by Linda Sole
She was above his station, and besides, she was going to be married in a couple of weeks. He had to put Miss Thornton out of his mind and think of something else. Mounting his own horse, he set off across the common. Hopefully he would find the wretched beast that had unseated her before it damaged itself or returned to the stables. She didn’t want to confess she’d come off to her brother’s grooms.
Tom admitted to himself that he’d fallen in love with a woman he could never have. He was a fool but he’d get over it. Mary Jane was willing, even eager to wed him. Once she was his wife he’d have better things to do than moon over Roz Thornton like a lovesick calf.
Roz reined in her horse and turned to look at the man who had insisted on accompanying her back to the hall.
‘I can manage now. How can I thank you?’
‘I need no thanks, miss. Just make sure you watch how you go in future.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ride him again. Besides, I shan’t be here much longer. You know that I am getting married soon?’
Why had she told him? Was it because for a few minutes as he’d held her she’d felt something between them? No, that was stupid. His brother had murdered her father. The gap between them was too wide to be breached. Yet she’d felt the need to make him aware of her marriage – why?
‘It’s common knowledge in these parts. I wish you every happiness.’
‘Thank you.’ Roz sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be happy but I may be content.’ She urged her horse forward at a walk, then glanced back. ‘I’ll take some books to the farm, Mr Blake. You can return them to the dower house when you wish – keep them as long as you like.’
She thought he shook his head but she had already made up her mind to select some of her books for him. He said he read anything but he probably did not have access to some of the latest novels. She would take him Mr Stevenson’s Treasure Island, something by Henry James and of course George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss, which she had just read for the second time herself.
As she rode into the yard Roderick came hurrying out to take the bridle as she dismounted. She saw him checking the horse for injury and smiled inwardly. She was fortunate that Tom Blake had caught the horse for her. If Rascal had returned to the stable alone and injured she would have found it humiliating.
Smiling, she nodded to the groom and set off for the dower house. She had been away longer than she intended because Mrs Blake had been talkative and she had felt it would be rude to rush away even when Tom returned with the horse.
She had enjoyed herself. The farmhouse kitchen was large and clean. Roz suspected it was cleaner than the kitchen at the hall and there had been a lovely smell of herbs and baking. Sitting in the rocking chair by the inglenook, Roz had been reluctant to leave. She thought that if she’d been Ellen Blake’s daughter she would have been content to stay at home.
Laughing at her own thoughts, Roz shook her head. Her future was set; to change things now would cause unnecessary hurt and scandal. Besides, what changes were open to her? The smile faded as Roz faced reality. She had escaped for an hour or two but nothing had changed.
‘Do you think I’m pretty?’ Mary Jane asked as Tom brought her a glass of lemon barley. ‘Jack Dawson was here a minute ago. He wanted me to dance but I said I was with you.’
The village hall was not large and crowded with men and women: some young couples and others who had come as a family for a Saturday night treat. The noise of laughter and children’s voices could be heard above the fiddler and Mrs Swindon banging away with more enthusiasm than skill on the pianoforte.
‘Well, I brought you here, but you can dance with anyone you like.’ Tom gave her a brooding look. ‘You’re pretty, Mary Jane – the prettiest girl here, but I’ve promised nothing. You’re free to dance with Jack if you want.’
‘Don’t be so sharp, Tom,’ Mary Jane said. ‘You know you’re the only one I want.’
Tom drank deeply of his beer. It was his third that evening. He couldn’t shake off his feelings of loss and regret. Mary Jane was here and willing. He only had to say the word and she’d do anything he asked. It was ridiculous to lie in bed at night with his body and mind on fire with need, thinking of Roz. Sometimes he let himself dream of kissing her – of taking her. Tom wouldn’t take her in a hurry the way his mates took girls down behind the riverbank. Silk sheets and Roz in a white gown of lace . . . Tom brought his thoughts back to the present. Mary Jane was looking at him oddly. He put his empty glass down.
‘This one is a barn dance. I can do that – give me your hand.’ She hesitated and he arched his brow. ‘Do you want to dance or not?’
