The Duke's Rose: A Clean Historical Regency Romance (Tales of Bath)

by Kira Stewart

  There was no time to waste. It was still early morning and not many folks would have ventured out as yet on such a cold morning. She would send out her carriage immediately on the route to the village, the one that her niece would have taken, and they would hopefully find the girl, before someone else did. Besides, Vivian Roebuck was hoping that the girl would not be in a position to speak, hopefully for good. If so, she could easily make up a story about why the girl was out in the snow. Surely there would be no-one alive to dispute her word?

  •••

  Although still very ill, Annabelle had spent the night comfortably. Sir Henry Faversham had not left her side, and as he had watched the girl, her fine features flickering against the fires glow, his heart had softened, and he had felt an ache in what had been an empty space for so many years.

  •••

  When the carriage and driver returned with no word of the girl, the unease in Vivian Roebuck’s mind turned to panic.

  The wretched girl had been nothing but trouble since the day she had entered their household. She called for her daughters around the breakfast table, much earlier than they were used to, and explained the situation. They complained bitterly about being awoken so early.

  “But Mama, what does it matter about Annabelle? If she is found, you can just say that she wanted to go out of her own free will and there was nothing you could do to stop her.”

  The cold-hearted Charlotte ate greedily at a large piece of bread and butter. She particularly despised Annabelle and cared nothing for what might have happened to her cousin.

  “But the blame will be put at my door, Charlotte. The wretched creature was wearing little in the way of warm clothing, and it will be asked why we did not go and search for her.”

  “You have sent the carriage out to look for her, Mama, as soon as you could this morning. Is that not so? The weather was too bleak last night for anyone to venture out, and besides, you imagined that Annabelle would have found shelter at one of our neighbors. The silly girl should have turned back if the weather was too bad to walk in. When she set off, it was barely snowing. There you see, that is the explanation! Now, do pour out the hot chocolate, before it becomes cold.”

  Mrs. Roebuck smiled. Her eldest daughter was very clever, some might almost say sly.

  “You are quite right, Charlotte. I hadn’t thought it through properly. Of course, it is all the girl’s own fault. She could have easily retraced her steps, once the snow began to fall. And as you say, she could have most easily called in on old Mrs. Barnes. It is but less than a mile from here, and Annabelle has mentioned seeing her in the village. Now, that is settled, we can eat our breakfast in peace.”

  The girl’s identity to Sir Henry remained a mystery. She had been carrying very little on her by way of identification, and the basket which had been found lying next to her had been empty. In her pocket, they had found a sixpence, but that was all. Although looking better, she still slept soundly and the doctor advised that she not be disturbed.

  It was only when the young girl, Jenny, arrived for house cleaning duties later that morning, that the mystery was finally solved.

  The young servant recognized the girl immediately.

  “Oh Sir, I know who she is. I have often spoken with her in the marketplace. A lovely, friendly girl, she is. Always takes the time to say hello. I pity the poor girl, I do.”

  Jenny looked up anxiously at her master, wondering if she had spoken out of turn and said too much, not being fully aware of the situation.

  “It is all right, Jenny. Now, why do you say ‘poor girl’? Do not be afraid to speak openly in front of the doctor and me. If there is more to tell, then do go on.”

  The young girl looked nervous, but carried on bravely.

  “Well, Sir, I can only say what I have seen with my own two eyes. As I say. The young girl there, I believe she is called Annie, Sir, short for Annabelle. I know that, because I heard her aunt calling her by her name.”

  “An aunt you say?”

  Henry Faversham wished the girl would hurry with her story, yet sat patiently.

  “Go on, Jenny.”

  “Well, Sir. I only saw her with her aunt once. Usually, she is on her own, you see. But her aunt looks a very thin and bad tempered woman.”

  Sir Henry sighed.

  “But you cannot tell someone’s character by their looks, Jenny.”

