by Brianna York
Hester rose from her place beside the bed and began to tidy up the room. She glanced back at Rosy in the large bed, thinking that she looked very small and defenseless. She sighed aloud, her heart aching for the young woman whom she had known for many years now. A girl as kind and gentle as Rosy did not deserve such brutish and selfish treatment at the hands of men. Thinking again how lucky she was not to be married, Hester left the room on quiet feet to attend to the rest of her duties.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Good morning, Rosy.”
Rosy blinked against the brightness assaulting her eyes and tried to focus on the voice which had spoken to her. A silhouette swam muzzily in front of her eyes and she reached up a hand to block the light as best as she could.
“Who is there? It is so bright,” she said, her mouth feeling full of cotton.
There was a rustle of movement and a sudden reduction of the light that was blinding her. She realized that one of the bed curtains had been let down, blocking out most of the brightness of the sun. There was another scuffle of movement and the person who had addressed her came back into view. This time she could tell who it was, but her slightly addled brain did not know at first what to make of what she was seeing.
“Cecily?” she said, still struggling with her tongue.
The other woman nodded brusquely. “Indeed. Shall I get you some water?”
Rosy nodded gratefully. “Please.”
Cecily’s beautiful face vanished from her vision and Rosy took stock for a moment. She felt heavy and drugged but her mind had refocused enough to remember the doctor telling her to drink something that would help her to sleep. She carefully rolled her head on the pillow and felt as though it might not bother her too much if she needed to sit up some to drink the water.
“Here,” Cecily told her as she returned, bearing a small china cup with cool water in it. “I know when I take medicine for my headaches I often feel as though I have not had anything to drink in years.”
Rosy sipped greedily at the water, feeling some sense returning to her sleepy brain. She pressed herself up to a sitting position, then winced a little as sudden soreness made her stop. A sudden bolt of panic shot through her and she placed a hand on her abdomen. “Cecily…” she began to say.
“There was no bleeding,” the other woman assured her quickly. Something in her tone was off and Rosy glanced up at her. There was nothing amiss in her expression when Rosy met her eyes, but the timbre of her voice as she went on still felt incorrect for her words. “It does not appear that you shall lose the babe.”
Rosy decided to ignore her gut reaction to Cecily’s tone of voice. Likely she was just feeling the effects of the sleeping draught. She closed her eyes and pressed her palm flat against her body. She was not alone again after all. The relief she felt was so intense that she shivered.
“Shall I fetch the Earl?” Cecily inquired, turning to leave the room.
Cecily’s voice again seemed to contain an emotion that was not correct for the moment and Rosy glanced at her with slightly narrowed eyes. It was almost as though Cecily was not pleased that Rosy and the baby were apparently not harmed by yesterday’s events. “I think that you should ask the butler to summon my husband,” Rosy said firmly, stressing Rob’s status as husband in case Cecily had forgotten.
“Of course,” Cecily said a bit peevishly. “Whatever did you think I meant?” And then she was gone.
Rosy stared after the other young woman for a moment, a twinge of concern coiling inside of her. She sighed and closed her eyes again. There were more than enough things for her to worry about at the moment without concerning herself with the strange fits and starts of Cecily Beaumont.
Rosy’s brain was slowly recalling the events of the afternoon before. She realized that it might have been unwise to invite Rob to come to a house party she was throwing without telling him about her pregnancy or even apologizing for her harsh words. She had erroneously thought that she could explain everything to him once he arrived. She had thought it would all be easier in person. Now she rather wished that she had not invited him at all.
She pondered her undeniable physical attraction to the Viscount which still lingered despite her love for Rob. She thought that Rob was being very silly if he thought that she could actually love the Viscount but sometimes he was much easier to please than Rob. Her husband was more prickly and difficult with regard to sharing his life than she could have ever expected. She had naively thought that the carefree and sociable exterior that he presented to everyone in public was all that there was to him. Finding out that he had hidden frustrations and feelings that she had been unaware of made him feel like a stranger to her.
“You seem to be thinking unhappy thoughts,” a male voice said from the doorway.
Rosy started and turned toward the voice, pressing a hand to her chest over her suddenly racing heart. “You scared the very wits out of me, Husband,” she chastised Rob.
“I apologize,” he said warily as he stepped into the room.
She noted the darkness of stubble on his chin and the messy tangle of his hair. He seemed a bit rumpled as well.
“Sleep poorly?” she asked, pleased that he did not seem to have fully gathered his usual aplomb. She hated her pettiness but she found that the hurt she felt had not lessened much in the past few weeks.
Rob frowned at her tone but said, “I was up for most of the night thinking.” He drew in a deep breath. “Listen, Rosy,” he forged on, “I am terribly sorry for what I said and did yesterday. I did not afford you the respect due my wife and I am sorry for any injury that may have come to pass when you fainted.”
Rosy sighed. He sounded stiff and a bit angry at her still but she would accept any form of apology at this point. “I know how it must have looked to you. Truly, Longford carried me up here to rest. There was nothing going on but a bit too much kindness on his part.”