‘I want to dance – but you know what I want more, Tom Blake. I want you to wed me.’
‘Well, mebbe I will,’ he said and grinned at her. ‘You be nice to me later, Mary Jane, and we’ll see.’
‘I’ll be good to you,’ she said and giggled. ‘You’ll be bound to marry me then, Tom Blake – or your ma will take her stick to your backside.’
Tom smiled and pulled her close to him, whispering in her ear. She giggled and nibbled at his neck. Tom felt his body respond. She was pretty and tempting – and she was available.
Seven
‘You look beautiful.’ Lady Thornton dabbed at her eyes with a lace kerchief. ‘I am so proud of you – and so pleased you’ve found a decent man to marry.’
Roz kissed her cheek. ‘Harry says we shall be away for about three weeks. I think he is taking me to Paris but I’m not certain. Philip should be home before then so you will have Julia for company.’
‘It won’t be the same as having you,’ Lady Thornton said and sniffed. ‘Mr Rushden says I shall be welcome at the Towers whenever I wish. You will invite me to stay sometimes, Roz?’
‘Of course, Mama. I think we should go down now. I don’t want to keep Harry waiting at the altar.’
‘You are happy about this?’ Lady Thornton laid a gloved hand on her arm.
‘Why should I want to change my mind?’ Roz lifted her head. ‘You can visit your friends or us whenever you wish, Mama. If you’re lonely you could take on a companion.’
‘I suppose so.’ Lady Thornton smiled but Roz saw regret in her eyes.
Picking up the spray of white lilies and roses that Harry had sent for her, Roz gathered her long skirt for the slow walk down the stairs. In the hall several servants, relatives and friends had gathered. Her uncle, Matthew Rooke, looked up at her and smiled. He was her mother’s elder brother: white-haired, gentle and a bachelor, he lived alone in a house filled with dogs and clocks, which he loved in equal measure.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured as she reached him. ‘I never expected this honour, m’dear. Philip should have given you away, but I’m glad you chose me.’
‘Harry didn’t want to wait – and I would rather it was you.’ Roz took his arm. ‘Your gifts are much appreciated by us both.’
‘I wanted you to have something nice for yourself as well as the silver candelabra.’ He nodded as she showed him that she was wearing the pearl and diamond bracelet he had given her. ‘You won’t be forgotten when I’ve gone, m’dear.’
‘I would rather have you than anything you might leave me. You’ve always been a second father to me – and someone I can trust.’
Her uncle patted her hand. ‘I’ve told your mother she can come and stay with me if she’s lonely, but I doubt she will.’
‘That was kind of you, uncle.’
‘Well, I felt I ought to ask, but truth to tell I’m used to my own ways and I dare say Amelia is the same.’
Roz laughed softly. They went out to the waiting carriage. The sun was shining but there was a definite bite to the air. Roz shivered and her uncle glanced at her in concern.
‘Are you cold, girl? Do you want to send for a shawl before we leave?’
‘I shall be fine. The breeze is a little cool but once we’re in the carriage it will be warmer.’
‘Might be cold in church,’ her uncle warned but she to
ok the groom’s hand and climbed into the carriage. Matthew followed and gave the order to move off.
Roz waved to the servants who had waited outside to see her off. Many of them had come down from the hall for the occasion and her mother had given orders that a celebration should be held for the servants at the hall. Yet her mind seemed to be wandering, skittering here and there like spring lambs. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ellen Blake’s kitchen – how warm and comfortable it had been, and Tom Blake holding her when she felt faint. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met – apart from Paul Richmond. A shudder went through her and she hastily blocked out the memory of that night.
‘I told you it was cold.’
‘I’m not cold, uncle. Just a little nervous.’
‘Rushden is a decent fellow. He’ll be good to you. If he isn’t you let me know and I’ll sort him for you.’
‘Harry loves me.’
Would he know that he wasn’t the first with her? Roz had tried not to think about it but the guilt had stayed at the back of her mind all this time. She ought to have been honest with Harry, even if he had claimed whatever she told him wouldn’t matter.
