ROSALIND: A Regency Romance (Bachelor Brides, Book 1)

by Jenny Hambly

  “So s-sorry to intrude, m-ma’am, at such a time and w-with n-no notice. S-something o-of the f-first importance to d-discuss w-with G-George, you s-see.”

  She smiled kindly at him, tactfully overlooking the irregularity of receiving visitors at such an early hour and begged him to sit down and join them if he had not already breakfasted.

  This seemed to throw him into even more confusion and his stuttering became even more pronounced than usual as he tried to explain that he had only come to see George and wouldn’t dream of intruding.

  “Well as you already have intruded, sit down and cut line,” interrupted his friend rather peremptorily. “If it is to tell me my sister is about to descend upon me, you are behind the times, my mother has just received a letter informing us of this, er, delightful, if unexpected event. Anything to do with you, John?” he enquired gently enough but he did not deceive his friend.

  “There’s n-no need to get on your h-high ropes, George,” he protested. “I h-had n-no intention of opening my b-budget about w-what happened, b-but th-that dashed s-sister of yours would g-get blood out of a stone!” He paused to take a deep draught of ale from the mug that had been placed unobtrusively before him. “And t-to think I’ve h-hurried h-here as fast as p-possible to w-warn you, th-though why it m-matters is beyond me! B-but you s-seemed very set on it s-staying m-mum s-so I thought I had better come.”

  It was apparent that Lord Preeve was quite upset, not only was his colour considerably heightened but any of those intimately acquainted with him could have vouchsafed that it was very rare thing for him to breach the bounds of propriety by turning up uninvited and at such an hour or to make such a long speech all in one go.

  Lord Atherton softened. “Never mind, John, Belle wheedle it out of you did she? I had hoped you might have avoided her as she is not going to formal parties just at present.”

  “Hyde Park,” he explained. “And if y-you think I’m such a, a r-rudesby to c-cut one of m-my closest friends’ s-sisters, y-you’re all about in y-your head.”

  “No, no my dear fellow, not cut, but perhaps pretend you had not seen her?”

  “W-well there was no chance of that, not w-with her all but jumping up and down to g-get my attention. H-had s-some dashed odd-looking f-female with her, h-had a squint, v-very awkward, d-didn’t know if she was l-looking at me or my h-horse.”

  Any residual tension in the room fled before the laughter that swiftly followed this tangled speech.

  The earl racked his brains for a moment. “Probably a Miss Mowbray, she seems to be the latest oddball taken up by Belle.”

  “Y-yes, that r-rings a bell, b-but the thing is I w-was unaware th-that Lady Hayward didn’t know you were b-bringing L-lady Rosalind d-down and w-when I mentioned th-that I h-had m-met her, there w-was no satisfying her until she h-had the whole t-tale out of me.”

  The earl could only be grateful that Lord Preeve was unaware of the whole tale.

  “Poor John. And was Miss Mowbray present to hear it?” asked the earl with some foreboding for if so there was no doubt it would be all over town by now.

  “Now r-really George, I m-may not be as needle-witted as some, b-but I’m not such a knock in the c-cradle as that,” he assured him. “I-I drew her aside and m-made sure she realised you didn’t want it b-bandied about.”

  Lord Atherton dropped his head in his hands. “It wanted only that!”

  It was left to Lady Atherton to settle Lord Preeve’s ruffled feathers, telling him he could not be held to blame, that it was no very great matter after all and that he was very welcome. She also extended an invitation for him to stay. “It seems we are to be a house party so you may as well.” She then invited Rosalind to help her gather some flowers for the house, noticing how quiet and uncomfortable she had begun to look. She snipped and Rosalind carried the basket, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

  “Do not be in a worry, my dear,” she said gently. “It is a shame we are to be quite so inundated before you have had time to properly find your feet but you would have had to meet them all sooner or later.”

  “But ma’am they are all coming to look at me,” she said anxiously.

  Lady Atherton nodded her understanding. “It is true of course but they know no more than you are come to visit me after all. I will tell them I invited you, for you know I might well have if I had fully understood your circumstances and you may be sure they are not so rag mannered that they will pry too closely into them.”

