How easy it would be for Sir Walter to arrange something similar to happen to her once she left the protection of Melton Castle and returned home to Donnington Hall.
Then, like water falling onto parched ground, Rosanna heard the Earl speaking.
And the languid, aristocratic drawl had vanished. His voice was terse and crisp, ringing with sincerity.
“I am afraid that I have nothing further to say on this matter, Sir Walter. You speak of this lady ‘belonging’ to you, as if she is no more than a piece of porcelain or a saddle and bridle. I am afraid I can have no part in this and – as you can see – I have rung for my butler to show you out.”
Through the gap between the two parts of the screen, Rosanna watched as Mr. Digby politely, but disdainfully, held open the door.
Sir Walter pushed his way past him with a snarl, but turned on his heel to confront Lord Melton once more.
“You will be sorry for this, Melton,” he hissed, his florid face purple with rage, little flecks of spittle settling on his chin.
“I don’t know what game you are playing, but I reckon you’ve got your eye on Lady Rosanna Donnington and the Donnington Racecourse. That’s it, isn’t it? Be a nice little addition to your estate, wouldn’t it? The land and the house and a pretty, biddable girl to take to your bed.
“And once you had full access to the Racecourse, your horses would be far superior to all others. Well, you won’t win! I will see to that. Just watch your back!”
And then he was gone and Rosanna could have sworn that the whole room seemed lighter and fresher with his departure.
Taking a deep breath, because now was the moment of accountability, she stepped out from behind the screen.
The Earl turned and gazed down at her, his expression unreadable.
Rosanna lifted her chin and gazed at the man who, so recently, had been her patient.
She was not scared.
She knew him too well. He was kind and honest and even if he was angry with her, she knew he would treat her with courtesy.
He bowed, formally.
“Lady Rosanna Donnington.”
She dropped him a brief curtsy.
“Lord Melton.”
His lips twitched and he held out his hand.
“This is indeed a strange meeting, madam. You are strangely similar to the nurse who has looked after me so well during my recent illness. Indeed, you could almost be sisters!”
Rosanna looked up into his dark eyes and with a surge of relief saw they were not angry at all, but twinkling with laughter.
“Perhaps she comes from another branch of my family, my Lord!”
“Indeed, perhaps she does!”
Then the merriment died from his face and he led her to the window seat.
Rosanna sank down on the blue velvet cushions and said,
“I must apologise most sincerely, Lord Melton, for deceiving you in such a fashion. Believe me, I would not have entered into this disguise if I’d had any other choice. I only hope that my lack of nursing skills has not harmed you in any way.”
She bit her lip.
“I appreciate that my behaviour has been – well – not what you would expect from a lady of my standing. I can only guess at what my dear departed Mama would have said had been alive to see me. But, my Lord, my circumstances have been so dire – I needed to escape from – well you heard that dreadful man’s words, you can see what I was trying to escape.”
Lord Melton sat beside her, wincing a little as the wound on his leg still had the power to hurt him.
“Madam, if it would not cause you too much pain, I would be grateful if you could enlighten me as to what has transpired. I take it, of course, that you are Lady Rosanna, the new owner of Donnington Hall.”
Rosanna nodded and swiftly told her story – of her vast inheritance from her great-uncle, the various marriage proposals that had so swiftly come her way from fortune hunters, Sir Walter’s insistence that she become his wife, her flight to the country and Sir Walter’s dogged pursuit.
Rosanna shuddered.
“He is hateful, appalling. He is so determined to marry me, but at the root of his obsession is my money and the Racecourse and horses at Donnington Hall. He talks of nothing else.”
She felt herself blushing.
“Indeed, I know that is what drives him on. It is not my person. I am not so vain as to believe I have that sort of power to attract a man.”
Lord Melton ran his fingers through his dark, unruly hair, looking grave. He had sensed a wild, almost insane quality to Sir Walter’s behaviour that was unsettling even to him. He could only imagine how terrifying it would seem to a young lady.
The fact that this particular young lady seated next to him had actually succeeded in foiling her pursuer twice was not lost on him.
“You say your maid is living in my stables?” he said now, turning to the second incredible part of her story.
“Edie Robinson, yes. It was her name I took for mine! In the heat of the moment I could think of no other. Sir Walter threw her out of Donnington Hall when she arrived from London and she made her way here.”
She smiled warmly.
“Indeed, I think your head groom has taken a fancy to her and she to him! There is, apparently, a little room at the end of the stables where records are kept. She is sleeping there, but seems to spend most of her time in John Barker’s cottage taking care of his little daughter!”
Lord Melton frowned.
He was just beginning to realise how much had been going on at the Castle without his knowledge while he had been so ill.
“Oh, please don’t be angry with John!” Rosanna begged, correctly guessing what the expression on his face meant. “He only wanted to help, and believe me, Edie can be very persuasive.”
Lord Melton gazed down into her cornflower blue eyes and reluctantly smiled.
It was very hard to say no to this young woman, sitting there so prim and proper in her over large nurse’s uniform.
He reached over and tweaked her severe white cap with one long finger.
“Do you need to keep that monstrosity on your head now that your identity has been revealed?”
Rosanna blushed and reaching up her hand, pulled off the nurse’s head-dress.
As it came away, it caught at the pins holding up her hair and her golden locks tumbled down around her shoulders like a cloud of blonde spun sugar.
