Of course, he also wanted to know more of Lady Rose, and her opinions on recent research. From what she had said, it seemed likely that she had actually corresponded with a number of prominent scientists on the matter, or at least read their papers. The fact that he wanted to see her, simply for the sake of seeing her, was something that he pushed away from his thoughts. She was the daughter of a Duke, and thus not really in his social stratum – he should not delude himself that anything beyond conversation would ever be possible.
He dressed with particular care, much to Hugh’s amusement, and, as the day was sunny and beautiful, he drove himself in his phaeton. It was odd, now that he thought about it, that even though he lived but a half hour’s drive from Chester Park, he had so rarely been in that part of the country. He supposed that it was a result of the people who had been in his parents’ circle of friends, as he was growing up – they all lived in quite the opposite direction. And now, his major ice houses were located in the opposite direction too.
Upon approaching Chester Park, he was beset with a sudden acute nervousness – what if the ladies were not interested in furthering the conversation? After all, it was about trade, and most of the ton looked down on a man who sullied his hands with trade. Still, they had not seemed to regard it that way, at the wedding breakfast…
He handed the horses and phaeton off to the groom summoned by the footman who waited at the front of the house, and went to the door, which opened before he reached it. The butler thus revealed looked at him enquiringly. Evan handed him his calling card.
“Might Lady Wareham, and Lady Rose Gardenbrook, be in, and willing to see me?”
“I will enquire. Please do come in, my Lord.”
Evan waited in the rather imposing foyer as the butler hurried off into the depths of the house. The walls featured landscapes and hunting prints, rather typical of a country estate. Soon the butler returned, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.
“If you would follow me, Lord Wrenton.”
He was shown into a pleasant parlour, which was decorated in burgundy and cream, with timber panelled lower parts to the walls. The sun streamed through a large window, and the two ladies he had come to see were seated on a couch which was placed to take full advantage of that sunlight. Sunlight which caught Lady Rose’s soft pale gold hair and turned it to a dazzling halo, which made her look even more beautiful than he remembered her as. They both stood as he entered, and came to greet him.
“Lord Wrenton, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“As it is to see you, ladies.” He bowed over each hand, and the touch of Lady Rose’s fingers sent warmth through him in quite an alarming manner. “I hope that you can forgive me for appearing like this, without warning? I fear that our conversation at the wedding breakfast was so fascinating that I could not stay away.”
Lady Rose laughed – a soft, melodic sound, resonant and delicate at once.
“My Lord, you are a most unusual man. I have never before been sought out specifically for the purpose of indulging in intellectual conversation! Most men of my acquaintance count a lady with such interests as anathema.”
“I must confess that I have never understood why men wish the women they spend time with to be lacking depth in their conversational topics. I far prefer to be able to have a discussion with some strength to it… Even so, I suspect that my reaction is at least partially moderated by the fact that not one in one hundred people have the slightest interest in refrigeration…”
She laughed again, shaking her head.
“I would agree. Indeed, I believe that you are the first person I have met, who knows more on the matter than I do. It is as if people want their food to simply magically appear, and have no care for how that is achieved.”
Lady Wareham smiled at both of them, shaking her head slightly.
“If we are to become engrossed in conversation again, we should at least be seated – and call for tea.”
So saying, she rang for a maid and, as Lady Rose and Evan seated themselves, she instructed the maid to bring tea and cakes. Without thinking, Evan had seated himself beside Lady Rose on the couch. He flushed as Lady Wareham turned back, and observed this with an amused smile, but what was done was done.
Lady Wareham dropped into the armchair opposite them.
“Lord Wrenton, I must assume that there are some specific things you would like to discuss?”
“Indeed, Lady Wareham, there are. I particularly wanted to ask you to tell me more about your reasons for wishing to be able to refrigerate medicines. For it has occurred to me that, if you wish to, perhaps apothecaries would wish to do so as well?”
Evan felt rather odd, asking such a question of a lady, but she seemed not the least discomposed by it. He glanced sideways to Lady Rose, acutely aware of the warmth of her by his side. She seemed as eager to hear Lady Wareham’s answer as he was, which reminded him, again, of just how unusual she was.
At that moment, a maid arrived with the tea and cakes.
They fell silent as Lady Wareham poured and passed cups and the plate of cakes to them. Once the maid had gone, and Lady Wareham had sipped her tea, she set the cup down on the small table beside her, and turned her attention back to him.
“Lord Wrenton, I do not know how much you understand of the way in which medicinal possets and tisanes are made, so, for utility’s sake, I will start by explaining that, at least to a minimal level. Most medicines – at least of the more benevolent kind – are made from plants in one way or another, and, like food made from plants, if not made the right way, or stored the right way, can go off – can be infested with rot, and become poisonous. So keeping both the ingredients and the final products cool can be the difference between something being beneficial, and something becoming poison.”
Evan considered her words – and instantly felt that his initial assessment of the business potential inherent in the idea had been right.
“How do people deal with that now?”