  “Not even Belle?” Rosalind said, smiling despite herself. She had by now formed an image of a bouncing, lively and very inquisitive girl.

  “Not even Belle, for I will inform her that you too are in mourning and so she mustn’t inquire too closely. That puts me in mind of something, although I own it is refreshing to see someone not garbed in this hideous colour, we must provide you with some mourning clothes.”

  Rosalind coloured. “Yes ma’am, I have only the one mourning dress and it is a trifle shabby I’m afraid, although I have been trying to wear darker colours than usual.”

  “Don’t give it a thought my dear, whilst it was only us it mattered not a jot, but we don’t want to give rise to any more talk than necessary. I ordered far too much material for my own mourning, so we will put it to good use. Farrow, my abigail, is a very talented seamstress and between us we will have it sorted in a trice.” She paused, shaking her head. “It is a shame we have to bow so much to convention, my poor Frederick would turn in his grave to see us all decked out like a flock of crows.”

  “You must miss him terribly,” Rosalind murmured shyly.

  Lady Atherton smiled mistily. “Yes, it is so very strange not to have his large, gruff presence around the place. He was not always an easy man, like most he liked to have his own way and always thought he was right, but he was a caring husband and proud father, although he didn’t always show it. He and George in particular were always coming to cuffs.” She shook her head as if in doing so she would dislodge unpleasant thoughts. “It had been sadly flat here until your arrival and it will be nice to have the house full again.”

  Rosalind privately thought it quite selfish that Lady Atherton’s children had left her alone at such a time and although she felt apprehensive about their arrival she felt pleased that she was in some way instrumental in bringing the family back together again. It was the least she could do for Lady Atherton who had been so very kind to her.

  Most of the rest of the day was taken up with Farrow taking measurements and discussing the styles appropriate to such a young lady as herself. She might have expected to find Farrow resentful to have to wait on her, but she was pleasantly surprised to find this lady not only accommodating but also quite maternal towards her. She did not know how much of her story Lady Atherton had revealed to her but she certainly did not turn her nose up at her lack of stylish mourning clothes. Little did it occur to her, that her strange mix of shy reserve together with a lack of condescension, portrayed her very much as the lady, not to mention the fact that she had such a good willowy figure and arresting face that it could not but add to Farrow’s consequence to turn her out in fine style. Farrow had been with her mistress for many years and if Lady Rosalind had been seen to be adding to her burdens she would have had a very different reception, but it was plain to everyone that Lady Atherton had perked up considerably since her arrival and so she was deserving of respect.

  The day the rest of the family were expected Lady Atherton caught Rosalind gazing wistfully out of the window.

  “Is anything amiss, my dear?” she enquired.

  “Oh no, of course not, indeed I cannot remember when I have been so comfortable,” Rosalind hastily assured her. “It is only...” She hesitated, uncertain how to convey how the open parkland and countryside beyond made her realise how very confined her life had recently been.

  “Only?” encouraged Lady Atherton.

  Rosalind smiled. “Lucy, Mrs Prowett, called me a hoyden, because I was used to have the freedom t
o wander all over our estate. But I have always loved to be outside and although I have enjoyed wandering the gardens...” She trailed off, naturally reticent to give any suggestion of unhappiness with her situation.

  Lady Atherton smiled her understanding. “You are feeling a trifle hedged in? You are so young and have so much natural energy I am not surprised. Do you perhaps ride?”

  Rosalind’s expressive eyes suddenly burned with desire, causing Lady Atherton to laugh. “Of course you do! Have you a riding habit with you?”

  Holding her breath, Rosalind nodded.

  “Then you shall take my own mare out, she will be a trifle fresh but I am sure you won’t regard that in the least.”

  “Oh, you are so very very good,” Rosalind burst out.

  Lady Atherton pinched her cheek. “Don’t be so nonsensical, child, now hurry up and change whilst I send a message to the stables, my groom Henchcombe will accompany you.”

