Romancing His English Rose (Entangled Scandalous) (7 page)

“Presumably to keep any eligible bachelors from leaving the room prematurely,” William drawled knowingly, winking at his betrothed.

Rose grinned. She was really beginning to like Lord Pembroke. He was the perfect match for Hannah, with his dry wit and levelheaded demeanor.

“Our mothers are nothing if not tenacious,” Hannah agreed, nudging William as if they shared a private joke.

“Amen,” David and Alexander replied and everyone in the room laughed at the gentlemen’s equally beleaguered tones.

Glad of the much needed amusement, Rose continued. “As I was saying…the mothers were by the door and we young ladies”—Rose glanced fondly at her girlfriends—“were seated in the corner chatting—”

“—and watching the young gentlemen,” Emily drawled, in much the same fashion as Lord Pembroke had moments earlier.

Rose acknowledged the truth of that statement with a slight blush and a stutter. “Yes, ah, yes…and the fathers were standing around the fireplace smoking. And finally the young gentlemen were gathered in the opposite corner from the ladies doing whatever it is young gentlemen, ah, do,” Rose finished uncertainly.

“Likely we were all pretending not to watch the young ladies,” Simon said in truth. David, Alexander, and William nodded with small guilty smiles on their faces.

The ladies all rolled their eyes at that and looked at one another with an utter lack of surprise.

“And then what happened?” Hannah asked, bringing them back on topic.

“Well, about an hour into drinks, Caleb and Frederick began to have a heated argument. All of you men were there. Do you remember what it was about?”

“It was about Collicott needing to make something of his life. Frederick was always worried about his brother, if you can believe it. Worried that he had no ambition or drive. As a younger son, he needed to decide how he wanted to spend his life, since it was unlikely he would inherit,” William said with some irony.

“That’s right,” Simon agreed. “Caleb used to complain about how Frederick was pushing him to make a decision between the clergy or the military. I know Frederick was only trying to make sure Caleb was taken care of, but really…Caleb in the clergy or military? I just can’t see it.”

Rose knew that younger sons of the aristocracy really didn’t have a lot of recourses for their livelihood. They didn’t have family estates to run, unless given a lesser one to manage by their father or, in this case, brother, and it wasn’t socially acceptable for them to join a trade. That left the clergy, military, or most preferably an advantageous marriage.

“Why wasn’t Frederick pushing Caleb to marry?” Rose asked, not understanding the logic.

“Ahhh…Frederick and my uncle were not…convinced that, er…” Simon started uncomfortably, “that Caleb was interested in women.”

Simon’s statement was met with a stunned silence.

“I see,” Rose said quietly. Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have seen quite so readily, but as it happened her uncle was of a similar bent.

Her uncle was much younger than her father—not much older than herself, actually—and when Rose was old enough to begin asking questions about her uncle’s, er, differences, her grandmother had a “talk” with her.

Rose’s grandmother was a remarkable woman and her acceptance of her younger son was a mark of true unconditional love. And because his condition was explained to Rose through that love, she was able to look upon her uncle and men like him with an open mind, though—she was the first to admit—not with a complete understanding of their inclinations.

However, knowing that Caleb had recently tried to coerce Hannah into marrying him, Rose thought that perhaps Frederick and his father were incorrect in their assumption; though, it was not inconceivable that Caleb was trying to convince himself, and others, of his interest in women by forcing the issue. Appearances were of vital importance to Caleb, by all accounts, and regardless of preferences to the contrary, gentlemen married ladies.

“I can see how that could be a sensitive and volatile topic,” Rose allowed. “And perhaps that is why Alexander felt the need to break the tension by suggesting drinks all around.”

At this point everyone finally understood how Alexander’s comment earlier had prompted this revelation of Rose’s. They all sat on the edge of their seats and waited for her to continue.

“I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but the moment Alexander mentioned getting new drinks, Caleb suddenly relaxed and actually smiled serenely. Then he offered to get the drinks himself.”

There was a collective gasp in the room as the implication set in.

“So he was afforded the perfect opportunity to poison Frederick’s drink,” Emily said in a hushed tone.

Alexander looked sick. “It’s because of me, then.” He looked up and said, “If I hadn’t suggested that we should all get new drinks—”

“No! Alexander, you cannot think like that,” Emily cut in, to everyone’s surprise. “It is clear Caleb had been planning this all along. He would have found some way to poison Frederick whether you had said anything or not.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, but Alexander still looked miserable and it wasn’t until William got up and walked over to speak softly to his brother that Alexander relaxed somewhat and finally gave a weak smile. William clapped him affectionately on the shoulder before moving back to his seat next to Hannah. Hannah hugged William’s arm, love shining clearly in her eyes.

