Road to Rosewood

by Ashtyn Newbold

  I remembered Nicholas standing across the room. I had been silent for so long, absorbing the words I wished weren’t true. “Nicholas …” I shook my head. “How horrible. I …” My words refused to come the way I wanted them to. “I am very sorry.” My voice burned on the way out.

  His eyes were deep set and full of hurt, staring into mine from across the room.

  I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Now you know my secrets, Lucy. Are you satisfied? Was that precisely what you wished to hear?” His voice was tight and hoarse.

  A fresh wave of emotion came over me, but Nicholas didn’t wipe my tears this time. Instead he took his hat from atop the pianoforte and left the room without glancing back. The door shut and the tenseness in my body released, and I slumped to the sofa in sobs. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but when the door cracked open, I looked up, hastily swiping at my cheeks.

  The face of Mr. Rossington poked through the doorframe. I narrowed my eyes at him, squinting through my tears. I moved to my feet and crossed the room toward him.

  “Miss Abbot, what is the matter?” His voice grated.

  I tugged the door from his grip and stormed past him. It took all my concentration not to slap him across his face.

  Back in the safety of my room, I collapsed on my bed, burying my face in my pillow as I cried. It was unfair and cruel what Mr. Rossington had done. Nicholas had told me the truth; he had poured his heart out in front of me and held nothing in reserve. He had not given me a chance to accept him after he told me the truth. Would my answer have been different? Simply because he told me the truth didn’t change the fact that he needed the money that I could not offer him. He had claimed it did not matter. It was my way of protecting my heart, but what was I protecting it from? Did I still not trust Nicholas, even after all he had revealed to me? I searched my soul, but had no answer. Surely he thought me to be a coward and a fool, asking for too many answers of him. It was dreadful, the things he had told me. Of course he had worried over telling me.

  I drew a long, shaking breath and propped myself up on my elbow, trying to calm my tears. Nicholas would not attend the party tomorrow after what had just passed between us. I didn’t expect him to.

  I was a pathetic, stupid girl. A foolish girl, just as he had said years ago. He was right. He had always been right.

  NINETEEN

  I stood in front of the tall looking glass in my room the next afternoon, studying the deep red gown that had been made for me by the Rossingtons with the money that should have been given to the Bancrofts. I looked at the dress in disgust in an attempt to stop admiring it. But the color was striking, with long, fitted sleeves and beads placed intricately at the neckline. The satin skirts hung elegantly around my legs. It was the perfect length.

  My maid, Helen, assisted me in styling my hair, pulling it up into a loose coil at the crown of my head, decorating my curls with tiny silver pins shaped like roses. My cheeks were flushed with nervousness already, so she had no need to pinch them. My large brown eyes stared back at me in my reflection, sparking with confidence. I couldn’t decide if I wanted Nicholas to be at the party or not. It would only be awkward and painful if he was. But if he wasn’t there, I would spend the evening wishing he was there to dance the waltz with me.

  When I walked outside that evening to enter the carriage, my heart leapt.

  Sitting inside was Nicholas.

  His eyes met mine in the dim light, flashing with admiration. But there was also the reflection of broken things in his face, and it stabbed me with remorse. He looked too handsome with his hair combed and his jaw freshly shaven. Taking a deep breath of fortitude, I smiled at him, trying to assure him somehow that I was sorry. He stared at me in silence. He didn’t offer a smile in return, but turned his head toward the window.

  The ride to Stanton manor was every bit as uncomfortable as I imagined it would be. Nicholas sat straight across from me, Mr. Parsons directly beside me, and thankfully Kitty and her husband took our carriage instead of riding with her father and the Tattershalls. I had noted the tension between Nicholas and Mr. Rossington, so it was not surprising that they had taken separate carriages. But the tension between Mr. Parsons and Nicholas was heavy as well.

  Mr. Parsons didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact he seemed quite pleased that Nicholas had arrived in the first place. But I could see the annoyed looks Nicholas threw Mr. Parsons through the dimness of the carriage each time Mr. Parsons leaned his head close to mine and whispered, which he had done many times already.