Rob leaned against the side of the bed with his hip and regarded her for a moment. “I am not sure I dare ask, but is the babe…”
Rosy smiled brightly, her hand going to her stomach. “No bleeding. I believe all is well.”
Rob found himself smiling back at her. “And is it true that there is no chance that it is any other man’s baby?”
Rosy checked the rush of anger that his words caused. It was not worth being angry at him any longer on that point. “On my own life,” she stated flatly. “There is no way that anyone but yourself is the father of this baby.” She held out her hand. “Come here.”
Rob hesitated before heeding her command. He placed his hand into hers and allowed her to lead him closer. She placed his hand on her belly and then placed her own small hands atop his.
“I know that you cannot feel anything yet,” she whispered, “but there is a tiny person in there who belongs to you and me both. Surely that makes you happy enough to forgive all the unfortunate words that have passed between us these past weeks?”
Rob felt the soft warmth of her skin just beneath the thin layer of her nightclothes and felt his body reacting to her proximity despite his best intentions to rein himself in. He felt something else too, a sense of another presence that was more thought than reality between them but something that they truly would and could share. “I am sorry for my rash behavior,” he said quietly.
“I am sorry for the awful things I said,” she replied honestly, a catch in her throat.
Rob met her eyes and chuckled. “Love is a very strange thing, is it not?”
Rosy felt her eyes misting over with unshed tears. “It is strange and also wonderful,” she said to him. She felt the first tears slipping down her cheeks as Rob leaned in to kiss her.
Cecily grimaced and closed the bedroom door with a soft click. She almost wished that she had not snuck up behind Rob and taken the opportunity to peer through the crack in the door at the little scene that had just played out.
“Love,” she muttered furiously as she stomped to the rooms she had been assigned. She pac
ed back and forth in growing frustration and anger, wishing that she had never come to Rosy’s house party. “He loves her, you ninny. What do you think that you can do to make him fall out of love with her?”
She tossed herself angrily onto the soft bed in the middle of the room and screamed into a pillow in an attempt to vent some of her frustration. She was not meant to be a commoner’s wife. She was meant to be Countess! If only Rosy would have lost the baby. She felt sure that the promise of an heir was at least part of what made Rob think he loved her. Surely no man could love someone like Rosy when he had been offered a beauty like herself?
There was a sudden tapping at the door of her room and Cecily sat up on the bed with an annoyed flounce, her eyes going to the doorway. She saw a small envelope slip under the closed door and then heard the soft patter of a servant’s feet as they withdrew. At least they do not expect one to open the door for every servant who comes by, she thought peevishly, slipping off the bed and crossing the room to pick up the small envelope.
She opened it and unfolded the scrap of foolscap within. The note was an invitation to the Coulthurst village festival the next afternoon. Cecily imagined that the gathering would be composed of some local bumpkins selling fruit and other such things and possibly some kind of maudlin performance done by traveling players. She felt another stab of fury and crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it at the door. She fell to pacing back and forth, trying to think of an excuse she could make that would keep her from having to attend the festival. Everyone would be gone from the house during the event. Likely even the servants would be allowed to attend. It would be peaceful all alone in the house.
Uttering another irritated expletive, Cecily tossed herself onto the bed again. Perhaps she would take a nap. Hopefully things would look more promising to her after a rest.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosy looked around at the knots of people exploring the tents with local wares for sale. Colorful ribbon festooned the tents. They fluttered in the breeze, their merry colors brightening the scene. She slipped the small watch out of her pocket and checked the time. The gypsy horsemanship show was due to start in about two hours.
“This is most impressive,” Rob said warmly, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Rosy glanced back at him and smiled brightly. “I am pleased that you find it so,” she said.
“I heard that there shall be a trick riding demonstration within the hour?” Rob asked.
Rosy nodded. “Mabel said that she knew some of the gypsy folk who come through the area each summer. We owe her for requesting their presence for our little fair.”
“You have made quick work of winning over the staff,” he observed, squeezing her shoulder and then withdrawing his hand.
“Some of them anyhow,” Rosy agreed, her bright mood a bit dimmed by thoughts of the Bruxton family.
“I went over the books for a moment this morning while you were resting,” Rob went on, taking her hand and leading her to walk with him.
Rosy slanted a glance up at him, a question in her heart. She knew that she had made the correct decision regarding the Bruxton family. It had felt good to collect the rents herself and know that they would be applied correctly this quarter.
Rob looked down into Rosy’s face for a moment and smiled gently at her. “I see that you collected the rents. Comes to quite a tidy sum.”
Rosy nodded. “Indeed.”
Rob was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the merriment of the fair and its participants. Finally, he said, “That would be quite enough money to make it possible to send one’s son to a university.”
“Indeed,” Rosy said again, her eyes on his profile. She could not read the tone in his voice adequately to tell what he was feeling.
Rob turned and met her gaze. “I am sorry that I did not listen to you. I am so glad that you came along to knock some sense into me.”
Rosy chuckled. “I didn’t intend to make you feel that I was knocking sense into you,” she replied honestly. “I only want the best for the property.”