  Rosalind hastily summoned Mary to help her into her habit. It was of a masculine severe cut in black but with an amber braid around the collar, front and hem. It suited her long slender form to perfection, not that she ever considered that, to her it was comfortable and serviceable.

  She found a beautiful grey mare waiting for her, sidling a little as the stable boy held her. She stroked her head and offered her a sugar lump, murmuring softly to her all the time, “There, my beauty, we both need a run don’t we?”

  Henchcombe came forward to help her up into the saddle and offered her some advice whilst he lengthened the girth for her. “She’s as fresh as a daisy, miss, so just take it easy until you get acquainted, like,” he advised gruffly.

  She followed his advice until they were out of sight of the house, but then the long tree-lined avenue that led through the park beckoned and she broke into a canter, then a gallop, a laugh of sheer joy escaping her as she felt the smooth power of the mare flying beneath her. By the time she drew rein a firm understanding had been reached between her and her mount and her wide smile went some way to taking the sting out of Henchcombe’s protestations.

  “You’ve a fine seat, miss, and no mistake but if it’s all the same to you I’d be a mite happier if now that you have galloped her fidgets out you’d let me lead, being as you don’t know this country yet and my lady wouldn’t thank me if I was to bring you home on a stretcher!”

  She laughed at such a suggestion but beyond asking him to take her on a good run across country was content to follow his lead. The mare jumped well off her hocks and it was just as she neatly cleared a hedge into a pleasant meadow that something caught her eye. It was not unusual to see a plume of smoke in the country, but this one rose into the sky like an accusing black finger. Henchcombe had noticed it too, and there was a gathering frown on his brow.

  “That looks nasty, miss, and if I’m not much mistaken one of His Lordship’s tenants has a cottage in that direction, we better put ‘em to but be wary o’ rabbit holes.”

  The smoke was about a quarter of a mile away; they had to skirt around the edge of a hayfield but after that made quick progress. The back of the cottage was ablaze but fortunately the roof was slate, not thatch, so it had not become an inferno. The small back garden ran down to a brook and there were six farm hands forming a line to pass up water in buckets. Jumping quickly off his gelding, Henchcombe gave the reins into the hands of one of two frightened looking small boys and bade miss wait where she was. However, Rosalind was close behind him, how could he think she would stand by when clearly every hand available was needed? Apart from muttering something under his breath about shades of Miss Belle, he raised no more fuss. It was hard work, the buckets were as full as they could hold and subsequently heavy but it soon became clear they were winning. Before too long, only ugly black smoke belched through the kitchen windows. A clatter of hooves was heard on the lane and in a few moments Lord Atherton came striding around the side of the house.

  He sent her a swift, keen glance as she stood stretching out her aching back but then turned back to the small group that had gathered around him.

  “Was anyone hurt, Jenkins?” he asked a middle- aged man in a smock.

  He shook his blackened face. “No, thank the lord, the missus had taken the boys down to milk the cows.” He nodded in the direction of a barn in a field on the other side of the stream. “And the rest of us were working two fields over.”

  He nodded briefly before heading over to Rosalind. “I should have expected to find you here I suppose,” he said curtly. “I can’t decide if trouble finds you or you find trouble!”

  She gasped at the harshness of his words and found her indignation rising. He cast a jaundiced eye in the direction of Henchcombe who was hovering in the vicinity. “I’ll have words with you later,” he snapped. “For now see Lady Rosalind safely home whilst I see what can be done here.”

  Jenkins had come slowly towards them as he vented his spleen. “Excuse me, sir, but I haven’t had time to thank miss and Henchcombe yet, it was hard going with only a few us milord, and it was them arrivin’ in the nick of time that turned the tide.”

  Rosalind, turning her back on Lord Atherton, gave him a friendly smile and said that she was glad to have been able to help and only very much hoped not too much damage had been done.

  “Well, miss, it’s mainly the kitchin, but how it could o’ started has me in confusion.”

