His Colonial Rose

by Vanessa Brooks

  "On the contrary, Benedict, I was admiring your beautiful estate."

  Benedict gave her a wink. "And that was cause for laughter?"

  Rose gave a jolly giggle and clicked her tongue, moving Abby next to Devil and his master, "This estate is absolutely stunning, Benedict, it is beyond words, truly."

  "I am so glad that you like it, my dear. Perhaps now you can see that it would be a good place to live?" They rode in genial silence for a while. Rose thought about Benedict's angry words spoken the previous evening, 'I had no desire to marry you either'. Until he'd said it, she had never considered the fact that he might be in the same position as she. It turned out they were both compelled by the King to marry someone they did not wish to. In fact, both had been asked to put their own desires aside for their country. She bit her lip before broaching the delicate subject.

  "I'm very sorry that you're being forced to marry me, Benedict." Rose looked down as she spoke. "I hope that you won't find marriage to me too difficult to abide."

  To her surprise, Benedict moved his horse closer and scooped her from Abby's back. He set her into the saddle in front of him. Devil gave a snort and Benedict gave him a sharp rebuke. Rose snuggled close as she laid her head upon Benedict's chest and closed her eyes. She could hear the clip clop of Abby's hooves as the gentle mare followed on close behind them.

  Benedict gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Rose, I have never considered that marriage to you would be difficult or unpleasant. The same cannot be said for you, however. Have you decided to surrender yourself to our vows?"

  Rose rubbed her cheek across his fine wool jacket. "Well, maybe not surrender exactly but I think that I am resigned to go along with the plan, yes." Benedict gave a relieved chuckle and kissed the top of her head.

  "I would expect no less from you, madam. You know, Rose, many a fine marriage has been an arranged one. Just because it behoves King and Country for us to marry, does not mean it cannot benefit us both as well. I find you… utterly delightful, charming and very beautiful. Each day that passes I find myself looking forward more and more to our wedding day. Tell me is this also the same with you?"

  Rose considered his question. If she confessed the truth, he would know that she had dreamed of him last night, that she had looked for him during the day and found that she now enjoyed his company. His kisses were divine and made her ache with desire. Reaching up and toying with the que at the back of his neck, she leaned back to search his handsome face.

  "I never wanted to leave Virginia, I love it so there. You saw me at the dance, I am a simple country girl at heart. I don't know or understand all the niceties and what's worse, I don't give a fig for them. I don't want to go to parties all the while and gossip behind fans. I could be happy here at Merriton, I think, if I could simply remain in the country with you."

  Benedict wrapped her tightly in his arms. She breathed him in deeply, her nose pressed to his neck. Mmm, he smelled so very good. When he replied, his deep voice held emotion that Rose did not expect to hear. "By gad, madam, that is the best answer you could have given me." They rode to the house, wrapped contentedly within each other's arms.

  Arriving back at the stables, Benedict dismounted and plucked Rose from the back of his horse. He set her lightly onto her feet and smiled into her eyes with his deep blue gaze, which made her stomach flutter.

  "We had better get back to the house, my dearest. Someone will wonder what has happened to us." Rose heard Pippin's excited bark and he and Holly raced to greet them. The horses were left in the care of the grooms and the two dogs accompanied them back to the house.

  "Holly was always such a good and obedient dog before Pippin arrived. Your colonial terror has been a bad influence on her I'm afraid," Benedict said, looking down in disgust as Pippin raced in a circle and Holly lay panting in the grass trying to nip his furry little legs as he danced around her.

  "I'm afraid I've let him have far too much free rein, Benedict. Once you begin a bad habit, well, it's hard to break."

  "I know that full well, madam, and such a mistake I do not intend to make with you."

  "Ooh, sometimes, Benedict, you are absolutely insufferable." Rose's laughter was intended to belie her words but nevertheless a little shiver of excited anticipation ran down her spine. He actually smiled when she stomped into the house and mounted the stairs.

  "I shall see you shortly, at dinner, my dear," he called after her.

  "Yes, you most certainly shall." Rose stomped up the stairs and made sure her shoes gave just the right amount of noise to indicate to him that she did not wholly appreciate his comment. However, she had still laughed at his words.

