Anne Herries

by Rosalynand the Scoundrel

  She looked up at the sky, noticing that it was becoming overcast. The weather had been kind these past few days, but it looked as if they might be in for a storm. If it threatened to rain, she would send Jared home in the carriage. In the meantime, she must not dawdle here.

  Freddie was due to arrive at any moment. He had sent a groom ahead to warn them, which was so unlike him that his sister had begun to suspect that his guests were even more important than she had imagined.

  Rosalyn glanced at herself in a heavy, gilt-framed mirror on the wall, patting a stray hair into place. She had drawn her thick hair back into a neat chignon, allowing a few tendrils to fall about her face. It was perhaps a rather severe style, but it suited her as curls and ringlets would not, framing a face that had its own special beauty but was not pretty in the accepted sense. Her pale grey gown clung lovingly to her statuesque figure in a way that, had her likeness been taken at that moment, would have made her a perfect model for Queen Boadicea at the reins of her war chariot. There was something bold and fine about Rosalyn, something that was at odds with her status as a spinster.

  Of course, none of this was apparent to Rosalyn herself. She saw a woman who was dressed plainly, not in the first stare of fashion, but certainly respectable, which was all she required. She turned her head as she heard running footsteps and Maria came rushing up the stairs.

  ‘They have just arrived,’ Maria said, a little breathlessly. ‘I saw them from the parlour window and thought you would want to know.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Rosalyn said. For some reason her heart had started to beat rapidly and she was nervous. ‘I was about to come down. Take your time, Maria, get your breath back.’

  ‘I shall follow you at once,’ said Maria. ‘I should not want to be backward in any attention to dear Sir Frederick. Besides, I dare say you have not thought, dearest—but he may have a special reason for bringing guests. Two ladies, you know.’

  She gave Rosalyn such an arch look that it was all she could do not to make a cutting remark. A mere irritation of the nerves, of course. It could make no difference to Rosalyn if her brother married. After their father’s death, Freddie had agreed that the Cambridgeshire estate would always be his sister’s home.

  ‘I’ve never particularly liked the place, as you know,’ he had said, grinning at her. ‘It suits me to have you live here, Ros—and it is what Father would have wanted.’

  Her father ought, of course, to have made some provision in his will, other than the trust fund he had set up years earlier to give her financial independence. If he had expected to die he would no doubt have made it plain that he wanted Rosalyn to have a life tenancy of her home, but his illness had struck so suddenly, and he had been in such distress, that he must have forgotten that everything would to go to his son.

  Such arrangements were quite normal. Daughters were expected to marry and leave home—or live as dependents in the house of a brother or close relative.

  Rosalyn could not imagine having to live as the dependent relative of anyone, even her brother, whom she loved very much. She was used to running her household to suit herself, for she had done much as she liked even before her father’s death.

  But Freddie would not want to bring his wife here! Rosalyn reassured herself. Of course he wouldn’t. If he was thinking of marriage—and that wasn’t sure yet—he would continue to live in London and Devon as he did now. He did not particularly care for the country, except during the hunting season.

  Rosalyn shook off her vague doubts. She was halfway down the stairs when Freddie and his guests entered the house, which gave her a moment to study the ladies before they noticed her.

  The younger of the two was a tiny little thing, very delicate and fragile in appearance, with golden ringlets and a perfect rose complexion. She was, Rosalyn thought, the prettiest young lady she had ever seen. Her companion, however, was a rather stout, cross-looking woman with a fussy hairstyle more suited to a young girl and frosty grey eyes.

  Those eyes were staring up at her, Rosalyn realised, and they were distinctly hostile.

  ‘Freddie!’ she cried and hurried down the last few stairs. ‘How lovely to see you, dearest.’

  ‘Ros!’ Her brother took two huge strides towards her, embracing her in a bear hug. ‘It’s been too long, I know. Forgive me?’ His grey eyes looked into hers. ‘I shouldn’t have neglected you.’

  ‘You haven’t,’ she replied, smiling at him. ‘But you are neglecting your guests. Pray introduce me.’

  ‘What an idiot I am!’ Sir Frederick turned to the older woman, a flicker of something in his eyes…something his sister thought might be a mixture of both respect and dislike. ‘This is Mrs Jenkins, Ros—ma’am, my sister, Miss Rosalyn Eastleigh.’

