Copyright to VedaPettigrew
Henry strode angrily to the hall. There was no way these infuriating people were getting admittance inside their home. He knew sending the hatpin and belt would create a response but their audacity was hard to believe. He would never regret his choice - he had to admit wanting them to suffer in the knowledge that they brought about their own downfall.
He had been beyond horrified when he first discovered their cruelty towards such an innocent as Rosie, but he imagined that over time his ire and pain at the thought of her mistreatment would lessen.
What he did not foresee was the effect of watching his beautiful wife change. Just over these few months she had blossomed more than he had imagined possible. Her stutter had been vanquished, her true smile was now free and given frequently, her face glowed constantly, happiness leaked out of her and infected everybody around, her wit and charm - though always present was now e'en more devastating, she floated everywhere instead of merely gliding, like the earth barely had hold of her and she might fly away.
Watching this miraculous beauty emerge was utterly amazing, surprising. She had always been charming and witty with unparalleled exquisiteness. But had she been then what he saw now, she would have had twenty proposals daily. More.
Her parents stole that from her; stole her true self, squashing it under the weight of their expectations.
So instead of his wrath lessening, it had grown. Each month, each week, each day, increased his desire to destroy the people who had tried to destroy his wife. He acquiesced to her request not to leave them homeless and penniless only for her sake. If it were his choice they would be begging for coins on the street.
Chilton came to him as he reached the hall, Reeves and Oxley were ready by the door, smirks on their faces indicating their excitement for some possible violence. They were men he had carefully selected alongside Bult as protectors of his household. They were observably strong, between them they must weigh as much as his horse, and their size oft made others underestimate them, for they were also clever.
He trusted them, not only with his life, but Rosie's as well. He hoped she was not intimidated by Bult right now. It had not been by accident that she had not met him or Reeves as yet, they tended to alarm most females and he had not wanted anything to spoil her relaxation on either visit, but now it could not be avoided, her safety was paramount.
"They are nearing the house, Your Grace," Chilton indicated through one of the windows and he saw that indeed their carriage would park soon.
"I will go out first. Reeves, Oxley, you come also. Chilton, act on your instincts, I trust you to do the right thing as and when it becomes necessary."
Not many people could give such carte blanche to their butlers, but Chilton had proven himself time and time again. His instincts were impeccable.
"Thank you, Your Grace. I will not let you down." The staid man nodded then opened the front door.
Henry went out and stood with the two burly men flanking his sides in time for the carriage to roll to a halt.
Chilton immediately walked to the driver and instructed him. "Do not leave, they will be returning shortly."
The baron exited first, his eyes darting to Henry and then the men beside him. He was followed by a wincing baroness, moving as if every step was a trial. It solidified Henry's resolve to give her the chance to leave her husband, she had apparently borne the brunt of her husband's wrath in the past few days.
He could not bring himself to feel sympathy for her when he easily recalled each circular scar that dotted his wife's body. The barren womb she suffered because of her mother's need to give out worse than she received.
She did not deserve anything more than the bare minimum of human decency.
"What do you want?" Henry demanded of the baron once they stood before him.
"Is that any way to speak to your new father?" the deluded man asked.
"Let us not be liars and pretend anything other than the truth," Henry sneered. "You are not family. Not to me or anyone in this house. I have only had one father and he was a great man, unlike the one I see before me."
The baron turned red, "How dare you say such a thing. That girl in there is my daughter, my property..."
"Stop," he demanded coldly. "The Duchess of Amberly is mine. My wife, my property. And unlike you, I take care and pride in my most precious possession."
"Precious? If she is precious to you then you should honour us as her parents. We did nothing wrong in raising that girl. Do you think she would have turned out so well if not for us?"
Henry snarled at them both, "You think to take credit for her elegance? When you were the ones who created all her problems and then punished her for them?"
"I do not know to what you are referring, but..."
"Quiet. Do not interrupt me," Henry commanded. "I mean that every so-called fault you perceived in her, was either not truly a fault, merely your blind stupidity, or it was something you yourselves caused by your own hand."
The baron's mouth dropped open, his face could not redden any more, not healthily. The baroness gasped, lifting a weak hand to her forehead as if she would faint.