“Rose,” Simon said, turning the attention back to her, “were you able to see if Caleb poisoned Frederick’s drink while he was at the beverage cart?”

Rose shook her head. “I saw him go to the cart and I remember he kept one glass slightly separate from the rest. He very deliberately handed that glass to Frederick. I also recall that Caleb could barely remove his eyes from his brother the entire time Frederick was drinking his brandy. It is all so suspicious now; I cannot believe I did not realize his intent that night!”

“Do you remember anything at all about how he mixed the drinks?” David asked.

“His back was to me,” Rose said resignedly. “Aside from seeing a shaking movement that must have been when he was emptying whatever container he had into the drink, I didn’t see anything. Not even him putting whatever it was back in a pocket or anything.”

Rose had been wracking her brain for the past half hour and could come up with nothing, but at the same time she couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she was missing something. Something of vital importance.

“Perhaps he dropped it into a nearby vase or planter? He knew he could retrieve it later. Who would be looking for such a thing while Frederick was so ill?” Alexander surmised.

“I suppose we could try and look for some clue around where the drink cart was in the room,” Simon suggested.

“It sounds like our only recourse,” Rose agreed, but it was clear she was not holding out hope that they would find something. “Thank you all for coming tonight anyway. I am sorry that the evening did not end on the high note I had hoped.”

Everyone murmured their understanding and thanks for the dinner, but they were leaving with a lot on their minds and absolutely no expectation of success for their efforts of the night.

On her ride home, Rose wondered at herself for the wealth of optimism she had felt at the beginning of the party. When all was said and done, nothing she and Simon had done that evening had brought them any closer to proving Caleb a murderer than before. All she had done was further their own beliefs that Frederick was poisoned and then offer no possible recourse for the knowledge.

With a long sigh, Rose finally had to admit to herself that her first real mission with Lady Lancaster’s Garden Society was a failure. A complete and utter failure.

Chapter Nine

A friend is one who knows all about you and still loves you.

—The Duke of Lancaster

The next morning, Sarah stopped by to see if Rose wanted to go shopping. Rose suspected the invitation was an attempt to cheer her up. Sarah could always be counted on to be there, regardless of the situation. She could also be counted on for an honest—sometimes too honest—assessment of the problems at hand.

“Yes, it was a waste of time, Rose,” Sarah was saying, as the two ladies made their way down the streets of the shopping district, “but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea. Your memory is phenomenal, but even you can’t see and hear everything!”

“I suppose,” Rose replied, “but I wish I could figure out what was still bothering me about that night.”

“Well, the fact that Lord Shrewsbury died is a little bothersome,” Sarah said bluntly.

Rose rolled her eyes. “That is not what I meant and you know it!”

Sarah had the grace to look sheepish. “I rather suspected that, yes.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Why do I say anything I say?” Sarah replied with a shrug. “It just…comes out.”

Rose giggled at that, because she had very little doubt it was true. “Thank you, Sarah.” Rose sighed gratefully. She felt as if she hadn’t smiled in days.

“Thank you for what?”

“For making me laugh. I really needed that.”

“You’re wel— Oh, Rose, look!” Sarah exclaimed suddenly. “Aren’t those earbobs lovely?”

Rose was still grinning as she turned to look at the jewels Sarah had found. She followed Sarah’s finger to the emerald earbobs, which would, quite frankly, look splendid with her red hair.

“Yes, those are love—” Rose broke off mid-sentence and just stared at the window.

“Rose?” Sarah said. “Are you all right?”

Rose turned slowly and said, “The ring.”

Sarah looked in the window again and Rose pointed. Just to the right of the earbobs was a large ornate ring. It appeared to be the kind that opened to reveal a tiny area to hold a small trinket or whatnot inside.

“Yes, I see it,” Sarah said. “You are talking about the really ugly one next to the earbobs, correct?”

Rose just gave her a look.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean ugly as in not attractive, I…uh…oh dear,” Sarah finished lamely.

“As it happens, I was not pointing out the ring because I liked it, but rather because it reminded me of something. Something very important.”

Sarah sagged in apparent relief. “I knew it wasn’t your style!” she said. “Wait…what do you mean by very important?”

“I mean we need to go home—now!” Rose said as she grabbed Sarah’s arm and began pulling her back in the direction from which they came.

“But we haven’t finished our shop—” Sarah began, tripping clumsily after her friend.

Rose stopped suddenly, causing Sarah to crash into her with a shriek, thereby ending her sentence quite succinctly. Once they had both righted themselves, Rose said ominously, “Sarah, I think I have just discovered the clue to Caleb Collicott’s undoing. Don’t you think that is a bit more important than buying a couple of new ribbons?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Good, now come along.”