The carriage was drawing to a halt. When it stopped, her uncle got out and then offered his hand. She climbed down, shaking her skirts out and glancing about her. Several people were outside the church and she heard cries of good wishes. A man was standing slightly apart from the others. She wanted to wave and smile at Tom Blake but somehow she couldn’t manage it. He inclined his head to her, then turned and walked away. Roz felt cold all over. Her uncle offered his arm as she hesitated. For a moment she wanted to run away. She wanted to run after Tom Blake and ask him to take her far from here, somewhere she would be safe and warm.
‘Anything wrong, m’dear?’
‘No, uncle. Everything is fine, thank you.’
She took his arm and walked into church as the organ started to play.
‘You are so beautiful, Roz,’ Harry said and lifted his champagne glass to her. ‘I know I’ve been saying the same thing ever since we left the church, but I can’t believe my own luck. I kept thinking you would change your mind.’
‘I was scared on the way to church,’ Roz admitted. ‘Don’t put me on a pedestal, Harry. I’m just a woman.’
‘You’re the woman I love,’ he replied and touched her hand as she toyed with her wineglass. ‘I feel blessed – honoured. I’ll be good to you, lass.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Roz sipped her champagne. Her eyes moved round the room. There were more guests here than had come for Philip’s wedding, most of them Harry’s friends and relatives. ‘I need very little – but I do want to be a good wife.’ She lifted her eyes to meet his. ‘Please believe that, Harry.’
‘Aye, I know.’ He looked thoughtful, as if sensing her apprehension. ‘We’d best circulate, Roz. We’ll be leaving soon and I’ve hardly spoken to some of our guests.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll throw my bouquet for the young girls.’
Roz walked across the room, stopping now and then to greet people and exchange kisses before reaching the table where her mother and a few of the ladies had gathered earlier to join in the toasts and gossip.
‘I’m going up in a few minutes, Mama. I’m ready to throw my bouquet now.’
‘Stand on the stairs and do it,’ Lady Thornton said and then called out to some young girls loitering nearby. ‘Roz is going to throw her bouquet, girls.’
Some of the ladies and a group of giggling girls followed them into the magnificent entrance hall. Roz walked up three of the wide stairs then tossed her bouquet over her shoulder and turned to watch. The girls were laughing and jostling with each other and Miss Mary Jenkins caught the bouquet, laughing in triumph as she held it up for everyone to see.
‘I’ll be married next,’ she said.
‘I’ll come up with you, Roz,’ Lady Thornton said, a suspicion of tears in her eyes.
‘Yes, of course, Mama.’
Rushden Towers was not the medieval fortress its grand name suggested but a rather ugly Victorian house, square and unappealing. However, Harry had built a new facade of a long porch with elegant pillars and an imposing front door. He had also planted an avenue of ornamental cherry trees which softened the approach.
Roz had visited her new home with Harry a few days before the wedding and he’d given her a tour and shown Roz her own apartments, which were adjacent to his.
‘This looks very smart,’ Lady Thornton said as she followed Roz inside the suite of sitting room, dressing room and bedchamber.
‘Harry had most of the house refurbished recently. Do you like the more modern style, Mama? I think I do – though there are too many knickknacks in here. I shall put a few of these ornaments away once I’ve settled in, but I don’t wish to offend Harry by doing it all at once.’
‘Too many frills and tassels,’ Lady Thornton said. ‘I dare say you will teach your husband to have better taste, Roz. You can’t make a silk purse out of . . .’ She faltered as she saw Roz’s look. ‘Harry is a gentleman; I shan’t say otherwise but some of his family . . .’
Roz frowned at her mother. ‘Harry’s grandfather bought the farm and his father was a farmer too, but he was sent to a good school and he is as much a gentleman as Philip – perhaps more so. I like the house, though I may change things a little in time.’
‘I am sure Harry will tell you to rearrange what you like,’ Lady Thornton said and picked up a solid silver pot from the dressing table. ‘Everything is good quality – and this has your initials on it, Roz.’
