Black Rose

she whispered, and something in his face, something in her fractured mind gave her truth. “You want to get rid of me because... you know. It’s you who’ve taken the baby.”
    He finished his drink as he studied her. Then set the empty glass on the mantel. “Do you think I’d allow a creature like you to raise my son?”
    “My son!” She sprang up again, hands curled like claws.
    The slap stopped her. In the two years he had been her protector, he had never raised a hand to her.
    “Listen to me now, and carefully. I will not have my son known as a bastard, one born of a whore. He will be raised at Harper House, as my legitimate heir.”
    “Your wife—”
    “Does what she is told. As will you, Amelia.”
    “I’ll go to the police.”
    “And tell them what? The doctor and midwife who attended you will attest that you delivered a stillborn girl, while others will attest my wife delivered a healthy boy. Your reputation, Amelia, will not stand to mine, or theirs. Your own servants will swear to it, and to the fact that you’ve been ill, and behaving strangely.”
    “How can you do this?”
    “I need a son. Do you think I selected you out of affection? You’re young, healthy—or were. You were paid, and paid well for your services. You will be recompensed for this one.”
    “You won’t keep him from me. He’s mine.”
    “Nothing is yours but what I allow you. You would have rid yourself of him, had you been given the opportunity. You’ll come nowhere near him, now or ever. You will make the crossing in three weeks. A deposit of ten thousand dollars will be put in your account. Until that time your bills will continue to come to me for payment. It’s all you’ll get.”
    “I’ll kill you!” she shouted when he started out of the parlor.
    At this, for the first time since he’d arrived, he looked amused. “You’re pathetic. Whores generally are. Be assured of this, if you come near me or mine, Amelia, I will have you arrested, and put in an asylum for the criminally insane.” He gestured for the servant to bring his hat and stick. “You wouldn’t find it to your taste.”
    She screamed, tearing at her hair and her gown; she screamed until blood ran from her flesh from her own nails.
    When her mind snapped, she walked up the stairs in her tattered gown, humming a lullaby.

ONE

    Harper House
    December 2004

    DAWN,THE AWAKENING promise of it, was her favorite time to run. The running itself was just something that had to be done, three days a week, like any other chore or responsibility. Rosalind Harper did what had to be done.
    She ran for her health. A woman who’d just had—she could hardly say “celebrated” at this stage of her life—her forty-seventh birthday had to mind her health. She ran to keep strong, as she desired and needed strength. And she ran for vanity. Her body would never again be what it had been at twenty, or even thirty, but, by God, it would be the best body she could manage at forty-seven.
    She had no husband, no lover, but she did have an image to uphold. She was a Harper, and Harpers had their pride.
    But, Jesus, maintenance was a bitch.
    Wearing sweats against the dawn chill, she slipped out of her bedroom by the terrace door. The house was sleeping still. Her house that had been too empty was now occupied again, and rarely completely quiet any longer.

    There was David, her surrogate son, who kept her house in order, kept her entertained when she needed entertaining, and stayed out of her way when she needed solitude.
    No one knew her moods quite like David.
    And there was Stella, and her two precious boys. It had been a good day, Roz thought as she limbered up on the terrace, when she’d hired Stella Rothchild to manage her nursery.
    Of course, Stella would be moving before much longer and taking those sweet boys with her. Still, once she was married to Logan—and wasn’t that a fine match—they’d only be a few miles away.
    Hayley would still be here, infusing the house with all that youth and energy. It had been another stroke of luck, and a vague and distant family connection, that had Hayley, then six-months pregnant, landing on her doorstep. In Hayley she had the daughter she’d secretly longed for, and the bonus of an honorary grandchild with the darling little Lily.
    She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been, Roz thought, until those girls had come along to fill the void. With two of her own three sons moved away, the house had become too