  I met Nicholas’s gaze several times throughout the drive, and our knees brushed every time we hit a bump on the road. Nicholas’s gaze burned through my face as we drove; I could feel it without needing to look back or make eye contact. For most of the ride, I focused my attention out the window beside me, wishing I could jump out of it. I wished I could tease and laugh with Nicholas, apologize for not understanding why he wanted to keep his secrets, but nothing would be same after I rejected his proposal. Never had I wished to erase a moment in time more than I did now. But it was impossible.

  Just when I had determined to ignore him, I glanced up involuntarily and he met my eyes with a smile in the dark.

  Why?

  I flitted my gaze away as quickly as I could, staring at my hands in my lap. My heart beat fast and my palms were slick with sweat. It was suddenly far too hot in that carriage. Perhaps he didn’t hate me now. Perhaps he had seen the apology in my smile when I entered the carriage. We had always been able to communicate well without words.

  I blew a puff of air at my forehead to clear the fallen curls from my eyes. Mr. Parsons leaned over and asked if I was well. Nicholas frowned at him.

  At last we arrived at Stanton manor, and I scrambled out of the carriage before Nicholas or Mr. Parsons could offer to help me down. I almost sighed as the cool night air breezed past my skin. Nicholas approached from behind and wrapped my hand around the bend of his arm, just as he had so many times. I caught my breath, pressing my lips together and glancing up at him.

  “I told you to be careful about throwing that look to every man that glances your way,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “I do not throw this look to every man that glances my way.”

  “Just the ones you wish to torture?” His head was leaned down far too close to my ear, and his breath tickled my hair against my cheek.

  “I have never tried to torture you.” My voice was weak.

  “Then why do you push me away?”

  My heart leapt and I watched the ground as we walked. I didn’t know how to answer. I cleared my throat, attempting a smooth change of subject. “Are you looking forward to seeing Lord and Lady Stanton again?”

  He was silent, frustrated by my avoidance of his question no doubt. “Again? I have never made their acquaintance.”

  I scowled at the ground. How strange. Mr. Parsons had told me that Nicholas had once been acquainted with them, and that was why they insisted upon his attendance tonight. “Mr. Parsons believed you to be well acquainted with the family. He insisted that you come tonight.”

  Nicholas’s brow furrowed. “Mr. Parsons insisted that I come?”

  I bit my lip. I hadn’t meant to tell him that part. Luckily we reached the house and were joined by the rest of the party as they arrived. We followed behind Kitty as we entered Stanton Manor. I understood why Mr. Parsons had been so enamored by the prospect of attending this party. The house was simple yet elegant, brightly lit by the sconces on the walls. It wasn’t as large or grand as Rosewood or Willowbourne, but there were many fine decorations and ornaments that sparkled in the candlelight. I felt slightly overdressed in my red gown, as most of the ladies that entered the house were dressed in pale colors and simple sleeves. It was a larger group than I had anticipated, and I noticed the eyes of several gentlemen flit in my direction as we gathered in the expansive drawing room. I had often drawn many gazes for my eccentric choices of headwear and jewelry, but never dres
sed as simply as I was now. I could feel Nicholas standing nearby, and I gained the courage to look at him. Nicholas didn’t speak, but just offered me another of his devastating smiles, fluttering my heart and warming me to my toes. A dramatic gasp came from behind the pianoforte where we stood.

  “Nicholas Bancroft?” a sly voice asked before Nicholas could speak to me. I turned toward the sound. For a moment I didn’t recognize her, but then my heart dropped.

  “Miss Hyatt.” Nicholas gave a polite smile, his expression lifting in mild surprise.

  A pretty young woman standing beside her piped in, “Not Miss Hyatt any longer.”

  “Ah, are you married now?” Nicholas asked. I studied his face, my pulse pounding as I watched the interaction from beside him. He didn’t appear to be genuinely curious, but asking to be polite. But I didn’t like the smile she gave him, fluttering her lashes the way she was. I didn’t like it one bit. She looked the same as I remembered her, with honey blonde hair and thick eyelashes and bright hazel eyes. Although she was older now, her face still carried the youthfulness and flirtatiousness of a girl at her first London season.

  “It is Mrs. Elkins now, but I am recently widowed.” She cast her eyes down before glancing back up at Nicholas.