  ‘We have heard so much about you,’ the woman said in a high, false tone. ‘We have been longing to meet you—isn’t that so, Beatrice?’

  ‘And this…’ said Freddie, ignoring her as he took the young lady’s hand and drew her forward. ‘This is Miss Beatrice Holland. Say hello to Ros, dearest.’

  ‘Miss Eastleigh.’ Miss Holland blushed and curtsied, giving Rosalyn a shy smile. ‘We are so very happy to be here. I do hope we have not caused a great deal of trouble for you?’

  ‘Of course not—’ Rosalyn began but was interrupted by Mrs Jenkins.

  ‘Of course it is no trouble, Beatrice,’ she said. ‘Miss Eastleigh must always be happy to entertain her brother’s guests in his house.’

  ‘Aunt Patricia…’ Beatrice said, her colour deepening in acute embarrassment. ‘Please…’

  ‘Mrs Jenkins is perfectly right,’ Rosalyn said easily. ‘I am always happy to entertain Freddie’s guests.’ She turned her steady gaze on her brother. ‘Freddie, I think perhaps you have something important to tell me? But we should go into the parlour.’ She frowned, then looked back at the older woman. ‘Mrs Jenkins, you must be tired from your journey. My cousin will take you up to your room at once. Maria, please look after Mrs Jenkins for me! We shall all meet again very soon.’ She smiled at her brother and the pretty but nervous child, whose hand he was clutching with such determination. ‘Freddie, won’t you bring Miss Holland into my parlour now?’

  From the indignant expression in Mrs Jenkins’ eyes it was clear that she thought Rosalyn’s behaviour high-handed, but Freddie was quick to respond, giving his undivided attention to Beatrice as the housekeeper helped her off with her pelisse and bonnet. Seeing that she could not count on his support, Mrs Jenkins went away with Maria, who was fluttering around her and trying very hard to soothe the feathers Rosalyn had so clearly ruffled.

  ‘So you guessed at once,’ Freddie said, looking at his sister in some apprehension. He had always been slightly in awe of his elder sister, who was his equal in height and, he sometimes thought, his superior in everything else. ‘I suspected you might. I suppose I should have told you, but—’

  ‘There was no need,’ Rosalyn cut short his apology. ‘I am delighted to welcome Miss Holland here—and though you still have not told me, I suspect you mean to marry her?’

  ‘Oh, Freddie.’ Beatrice looked at him with big, reproachful eyes. ‘You did promise to tell Miss Eastleigh before we came down. I am so sorry…he did promise, honestly.’

  ‘Well, now he has done so,’ Rosalyn said giving her a warm smile. ‘And I am delighted, of course. You are very welcome here, my dear Beatrice. I may call you that, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Beatrice dimpled, looking shy. ‘You really don’t mind, Miss Eastleigh?’

  ‘Only that you call me Miss Eastleigh, when I would prefer us to be friends…Rosalyn, please.’ Rosalyn moved towards her, taking her hands and kissing her cheek. ‘So pretty. You are very lucky, Freddie. I hope you appreciate your good fortune?’

  ‘Rather,’ Freddie replied with such a besotted look at his fiancée that Rosalyn knew he was head over heels in love with her. ‘They were all after Bea—all the fellows in town—but she preferred me. I can’t imagine why. I�
�m not much of a catch compared to Lord Hamilton or Devonshire.’

  ‘You silly thing!’ cried Beatrice and immediately endeared herself to Rosalyn. ‘I wasn’t in love with either of them. Aunt Patricia did think I ought to have accepted the Duke…but I really couldn’t. Not once you had shown a preference for me.’ She gave Rosalyn a shy smile. ‘I wasn’t sure Freddie even liked me at first.’

  ‘You must have known?’ Freddie said, looking incredulous.

  She shook her head. ‘No, not at first…not until the masked ball when we went on to the balcony and…’ She blushed and looked uncertainly at Rosalyn. ‘You will think me very forward to have let Freddie kiss me before we were engaged, but I had been wishing he would give me some sort of a sign and—’

  She broke off as her aunt came bustling into the room, Maria trailing unhappily behind her. It was clear that Mrs Jenkins was not willing to be denied any longer.