Rose once again turned them toward home. If they hurried, they could reach their neighborhood in Mayfair within the hour. Rose hoped it would still be early enough in the day to get a note off to Simon so that they could meet immediately.

There really was no time to waste.

…

For the second time in a week, Simon found himself standing on the Warren household steps responding to a summons from Rose.

Truthfully, he was glad to have an excuse to see her. He was a little worried about her after last night.

Again it was as if she were waiting for him, for when the door swung open, there she was. And to his surprise, his heart fairly leapt at the sight of her. However, not surprisingly, Simon was hardly given the chance to greet her properly before he was pulled into the library, with the door shut and all.

Not again, Simon groaned to himself. He crossed his arms, raised his brow, and said, “And what have you presumed for us to do today, pray tell?”

“Oh, Simon, I think I have figured it out!” Rose gushed, running to him and throwing her arms around him happily. The hug was followed by an enthusiastic, if not particularly experienced, kiss on the lips.

Well, now, this is new, Simon thought, as he quite willingly returned the embrace and the kiss. He wasn’t exactly sure what Rose had figured out, but at the moment, he didn’t particularly care.

Once Simon had completed his leisurely exploration of Rose’s supple lips, he gently set her back on her heels and smiled at the pretty picture she presented to him. Her eyes were closed behind her slightly askew spectacles, her lips were plump and rosy from their kiss, and her cheeks were flushed the most becoming shade of pink. All in all, his Rose looked positively delectable.

Rose slowly opened her eyes to see Simon smiling down at her and her already pink cheeks darkened further. “Hello,” she whispered.

“Hello, my sweet,” Simon whispered back, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“Thank you for coming over so quickly.”

“If this is how you will greet me, I promise you that I will fly over here at every available opportunity.” Simon grinned devilishly and Rose blushed even more, if such a thing were possible, and swatted at him.

“I was just excited,” Rose said by way of explanation.

“As was I,” Simon readily agreed.

Rose giggled. “No, what I meant was I discovered something of importance today and I was eager to see— I mean, ah, tell you. Oh dear…”

Simon thought Rose was the cutest thing he had ever seen. Clearly her enthusiastic greeting had flustered her. Of course, his teasing probably hadn’t helped any, but really, how could he not revel in their newfound camaraderie just a little bit? It was such a surprising thing, really.

“Rose,” Simon began, reaching up to remove her hands from her face, “why don’t you tell me what is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Rose looked up and smiled. “Yes, that is an excellent idea.” Taking Simon’s hand in her own, she led him to the window seat and they sat down.

Tucking her legs up under her, Rose began to speak animatedly. “Well, Sarah and I were out shopping today and we happened to stop in front of a jewelry store…”

Simon went very still. Surely Rose wasn’t going to tell him about an engagement ring or something. Yes, he was no longer completely dreading marriage, but he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to take such an official step.

“…and I saw an ornate ring in the window…”

Oh, hell, Simon swore to himself. How was he going to handle this? His mind began racing through all the possible scenarios, none of which ended well.

“…and that’s when it hit me.”

At which point Simon began mentally banging his head against the nearest imaginary wall.

“Caleb was wearing a similar ring the night of the party!”

Caleb? He stopped his mental abuse for a moment because clearly he had just missed something very important.

“Did you hear me, Simon? Caleb was wearing a poison ring the night of the dinner party!”

“A…poison ring?” Simon said slowly, his brain still trying to make the leap from Rose to Caleb.

“Yes, one of those rings that flips open to reveal a small compartment inside. Historically they were used to carry perfume, locks of hair, or—in many cases—poison. They have become quite the collectable item these days.”

“Wait, are you talking about those big jeweled things that Caleb is always wearing on some finger or another?” Simon asked, suddenly realizing Rose was not going on about an engagement ring, but rather a clue to Frederick’s murder.

“Well, I didn’t know he always wears one, but he certainly was the night of the dinner party, for I commented on it. He responded rather oddly to my interest, too, now that I think about it—kind of shifty and secretive. He changed the subject quite quickly and then avoided me the rest of the night. I remember thinking it was all very peculiar.”

“Rose, I believe you may be onto something here…Caleb is a huge collector. Daggers, snuff boxes, historic relics…”

“So he could have a whole collection of these special rings?”

“If he remains true to form, yes. Not that I have seen them personally,” Simon admitted, “but he is always wearing one such thing or another. I don’t normally pay attention to adornments, but jewelry on a man is somewhat out of style these days.”

“Hmmm, well it would have been much easier to find if he had only one,” Rose acknowledged, “but if he is a collector, it is also more plausible that he is familiar with the history of the rings…including the various types of poisons people used with them.”

“That certainly is a possibility,” Simon agreed. “And you say you saw him wearing one the night Frederick fell ill?”