  It was growing late and she would have to hurry in order to be properly dressed for dinner. Eloise was waiting for her as she entered her room.

  "You look happy this evening, Rose, your outing must have agreed with you."

  "Yes, Eloise. I must admit, to my great surprise, Benedict Lord Mortimer is growing on me. He can be an absolute wretch but he also has some rather good qualities."

  "Well now, miss, I did think as much and I am so glad for you. How much more pleasant it shall be to find a peace between you before you are to wed."

  Rose removed her riding habit and handed it to Eloise who brushed it before putting it away. "What do you think, Eloise, which dress should I wear for dinner this evening?"

  "Oh, my dear, please do wear the rose embroidered gown. It is beyond lovely and sets off your eyes so." Rose smiled and agreed. Madame Emmerson had made her a cream coloured gown embroidered with pink roses and embellished with wide gold brocade trim. The gold set off the highlights in her hair and would sparkle in the candlelight. Wide sleeve ruffles rested on her forearms and Madame Emmerson set the neck of the gown so that it complimented her delicate shoulders. Eloise put Rose's hair up into a fashionable but complicated style, placing tiny silk flowers throughout. "You look absolutely beautiful, miss." Rose gazed at her reflection. It seemed that the image of her mother gazed back.

  "Thank you, Eloise, you have done a marvellous job," said Rose patting Eloise's shoulder. Eloise escorted Rose to the door before opening it for her mistress. "Do enjoy your evening, Miss Rose."

  Rose walked down the corridor toward the stairway and as she began to make her way below, she heard unfamiliar voices in the hall. The clop and rattle of a carriage pulling away greeted her ears and Rose hurried down the steps to see who had arrived.

  Beatrice and Imogene stood greeting an older, somewhat plump lady and a pinched, rather whey-faced, young woman. The two resembled one another just enough to possibly be mother and daughter. Rose overheard the conversation as she came into the room.

  "Ah, Lady Beatrice, I am dreadfully sorry to impose upon you in this presumptive way." The older lady handed her wrap to Roberts.

  "Well, of course, you are most welcome, Lady Amelia. I was honoured to receive your request for a dinner invitation, especially since our two young people who seemed destined for one another declined to engage last year. It will put any awkwardness behind us. Especially since Mortimer is now affianced to Miss Rose Randolph from the Colonies of America," Beatrice replied.

  "May I say that it was not due to Margaret's lack of affection for Lord Mortimer, I do assure you, Lady Beatrice, Margaret was most happy for an engagement to proceed as planned."

  Roberts exited the room carrying the visitor's wraps and gloves. Beatrice looked up and noticed Rose as she entered the hallway.

  "Ah, Rose, there you are my dear child. We have guests who will be joining us for dinner. Let me introduce you, this is Lady Amelia Beauchamp and her lovely daughter the Lady Margaret Beauchamp."

  Rose gave a deep curtsy. "How do you do."

  The two responded in kind, "How do you do."

  Beatrice led the way toward the parlour where the men were already gathered. "Do come, I am sure you are most anxious to meet Miss Randolph's father and Mortimer will be delighted to see you both I am sure. It has been a while since we dined toget
her, has it not?"

  Rose watched the plump faced Lady Amelia lean over to Beatrice and the woman whispered loud enough for all to hear.

  "My dear, she is such a scrawny little thing. When we heard the news we simply couldn't stay away and we couldn't stand to wait for an invitation, hence my hasty note." Margaret tossed an arrogant look in Rose's direction. No doubt the pinched-face Margaret would resemble the plump Amelia in just a few short years. Rose smelled competition for her beau. If these fops thought she was going to roll over and play dead, they had another think coming. She narrowed her eyes at the two and mentally prepared for battle.

  When the group entered the withdrawing room, the men were smoking and drinking sherry. Benedict nearly spat out his mouthful with the unpleasant shock of seeing the pair of harridans accompanying his mother.

  "Lady Margaret, Lady Amelia, how extremely unexpected, um… how do you do?" Lady Amelia crossed to Benedict and tapped him on the arm with her fan in reprimand.

  "Naughty boy, you didn't think you could get away from us that easily did you? News of your engagement reached my ears and Margaret and I decided that we had to come and see for ourselves whether the news could possibly be true. So do tell, is this your Colonial intended?" Lady Amelia raised her eyebrows at Rose. She said the word 'Colonial' as if she were describing a bad smell.