‘Harry is very thoughtful and generous.’
‘Yes, he is.’
A maid knocked and entered. She dipped a curtsey to Roz and asked if she could help, coming to assist with the hooks at the back of her bodice.
‘Thank you, May,’ Roz said as she took away the beautiful silk wedding dress. ‘You can help me with the carriage gown and leave me to finish.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ The girl looked shy. ‘The master says I’m to come with you and look after your things – if that pleases you, Mrs Rushden?’
‘I’m very happy to have your services, May. I’m sure we shall get on well.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. Is there anything else you need?’
Roz looked at the bed where her hat, gloves and reticule had been laid ready. ‘I believe you have thought of everything.’ She unclasped the bracelet from her arm but left on the pearls at her throat. ‘Please put this in my jewel case and take it with you when you go down.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll take good care of your things.’
‘I am sure you will.’ Roz smiled as the girl picked up her jewellery case, placed the bracelet inside and locked it, giving the key to Roz. She slipped it into the reticule and the girl left. Roz fitted the hat at a jaunty angle. It was green velvet with curling black feathers which set off her travelling gown of emerald green trimmed with jet on the fitted jacket. ‘Will I do, Mama?’
‘You look just as you ought.’ Her mother kissed her cheek. ‘Be happy, Roz.’
‘Yes, I think I shall.’
Roz nodded and then gathered up her things and went out. Some of the guests had gathered in the large hall and were waiting to greet her with cheers as she went down to them. Her gaze paused for a moment on a gentleman she had seen only briefly when he congratulated them after the wedding. She was a little surprised that he had actually come, though she knew Harry had invited him and he had sent them a set of fine Derby porcelain for dinner and dessert. He inclined his head and she did the same, and then Harry was moving towards her.
‘Roz, lass,’ he said. ‘You look more beautiful than ever – are you ready to leave?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She took his hand, glancing back at her mother. Lady Thornton was sniffing into her kerchief and being comforted by Uncle Matthew. ‘Uncle, Mama, thank you both. I shall see you very soon.’
Harry led her outside to the carriage. They were greeted by a group of mischi
evous children who showered them with rice and rose petals. Harry sheltered her, laughing as he helped her inside the comfortable carriage. She leaned forward to wave as the guests crowded outside to see them off.
‘The reception went well,’ Harry said. ‘I’m a sociable man, Roz. We’ll entertain our friends often in the future, but I’m glad it’s over for today. I wanted to be alone with you.’
‘We shall be alone for the next three weeks.’
‘Apart from May, my man, and the grooms,’ he agreed. ‘I dare say we’ll meet people when we’re in Paris. You guessed that was where I meant to take you?’
‘You spoke of my buying clothes in fashionable houses. I thought you might mean Paris. You do know I already have several new gowns?’
‘Aye, but nothing compared to what you deserve, lass. I may be a bit rough about the edges despite going to Cambridge, but you’re a lady and I know what you’re due. Besides, I’m going to enjoy spoiling you.’
‘Are you?’
‘We’ll stop at a decent hotel for the night and take the ship tomorrow afternoon. I think you’ll enjoy Paris, lass.’
‘Oh yes, I want to explore. Have you been before, Harry?’
‘My father sent me on a tour there after I came down from Cambridge. I missed the fens and the mists of England and couldn’t be doing with all that sunshine – but I dare say I shall like it better this time.’
‘Because I’m with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Come here, Harry.’
‘I didn’t want to crush your dress.’
‘My dress doesn’t matter.’
He lurched across the moving carriage and landed on the seat beside her, laughing as he half fell against her. ‘Now see what I’ve done. I’m a clumsy oaf.’
‘You’re a kind, generous man, Harry Rushden, and I’m glad I married you.’ She gazed up at him. ‘Why don’t you kiss me?’
‘If I start I might not know when to leave off.’
‘We are married.’ She leaned towards him, taking his face between her hands. ‘I’m not made of porcelain, Harry. I shan’t break if you touch me.’