  ‘So, my dear?’ She turned her baleful eyes on Beatrice. ‘Is it all settled then? Miss Eastleigh knows you are to marry Sir Frederick?’

  ‘Yes, Aunt.’

  ‘Good…’ Mrs Jenkins gave Rosalyn what could hardly be called anything other than a glare. ‘I wanted to announce it before we left London, but Sir Frederick insisted you must be told first.’

  A cold dislike for the woman settled in Rosalyn’s breast. There was surely no need for her belligerent attitude?

  ‘There was no hurry for that, surely? You do not imagine that my brother would cry off at the last moment, I hope?’ She had the satisfaction of seeing Mrs Jenkins turn pale. ‘I am very glad Beatrice and Freddie came to tell me themselves. I admit I should have been distressed to read of it in The Times. And I fear Freddie has never been much of a letter writer.’

  ‘I thought we could give a few parties, Ros?’ Freddie was looking at her gratefully. ‘Introduce Beatrice to the neighbours—’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Mrs Jenkins put in before Rosalyn could answer. ‘Since Beatrice will be living here after you return from your honeymoon, it will be much better if she makes a few friends first.’

  Rosalyn saw the look of discomfort in her brother’s face. He was clearly angry with Mrs Jenkins for coming out with the news in such a way, but his guilty expression told her that it was indeed his intention to bring his bride here. Rosalyn’s heart sank, though she tried not to show she was disturbed.

  ‘Then it will obviously be best for us to give some dinner parties and perhaps a dance,’ she said, keeping her voice light and unconcerned. She would speak to her brother later—alone! ‘As it happens, I have already sent out some invitations for a dinner tomorrow evening, just a few of my closest friends—but I shall make immediate preparations for something more elaborate. An engagement dance, I think.’ She glanced at Freddie, who had been frantically trying to catch her eye. ‘When is the wedding? Have you decided on a date yet?’

  ‘We thought the end of next month,’ Freddie said. ‘I shall take Bea to Paris for three weeks afterwards and—’

  Rosalyn gave him a warning frown. ‘We do not need to discuss this just yet, Freddie. Later, perhaps…’ She welcomed the arrival of a maid with the tea tray. ‘Ah, here we are. I am sure we can all do with some refreshment. Maria, please pour if you will. I must just speak to Mrs Simmons. Excuse me, please. I shall not be a moment. Do not wait for me, I beg you.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Rosalyn dear.’

  Maria gave her a nervous look as she got up and went from the room. Of course, Rosalyn thought, she must be worrying about her future. If Freddie and his new wife were to live here, Maria would not be needed as Rosalyn’s companion.

  Rosalyn felt a flush of anger. What had Freddie been thinking of to let all this come as such a surprise? But of course he had not thought at all! He had merely carried on as he always did, expecting everyone to fall in with his plans. It was so like him that his sister could not feel as angry with him as he deserved.

  ‘Ros—wait a moment!’ Freddie had come out into the hall after her. ‘Please, let me explain…’

  Rosalyn turned to look at him. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘You have no need to explain anything: this is your house. You are perfectly entitled to do as you wish with it.’

  ‘I could strangle that woman!’ Freddie said wrathfully. ‘I had hoped to talk to you about this in private—to explain why Beatrice would like to live here.’

  ‘Can it not wait until later?’ Rosalyn asked. ‘I have to make arrangements to send Jared home in the carriage. It has just started to rain and I do not want him to get a soaking.’

  ‘Jared?’

  Freddie looked puzzled, so she gave him a brief explanation.

  ‘Jared and his tutor are renting Lady Orford’s house. We have Celia’s daughter staying. They are much the same age, and Jared and Sarah have become friends.’ Her smile was a little strained. ‘I’ll tell you more when the others have gone up to change for dinner. Excuse me, Freddie, this will not wait.’

  She walked off and this time her brother did not try to delay her, merely standing in the hall and staring after her with a look of frustration on his handsome face.

  ‘Of course I have no objection to your bringing Beatrice here,’ Rosalyn said when she and Freddie were alone an hour or so later. ‘It is your house and you have a perfect right to do as you wish.’

