Christmas Rose Page 6

  “For a price, gov’nor. For a price. For ‘ow do I know what the lady’s gentleman will do to me hif ‘e finds out I knew all along she ‘ad become a mother? I could a told ‘im, of course. But I likes Marie, I really do, and so I sacreeficed my own gain, I did.”

  "I admire your loyalty,’’ said Naylor, quite seriously, for he knew how tempting it would have been for an ill-paid cabby. “But you need not worry that you will bring harm to Marie by this. Her lover need never know. I am not here to end a liaison, but to save a marriage.’’

  The cabby gave him Marie’s address, which was two streets over. It was next to a haberdasher whom Naylor had already questioned, and who had already twice denied knowing the woman. Naylor gave a smile of exasperation and knocked on Marie’s door.

  “Is your mistress at home?” he inquired of the maid who answered his knock.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, eyes wide in fear at the sight of a runner.

  “Please tell her that Gideon Naylor of Bow Street wishes to see her.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young woman scurried off, leaving Naylor in the hall. It was a very nice house, as love nests went, he could see. Not luxurious enough for her patron to be an earl or duke, but whoever the officer was, he had done well by her.

  The maid reappeared and led him into the parlor. “My mistress will be right down.”

  Naylor only had to wait a minute before a very pretty young woman appeared at the door. She was dressed less flamboyantly than he expected, but then, it was daytime. Her paint and powder was tastefully done, and the perfume she was wearing was pleasant, not cloying.

  “Mr. Naylor?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Has there been a crime in the neighborhood? Are you making inquiries?”

  “No, not at all. I have come to see you.”

  She sat down and gestured him to a chair.

  “I have been hired by Lord Holford, madam.”

  There was no change of expression on her face when he gave Jonathan’s name.

  “Lord Holford wishes to find the mother of his daughter. I believe her name is Rose,” Naylor added gently.

  Marie turned white. “Has anything happened to her? Does he not want her anymore?’’

  “She is in perfect health, from what I know. And he seems to consider her his own. No, it is that Lady Holford has been alienated from her husband by some gossip that only you can correct.”

  “Gossip? I can hardly do anything about society gossip, Mr. Naylor.”

  “It seems that the Holford’s stable lad saw you on the steps with Lord Holford. He kept it quiet all this time and just dragged out the tale to impress a young kitchen maid. Lady Holford overheard and thinks that Rose is the child of a union between you and Lord Holford. She has taken their daughter to Somerset and is demanding a separation from her husband.”

  “I see. But surely she must have wondered who the child’s mother was? Surely she should have guessed . . . she does love Rose?”

  Naylor was surprised to find himself moved by the woman’s concern. “You care about her then?”

  “Of course. Why do you think I left her there. I wanted her to have a chance. Had I kept her, we would both be in the workhouse now,’’ she answered passionately.

  “Your officer never guessed?”

  “No, and I am lucky to have good friends in the neighborhood who don’t gossip. Those who aren’t such good friends . . . well, I paid them off.”

  “Did he marry you?”

  “What do you think, Mr. Naylor?”

  “Likely not.”

  “He married someone his family picked out for him. But he is still my protector. I may have been wrong about the possibility of marriage, but he did and still does love me.”

  “So you have no regrets?”

  “I have thought of Rose every day for a year,” she said with tears in her eyes. “But no, as long as she is happy, I have no regrets.”

  “Will you come with me into Somerset?”

  “Won’t a letter do?”

  “It seems that Lady Holford’s conditions are seeing you and hearing the story from you.”

  “Will it make a difference to Rose?”

  “I would think so, wouldn’t you? She will have two parents again. And won’t be reminding her mother of her father’s supposed infidelity. Come on, luv, it will only be a day or two out of your life.”

  “All right, Mr. Naylor. I could be ready to go tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow is the day before Christmas Eve.”

  Marie smiled a bitter little smile. “And Christmas is a time spent with wives and families, isn’t it?”

  “Of course. Can you meet me at eight tomorrow morning at Lord Holford’s?”

  “I will be there.”

  “Thank you, Miss de Wolfe.” Naylor paused at the door as she led him out. “Miss de Wolfe ...”

  “Yes, Mr. Naylor?”

  “I think you are to be greatly admired. It took courage to give Rose away.”

  Marie’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Mr. Naylor. No one has ever guessed how much it cost me.”

  Naylor placed his leather hat securely on his head and walked down the street. Marie watched him and thought how odd it was that such a completely unprepossessing man was a runner. But then again, he had found her!

  The next day’s journey to Meare was a quiet one. Jonathan had greeted Marie kindly and had thanked her for her help. She asked a few questions about Rose, and he answered openly, with a father’s love and pride so clear on his face that Marie was again reassured that she had done the right thing to leave her child with him.