"Do not fall Madam, for nobody here will catch you," Henry snarled at her, not deceived by her act of feebleness. "I have heard and seen your words to Her Grace and know that nothing I have said has surpassed your sensibilities."
The baroness also reddened and gulped in apparent anguish. He cared not, his words were accurate.
"My daughter..." the baron began but Henry was fast reaching the end of his patience.
"You have no daughter," he roared. "She is not your concern, she is nothing to you anymore. The only man she calls Papa, is Maestro. With my permission and blessing. She will never call you that again. I have forbidden her to speak to you ever again. You have nothing between you and never will again."
"You take my daughter from me alongside everything else," the baron spluttered. "You have treated me appallingly and now you seek to destroy my relationship with my daughter."
Henry stared at him coldly, he would not repeat himself for this man. The baroness took his silence as an opportunity to wheedle.
"We knew you wanted her to yourself for a while, Your Grace, but we thought with time that we would be in her life again." She smiled in a sickly manner, "For who else will help her when she has to negotiate all the new difficulties that accompany her new station? Who will be alongside her when she bears your heirs? She needs her mother."
Acid churned in Henry's gut at the reminder of what these people had cost him and his wife. They would never know, they did not deserve that truth. "She has a mother," he said coldly. "Mine. She has called her Mama since we first married and their relationship is closer in a few months than the one you had with her for years."
The baroness paled, "You cannot mean that?" Her hand clutched her throat and she stumbled as if she was about to faint. Henry stood like marble, not moved by her shameless fakery. When nobody rushed to her side, she somehow managed to find her sturdiness once more, a sour expression developing upon her face.
"What are you doing here?" Henry had reached the end of his willingness for discourse.
"I came to offer you a duel, you have impugned my reputation and ruined my business," raged the baron.
A deep chuckle escaped Henry's lips. Surprisingly, the idea of duelling this man did not appeal, it was beneath him. He was no coward, but he was not sorry for his actions in destroying the baron and to accept a duel that was not even challenged but offered was not an act of honour. It would be like accepting his behaviour was erroneous.
"I cannot take you up on your offer," he sneered. "You may feel like I have been dishonourable in my actions towards you but I consider myself to have been generous indeed."
"Generous?" the baron spluttered indignantly.
"Are you living in a poor house?" Henry mused sardonically. "No." His hand apathetically waved outward.
The baron stared at him in disbelief, "You are a coward then?"
"No," he replied shortly. "You are beneath me in every way. Your station far below my own. You are many years advanced in age. The reasons you offered a duel are invalid, I have not done anything to you that you did not deserve. This duel you desire is not a point of honour. It is a last ditch effort for you to win an upper hand that will never be yours."
"How did I deserve the way you have treated me? Is disciplining your family illegal?"
"It was immoral to take something pure and innocent and ruin it for your own pleasure," Henry growled. "You wished me to have a pure canvas to enjoy on my marriage. You assumed every man is as heinous as you and would also desire to deal out black and purple bruises on ivory skin. Your desire is not to discipline but to mar for your own enjoyment. I can guarantee that nothing Her Grace did, deserved the punishments you two wrought upon her."
He felt the steadily growing anger of the men beside him. He had not spoken of the reasons behind his contempt of her parents. Explanations were not necessary for their loyalty. However, he also knew that violence against women filled them with revulsion and he could sense their longing to show the baron their true feelings.
The menace that oozed from them affected the foolish man and Henry smirked when he took a step back. He was tired of this and would soon issue his last threat before evicting them from his presence. But he knew Rosie wanted her chance to show her parents that they had no power over her now.
The problem was that he was not convinced it to be true. She had been tortured by these people and seeing them might cause her harm rather than good. But, he trusted her to know her mind. She said she would not come if she was not prepared and he believed her.
Before he could give the nod to Chilton, the intuitive man had already begun his journey to fetch his wife. Henry turned to the baron and baroness.
"I do not pretend to understand what you thought you might gain from this visit. Did you think you could use Her Grace to aid your cause to regain your power and wealth? Is that what you truly wanted? Tell me the truth of what you thought would be the outcome of your forced visit."