  Lord Atherton looked thoughtful and then asked Rosalind to wait a moment. He headed back to the house and disappeared through the charred remains of the kitchen door. He picked up a small jar that was laid on its side and gave it a sniff and glanced at a thin snakelike trail that still showed on the blackened floor. He stood inside the still smoking blackened kitchen only for a few moments, but it was enough. Stepping back outside, he called to Jenkins a frown between his eyes. “Do you use whale oil?” he asked him.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, he started to laugh which induced him to start coughing. The wheezy chuckles caused tears to leave a whitened trail through the soot on his weathered face. “Lord bless you, gov’ner, as if I would waste the readies on such a luxury even if I could. Tallow does us, sir, or a rush light or two.”

  “And had you any gunpowder about the place?”

  As Jenkins replied in the negative his frown deepened. “I’ll send some men over to start sorting this mess immediately,” he said. “Have you somewhere you and your family can stay for a few days until we make it habitable again?”

  Jenkins assured him they had and thanked him for his consideration.

  “Henchcombe, ride on ahead and let my mother know what has occurred, she will wish to send some provisions for the family. I will escort Lady Rosalind.”

  “To make sure I don’t find any more trouble?” she challenged him, her eyes burning with resentment.

  Henchcombe walked off, his face wooden.

  Lord Atherton didn’t choose to respond until he had thrown her up into the saddle and mounted himself.

  “I suppose it never occurred to you that you were putting yourself in danger?” he said, speaking through his teeth. “But no, you thrive on it don’t you? What Henchcombe was thinking to allow you to involve yourself in the business is beyond me!”

  Feeling this was grossly unjust she hastily defended herself and the poor groom. “I was never in any danger! I never went anywhere near the blaze and as for Henchcombe, he asked me to wait,” she began but was rudely interrupted.

  “And of course you didn’t listen...” He broke off abruptly as he realised he was talking to thin air, for the lady he had impetuously taken under his protection had given her mare her head and as he watched with reluctant admiration, she took the hedge that would lead her most directly back to Atherton without pause.

  “Hell and the devil confound her,” he muttered even as he gave chase.

  She was as fearless and as reckless in the saddle as she was when confronted with danger and it was not until they reached the park that he drew abreast of her, then he
reached over and grabbed her reins in an iron fist, bringing her to a not very dignified halt.

  “Let me go,” she hissed at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

  “In a moment,” he bit out, “you will take a hold of that temper, you little cat, and remember that you are a guest in my and my mother’s house. If you have so little conduct that you wish to give rise to all sorts of gossip by riding in as if the devil and all his minions were after you, I do not.”

  Although she knew she was behaving badly, she could not back down. “Why is it that you take every opportunity offered to put me in the wrong when all I was trying to do was help?”

  At that moment, the unmistakable sound of an approaching carriage saved him answering a question that he would have found awkward to answer. He barely had time to direct them both onto the grass before not one, but two carriages swept around the bend in the drive. One carried on towards the house but the other drew up a little ahead of them, and even before it had come to a halt, its window was thrust down and a head, topped with a fetching bonnet poked through.

  “Hello big brother,” said Lady Hayward, grinning engagingly at them.

  He rode forward immediately, Rosalind trailing a little in his wake as he greeted his youngest sister. Rosalind saw that she shared his eyes, but where his too often had a steely glint to them, hers shone with an engaging liveliness.

  “Oh I am so glad you ride,” she said to Lady Rosalind, smiling saucily. “I can show you all my old haunts.”

  Rosalind noticed the way Lord Atherton cast his eyes up to the skies and instantly said she would be delighted to discover them.

  Belle’s smile widened as she drew her head back into the carriage. She had not failed to note Lady Rosalind’s heightened colour or the tension that seemed to exist between her and George. Interesting, very interesting. She had a feeling this visit was going to be fun.

  As they made their more sedate way towards the stables, Lord Atherton looked distracted.

  “Belle is a sad romp,” he finally said. “She is not much older than you and has a habit of falling into all manner of scrapes, as you know. She will naturally seek out your company as you are the nearest to her in age and as she is incurably inquisitive and also I might add, shockingly indiscreet.” He paused as if trying to pick his words carefully for a change.