  “Oh no, Sir, do not get me wrong. I have nothing against the lady, but it was the way she spoke to Annie here. She was blaming her for making them both late for the market, and them all being out of good beef at the butchers’ that day. Usually, Annie did the shopping all by herself, you see, Sir, but on that day, her aunt needed something ‘specially for visitors, you see, Sir.”

  “Still, that means little, Jenny. I have often heard Mrs. Shaw scold you, but I know she is very fond of you.”

  The young maid blushed.

  “But this was different, Sir, pardon me saying so. Young Annie never looked happy and she was always so very pale and thin. She looked afraid of her aunt, and maybe it is just me, Sir. I only saw the woman for a few moments, but I did not like her at all, Sir.”

  Sir Henry sat thoughtfully for a moment.

  “Did Annie ever say she was unhappy, that she was treated unkindly?”

  The girl shook her head.

  “Oh no, Sir. Annie would never do that. She is too kind a girl. But I know, Sir, that something wasn’t quite right. Some great unhappiness is in that girl’s heart.”

  The older man couldn’t help but smile. Jenny was a young girl with a romantic heart, and he had often heard Elise Shaw scolding the girl for reading, instead of doing her work. Still, there was something about the current situation that did not sit right with him, and he did not dismiss the girl’s thoughts completely.

  “Now, tell me, Jenny, do you know where young Annie lives?”

  Jenny knew the house well. She had sometimes walked part way back from the village with Annie, on the way to her own small house that she shared with her mother and brothers.

  Once the place had been described, the doctor knew immediately who the young maid was speaking of, and as soon as the girl had been dismissed, he spoke candidly.

  “I know of the family in question. I attended John Roebuck, just before he died, but I did not know that he had a niece living with the family. I believe that his widow, Mrs. Vivian Roebuck, has three daughters. In fact, I attended one of them last year with the croup, but I cannot remember poor Annie here.”

  Sir Henry Faversham scratched his head. It certainly was a mystery, and one he was determined to get to the bottom of. After assurances that the doctor would return later that afternoon to check on the girl, he sent for his carriage straight away.

  4.

  The snow lay thickly on the narrow road that led from Wellington Manor to the crossroads, just outside of the village, and onto the home of the Vivian Roebuck. The snow had covered the tracks of the previous evening and the wheels of the carriage cut through the thick, white layer, leaving deep tracks along the road.

  Henry Faversham shivered against the cold, even though he was dressed for the weather, and had a huge blanket wrapped around him. Since his accident and losing the use of both legs, his lack of mobility had left him feeling the cold weather more sharply than ever, and he longed for the spring.

  He thought about the poor girl lying in the snow. It was a wonder the poor wretch had survived such an ordeal. Her pale face filled his thoughts and his heart softened once again.

  The Gables was a smart stone-built house. Not as grand or as large as Wellington Manor, but of a modest size, set back from the road with its own gardens and driveway.

  As Perkins pulled the horses to a stop outside the front of the house, the front door was immediately opened by one of the servants. Having heard the carriage, Vivian Roebuck had immediately known that it would bring news of her niece, and she was quick to act the part of the worried aunt.

  Watching from th
e window, she immediately recognized Sir Henry, as his driver helped him into his wheelchair. He was one of the wealthiest men in the area and far above her social circle. Immediately, she gathered her daughters around her in the Drawing Room, and composed the scene of an anxious and worried family.

  As soon as he was announced and wheeled into the room, Vivian stood to greet him, dabbing a white lace handkerchief at a dry eye.

  “Sir Faversham, what a great honor. I am hoping you are bringing news of my dear niece, Annabelle?”

  The scene that met Sir Henry was very cozy. A huge fire burned brightly in the grate, and Mrs. Roebuck’s three girls were arranged neatly around it—two at their sewing, and one with a book.

  “These are my daughters, Sir Henry, Charlotte, Harriet and Jane. Now Charlotte dear, do send for some tea for Sir Henry.”

  The eldest girl smiled sweetly in return. She was impressed by the wealth and the title, but not so much by the wheelchair.

  “I do not have time for tea, Madam. I come with news of your niece, Annabelle, that is all.”