“Charles told me today that he approves of your efforts. He said that the house and the estate feel like they are alive again.” Rob placed a hand over hers and squeezed gently. He removed it and gestured at the idyllic scene surrounding them. “I completely agree with him. You have made a very wonderful change for the better.”
Rosy blushed at this and ducked her head. “I was only acting as the lady of the house ought. It was my duty to make the right decisions with regards to the estate.”
“No matter the reason,” Rob replied, “I appreciate your efforts very much.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Rosy laughed and felt a little ripple of pleasure slip down her spine at his touch. She hoped that she would never get bored with such affection.
“My Lord!”
They drew to a halt and turned in tandem to see one of the tenants approaching. “Is there something amiss Rivers?” Rob asked, concern furrowing his brow.
“Nay, nothing at all is amiss,” Rivers assured them, a smile on his broad and homely face. “I thought to stop you and see if you and her Ladyship should like to come and see the plates and bowls that my wife has decorated for the fair. She created a brand-new pattern to remember the day by.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Rob returned. He looked back at Rosy. “Shall we go and have a look?”
Rosy smiled but shook her head. “I am feeling a bit tired,” she admitted. “I shall just have a seat over there and wait for you.” She gestured to a little wooden bench which had been placed to the side of the main part of the fair.
“If you are sure,” Rob said, a bit of worry marring his brow.
Rosy waved him away with a smile. “Yes, I am quite sure. Do go on. I shall just sit here and enjoy the fine weather.”
Rob pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and then walked away with Rivers. She watched them leave for a moment, then settled herself on the bench. She turned her face up to the sunshine and felt a peacefulness steal over her. It was lovely to feel as if everything was coming around. She was very proud of what she had accomplished in the past weeks working alone on the estate, but it meant quite a lot for Rob to acknowledge that she had done good work. She thought of the tiny life growing inside of her and felt a jolt of happiness pierce her heart. She felt that her life could not get any better.
“Do not move a muscle.”
The harsh whisper in her ear made her jump and she made to swivel around in shock but a firm hand clasped a hold of her hair.
“I said,” the voice asserted more loudly, yanking on her hair harshly. “Not to move. I should not enjoy killing you right here but I will do it if I must.”
Rosy swallowed carefully, becoming aware of the blade of a knife against her throat. She felt the sharpness of its tip pressing against her skin. Her heart was racing and she felt frozen with fear for a moment.
“Come on now. Get up carefully and follow me.”
“Where are we…” Rosy began but was stopped by another sharp yank at her hair.
“I haven’t the patience for this. Do not continue to vex me, My lady. Come along now.”
Rosy rose slowly from the bench, her eyes scanning the crowd in panicked hope. Surely someone could see her! She realized for the first time that she was mostly blocked from sight by the side of the tent next to her seat. If she dared scream someone would surely hear her, but the sharp knife pressed against her throat had already nicked her tender skin as she rose. She felt the trickle of blood running hotly down her neck and swallowed heavily.
I shall get us out of this, she thought comfortingly to the little spark of life within her. I don’t know how but I shall.
“Back up slowly,” the voice said harshly in her ear, tugging at her hair to guide her backwards.
Rosy stumbled back as carefully as she could, trying not to press against the knife blade or fall down. “Who are you?” Rosy asked quietly, trying to pla
ce the voice but not being sure that she had heard it before. She could tell the fist holding the knife belonged to a man though.
“Never you mind,” the voice said sharply as they backed into the shelter of the brushy woods surrounding the field where the fair was being held. “You shall know soon enough.”
Rosy had just opened her mouth to ask another question when a sack of some sort was pulled over her head and tied off. She felt her hands being clasped behind her back and tied as well. She tried to struggle forward but her attacker twisted her arms higher and she gasped with pain before subsiding unhappily. She felt as though she were suffocating as she was hurried across the uneven ground and decided to spare her breath for the moment. She hoped that Rob would notice that she was missing very soon. She had absolutely no idea where they were heading and she had nothing with which to leave a trail for him. The best she could do was attempt to drag her feet as much as possible in the hopes that he would see the disturbed ground and follow it.
Please Rob, she thought fervently. Please come after me soon.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“It is lovely work,” Rob praised Rivers, clapping him on the shoulder. “Please save a complete set for my wife and I. We would be honored to have one to display in our home.”
Rivers smiled broadly and nodded eagerly. “Of course, My Lord! We should be honored.”
“It is lovely work,” Rob said to Rivers’ wife as he pressed payment into her hand.
Feeling benevolent toward all of life, Rob left his tenants and made to return to Rosy. He rounded the corner of the tent where he remembered her wishing to sit. She was nowhere to be found. He turned slowly about, searching for her distinctive slender form and the lovely pale violet dress she had donned in honor of the fair. Feeling panic beginning to squeeze his heart, Rob returned to the closest tent and asked the women inside if they had heard his wife talking to anyone or seen her leave. They stated that they had only seen her cross to the side of the tent but had not noticed her leaving or heard any conversation.