The baron took a threatening step forward, "I wanted justice. I want you to stop this campaign against me when I have done nothing wrong. We might have different view on how to raise children but that is no reason for what you have done. I came to appeal that we discuss this like gentlemen."
"Yet you have not done that yourself."
"I came with the intention of doing so, but you were the one who cut short any pleasantries," he argued.
Henry merely lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgement. It was clear to him that desperation and short-tempered impulsiveness had brought the man here. He plainly had no plan other than to turn up and hope he could manipulate or bully his way to making Henry renege on his actions. It was short-sighted, selfish stupidity and he had no time for it.
"There can be no pleasantries between us," he stated in a tone of ice. "You are about to understand why your actions against my wife were not only unnecessary but in fact harmful."
"What do you mean?"
"She has not been treated badly since she left you and she is not the same person." As he spoke, he heard her coming out behind him. The baron's eyes flicked to her with utter contempt and Henry realised that the useless man had never come with the intention of apology or true reconciliation. He held no care for the woman he had raised. Rose had never deserved his wrath, but now even less so. Yet the look the baron was giving her showed with clarity where he put the blame.
He flicked his eyes to the baroness. She looked upon Rose like she was dirt. It hurt his heart to think that they did not love her, that she had grown up never receiving their affection. All she was to them was a means to an end. A way to raise themselves above their station. They did not care for her happiness and he had the wherewithal to realise that they would have married her to anybody to help themselves.
The thought enraged him but he forced himself to remain silent. Now was his wife's time to shine and she needed him to be steady and strong beside her.
He turned from the useless pair and faced his favourite person in the world. He was pleased to note that although she was pale and grasped her dress-skirts, betraying her unease, she had a steely look of determination in her eye.
He gave her his proudest smile. He knew the effect his advocacy had upon her and was not surprised to see the immediate effect. Her shoulders straightened and with her eyes trained only on him, she returned the smile lovingly. He held out his hand and she came to stand before him, looking up at him in adoration.
He muttered an imprecation under his breath, how he loved being looked at like that. "Are you ready?" he murmured. "To say they are not being pleasant is to severely lessen the truth. If you do not wish to speak, then do not ask me for permission and you will have no need to utter a word."
She patted his waistcoast and sighed contentedly. "Thank you, my hero."
With a squeeze of comfort, he turned and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and stood beside him. A small breeze blew up around then and as always, Rose's face turned to catch it like it was her favourite thing.
"Hardly improved, Your Grace," the baroness called acerbically. "Her manners are more atrocious than I have ever seen."
He tensed, hoping that Rose would not crumble under her mother's sharp tongue. It must have brought back so many terrible memories. He glanced to the side and saw her smiling serenely towards the baroness, seemingly unaffected by the insult.
She was not asking for permission to speak yet so he did it for her. "If you speak to my wife like that again there will be consequences."
"You said she was not the girl we knew and you were right," the baroness addressed him now. "She seems wild and coarse, smiling like a simpleton. I do not know why you thought we would be impressed."
"Your Grace," Rose turned and addressed him and he was enchanted by the peace on her face. "May I have permission to speak to Baroness Winthrop?"
Remembering their secret dance code he nodded his head, "You may."
"Baroness Winthrop," she began and immediately he noticed the astonishment on their faces at her clear speech. "You have deigned to come uninvited to our home and you think to call me wild and coarse? I think the only simple ones here are you and Baron Winthrop. You have broken every etiquette and behaved in an ignominious manner by your actions today."
The baron opened his mouth but she held up her hand and continued speaking only to the baroness. "Your intentions for coming here matter not. There is no possible reason to have behaved so badly and while you might think yourselves immune to protocols that have stood for more years than you have been alive, you are mistaken."
"You think we have no right?" the baron spat at her. "You ungrateful, spoilt little witch."
Chilton immediately nodded to Reeves and the giant walked forward and stood close to the man, leaning intimidatingly towards him. He was in easy striking distance.
"Speak like that again and I will let my man here do what I know he has been desperate to do since he heard of the way you mistreated a female you were meant to protect," Henry warned coldly.