  “I offer my condolences,” he said. “Have you fallen on difficult times?”

  The woman beside her leaned forward, as if by a previously planned strategy, and remarked, “She is lonely, that is all. But her thirty thousand pounds are supporting her quite well financially.” Her voice trailed off at the end and she eyed Mrs. Elkins with a miniscule grin.

  “I am happy that you will be comfortable in that aspect, then.”

  My eyes were glued to Nicholas, trying to analyze every expression that crossed his face. But his features were smooth and unreadable. He didn’t blink. Did he realize what Miss Hyatt was scheming? The way she looked at him made me ill—the obvious longing and flirting. Here was a beautiful, wealthy woman that would marry Nicholas without a second thought. As much as I had supported the idea the day before, it now sat dull and painful in my chest, twisting against my heart, threatening destruction. But I thought of Nicholas’s family. Of the debts that weighed on him and the small child that needed to be fed.

  Miss Hyatt seemed to realize I was standing there. My petite size could not hide me forever. I swallowed as she appraised me with a discreet eye, her face hovering with recognition. She jerked her attention back to Nicholas. “Who might this be?” Her hand swept in my direction.

  He glanced down at me. I was sickened with dread. In my mind I could still see the expression he had worn six years ago when I had approached him and Miss Hyatt at the garden. He had glanced down with casualness and annoyance then, treating me like a pest.

  My heart hammered with vulnerability and I could hardly manage to look at him. I was afraid of what I would see. I felt like I was sinking into the floor; I desperately wished I could sink into the floor.

  Nicholas shifted closer, and I felt myself stop sinking. My nerves settled and I dared to look at his face. “This is Miss Lucy Abbot, my dearest and most unexpected friend.” Every doubt and fear dispelled under his gaze and I gave him a shy smile.

  Mrs. Elkins cleared her throat, tearing my gaze away from Nicholas. “I thought I had seen you once before.” She rubbed her chin with one delicate finger. “Miss Abbot, have you and Nicholas been long acquainted?”

  “Yes … since we were children.” My voice shook and I hated myself for it. Jealousy and inferiority boiled within me until I could hardly breathe. Mrs. Elkins was obviously interested in marrying Nicholas. She was wealthy and beautiful.

  A heavy aching started in my chest. It was the perfect opportunity for Nicholas to repay his debts and help his family. He would be a fool not to take it. And I suddenly felt like a fool for endorsing it. I was destroying my own heart in the process.

  “Please excuse me,” I said in a quick voice before I could be questioned further. I didn’t want her to remember that I was the little girl that had given Nicholas a love note.

  “Lucy,” Nicholas said as I stepped away. His voice faded away before I could hear the rest.

  Kitty was on the other end of the room, and thankfully as I reached her, our hosts guided us to the dining room. I was escorted by a young man named Mr. Drew, with thick black hair and a severe brow. In the dining room, I noticed Mr. Parsons sitting between two young women. His eyes never ventured my way. It confused me—he had appeared so attached to me. Why was he now acting as if he didn’t even know I was in the room? Occasionally I saw his eyes shift to Nicholas, narrowed, discreetly watching.

  I ate just a little of my meal, not feeling well enough to enjoy the delicious-looking courses that came to the long, full table. I didn’t engage in any conversation either. I drank my entire goblet, but with each sip seemed to feel more and more ill. I was nauseated, and more than once I felt my food come halfway up my throat. I refused to vomit in the middle of the dining room. Mr. Drew leaned toward me.

  “Are you well, Miss Abbot? You are quite pale.”

  I shook my head, afraid if I spoke that I would faint or vomit.

  “Perhaps a bit of fresh air would be beneficial? I would be happy to escort you.”

  I nodded, grateful for Mr. Drew’s attentiveness. He mumbled his excuses to our host before standing. The group was large enough that they didn’t notice Mr. Drew help me stand from my chair and escort me from the room. Nicholas did notice, though. I saw his eyes follow me with concern. He moved, as if he intended to stand, but Mr. Parsons asked him a question before he could leave. The entirety of the table focused their attention on Nicholas and his eyes flicked to me one more time before he sat back in defeat.

