by Anne Herries
‘Yes, I thought I recognised his voice. I shall thank him. Leave me now, please, for I should like to sleep.’
He’d told Samantha that he would like to sleep, but sleep was far from his mind as he lay thinking about the attack. It was not a robbery as he’d claimed, it was a warning. Someone was threatening what they would do if he continued to interfere in their affairs—which must mean Miss Ross’s affairs. He knew of no one who might have a grudge against him for any other reason. Since he had no intention of leaving Rosemarie to the mercy either of her greedy uncle or the unknown shadowy figure who might or might not be a relative, he would have to take measures to protect himself, too.
He thought he might take Cameron into his confidence. The young officer was reliable, trustworthy and clever. He’d obviously remembered that Samantha was so good tending to the wounded in the past. He could trust him in a tight corner when they were in France, and he believed he could trust him now—and he was going to have to step carefully if he were to bring Rosemarie to a safe haven.
* * *
‘I am so sorry, sir,’ Rosemarie said, coming forward with her hands outstretched when Brock came down two days later, feeling much more himself. ‘I do pray that what happened to you was not my fault.’
‘Now why should it be?’ Brock said and smiled kindly at her. He glanced at Samantha, but her expression gave nothing away. ‘I’m sure Sam told you it was merely an attempt at robbery? I had a convivial evening and was careless. There was nothing for you to worry about, my dear child.’
‘As long as it wasn’t because my uncle hates you—and he does, you know.’ Rosemarie’s cheeks were bright with colour. ‘He has discovered where I am staying and I’ve had a letter from him. He called me a selfish, ungrateful girl and says I’ve told lies to blacken his character. I think he is very angry because the lawyers have told him that he is no longer thought a proper person to have charge of my affairs. It seems that the lawyers have discovered missing monies due to my estate and my uncle has been informed that steps will be taken to have his stewardship set aside. He will have no say at all in my affairs once the court has approved the injunction—and if I wish it, he must leave the estate.’
‘Well, that is a relief to you, I am sure,’ Brock said. ‘Have you heard from Lieutenant Carstairs yet?’
‘No, nothing at all,’ Rosemarie said, looking anxious. ‘It is not like Robert. You may be thinking that he does not wish me to marry him, but I know he loves me. I fear that something has happened to him.’
‘Your letter may have gone astray—or he may have been sent somewhere else and it never reached him. Perhaps I could make enquiries to discover if he has been posted elsewhere?’
‘I should be grateful, sir...’ Rosemarie faltered ‘...but I did not wish to trouble you further and Captain Cameron has said that he will make enquiries.’
‘Cameron is a good man,’ Brock said. ‘If he puts his mind to it, Robert will soon be found.’
‘So he assured me,’ Rosemarie said, and her cheeks were pink. ‘He was so kind the other night, when you were set upon and hurt.’
‘Only a very little hurt. I shall take more care in future, believe me.’
‘So you do think you might be attacked again.’ Rosemarie gave a little cry of distress. ‘It is all my fault. I am so very sorry to have brought this on you, sir.’
‘No need for you to worry,’ Brock reassured her. ‘I can promise it will not happen again. I am on my guard now—and we cannot be sure that it has anything to do with you at all. I may have an enemy I know nothing about or, more likely, it was an attempt at robbery, as I thought.’
‘Well, you must promise to take more care of yourself,’ Samantha said. ‘Are you sure you feel able to return to your lodgings?’
‘I am quite certain, thank you. I have had two devoted nurses to bring me back to full health.’
Rosemarie remained unconvinced that it was not her spiteful uncle, despite Samantha adding her assurances to his, and looked so down that Brock cursed his own carelessness. Had he been more aware she need never have known anything of it. He wished that Cameron had had the good sense to simply take him to his lodgings rather than bring her here to distress Samantha and Rosemarie, though it had been pleasant having Samantha looking after him.
‘Well, you must forget all this unpleasantness now,’ he said. ‘I have promised Miss Langton that I shall go down to see her at her home in the country next weekend. I shall be out of town for a few days and I wish to be certain that you are both safe and untroubled. I have spoken to some of my friends and they have agreed that one or the other will escort you wherever you go each night. You know them all, Samantha—Cameron and Philip Young, Ralph Melton and Lieutenant Poole. You may trust them all and if they form your bodyguard I shall be content to leave you until I can return.’
‘Yes, of course, sir,’ Rosemarie said. ‘You must not trouble yourself with my affairs. I have already been nuisance enough.’
‘That is nonsense,’ he said sharply. ‘Neither Samantha nor I find you a nuisance, Rosemarie. I am merely being cautious. Now, have you seen Mr Marshall?’
‘Yes, he called yesterday,’ Samantha said. ‘It was most curious, was it not, Rosemarie?’
‘He said that he wished to see proof of my birth, which he intended to have checked with the parish records, and then he might have some good news for me,’ Rosemarie said, wrinkling her pretty forehead. ‘I asked him what he meant, but he said only that if I was truly the daughter of my father and mother I might come into some property.’
‘I imagined it might be something of the sort,’ Brock said. ‘You showed him what documents you have and gave him the details of where he might find the records?’