Bult growled protectively as the meaning of his words allowed him a sliver of understanding of the Duchess' past. Rose turned to him and smiled generously. Henry was stunned when Bult easily returned it. He had never seen him smile. Not ever. Even though he had known him for years and seen him interact with many women, nobody had done what Rosie had obviously achieved in a matter of minutes.
Maybe she was a witch. But she was his perfect little witch.
She turned back and he noticed a look of satisfaction skim over her face upon seeing the baron slightly cowering under the weight of the glare Reeves was sending his way. She stood taller but did not ask him for permission to address him, so none was given.
"We are waiting for your apology," Bult growled. "You do not speak to our Duchess that way."
The baron blustered as much as he was able to, while still clearly terrified of the man in front of him. When no apology came, no more requests were given and Reeves stepped ominously closer, causing the baroness to shriek and feint back.
"I apologise, Your Grace," the hapless man managed to bite out fearfully, focussed more on Reeves than Rose.
She turned to Henry and he looked down at her, waiting. She nodded but remained quiet and he turned to the odious man, "Yet again my wife has accepted an apology that she should not, but we shall not waste our time trying to extricate a real one, you are not able to give one, for you have no care or love for the one person who deserves it above all other."
The baron ground his teeth but made no reply. Rose turned to the baroness once more, "Why did you come here?" she turned to him, "Do we know why, my love?"
Henry smirked at her endearment. They were not going to be happy about that. He was right, the disgust upon the baroness' face was evident, but she held her tongue.
"I believe it was their intention to manipulate and bully their way back to their previous position," he replied, easily admitting his internal thoughts from earlier.
"Well then, they are even more foolish than I first thought," she answered Henry only and his admiration for her grew. She was behaving like his wife, not their daughter. He was certain she was hurt by them and their careless attitude towards her, but she did not show it. She was strong as iron.
"You continue to insult us at every turn," the baron fumed. "You refuse to duel me..."
"Oh, thank you Henry," Rose turned to her husband in gratitude. "I am glad, for if you had killed him then we would have to deal with so much gossip."
He was delighted by her support, he knew that was not the reason for her reluctance, but she would not impugn his honour by showing her fear for him. He smirked at her and she blushed prettily.
Ignoring the baron's outrage, she turned back to the baroness. "Is what my husband said, true? Do you desire your former standing to return to you, alongside your fallen fortune?"
The baroness stood silent, staggered by the confident woman before her and Henry knew she had done what she needed to do. Rose was out from under their shadow and now she would happily live in his light with him alone, no shadows haunting her any more.
"You were meant for one purpose and you have failed us," the baron boomed.
She turned to her husband, "May I speak to him?"
Henry glared at the baron for a few uncomfortable moments and turned back to her, "Who are you asking? Your Grace, or your love?"
She smiled serenely, "Do you know? I thought I was asking My Grace, but now I believe I was asking my love."
"Then no you may not," he directed happily. The baron's face grew redder with fury but Rose did not allow him a chance to speak.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Very well, you know I am always happy to obey you my love. Though, if you please would inform the baron..." she turned and looked the odious man in the eye while she spoke to Henry. "That I have a great many purposes but none of them are anything to do with him. If anyone has failed anyone else, it would be the parents of a girl who did nothing wrong, yet received night after night of painful punishments. Tell the baron that since I now live in a place of happiness, where I am loved and give love, that I am fully satisfied with my life and my purpose."
She turned back to him, ignoring the mounting shock on the baron's face. "And my love, please excuse me now, for I have nothing further to say to them." She dropped to a low whisper, "But, if you are in agreement, perhaps put in place the little plan we discussed regarding Baroness Winthrop."
Henry realised that she had seen the stiff way the woman held herself and despite the cruel words flung at her, still wished to rescue her from her situation. He brought his hand to his lips and signalled for Bult, who seemed to twitch with need to deal with the worthless man before them.
"Of course I excuse you, my angel. I will join you for tea shortly." He kissed her hand and she turned back to the baron and baroness.
"Goodbye. I wish you well for the rest of your life. I forgive you because I do not deserve to carry the pain of what you did with me." With that, she turned abruptly and glided inside, Bult shutting the door behind them.