  Charlotte immediately stopped pulling the bell cord and returned to her seat.

  “Of course, Sir Henry. We have all been so terribly worried for poor Annabelle. Tell me, what news?”

  Once again, she dabbed at her dry eyes, her mouth pulled down in what she considered to be a serious and worried expression. He was keen to notice how all three girls sat up a little and leaned forward, eager to hear the news, more like specters at the feast, rather than showing genuine concern for their cousin.

  “Well, Madam, I am pleased to tell you that Annabelle lives, despite everything. If it were not for my carriage passing her by in the snow last night, I am afraid that the poor girl should now be past any mortal help. You will be pleased to know that she sleeps comfortably at my own house.”

  He stopped, allowing time for the news to sink in.

  Vivian Roebuck sat down in her chair—at least the shock on her face was real. She had expected the girl to be dead, yet now that she lived, she feared for her own reputation. What tales had the girl been telling Sir Henry Faversham?

  Noting the fleeting panic in the woman’s eyes, he continued.

  “You look surprised, Madam?”

  The woman struggled to gain her composure.

  “It is the relief, Sir Henry. That is all. You do not know of the agonies the girls and I have been through. None of us slept a wink last night with worry. Now, do tell us what happened.”

  Sir Henry told his side of the story quickly.

  “What I would like to know, Madam, is how the poor girl came to be walking out in such weather, and so poorly dressed. Did no one go and look for her when she did not return?”

  Vivian retold the story that Charlotte had invented at breakfast. She now talked more confidently, knowing that the girl had not yet spoken.

  “And if it had been one of your own daughters, would you have let her go out in such weather, Mrs. Roebuck? And would you have waited so long to search for her?”

  For a moment, the question threw the woman off her guard, but she quickly recovered.

  “Sir Henry, I am not sure of what you are implying, but ever since Annabelle came into this household, I have treated her as one of my own daughters. And now that my dear husband is gone, I do try my best for all of the girls. Unfortunately, Annabelle has a wild and wayward streak, just like her poor dead mother. I tried to stop her going out into the village, but she crept out without a word. We thought her up in her room sulking, and only realized when it was too late to venture out, that she had gone. I have tried my best, Sir. I have tried my best.”

  The tears now fell freely, and with a look from her mother, Charlotte rushed to her side.

  “There, there, Mama, do not cry. I am sorry, Sir Faversham, mother is quite overwrought. We have all been worried about Annabelle and it is such a relief that she is well. Do tell us when she will be coming home.”

  Henry Faversham could not bear the tears of women and shifted uneasily in his chair. The aunt’s account of her niece was at odds with the account from Jenny, and it was difficult to know what to believe. He would question the woman no longer, even though he doubted her sincerity.

  “I’m afraid Annabelle will have to stay in my home until she is better. That is the advice of the doctor. I will let you know when she is well enough for you to visit.”

  “Oh, Sir Henry, I must see Annabelle now. You must let me ride back with you. Surely it will be better for her to see a friendly face when she awakes?”

  “But what about your three daughters, Madam? Surely you cannot leave them alone?”

  “Charlotte can manage, whilst I am gone, and the servants are here. Besides, it should only be for a few days. Now, if you agree, Sir, Charlotte and I will go and prepare some items for Annabelle and for myself to see us through the next few days.”

  Reluctant to agree to such a plan, yet having no real claim on the girl, Sir Henry nodded in agreement. He could think of nothing worse than entertaining Mrs. Roebuck for a day or two, but perhaps it was best for the girl. He didn’t believe the woman’s story, but she was the girl’s aunt after all.

  Leaving the room, Vivian quickly pulled her daughter to one side.

  “I must be there when Annabelle wakes, Charlotte. Now, you must fetch one of your best nightgowns, a clean dress and slip, and a pair of shoes. It is a good thing that she is about your size.”

  Charlotte pulled a face.

  “We can hardly send Annabelle’s own clothes, Charlotte. Now stop frowning. Sir Henry is a widower, you know. Who knows where this may lead. I did notice that he was looking at you most favorably. It is a pity it was not you, rather your cousin, he found in the snow. Still, I think we can turn this to your advantage.”