“Usually by using deep cellars, or storing things in shaded places which have good amounts of air flowing through them. Of course, keeping things cool is far easier in winter than in summer.”
<<<< O >>>>
Rose felt rather dizzy. The close proximity of Lord Wrenton was intoxicating enough to distract her, at least a little, even from a conversation so fascinating as this one. That he had chosen to call, as he had said he would, was remarkable enough, but that he had done so to continue speaking of the science of food preservation was quite confounding.
There was, deep in her thoughts, a part of Rose which was disappointed with the fact that he seemed only interested in conversation, rather than in her, specifically, but she pushed that feeling aside. To have found a person with whom she could converse like this was wonderful in itself – she should not be so foolish as to hope for more.
Still, as she looked at him, the sunlight casting his handsome profile into golden splendour, his face animated by his great enthusiasm for the topic, her heart beat faster, and her mouth felt unaccountably dry. She listened as he discussed medicines with Maria, and realised that much of what she had learned in the last few years, about food preservation, would be useful for Maria, and, in some part, was likely information that Lord Wrenton did not have either.
But could she provide him that information? Given that it had come into her possession as the result of a correspondence which she could not readily admit to, a correspondence between several noted researchers in the field of refrigeration, and a certain ‘R. Gardenbrook’. Those letters, when they arrived at Elbury House via her personal man of business, were handed to Rose by their butler, and were not seen by anyone else. She was utterly grateful that Marks had chosen to be complicit in her secret, but now, for the first time, she wished that it need not be a secret at all.
Yet she knew, of a certainty, that no respected scientist would have corresponded on such serious matters with a woman, so the deception had been necessary. Surely, there mus
t be a way to speak of the content of that correspondence with Lord Wrenton, without revealing how she had come by the knowledge?
She would have to consider it carefully – she was not brave enough, today, to reveal just how much she knew – but she could ask questions about what he knew, and what he thought of recent research.
Over the course of the afternoon, she proceeded to do so, and, whilst she learnt a great deal about the practical aspects of the ice house business, and keeping foods cool to extend their useable life by traditional methods, it became apparent to her that she actually knew more about the latest research than Lord Wrenton did.
Which was rather disconcerting, to say the least.
Eventually, after promising to call again soon, Lord Wrenton departed, leaving Rose feeling almost bereft. She had enjoyed his presence, as well as his conversation, and felt oddly as if everything was somehow dulled now that he had left. Maria looked at her, and quirked an eyebrow in enquiry. Rose shook her head, unsure what to say.
“Shall I call for more tea and cakes, Rose? You look rather… disconsolate.”
Rose forced a bright smile to her face.
“I so rarely get the chance to indulge in a conversation of an intellectual nature, on a topic that I care about, that it is almost exhausting.”
Maria looked unconvinced, but nodded.
“I imagine it is. It was a long time before I dared talk to anyone about the possets and tonics I make. But… forgive me if this is too personal… am I right in sensing that you find Lord Wrenton interesting as a person, as well as for his conversation?”
Rose felt herself blush, and cursed inwardly. Could she trust Maria not to tell her siblings? After all, she did not know Maria well, even if they had interests in common. Somehow, as she thought of it, she became sure that she could trust her. Hesitantly, she gave a slight nod of her head.
“Aaah… I do, in a way. It is presumptuous of me to even think that he might find me interesting, but I would not be disappointed if that were the case. But… oh please, do not tell my sisters, or especially my brother…”
Kevin and Hyacinth had gone to the nearest town that afternoon, so that Hyacinth might meet the shopkeepers who supplied Chester Park, and Rose’s other sisters and her brother had accompanied them, all feeling the need for an afternoon away from the rather mournful air of Chester Park, where Lord Chester’s illness cast a pall over the mood. Rose had chosen not to accompany them, after a fitful night of poor sleep.
Now, she was so very glad that she had not gone with them, for she would not have seen Lord Wrenton if she had.
“Oh? Not that I will tell them, if you wish me not to say anything, but… why is it so important that I don’t?”
Rose blushed again, and gave Maria a rueful smile.
“As you have a sister and a brother, I hope that you will understand… as a family, we are prone to teasing each other… good naturedly, usually… but I do not think I could bear it. If they knew that I had the slightest real interest in any man, Thorne, especially, would tease me unmercifully.”
Maria laughed – a happy and commiserating sound – and Rose felt somewhat better.
“Oh yes, I do understand. Kevin teased both of us horribly when we were younger – but then, we teased him too. I promise not to say anything. And, if the chance presents itself, I will help you see Lord Wrenton again – if you like him, there is nothing wrong with exploring the possibilities...”
The new tray of tea arrived, and they turned the conversation to other things – just in time, for the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel outside soon indicated that the others had arrived home from their excursion. As they surged into the parlour, Rose found herself wondering how best she might discover more about Lord Wrenton’s business, without her enquiries seeming out of place. If she was going to present him, carefully, with information which might help him, it was best that she first understood the challenges he faced.