“Yes, as I said, I commented on it. It was unique. It was silver and jeweled, shaped like a tree or possibly a bush.”

Simon’s blood suddenly ran cold. “Shrewsbury, of course.”

“What is it, Simon?”

Simon looked up at her in consternation. “The literal meaning of Shrewsbury is ‘a place of shrubs or small trees.’ For centuries the Shrewsbury men have associated themselves with the strength and longevity of trees.”

“And we think Caleb might have used a tree-shaped ring to poison his brother,” Rose whispered.

“Thereby securing a branch for himself,” Simon growled. “That is the most disgusting, disrespectful… Arrghhh!” Simon abruptly stood up and began pacing back and forth, ranting to himself.

How could a brother do something like that? Simon would have given anything to have a sibling. In his mind, a brother or sister would have been like having a guaranteed best friend. Even when David or Alex complained about their siblings it was clear that there was an unconditional love there and always an undying loyalty. And to know that Caleb just threw his away, in the most egregious of ways…

It was appalling.

“Simon?” Rose said softly, and then again more loudly when he didn’t answer her.

“What!?” he practically snarled at her.

Rose recoiled from his sharp tone and immediately Simon felt horrible. Forcing himself to calm down, he walked over and sat beside her again. Taking her hands in his, he said, “I apologize, Rose. I am…” He broke off and just shook his head. He didn’t know what he was.

“You are angry—furious even—and sad…and probably feeling a little bit guilty,” Rose finished for him gently.

Simon looked at her in complete desolation. That was it…guilt. That was the ugliness he was feeling beneath all the rage and sorrow. He felt the most agonizing guilt.

For years he had (half) jokingly believed that Caleb was evil, but he never really admitted to himself that beneath that derision was an element of truth. Perhaps if he had taken the time to determine where that feeling came from—the feeling that there was something truly twisted in Caleb—he could have spoken to Frederick about it, perhaps warned him in some way.

How was it that Rose understood the shame and guilt he felt before he could even articulate it? Was he that transparent or did she just know him that well?

“This isn’t your fault, Simon. No one knew how sick Caleb was. Not truly,” Rose said. “Not his father, not his brother, certainly not you.”

Simon looked up sharply and was about to speak when Rose put her fingers over his lips. “No, Simon. You may have suspected he was a little off, but you did not know Caleb was capable of murder.”

Simon reached up and drew Rose’s fingers away from his mouth, but not before pressing a kiss into her palm. “How do you know that?” he said, staring at her in wonderment.

“Know what?” Rose whispered.

“Know exactly what I am thinking, feeling…before I am even aware of it myself?”

“I don’t know,” Rose admitted, shaking her head. “I just…do. At least I do lately.”

“Have I told you recently just how amazing I think you are?”

“Ah, no…not recently…or otherwise, for that matter,” Rose replied honestly.

“Well then, it is well past due. You, my dear Rose, are amazing.”

Rose appeared stunned for a moment before breaking into a radiant smile. “Thank you, Simon. I think you are rather remarkable, too.”

Although it was typical for one of polite society to return a compliment with a compliment, Simon got the distinct impression that Rose meant hers. Simon felt his chest puff out slightly with pride before remembering his earlier fear when the subject of rings came up. This mutual admiration had to stop.

Simon cleared his throat and handily changed the subject back to the investigation. “Now then, thanks to another stroke of brilliance on your part, it appears we need to come up with a plan to find Caleb’s rings.”

“Oh, yes! Do you have any idea where they may be?” Rose asked, warming to the subject quickly.

“No, I don’t,” Simon confessed. “The truth is I haven’t been to Shrewsbury Manse since Frederick died and even before that, I didn’t frequent it much. You are aware that my father and grandfather were not speaking?”

Rose nodded.

“Well, as a result,” Simon continued, “my family was not invited to visit overly much. My grandparents never extended the feud to include me and my uncle and father remained quite close, but my father never felt welcome in that house while my grandfather was alive and I suppose I felt uncomfortable there as well, mostly on his behalf.”

“That is completely understandable,” Rose assured him.

“Yes, but not particularly helpful, in this case,” Simon said wryly. “However, I do know that Caleb kept much of his collection in the second library. Frederick used to complain about the waste of time, space, and money it all was. But, for the life of me, I don’t recall seeing any rings there.”

“Perhaps if the collection is small enough, he would keep them in a jewelry box or something?”

“Perhaps,” Simon said, “but I think it is more likely he has them in the hidden room.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, clearly taken aback. “Did you say ‘hidden room’?”

Simon nodded. “Yes, when I was little, Caleb used to taunt me about a secret room that only true Collicotts knew about. Myself being a Trumbull, of course, I wasn’t privy to the location. It used to make me feel like an outsider among my own family. God, Caleb is such an ass.”