‘I would not let him take my papers away—letters from the doctor who was present at my birth and my father’s lawyers congratulating Papa on my birth and subsequent adoption so that I had the right to his name—and he said he did not wish to, only to see them and to check with the parish where I was born that I was indeed who I claimed to be.’
‘What do you think it might mean?’ Samantha asked. ‘Is it true or a trick to lull her into believing she is an heiress?’
‘She is already an heiress and Marshall knows it so I imagine there is more to this than what he has told you.’
‘Yes. Do you think...?’ Samantha hesitated. ‘Could his client be Rosemarie’s grandfather?’
‘Mama’s father?’ Rosemarie’s eyes opened wide. ‘Surely he would not wish to give me anything? He disowned Mama.’
‘Perhaps he has regretted it,’ Samantha suggested. ‘I cannot think who else it might be, can you?’
‘No, I cannot,’ Rosemarie said. ‘It is a mystery, but I do not truly care. Papa left me his fortune. I do not need another. Indeed, I wish only for the freedom to marry Robert and for enough money to live on.’
‘Well, I am sure we shall bring your happiness about,’ Brock said. ‘I must leave you for I have some business of my own—but I shall return this evening to escort you to Lady Faversham’s ball.’
Chapter Ten
Samantha watched Brock waltzing with Rosemarie. The girl looked happy and danced well, almost as gracefully as her partner. Brock had been one of Wellington’s aides and all of the Duke’s young officers were required to dance well, but she thought Brock was perhaps the best at waltzing. A little sigh escaped her as she wished she were dancing herself that evening for she would have liked to be in his arms, being whirled around and around under the glittering chandeliers.
No, she must not wish for something that was out of her grasp. Even if Brock liked her, even if she felt something stronger for the handsome officer, he was not free to offer her anything. He was still engaged to Cynthia Langton, though Samantha was sure he was not in love with the girl, and, remembering the way she had looked at Lord Armstrong
when they were dancing, it was clear that Cynthia was not in love with Brock.
Well, there was no point in her sighing over it. Brock was almost certainly going down to the country to discuss his marriage with Miss Langton. Samantha had wondered for a time whether he might have fallen for Rosemarie, but she had seen no real sign of it—even though he continued to protect and care for the girl. He had put his mantle about her, lining up young officers to make sure she was safe and gathering the protection of the law about her.
Samantha knew that the girl was safe from her uncle’s attempts to steal from her, but that might make him all the more dangerous. If Brock was right in his estimation, and she had no reason to doubt him, Roxbourgh might even now be plotting an attempt at kidnap.
If he managed to spirit Rosemarie away, she could be hidden in any one of numerous institutions, where disruptive girls were put by those wishing to control them. It was common enough for a young girl who found herself in trouble and pregnant by her lover to be shut away in an asylum for the rest of her life—or at least until her family decided to forgive her shame. Many families remained unforgiving and the girls were never allowed to see their child or the outside world again.
Samantha shuddered to think that such a thing might happen to Rosemarie. She knew that Brock would blame himself and leave no stone unturned to find her if it should happen, but that might take years. She could only pray that it would not happen. Surely now that he could no longer touch her fortune it would not benefit Lord Roxbourgh to do such a wicked thing? Yet she knew that some men were capable of anything only for the sake of revenge.
‘Will you dance, Samantha?’ a voice asked, and she turned to find the Marquis of Barchester at her side.
‘Good evening, my lord,’ Samantha said, feeling a tingling sensation at her nape. ‘I have not seen you for some weeks. Have you been out of town?’
‘Yes, I was called away urgently,’ he said. ‘I meant to tell you, but a dear friend of mine fell ill and I have been with him, constantly at his side until he died, and then I had to arrange his affairs. He had fallen on hard times and I was obliged to settle debts and see that his dependants were taken care of. Will you forgive me for my neglect of you, Samantha?’
‘Yes, of course. I have no call on you, sir. I did wonder if you were unwell yourself, but thought I must have heard if that were so.’
‘I can only beg your pardon if you were anxious,’ he said, looking at her oddly.
‘I am glad to see you returned,’ Samantha replied evenly.
‘Alas, I know it is all I may expect,’ he said with an elaborate sigh. ‘Yet my offer still stands if you should change your mind.’
‘Thank you, but I have no desire to marry again just yet,’ Samantha replied a little untruthfully, since she would have been happy to marry the right man. ‘You may not have heard, but I have a delightful young lady staying with me at the moment.’
‘Miss Rosemarie Ross?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘She is the reason you do not dance? You should not sacrifice your life for her, Samantha. You are too young and beautiful to become a dreary chaperon.’
‘Oh, dear, must one be dreary if one is a chaperon?’ she joked and her eyes twinkled at him. ‘For the moment I am content to watch my young friend enjoy herself. She is very popular and it is pleasing to see her success.’
The Marquis nodded, his eyes following Rosemarie as she danced with Brock. ‘I understand Brockley brought her to you. He rescued her and indeed knows nothing of her other than what she claims.’
‘Rosemarie is a sweet child and she is quite genuinely an heiress. It is not her fault that...’ Samantha shook her head. She had nearly given away the secret of Rosemarie’s birth and that would not do.