<<<< O >>>>
As Evan drove away from Chester Park, he marvelled again at how easy it was to talk to Lady Rose. To be at ease with her seemed completely natural, and yet, at the same time, he was acutely aware of her, for every moment that he spent in her presence. Sitting beside her, he had, again and again, felt the temptation to reach out and touch her, and his head had positively spun from the scent of her.
Most ladies wore scents such as lavender or rose – which one might have expected from a woman named Rose… but Lady Rose wore a scent which contained elements of exotic vanilla, cinnamon, and some other spices he could not quite identify. The whole effect was to bring to mind the scents of a kitchen, in which the most delicious and expensive cakes and biscuits were prepared.
A more appealing scent he could not imagine!
But as appealing as it was, it was equally distracting – he wondered that he had managed to converse sensibly at all.
Still, the conversation had given him much food for thought and further investigation, and the hope that the new knowledge he was gaining might lead to a whole new branch of his business, in support of apothecaries and physicians.
Chapter Three
The following morning, Rose woke suddenly, startled, and unsure of what had roused her. Then, moments later, a terrible sound rent the air. Her heart sank – she was quite certain what that sound portended. It was a wail of utter grief.
It seemed most likely that Lord Chester, who had been desperately ill for some time had, now that he had seen his son married and happy, finally let go his grip on life, and slipped away in the night. She rose hurriedly, ringing for her maid to help her dress, and pulled out her simplest day dress, then sat before the mirror to brush her hair into order. Millie came rushing in, looking flustered and distressed.
“Oh my Lady, I am so sorry! The house is in uproar. I believe poor Lord Chester has gone to God. Here, let me do your hair for you, then we’ll have you dressed in a few minutes. Thank you so much for selecting a dress!”
Rose let Millie fuss over her, her mind in an odd kind of turmoil. She had not known Lord Chester long, but she had liked him. For him to be gone so soon seemed bitterly unfair.
And then, as she went out of her room, and up the hallway towards the sounds, it struck her. Kevin was now Lord Chester, which made Hyacinth Lady Chester. The grief-stricken wail was undoubtedly the Dowager Lady Chester. And all of that meant that Hyacinth would be expected to do… well… everything, while Lord Chester’s closest family came to terms with his loss.
Rose swallowed – did Hyacinth know what to do? She wasn’t sure, but if any of her sisters was well suited to dealing with challenge, it was Hyacinth. And they would all help – that was what their family did, no matter how much they teased each other.
She reached the area outside Lord Chester’s rooms, just as Kevin, Maria and Nerissa almost carried their mother out and away towards her private parlour. Hyacinth appeared in the doorway a moment later, and Rose knew, instantly, that Hyacinth was momentarily on the edge of panic. But, before she had the chance to reach out, to do or say anything, Hyacinth took a very deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and began directing the servants, and everyone else, almost as if she had been doing so for years.
Rose had never felt in awe of her sister before, but in that moment, she did.
<<<
The funeral was a sombre affair, as such thing generally are, but it demonstrated very clearly how well-respected Lord Chester had been, throughout the county. Large numbers of people had come to pay their last respects, and it was generally acknowledged that Lord Chester had lived his life well.
Evan stood to one side, watching them all, his heart aching especially for Lady Wareham – for he had come to feel as if he knew her well, just through those few conversations, and could see how deeply she mourned her father. Lady Rose stood with all of her family, and he could see that she was calm, yet rather exhausted and drawn looking. His memories of his own father’s passing swamped him, and the grief which had begun to fade
was suddenly overwhelming again.
At that moment, as he swallowed, and blinked, willing himself not to allow tears to fall, Lady Rose looked up, and met his eyes. She gave him the tiniest smile, but understanding shone in her hazel eyes. Perhaps he imagined it, but the idea that she might comprehend his private grief eased him. He nodded, then turned his gaze back to the solemn ceremony before him.
He did not know how he would be able to do so, but he knew that, somehow, despite the mourning at Chester Park, he had to see her again, before her family returned to their London home.
<<<
At the funeral, Rose had watched everyone, seeing so many different manifestations of grief, and understanding how many people Lord Chester had touched in his life. It still seemed impossible that he was gone, and so soon after Kevin and Hyacinth’s wedding, yet he was.
Lord Wrenton had been there, and she had wanted to speak to him, but to do so would not have been appropriate. At one point she had met his eyes, and he had nodded.
It was, she had to accept, the most that might be possible in such a circumstance. But his expression… she had remembered, then, that in their conversation at the wedding breakfast, he had mentioned the fact that his own father’s death was but two years gone. For a moment, as they had looked at each other, she had seen a man deep in his own grief. His expression had been like Kevin’s had been, since the moment they had discovered Lord Chester’s death.
Perhaps Lord Wrenton still grieved. That expression had made her wish to rush to him, to take him into her arms, and console him. Of course, she could do no such thing. But she had wanted to. And then, after the funeral, there had been a wake of sorts – a gathering back at Chester Park, where everyone ate and drank, and spoke of Lord Chester’s life and achievements.
A Bluestocking for a Baron : Book 3: Rose: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 2