  Benedict immediately moved to Rose's side. He put an arm possessively about her shoulders. Gazing down, he proudly stated, "You look quite lovely this evening, Rose. Ladies, may I present to you, my intended, Miss Rose Randolph of The Ashgrove Plantation in the Colony of Virginia. Rose Lady…" Lady Amelia stepped forward and interrupted rather rudely.

  "Benedict, your mother has already made introductions. I must say, she's not what we expected, dear me no, not at all." Lady Amelia sneered down at Rose and Margaret tittered, waving her fan about her face as if to ward off noxious odours emanating from Rose. They might hide behind British manners but these two were two of the rudest people that Rose had ever had the misfortune to meet.

  Beatrice attempted to ease the tension by introducing Henry Randolph to the mother and daughter. Lady Amelia had even less to say to Henry. Roberts arrived silently then coughed discretely. "Dinner is served, milady." Beatrice took Henry's arm and led her guests into the formal dining room.

  Rose found herself seated beside Lady Amelia. Margaret didn't speak very much, except to titter beside her mother in juvenile giggles. Henry Randolph attempted to engage the two ladies in conversation but Lady Amelia was completely disinterested in him.

  Leaning over toward Rose, Lady Amelia's gigantic bosom strained against the fabric of her dress. "It is somewhat strange to meet you, my dear Daisy."

  "My Lady, my name is Rose."

  "Whatever, they're both flowers," Lady Amelia replied. Meanwhile Margaret sniggered inanely at her mother's vicious wit.

  "I was saying, it is rather a surprise, my dear Miss Randolph, to find you affianced to Lord Mortimer. Did you know that my daughter, the Lady Margaret was expected to become engaged to Lord Mortimer? His reticence to make a formal proposal has cost him dearly for Lord Mortimer has now been relegated to be paired with a mere colonial chit and has missed the opportunity to marry one of his own set, the poor dear man. I am lucky enough to have the Queen's ear as her confidant and she is very dear to me. In fact, I don't think I would be wrong in telling you that we are almost good friends. I think that perhaps the King and Queen grew weary of waiting for Lord Mortimer to select his own wife and decided to use him as a political tool for the good of England and now he is stuck with just the leftovers from the Colony." Lady Amelia took a sip of wine when she had finished speaking.

  Rose was dumbfounded, how was she supposed to respond to vitriol such as this? It was bad enough that she and Benedict were being forced to marry but to find that he was using her as an escape from such a woman as Lady Amelia and her sour faced daughter Margaret was doubly difficult to swallow. Rose didn't care if this rude and arrogant woman had the ear of the Queen or not. Lady Amelia had no idea who she was toying with.

  The soup course was served and Rose picked up her spoon. She stirred it as it cooled and waited until Lady Amelia's attention was diverted elsewhere. Rose's accusing stare across the table at Benedict caused him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. She dipped her spoon into the soup and slurped it as loudly as she possibly could.

  "Oh, I've never had anything quite so delicious," said Rose and then in a groaning voice, "we don't have anything like this in the poor little old Colonies. Whatever is this wonderful broth, Lady Beatrice?" Rose took another spoonful and slurped even louder causing Lady Beatrice to give Rose a disconcerted look.

  "Why it is simply white soup my dear and I agree, it is quite delicious." Beatrice nervously went back to quietly sipping her own serving of soup whilst Rose returned to her loud slurping.

  "Do tell now what ingredients are in this delicious soup?" Rose asked, with a pronounced southern drawl.

  Benedict gave her a slight shake of his head but she pretended not to see him and ignored his scowling face.

  "Err, well I believe it is made of a veal stock, with added cream and almonds but I could arrange for you to speak with Cook if you would like the full recipe, Rose?"

  "Why that's real kind of your Ladyship, see we don't get such fancy food out in the little ole Colonies, ma'am!"

  Benedict coughed and glared at his mischievous intended, Rose continued to ignore him completely.

  Henry Randolph obviously felt the need to explain his daughter's odd behaviour because he then said, "White soup is indeed a rarity in Virginia, I agree with my daughter but we do have a quite rich and varied diet there."

