Read Online A Bouquet of Thorns by Tania Crosse - Free Book Online Page B

for, and she lumbered over to where Florrie had been sitting in one of the more upright chairs, knitting a baby’s bonnet and pretending not to observe the scene between Rose and her husband.
    â€˜Quickly, Florrie,’ she hissed urgently. ‘While he’s gone, I’m going to look in the study. There must be a bill of sale or something in there. It might tell me who Charles sold Gospel to. The devil won’t tell me. I need you to stand guard and warn me when he comes back.’
    Florrie put down her knitting. ‘Of course,’ she whispered back. ‘Quickly, then. I’ll watch from the window. I’ll see him first from there.’
    â€˜Thank you, Florrie.’
    Rose’s pulse trundled at her temples as she slipped into the study. All was neat and tidy as always. Where should she begin? Surely Charles wouldn’t have been so careless as to leave such evidence on the desk, but it seemed the obvious place to start. There were two piles of papers sitting on the inlaid leather and she rifled through them at speed. Letters from his broker and solicitor, all relating to business.
    She sighed, and glanced around the room. Two of the walls were lined with polished wood shelves, all nicely scrolled along the edges when they had first been installed for Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt’s friend eighty years or so previously. Charles had transported some of his favourite books down from London, joining those that Rose herself had brought from Cherrybrook, but most of the shelves were empty. There certainly weren’t any business papers lurking on them. She would try the drawers of the desk, then.
    There were three on either side. Rose’s hands shook and she realized her palms were sweating as she opened the top one on the left. Writing paper, envelopes, nothing more. The next was full of household bills, accounts. The coal merchant in Princetown. Rose remembered the horrible day she had discovered that her father’s cheques were being returned by the bank, and that none of the coal they had consumed for almost a year had been paid for. It was all part of the reason why she had turned to Charles, to the man who was the answer to her prayers and who she believed she could love. And now he had betrayed her in the most cruel, unforgivable way he could.
    The deep bottom drawer held company reports of the many enterprises Charles held investments in, among them the Kimberley diamond mine and the newer gold mines in South Africa. He had told her a little about them, reluctantly, as if a woman didn’t have the wit to understand. But how could she possibly if he wouldn’t explain it all to her? Just now, however, he was right that she wasn’t interested. All she wanted was to discover who had bought Gospel so that she could try to get him back.
    She went to open the top drawer on the right. It was locked, and Rose’s heart sank to her boots. Of course, there could be important business papers in it, things he wouldn’t want the servants to be able to see. Perhaps even documents that would show exactly how wealthy he was. There was the grand house in London, beautifully furnished, and with a fully employed staff even though Charles spent so little time there nowadays. There was never any expense spared, and he had bought Fencott Place without batting an eyelid. Rose’s mouth twisted. She lived in the lap of luxury, but she paid for it dearly in Charles’s bed – and now that her father was dead, he had taken Gospel, her only joy, away from her.
    She went through the other drawers, scattering their contents uncaringly on the floor and then scooping them up and returning them to some sort of order before replacing them. Charles mustn’t realize what she had done. She sat back, drained and defeated, in the chair, desperately eyeing the locked drawer. She had discovered no key elsewhere. Charles doubtless kept it on his person. Damn him! There was a paper knife on the