  Instead of spending the night at an inn, they pushed on. There was a full moon and the sky was clear. The moon lit their way, and the stars looked like diamonds spread out on a black velvet jeweler’s cloth. Jonathan could not sleep and found himself wanting Maddy desperately.

  They reached Meare in the early hours of the morning, and Marie was sent up to a spare bedroom. Jonathan lay in his bed, moonlight pouring into the room, wishing Maddy were beside him, hoping that she soon would be.

  The next morning after breakfast he bundled Marie into the coach, and they set off.

  “Will she see us, Lord Holford?”

  “I think so. Her parents will make sure of that.”

  “But whatever will they think of me?”

  “Don’t worry about anything but telling Maddy who you are,” Jonathan said reassuringly, acting calmer than he felt.

  They were admitted by the butler and sent into the drawing room. Lady Mansfield came in immediately.

  “Jonathan, my dear. I am so glad you are here.”

  “You do not think me the villain of the piece then, ma’am?”

  “No. I suppose I should, but knowing you, whatever you did was from good intentions.” Lady Mansfield suddenly noticed their other visitor and looked questioningly at her son-in-law.

  “This is Rose’s mother. Lady Mansfield, Marie de Wolfe.”

  Marie stood up and gave a clumsy curtsy.

  “She is here to tell Maddy the truth. Which is what I already told her. That I met Marie for the first time the night we found Rose and that my only deception was to pretend to know nothing of her origins.”

  Lady Mansfield’s face lit up. “Thank you for coming, Marie. I knew there had to be some explanation. Let me get Maddy. She is up in the nursery with Rose.”

  A look of longing passed quickly over Marie’s face, but it went unnoticed.

  A few more minutes, and then Maddy slowly entered.

  “Maddy!”

  Maddy put her hands up as though to ward her husband off.

  “Please, Jonathan, nothing you can say will change things.”

  “Maddy, this is Marie, Rose’s mother.”

  Madeline looked skeptical. Marie got up and walked over to her. “I am indeed Rose’s mother, Lady Holford,” she said quietly. “But I can assure you that Lord Holford is not her father. I never met him until that night last year, and
indeed, I never knew who he was until two days ago.”

  Maddy would not allow the wild hope that sprang up in her heart to overcome her suspicions.

  “If you are indeed Rose’s mother, then please tell me your story. And begin by telling me what she was wearing that night.”

  “She was wearing a flannel gown and a white wool cap which I crocheted for her. I embroidered it with pink roses.”

  Maddy felt such a surge of joy that she almost fainted. The woman was Rose’s mother. That much was true, so why should she not believe the rest.

  “Please go on.”

  Marie told her story briefly. “So you see, I would have left her in front of a vacant house, and God knows what might have happened to her, even if she survived the cold. Lord Holford saved her and me . . . and your marriage, I would guess?” she added tartly. “Surely you should not condemn him for such a small deception. And if you still have any doubts, you may ask Gideon Naylor yourself, and he will convince you that my story is true.”

  “I do not need to do that, whoever this Mr. Naylor is, Miss de Wolfe. I can tell that you are telling the truth. Jonathan, would you leave us for a moment?”

  Jonathan nodded and left, wondering what else Maddy wanted to know. She seemed to believe Marie, but hadn’t looked at him the whole time.

  After he closed the door, Maddy took Marie by the hands and led her over to the sofa, where she sat them both down.

  “Marie, I owe you so much that I can never repay you. I owe you Rose, who has brought the greatest joy to my life. And now I am indebted to you again for rescuing me from destroying my marriage. How might I repay you?”

  Marie was looking down at their clasped hands. “I wonder if I might see Rose, my lady. I didn’t come here meaning to ask that, you must believe,” she added. “And I don’t want to hold her or anything. I don’t think I could bear that.” Marie’s voice broke, and Maddy gently stroked her hand.

  “Are you sure you can leave her again?”

  “Oh yes, my lady. Her father is still my protector. He never knew about her and never shall. I must leave her with you for the same reasons as before.”

  “Then let us go up to the nursery. She is playing with her nurse, and we can peek in from the doorway. If she is occupied, she will never know we are there.”

  When they got upstairs, the nursery door was open. Nancy was sitting in the rocking chair, knitting, while Rose was playing with her blocks, babbling softly to herself. Her back was to them, so all they could see was her chubby neck bent over her toys, and they watched her for a few minutes. Then Rose turned, as though sensing someone there, and her whole face lit up at the sight of Maddy.

  Marie turned and quickly walked down the stairs.

  “I will be right back, sweetheart,” said Maddy, and she quickly followed Marie. She found her by the door, trembling and crying.

  “Oh, Marie, I am so sorry.”

  “No, my lady. It was me that wished to see her. It was just the way she looked at you. You are truly her mother now, I realized, but it is still hard.”

  “You are a most courageous woman, Marie.”