  Kitty nudged her husband before leaning to whisper to our hostess as well.

  The hallway was well lit outside of the dining room, and Mr. Drew led me outside. He was a very small, stout man, likely only a few years older than me. I thanked him, but my voice was muffled to my own ears. Kitty and Mr. Turner appeared beside me just as I vomited on the neat grass. She must have worried over me being alone out of doors with a strange man.

  “Oh, Lucy,” Kitty said in a nurturing voice. I shook as I stood up and faced her. “You look quite ill. Shall we send you back to Rosewood?”

  Mr. Drew eyed her with annoyance, as if her presence here was not welcome. I thanked her with my eyes for coming out here. “I will be just fine, but the outside air is quite refreshing. Will you stay with me a little longer?”

  “We shall stay out here as long as you need, Miss Abbot. Take as long as your recovery requires.” Mr. Drew cut in. His voice was friendly and loud.

  Kitty motioned for me to take her arm to steady myself. I could not leave without dancing with Nicholas. I needed him to know that I was not pushing him away. That I trusted him. But Miss Hyatt was here … would he not dance with her instead? As much as I told myself to support the idea of Nicholas marrying her for his family’s advantage, I couldn’t bear the thought of him dancing with someone else but me.

  I stayed outside for several minutes, and I could see the ladies already in the drawing room through the nearest window. Taking one last breath of fresh air, I put on a smile. “Shall we return to the party?”

  Mr. Drew eyed the window with speculation, searching for someone through the glass. Kitty clasped her hand around my arm and nodded. “If you are feeling well enough.”

  “I am.” My voice was distant. I was focused on Mr. Drew and his intent study of the window.

  “Do not walk too quickly,” he stammered. “It will unsettle your stomach.”

  Something was very strange with the way Mr. Drew was behaving. I glanced back at him with a false smile. “I feel quite recovered, Mr. Drew.”

  Mr. Turner opened the door and Kitty led me through it. Mr. Drew kept close behind us as we walked through the hall. As we passed the dining room, the men were exiting, jeering heartily as they made their way to the drawing room. The candlelight glo
wed off each of their faces as they passed me, but Nicholas was not among them. I frowned, tipping my head to catch a glimpse inside the dining room. The door was ajar, but the group of men hid most of the room from my sight. But then I saw the end of the table. Nicholas and Mr. Parsons were the only two that remained sitting. As Nicholas stood, Mr. Drew stepped in front of me. “Are you certain you’re well, Miss Abbot?”

  “Yes!” I said in an exasperated voice. Kitty shot me a look of dismay. “I mean—yes, thank you for asking.” I strained my neck to see Mr. Parsons cross the table to Nicholas. He leaned his head down and whispered something. Nicholas’s eyes widened just as the door closed them from my sight.

  “Come now, let us claim the comfortable seats in the drawing room before they are all occupied.” Mr. Drew smiled and hooked my arm around his. Mr. Turner and Kitty joined arms as well as we entered the room. What had I just witnessed? Why were Nicholas and Mr. Parsons interacting? As far as I could tell, they despised one another.

  The other ladies in the room took turns at the pianoforte, but I sat in silence in the corner settee beside Kitty, trying to figure out what was happening with Nicholas and Mr. Parsons. When the men joined us in the drawing room, I noticed that Nicholas and Mr. Parsons were absent. Where had they gone? What had Mr. Parsons whispered to Nicholas in the dining room? My thoughts whirled. Nicholas had suggested that he did not trust Mr. Parsons. Had he been correct not to trust him? My stomach stirred with unease, suspicion toward Mr. Parsons flooding me. Did he intend to harm Nicholas?

  Several minutes later, Mr. Parsons entered the room alone. My heart sunk. He smiled at me for the first time all evening, but I didn’t smile back. Crossing the room to me, he walked with purpose, his neat, handsome appearance enough to catch the eye of several women of the room. I noticed a small group of women whispering as they watched him, as if they had never seen him before. I found that strange. An eligible, wealthy bachelor such as what Mr. Parsons claimed to be would not go unnoticed in a town like Dover. He would be the prize to be won among so many unmarried ladies.