  Roasted meats, duck, pheasant and venison were served next, along with side dishes of honeyed carrots, and French green beans. Rose loudly proclaimed her approval, "Ooh roast duck, how wonderful and, Lady Amelia, whatever are these cute li'ole green things? I've never seen anything like these before." Lady Amelia and Margaret stared at Rose and then down at her plate as the footman spooned a serving of seasonal green beans upon her plate.

  "Why… why, those are beans, dear child, we know them as French beans here. Do you really not have this vegetable within the Colonies?" Rose took her knife and stabbed at a pod. The bean shot out like a bullet and hit Lady Amelia in her very ample bosom, snaking immediately down the front of her dress; Rose naughtily chased after it.

  "Oh, oh my, Lady Amelia, how very clumsy of me… being from the colonies and all I…" Rose wiped at Lady Amelia's breast with her napkin and tried to retrieve the bean.

  "Stop it! Stop that this instant you wicked, wicked girl."

  Rose picked the duck from her plate and began to eat it with her fingers. Taking a huge bite, she stuffed her mouth full of the greasy meat.

  "I fought… 'oo 'eeded 'elp," Rose muttered, her mouth full of greasy duck.

  Benedict bought his fist down upon the table with a sudden crash. Everyone jumped and Rose conveniently knocked over her glass of wine which poured into Lady Amelia's lap.

  "Oh… I never… in all my life…" Lady Amelia jumped rapidly up from the table, her turkey gobble of double chins, hanging beneath her neck, flapping unattractively. The Lady Margaret began wiping ineffectively at her mother's dress front.

  "Your dress, Mama, it is absolutely ruined!"

  Benedict stepped around the table and grabbed Rose by her upper arm.

  He began to drag her unceremoniously away. "Come with me, Miss Randolph," he told her coldly in his haughty tone.

  "But I've only just begun," Rose mumbled, her mouth still full of food, a spray of which landed on Benedict's fine silk coat.

  "Believe me, you are quite finished here, my dear." Benedict held onto Rose and escorted her to the bottom of the stairs. "Go to your room immediately and stay there, miss. I will deal with you tomorrow. Oh, and wash the grease from your face, it is a most unattractive look, I do assure you!" Benedict pushed her up the first step after giving her a searing
smack upon her bottom. Rose let out a squeak of protest. "Upstairs, now!" Benedict ordered her, his voice furious.

  Rose stomped up the steps and this time, she made sure she did so as loudly as possible. Slamming her bedroom door, she flopped down on the bed and sobbed, beating the covers with her small fists.

  How could he! How could Benedict throw her out of the dining room like a naughty child when she was the one who had been so wronged? Rose didn't care who Lady Amelia and her insufferable daughter were. The very least Benedict could have done was stand up for her! Ooo, she was so angry she could scream… and to top it all, he said she looked so unattractive!

  When Eloise arrived to help her undress for bed later on, Rose asked her to simply leave her be. "Are you certain, miss? I know it's been a difficult evening for you, dear, but at least let me help you into your night gown." Rose reluctantly agreed and also to washing her greasy face. She finally lay down only to endure a fitful night's sleep. Awaking at dawn, she felt just as furious and hurt as she had the previous night.

  Chapter Nine

  Benedict rounded the bend of the gravel driveway that led down to the stables and stopped. He heard the sound of pounding hooves approaching fast. Horse and rider, melded as one, flew across the grass right in front of him. Benedict gasped, realizing the rider was none other than his fiancée Miss Rose Randolph and she was on Devil riding astride.

  He stood stock still, a tic twitching in his clenched jaw, watching as horse and rider disappeared over the brow of the hill and disappeared into the distance. He had most definitely told Rose that she should stay away from Devil and here she was quite deliberately defying him yet again. Benedict vowed that this would be absolutely the very last time Rose would dare to do that.

  He arrived at the stables in a filthy temper and barked at the stable lad to tack up Ariel, his chocolate brown gelding. Benedict waited impatiently for the horse to be saddled and tapped his riding boot with his crop. After a moment he looked down at the tapping leather, his hand slowed to a stop. Bringing the pliable crop up into his line of vision, he stared at the plaited leather of the crop, his eyes taking on a gleam.