  ‘I don’t want us to quarrel over this,’ Freddie said, his expression a mixture of shame and determination. ‘I promised this would be your home for as long as you required it, and I haven’t changed my mind. Beatrice won’t mind at all—and she is such an adorable goose that she will be glad to have your help with running the house. You need not fear that she will want to be interfering in your arrangements—and of course we shall still spend much of our time in London. At least until we have a family. Bea wants a large family, that’s one of the reasons she would prefer to live here—for the children’s sake. I told her this house was much larger than the one in Devon and she said she would like to see it—to share it with you.’

  ‘Any woman would prefer this house,’ Rosalyn said, frowning slightly. ‘The one in Devon was meant only as a summer retreat—and is much further from a decent-sized town. Here, she would be near enough to Cambridge to go shopping when she pleases. I have always found it a perfect combination, living in the country but with a town nearby.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ros,’ her brother said again. ‘I know this must have been a shock for you.’

  ‘I should certainly have preferred to have been told sooner,’ Rosalyn said. ‘It would have given me more time to think about the future.’

  ‘I’ve told you, there is no need for you to move away.’

  ‘What about Mrs Jenkins?’ Rosalyn lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘Are you planning to include her in your household?’

  ‘Good God, no!’ said Freddie, looking horrified. ‘I would not stand for it even if Bea wanted it—and she certainly doesn’t. That woman has made Bea’s life a misery for months on end, hounding her to make a good marriage. It is because Bea wants to get away from her that we’ve arranged the wedding so quickly.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Rosalyn said, giving him a rueful look. ‘Is she Beatrice’s only relative?’

  ‘Yes—since her mother died.’ Freddie frowned. ‘Bea is an heiress—or she will be when Mrs Jenkins dies. She made quite sure I knew how much Bea will inherit. If it weren’t for Bea’s sake, I would tell her to take herself off—but I cannot be the cause of Bea’s losing twenty thousand pounds, can I? She would not thank me for it, you know.’

  ‘You don’t care about the money?’

  ‘I would have married her without a penny—but it’s Bea’s inheritance. I cannot deprive her of that, even if I don’t like the old battleaxe.’

  ‘Freddie dearest!’ Rosalyn pulled a face at him. ‘You must not speak so disrespectfully of your fiancée’s aunt. Let us hope she won’t visit too often when you are married.’

  ‘Unfortunately, her own estate is in Huntingdon,’ Fre
ddie said with a gloomy look. ‘Too close for comfort. I dare say she will descend on us several times a year.’

  Rosalyn laughed at his expression. His words had made it plain to her that she would have to think very hard about the future. She might just have managed to live for a while with Beatrice—who was a sweet girl and would need help if she was to run this huge house efficiently—but not if Mrs Jenkins were to become a frequent visitor.

  ‘Well, you must try to keep on terms with her if you can for Beatrice’s sake,’ she said. ‘And now, Freddie, we should both go and change or we shall keep our guests waiting for their dinner.’

  ‘Are you very upset, Ros?’

  Freddie looked so anxious that the last remnants of Rosalyn’s anger melted away. ‘No, of course not,’ she said and went to kiss his cheek. ‘I think I shall like Beatrice very much—and I am naturally happy for you.’

  ‘And you won’t run off and leave us?’

  ‘Not immediately,’ Rosalyn promised. ‘In time I shall probably want my own house, but not just at once—and of course I shall visit you several times a year. I do hope my visits will not cause either of you to quake in your shoes?’

  ‘As if they would!’ Freddie looked relieved. ‘But I really do wish you would continue to think of this house as your home. There is no need for you to leave. Unless you marry, of course.’

  Rosalyn shook her head at him, but would not be drawn further. As they parted, each going up to their own rooms, she allowed herself a moment of regret. She had been happy here, and there were so many memories. She would miss the life she had known here when she was forced to leave.

  But leave she would, that was beyond question. It would not be fair to Beatrice if she remained here, because she would always be the mistress. At least until the girl became more assertive, and that might eventually lead to tension and quarrels.

  No, it would not do, Rosalyn decided. She could not consider it. She must find herself a new home.