‘I know exactly who she is—and what her mother was,’ Barchester said, and there was a glint of anger in his dark eyes. At that moment Samantha felt that all her reservations about him had been proved, all the charm stripped away to reveal what exactly?
‘Her mother was, I believe, a very beautiful and charming lady.’
‘Who stole another lady’s husband and drove that poor wretch to utter misery.’
‘No!’ Samantha gasped, looking at him in shock. ‘Please do not repeat such things, Barchester. I have heard the true story and I know that is not correct. The unfortunate lady you speak of was already suffering from an unspeakable malaise when...’ She fanned herself, feeling uncomfortably hot as she saw the anger in his face.
She recalled now how, of all her suitors, Barchester had been the one to make her feel uneasy, despite his outward appearance of charm.
‘Excuse me, I must go to my friends,’ she said, and saw his jaw tighten.
‘I believed I was your friend, Samantha?’ Now there was hurt and a rueful smile on his lips, and she wondered if she had mistaken that earlier look.
‘Of course you are, but Rosemarie needs me,’ she said before moving away.
Samantha felt uneasy and without turning to look she knew that Barchester’s eyes followed her. She hoped that she had not made an enemy of him by showing her dislike of his attitude towards Rosemarie’s mother. She had been told that Rosemarie’s father’s wife was already insane when he began his affair with her mother. The poor lady had been shut away for her own good in a place where she was given what comforts could be offered her. Rosemarie had not told her what the lady’s condition was and perhaps she did not know. Her father would be unlikely to speak of his wife to either his daughter or his mistress.
It was clear that Barchester knew more than Samantha did about the lady who had been the reason that Mr Ross could not marry Rosemarie’s mother. He claimed that she had been driven to despair by her husband’s infidelity and that had made her condition worse. Samantha could not know the truth, but she felt it was unkind of Barchester to speak of these things, for rumours about Rosemarie’s mother might yet ruin her in society. At the moment she was popular, but if people began to talk about her parents and blame her mother for robbing another lady of her husband...
It would mean that Rosemarie might no longer receive vouchers for Almack’s or be invited to the best drawing rooms, and that would be a shame.
Samantha had no thought for herself, though she knew that if it became an open scandal she might be blamed from bringing the girl into the circles of elite society. However, it was only of the girl she had come to feel was like a younger sister that she thought anxiously now. If Barchester were to speak openly of what he believed, Rosemarie might be ruined. In that case, it would be better to see her married to her soldier as soon as possible. He had a career abroad and it would be many years before they returned to London, by which time any rumours would have been forgotten.
Barchester was a gentleman. Surely he would not spread rumours about a girl’s mother, vile, vicious stories that could mean her ruin?
Samantha told herself that he’d spoken in an unguarded moment and would not spread this tale of Rosemarie’s mother having been responsible for a woman losing her mind and being incarcerated in an asylum.
A cold shiver ran down Samantha’s spine and, try as she might, she could not shake off the feeling of foreboding that had come over her so suddenly.
* * *
‘Is something wrong, Samantha?’ Rosemarie asked as they were in the carriage on the way home. ‘You seem unlike yourself. Has something happened to upset you? Have I done something wrong?’
‘No, of course not,’ Samantha said, and reached for her hand. ‘You are the dearest, sweetest girl and I love you. What could you do to upset me?’
‘I should not like to,’ Rosemarie said. ‘Is something else making you unhappy?’
‘I do have something on my mind,’ Samantha admitted, ‘but nothing for you to worry about, dearest.’
She crossed her fingers in the darkness of the carriage, praying that that was true. She
would have liked to speak to Brock in private, but he had seen her to her carriage and said goodnight.
‘I leave town early in the morning, Samantha. Cameron will escort you home, my dears, and my friends will all be there if you need anything. I do not expect to be long in the country.’
‘Yes, of course. You must not worry about us, Brock. Cynthia has every right to your attention. Naturally, you must stay as long as you wish.’
‘Yes.’ He’d inclined his head to her. ‘You are well, Samantha? You seem a little quiet?’
‘It is nothing,’ she’d disclaimed for she could not tell him of her worry that Barchester might try to ruin Rosemarie. If the worst happened, she must just rely on herself and her friends to bring the girl about. Brock had given enough of his time and must see to his own affairs.
* * *
Once they were inside the house, Samantha kissed the girl goodnight and they went to their separate rooms. She was thoughtful as her maid brushed her hair and prepared her for bed. It might be wise to arm herself against a whispering campaign and she would make enquiries to that end. The first course of action might be to speak to Brock’s solicitor. Mr Stevens would know where to look for the answers she needed.
* * *
Brock, too, was thoughtful as he sat drinking a last nightcap before retiring. He had hopes that his future might be in a way to being settled this weekend. He had been invited to an interview at the palace with Wellington and the Prince Regent himself. He was being offered an ambassadorship in a part of India where the climate in the mountain areas was often temperate and pleasant. It would not be like the hot and dusty regions that often caused young white ladies to take a fever and die. The right kind of woman would be perfectly comfortable in the large and luxurious residency that would be given to Brock and his wife.