  “But Mama, he is crippled and old.”

  Grabbing her daughter by the arms, Mrs. Roebuck looked at her sternly.

  “But he is a rich man, Charlotte, and has a title, and these are more important than age or infirmity. Now do as I ask.”

  5.

  There was an uncomfortable silence in the carriage on the way back to Wellington Manor. Vivian Roebuck was deep in thought, wondering how she could play out the situation to her best advantage, whilst Sir Henry scrutinized the woman’s face, trying to figure out the truth.

  As the carriage eventually came to a halt on the snow covered gravel outside the Manor House, Vivian could not help herself from emitting a small gasp. It was the first time she had seen the place up close, having only seen it from a distance for so many years. The place, with it is fine stonework and turrets, was magnificent and the woman had already started to imagine her daughter, Charlotte, as mistress.

  They were met immediately by Elsie, who looked quite agitated, because the young girl had already woken.

  “I was just about to make her some hot soup, Sir, if you think that will be all right?”

  Sir Henry nodded. “I think that will do our young guest very well indeed, Elsie. This is Annabelle’s aunt, Mrs. Roebuck. Can you see that a room is made ready for her? It will hopefully be just for the one night.”

  Annabelle had been shocked at first to wake in such strange surroundings. She had been alone in the Drawing Room, laying on the chaise lounge in front of the fire, when she awoke.

  She had been in a deep sleep, dreaming of her parents. They had been calling to her, their voices distant, almost a whisper. She had been cold, very cold. Then, she had seen a light, a bright light, with her mother waiting at the end, her face radiant and smiling. Then, the cold had disappeared and with it, the bright light and her mother. Then, she had awoken in the strange room to the ticking of a clock and the warmth of a blazing fire.

  An older woman in an apron had entered the room and made a fuss and disappeared again. Annabelle tried to lift her head, but it was too heavy and aching, so she lay still, trying to work out where she was and why. Then, she heard more voices, a man’s and a woman’s. She recognized the woman’s voice at once�
�it was her aunt Vivian.

  Suddenly, the memories came flooding back. She had been walking, there had been snow, and then darkness.

  The door opened wide, and Vivian Roebuck bustled into the room, closely followed by Sir Henry, pushed by the trusty Perkins.

  Gushing with false concern, the woman ran to where the young girl lay.

  “Dearest Annabelle. I have been so worried about you. Whatever were you thinking of setting out in such weather? You have put Sir Faversham to a great deal of trouble. But there, you are well and will be able to come home with me soon. Now you must thank Sir Faversham for his kindness.”

  Annabelle could see the look on her aunt’s face as she spoke, and knew only too well what that look meant.

  “There is no need to thank me. I am just happy that I could be of service.”

  Sir Henry’s face appeared in her sight line for the very first time. It was a rugged and a kind face, only the few grey hairs betraying his age. She was grateful. So, this was her knight in shining armor, the man who had saved her.

  She then noticed the wheelchair, and her kind heart pitied the man.

  Henry Faversham noticed the familiar look. He hated to be pitied and made his excuses to leave the room.

  Once alone with her niece, Vivian Roebuck’s look of concern immediately turned to one of displeasure, although she kept her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

  “Well, Annabelle. You have fallen on your feet here, make no mistake girl, but do not get too many ideas. You will be home soon enough. Sir Henry and I have had a long talk about you. He knows enough that you are willful and disobedient, and despite my protestations, you disobeyed me and set off on your own into the village yesterday.”

  Both knew how untrue this story was, but Annabelle was in no position to argue. She would be back at her aunt’s house soon enough, and if she told the truth, it would only makes things far worse for herself in the long-term.

  The conversation was cut short, as Elsie Shaw bustled into the room with hot soup for the girl, and tea for Mrs. Roebuck. Dr. Harris had also arrived for his afternoon visit, and whilst tea was being poured, he examined the patient.