  “You are the second person to tell me that,” said Marie with a watery smile. “I wish to go back to London immediately, before I lose that courage.”

  “I will arrange it right away with Jonathan. We will send one of the maids with you in the coach.”

  “Thank you, my lady. And I wish to tell you something.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will never forget Rose, but I have one bit of happiness amidst the sorrow. That is knowing that you are her mother.’’

  “Thank you, Marie. May I communicate with you from time to time? If it would not be too painful for you. I could let you know how Rose is doing.”

  “Oh yes, I would like that.”

  Maddy looked long and hard into Marie’s eyes. “I can never, never thank you enough, Marie. The only way I can show my appreciation is to try to be as good a mother as you are.”

  Marie left within the half hour, after saying goodbye to Jonathan. He was exhausted by the last twenty-four hours and informed Maddy that he was going home to rest and then change for the Christmas Eve service. “I will meet you at church, Maddy. I have no energy to talk now.’’

  Jonathan overslept, and he arrived late, just as the service had begun. The church had been transformed, cold stone warmed by candlelight, greens everywhere, and the altar piled high with hothouse flowers. Jonathan paused in the doorway. His family pew was in front and on the right. It was there that he must sit, of course, and he was sorry that he and Maddy had not talked, for it would look strange for him to be there all alone while she sat with her family on the left. But as he moved down the aisle he saw her, hymnal in her hands, standing alone in the Holford pew, and he knew that everything would be all right between them.

  He clasped her hand and squeezed it as he slid in next to her, and they sang “Adeste Fideles.” And when the service was over and all the neighbors gathered outside to give each other Christmas greetings, he had his arm tight around her waist.

  He sent his coach ahead a little way and asked her to walk with him. “I know it is cold, but it is a beautiful night.”

  “I would love a few minutes under the moon and the stars, Jonathan." And so they walked, holding hands, neither wanting to break the peaceful silence between them.

  Then Maddy began to sing, softly, an old carol:

  “We know by the moon That we are not too soon And we know by the ground

  That we are within sound . . ."

  Jonathan looked down at her and smiled. “And is it too soon for a Christmas kiss, Maddy?”

  “No, Jonathan.”

  He bent down and touched her lightly on the lips. “You do believe me now,” he asked.

  “I do. And I should have before, my dearest love. I should have trusted you.”

  “But I understand why you could not. Let us just be grateful to Marie and Gideon Naylor.”

  “Just who is this Mr. Naylor?”

  “Later, Maddy,” said Jonathan with a grin. The coach was before them. They climbed in, and Jonathan directed them to Meare.

  “But Rose,” protested his wife.

  “Will have her parents first thing in the morning. For tonight, I want you all to myself.”

  They needed no candlelight, for the moon shone in on them, softly illuminating Maddy’s curves and Jonathan’s hardness. They made love slowly and tenderly the first time, for they felt under a spell. But when they awoke in darkness, for the moon had moved on, they came to one another hungrily. And in the morning Jonathan reached for Maddy again, only to find her gone. He lay still for a moment, and then he heard her retching in the dressing room.

  “Maddy, are you all right?” he called to her anxiously.

  She came in, looking pale and tired.

  “You look dreadful, Maddy. Are you becoming ill?”

  “Well, thank you, my lord. I looked different in the moonlight last night, I surmise?” She crawled back under the comforter. “I think, Jonathan, that my mother may be right.”

  “About what?”

  “She suspects I may be increasing.”

  “How could that be possible after all these years?”

  “I don’t know, my love, but all the signs are there. I am beginning to believe it myself.’’

  Jonathan looked at his wife with wonder in his eyes. “I can’t believe that after all this time ...” A broad smile lit up his face. “Oh, Maddy, what a Christmas!” He held her close to him and buried his face in her hair. "I thought I was as happy as a man could be, but this has almost sent me over the top.”

  They dressed quickly and drove to Mansfield where Rose had been up for an hour, asking for Mama and Papa. She ran into their arms as soon as she saw them and dragged them into the parlor where presents were waiting.

  They watched her delight in ripping open the packages and laughed aloud at her startled face when she first played with her jack-in-the-box. H
er grandfather had bought her a new doll, a French one, exquisitely dressed and coifed. “So we can get rid of that dreadful Miss Jones, Maddy,” he whispered. But as much as she seemed to like her new toy, Rose never let go of Miss Jones. Miss Jones was with her when the jack-in-the-box popped open for the hundredth time that day, and Miss Jones went to bed with her, as always, that night.

  Maddy and Jonathan held hands and looked down at their daughter.

  “Do you think you will feel different about Rose, Jonathan, when we have a child of our own?”

  “I am afraid of the opposite. I cannot imagine that I could love a child more than our little Christmas Rose.”

  Copyright © 1992 by Marjorie Farrell

  Originally published by Signet (ISBN 9780451173416)

  Electronically published in 2015 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

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  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.