"That was more than you deserved," Henry barked, "Her Grace is worth a hundred of you. Nay, a thousand. But we shall move forward, it is now time to give you your final address.
"You are not welcome in this or any other house to which we have admittance. You are not permitted to visit us anywhere we might be, nor make any attempt to contact Her Grace. You are to leave now and hope I never set eyes upon you again. For if I do, nothing will stop me from seeking your utter ruin.
"Right now you leave with the use of all your limbs; that would change. You leave with the ability to survive on the meagre money you still possess; that would also change. You are leaving without an arrest tarnishing your name; that would change.
"There is nothing I will not do for my wife, nothing. You tried to ruin her with your ridiculous sense of propriety but she is stronger than both of you - better than you could ever hope to be.
"Understand this. No more. Go, and do not return, for you will not leave so unscathed in the future. I will give you both time to think on your own sins. Baron, you will leave with Oxley..."
"The carriage is ready, Your Grace," Chilton supplied helpfully. He had skilfully predicted and organised what would be needed. Henry nodded in thanks.
"Baroness, you will return in the hired-cab you arrived in." The woman remained in shocked silence.
He nodded to Reeves who then manhandled the protesting Baron towards the carriage that was now appearing round the corner of the house. Chilton deserved a medal, his timing was impeccable.
The Baron was stuffed unceremoniously through the door which was locked from the outside. "Take him back to London, he will not be able to afford to return here any time soon," he directed Oxley. He grinned at the visibly seething man, adding, "Do not kill him, but you have my permission to make the journey as uncomfortable as you desire.
Oxley grinned back, "Thank you, Your Grace." He jumped into the driver's seat as the baron was yelling out the window about his belongings. Henry did not reply, for he had no intention of involving himself with that. Losing a few items was the least the baron deserved for disturbing the peace of their last few days to themselves.
Once the Baron had gone, the rest of the staff stood back, allowing some privacy to the baroness who grew pale as she now faced him alone.
"Her Grace has asked me to offer you a chance to escape," he offered without preamble. "She has informed me of how Baron Winthrop treats you, and with your new lower position in life, we believe it likely to have worsened."
She stayed still, not confirming or denying his speculation.
"Although you have none of my respect, I would not want your death at your husband's hand, so I offer you this; I will instruct this cab to take you to an inn in another village, far away from the baron. I will provide you with the bare minimum of essentials; clothes, food, that sort of thing. You will stay there until a cottage is ready, one that is big enough for you and one servant, should you be able to keep one - you will have to learn to curb your viperous tongue.
"You may live there without fear for the rest of your days. Everything else that I said still stands, but you will be free to carve out a life for yourself that does not include having to suffer through beatings from a madman who enjoys inflicting pain, as you did upon my wife."
His temper flared as he reminded himself of her cruelty, but he kept it in check. She would be punished either way and it was her decision now.
She watched him warily for a few minutes and he could see her contemplating his words as silence ruled. "Is this real?" she finally asked in a quiet voice. "Or a trick?"
"I would not be so cruel," he retorted. "I am not like you, or the baron."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the raising of one challenging eyebrow silenced her. She turned her head and he saw purple smudges on her neck that indicated someone had had their hands about her throat.
"I suggest you take this offer madam, otherwise I fear it truly will mean your death," he offered, unable to hold back his thoughts.
She gulped. "Yes."
He waited expectantly.
"Please," she added.
"Very well, it will be done. Your husband will be informed you are not returning and you need not contact him again. I will hide you thoroughly. He does not have the resources to chase after you but he will not be told for one week which will give me the time to get you far away from him."
"Thank you, Your Grace." She was subdued now and he sensed the relief she felt. He found himself glad that Rose had suggested it even though he now had to organise something for a woman he despised.
"Goodbye," he said curtly, tilting his head to the cab.
Rutherford helped her into the carriage and Chilton stepped up to the driver, paying him and giving instructions that Henry neither knew nor cared about. He waited until the carriage was rolling away and then turned to the house.
He had a brave and perfect, but mischievous, angel to find.