From the Journal of the Duke of Avendale
A dark secret shaped me into the man I am . . .
Another’s set me free.
In my youth I witnessed something that I wasn’t supposed to. Had I not disobeyed my mother and returned home that night, I’d have never seen her striking out and killing my father. I understand now it was an accident, but at the time, in my young mind, I saw villainy. When my mother married William Graves shortly afterward, I saw duplicity. Over the years, I held close these treacherous thoughts along with my father’s words that my mother wished me harm. They haunted me, conspired to separate me from my family.
My Rose carried burdens as well, but with far more dignity. She had a brother the world treated unkindly. To make amends to him for others’ sins, she turned to swindling. In some ways she was a female Robin Hood, taking from the wealthy to give to those Society had branded as curiosities, those that life had not treated fairly. While I fully comprehend that her actions were not commendable, I also understand how and why they came to pass. She wanted to create for her brother a better world than the one in which they lived, and she knew that time was not on her side, so she took a shortcut which eventually led her to me.
And she, along with Harry, changed my life.
Not a day goes by that I don’t consider the fortuitous night when I glanced out over a balcony and had my attention snagged by a lady in red. Two minutes later, two minutes earlier, and I might have never seen her. I might have simply wandered off for another game of cards, another journey into decadence.
Instead that night I stepped onto a path that would eventually reveal what I’d been searching for all along: a love so profound, so deep, so true that I would do anything to protect the woman who captured my heart. Because through her, I came to understand the unmeasured lengths to which one would go for someone he or she loved. Through knowing her I regained my family. Through loving her, I regained myself. Through marriage to her, I gained a life far richer than all the coins in my coffers.
Our first son, my heir, we named Harry. He was perfection when he was born. Rose worried that her brother’s affliction might visit our children, but it didn’t. To this day, they remain perfect in appearance. More importantly, they are perfect in heart.
Merrick, Sally, and Joseph found employment at the Twin Dragons. They stayed in London and often joined us for meals and holidays. Our children viewed them as family.
In my library, on a gilded stand, rest the pages that Harry so painstakingly filled with his story, with Rose’s, one that eventually became part of mine. I often read the final words of the story that Harry wrote:
My tale must come to an end now, but Rose’s will carry on. While I cannot see into the future, I do believe that Rose and her duke will live happily ever after.
Indeed we did.