed has been filed with a solicitor of my choosing in case there is any doubt. I know that any will I make that names you will be contested, for which I apologize, my Rose. But as you know how much I love my little games, I made one for you that you’d easily solve. I knew you admired the Bullock cabinet, which is worth much, and we made such a joke about the Egyptian settee that I knew you’d find that too. Rose Cottage is yours, as is everything in it. As a private purchase it has nothing to do with my estate, and so I can bestow it on whomever I wish.

I have always loved you, my Rose. I can only hope that you find as much happiness in your life as you brought to me at the end of mine.

I remain, ever your devoted,

Charles

The last words blurred. Steven gently tugged the paper from her fingers and pressed his lips to her wet cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. “For losing so much.”

Rose swallowed on her tight throat. “Much of it found again,” she said softly.

The property deed, which made up the rest of the papers, was quite detailed, and long. Mr. Collins reached around Steven and plucked it out of his hands.

“It seems in order,” he said after he’d skimmed through. “But I’ll go over it carefully back at my offices. The minister who can say that the parish record listing Her Grace as previously married was forged has arrived as well, so that mess will be cleared up at once.”

“Good,” Steven said. “Then there will be nothing to prevent Rose from marrying me this evening.”

“Only the rain slowing us up,” Cameron rumbled. “Come on, Collins, McBride. Let’s find a license and put Steven out of his misery.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Ainsley said. She hurried to the door as a footman came through it bearing a tray of glasses, followed by the hotel’s croupier with champagne. “Let us at least wish them well. I don’t think Rose is about to change her mind.”

“No, indeed,” Rose said. She held Steven’s hand again, borrowing his strength, blessing him for righting her world.

“To the happy couple,” Ainsley said after they’d all received full glasses.

“Aye,” Steven agreed quietly. He clinked his glass to Rose’s. “Thank you, Rosie.”

“My pleasure.” Rose sipped her champagne, but the enormity of the change in her life swept upon her all at once, and her knees buckled.

Steven caught her in alarm. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Rose hastily set down her glass and contented herself with holding on to Steven instead. “I beg your pardon—it’s rather overwhelming. I’ve been a long time alone, you see. Never had much family.”

“That’s all right, love,” Steven said. He gestured expansively to the others in the room. “Welcome to mine.”

Suddenly, Rose’s shaking evaporated. She saw her life before her, not narrow and barren, lined with people who condemned her, but one full of promise, in the company of those who held together against the world.

Steven’s kiss on her lips held more promise still, of a slightly more sinful kind. Rose pulled him close, and surrendered.

Epilogue

Steven lay beside Rose in the comfortable bed of their hotel suite the next afternoon, having made her Mrs. Captain Steven McBride a few hours ago.

He’d agreed to delay at Ainsley’s insistence, she backed by his four sisters-in-law, that poor Rose should at least have a decent dress to be married in. Steven gave in to the barrage of ladies, to his brothers’ and brothers-in-law’s amusement.

Somehow the women had managed to come up with a gown for Rose to wear when she and Steven wed at the bishop’s house the next morning. They’d chosen a light blue, which brought out the flush in Rose’s cheeks, the gold of her hair, and the aquamarine flecks in her green eyes. The fine cloth of the gown hugged her body perfectly, and Steven didn’t waste time wondering how they’d cobbled together something so quickly. She was beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

Rose repeated her vows without hesitation, though Steven couldn’t remember what the devil had come out of his own mouth. But soon the ring, which he’d borrowed from Ainsley until he could buy another, was on Rose’s finger. She was pronounced by the bishop—witnessed by his family and solicitor—to be Steven’s wife.

The journalists loved it, of course. This time, when Steven found them all waiting outside the hotel upon their return, he stopped and asked for their congratulations. Steven, with Rose smiling next to him, revealed that he’d fallen so hard for his perfect Scottish Rose that he’d begged her to marry him, and she’d done him the honor of accepting.