Was it the sadness that came with the loss of his wife and her baby? It had indeed been a grievously distressing time, for she had been his wife after all, and to lose two lives in one moment had been a terrible fate. Quite how he had endured it, he still was not certain, for his heart had already been thoroughly broken by his love for Eliza that could never be given to her, and then to lose his wife had added yet more difficulty to his heart.
“Will you not spare me more trouble?” he whispered, sending a prayer to heaven in the hope that he might find some comfort there. It was not as though he could blame the Almighty for what had been his own decisions, however, knowing that it had been his choice to do as his uncle had asked and marry Rebecca. To now have had the chance to restore his relationship with Eliza, only for it to be taken from him and smashed to pieces at his feet was more than troubling, for his heart and mind screamed with the pain and agony of it, the regret he had always worn as a cloak about him seeming to tighten around his throat every time he thought of her.
Closing his eyes, Jeremy pushed himself out of his chair and rose from his study desk. He had correspondence to read, yes, and there were matters of the estate that he could deal with, but there was no urgency to do so and he certainly did not have the desire to take things forward either. Perhaps it was time to do what he had been avoiding for so long.
Time to look through his late wife’s personal things and set them to order. Some would be given away, but the majority would be returned to his uncle so that he might decide what to do with them. Jeremy had not given Rebecca very much by way of wedding gifts and she had seemed to have always had what she required, so there would not be a good deal for him to sort through.
Perhaps it was time to do so. It would give him strength to open those rooms again, to have them cleared, aired and made useful, instead of a constant reminder as to what he had been forced to do and what had become of Rebecca thereafter.
“I am to go to my wife’s rooms,” he informed his butler, after ringing the bell for him. “Send up some brandy, will you?” He saw the butler nod, quickly hiding his look of astonishment. “And a few things to eat,” Jeremy added, as an afterthought, not quite able to remember whether or not he had broken his fast that morning.
“Of course, my lord,” the butler murmured, bowing. “I shall have the maids remove the dust sheets from the rooms immediately. If you would be pleased to wait for a few minutes?”
Jeremy nodded. “Of course.”
The butler withdrew and Jeremy contented himself with wandering to the large window that overlooked a large portion of his estate – as well as giving him view of the neighboring lands that belonged to the Whitehaven estate.
Eliza.
His heart ripped afresh and he turned away from the sight, not wanting to let his thoughts become so deeply morose all over again that he would struggle to find any incentive to do anything at all. How much brighter the world had looked then! How much he had loved being in her company, reveling in the intimacy growing between them.
You could have spoken to her, said a quiet voice within him. You could have begged her not to wed Lord Montrose, spoken to her about Rebecca whether or not she wished to hear it.
“No,” he said aloud, closing his eyes tightly. “It is her choice to make. I will not impose myself. I will not impose.”
His eyes fell upon his study desk as he considered his dear, sweet love. He would not set himself before her eyes again, would not insist that she listen to all that he had to say, but he might, mayhap, write to her. He could tell her the truth about what had occurred, could tell her that he had never let a day pass without thinking of her, without his heart being filled with love for her, but that he wished her well and would pray that her marriage to Lord Montrose was one filled with all the joy and happiness that she deserved.
His heart knotted at the thought of writing and thereafter sending such a letter to Eliza. It would not be what he had wished to do, for he wanted to grasp her by the shoulders, to beg her aloud not to marry Lord Montrose before kissing her senseless, but it would, mayhap, bring a little relief to his misery and a little contentment to his heart.
Besides which, he needed to allow his staff time to prepare Rebecca’s room for his perusal. Moving towards the desk, Jeremy sat down with a deep sigh escaping from his lips. Without hesitation, he took out all that he would need and, within a few minutes, was letting his heart write itself onto the page.
* * *
Rebecca’s rooms were not as dark nor as dusty as he had been expecting. Part of him had thought that there might still be a smell and stench of death from within it, worrying that he would be tormented by the harsh memories that came the moment he stepped inside, but much to his relief, nothing of the sort occurred.
It was almost as though a burden had been bodily lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to breathe a little easier. Walking to the window, he pushed it open a little more, dragging in a lungful of fresh, morning air before letting his gaze travel around the room all over again.
Rebecca’s things were not that many in number. The dressing table bore some of her more personal items and there was a small trinket box that had a tiny gold lock on the front. The rest of her things appeared to be clothes and the like, which did not interest him particularly. Her prayer book was sitting by her bed and he could imagine her reading it each night, before she fell asleep.
He hoped her faith had been of some comfort to her in the last few hours of her life.
A wave of sadness washed over him as he walked to the dresser, picking up her hairbrush before setting it back down again. There was nothing of particular interest here and he could tell his staff to simply pack up all of her things and send them to Lord Northgate.
The trinket box, however, caught his eye again and he found himself reaching for it, peering at the gold lock and wondering why she had occasion to hide something away. Trying to lift the lid did him no good at all, for the box was locked tight and, for what appeared to be quite a delicate lock, it was quite unrelenting beneath his prying fingers.
Frowning, Jeremy began to scour the room for the key, already feeling disheartened, given that it would be remarkably small and could be very easily lost. In the seven months he had been married to Rebecca, he had never allowed himself to pry into what she felt or feared, what she prayed for and what she hoped. He had always reminded her that he was her husband and would treat her with kindness and understanding, should she ever wish to speak with him, but whilst she had nodded and thanked him, she had never sought him out. They had lived separate lives, which Jeremy had accepted with the hope that, in time, they would begin to find a way of coming together and finding some semblance of happiness.
Therefore, it was to be expected that he had no knowledge of where this key might be, or even a thought of what might be hiding within. Nor could he explain the reason for his interest but Jeremy knew that, even if he set the trinket box back down upon the dressing table and returned to his study, it would continue to nag at him, its secrets holding a mystery that he simply had to solve.
Shaking his head, Jeremy let out a soft groan and rose from where he had been searching, thinking that he was beginning to undertake what would prove to be an impossible task. Mayhap he should simply force the trinket box and break it open, for no-one would be particularly upset with him.
Looking around the room one last time, Jeremy’s eyes fell upon the prayer book. He had not looked there, although he did not think that such a small book could contain anything of the kind. Picking it up, he leafed through it quickly – only to discover that a small gold chain was caught in between two pages. Pulling it out deftly, he saw, to his delight, that the gold key was hanging on the end.
“Let us see what secrets you have to hide,” he muttered to himself, his heart pounding as though it expected him to find something truly terrible within. The key went in smoothly and he turned it at once, delighted when it opened without hesitation.
What he saw within made his heart stop dead.
Letters tied in a red ribbon, nestled in the depths of the box. He lifted them out carefully, astonished to discover yet more written underneath, although these were tied with a black ribbon and had been flattened down hard. What secrets had Rebecca been hiding from him?