Lord Melton gasped and stared at her, his dark eyes wide with astonishment.
“Why, you are my angel!” he cried. “The vision who looked after me at the inn on my way home from Bath when I was feeling so ill!”
Rosanna nodded.
“I was travelling to Donnington Hall for the very first time, my Lord. One of the horses lost a shoe, so we stopped at the inn while he was shod. I was so worried to see a gentleman so cast down by affliction, lying alone and unattended.”
Lord Melton bowed his head.
“I am in your debt, Lady Rosanna. Indeed, I have something of yours I must return.”
Rosanna looked at him in puzzlement as he reached into his breeches pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled white handkerchief edged with fine lace.
“This is yours, I believe,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “You used it to mop my brow and I have kept it by me ever since.”
Rosanna stood up and dropped him a small curtsy.
“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered as she held out her hand to take it.
Lord Melton stared down into eyes that were deep and honest. He was shocked by the flood of emotion he experienced as their fingers touched.
Feelings were racing through him that he had never experienced. But it was far too soon to declare himself to this young woman. And – he realised with a shock – they were alone, unchaperoned and she was no longer his nurse.
Suddenly there was a commotion in the passageway outside. A strident female voice could be heard.
“Get out of my way, Digby. Of course Lord Melton is at hom
e to me. What rubbish!”
“Verity Blackwood!” the Earl snapped. “She must not find us alone, Lady Rosanna. Your reputation will suffer if she does.”
With a gasp of horror, Rosanna spun away, cramming her hair into the nurse’s cap which she pulled down over her ears as far as she could.
She picked up a cushion that had fallen on the floor and tried to look busy tidying the room.
Lord Melton just had time to lie back in his chair when the door flew open and Lady Verity stalked in. Wearing an elegant riding costume in dark green, with lace at the neck, she was tall and stately, every inch the aristocratic lady.
Rosanna felt very small and grubby in her dark grey uniform. But she only hoped that the very plainness of her garb meant she would fade successfully into the background.
“William, how good it is to see you again and looking so much better,” Verity said, dropping an elegant bob and extending her gloved hand to the Earl.
He touched her hand briefly.
“Lady Verity. A pleasure, madam. What brings you back to Melton Castle. Is George with you?”
Lady Verity tossed her head and sat down next to him, saying,
“I am staying with Sir James and Lady Carling, my aunt and uncle. They live just ten miles away, as you know. My brother refused to leave London. His affairs – which seem to involve a gambling club – require his constant attendance.”
“Surely you are not alone, madam? It is very late to be travelling on horseback.”
Lady Verity smiled.
“I thank you for your concern, William. Of course I would never ride out alone. I was accompanied by a groom. Indeed, I did not mean to ride so far from Carling Manor, but the beauty of your estate led me further and further afield until it became too dark to turn back. I knew I could throw myself on your hospitality without fear of refusal.”
She leant over and touched his sleeve.
“I presume that you will not turn me out into the night, sir? A bed for the evening is all I crave.”
Rosanna gulped and dropped the books she was putting into neat piles.
Lady Verity stared round at her, taking in the small, slim figure in dark grey who was standing quietly in a corner, her hands clasped demurely in front of her apron, her eyes cast down to the floor, a picture of a model servant – or so Rosanna hoped. As long as the tendrils of hair she could feel escaping down her neck were not visible to the Society lady!
“Aha, Lord Melton, I am sure you would not wish to converse in front of your nurse. You – woman – leave us.”
Rosanna glanced up at the dark haired Earl. His face was impassive but she could see his hands clenching on the arms of the chair.
She knew instinctively that rudeness to servants was something he would never indulge in himself and it was only his politeness to a guest that had stopped him making a terse remark to Lady Verity.
“If you would be so kind, Nurse Robinson,” he said and Rosanna dropped a little curtsy and hurried out of the room, her head down, aware of Lady Verity’s sharp eyes following her as she left.
She hastened along the stone corridor back to her room, wondering what she should do now.
She could no longer carry on this deception in front of the staff, but how could she just announce who she was? What would Mr. Digby and Peter Simkins think when they knew?
She had not intended to make fools of these people and, of course, she might never need to see them again, but she was anxious not to hurt their feelings.
She had no clothes to wear, except those of the nurse and she could not see any way of bringing her possessions from Donnington Hall without alerting Sir Walter as to her whereabouts. And that was the last thing she wanted.
Rosanna sank down onto the little stool in front of her dressing table and stared at her reflection in the small, smeared mirror.
Impatiently, she pulled off the wretched cap and let her hair fall to her shoulders once more.
She thrust her hand into her apron pocket and pulled out the scrap of linen and lace that the Earl had returned to her. She shut her eyes and raised the handkerchief to her lips.
She could not believe that Lord Melton had kept this little token. It was such an impossible thing to have happened that she had difficulty in making her brain accept it. What could it mean?
She picked up her hair brush and slowly began the hundred strokes that her mother had insisted she performed each evening.
Well, of course his behaviour means nothing, she thought crossly. And it was stupid of her to read more into his action than he intended. He had been pleased that a stranger helped him when he was ill, but now he knew who that stranger was, the token would mean nothing to him.
And especially when Lady Verity had arrived back to claim her rightful place in his affections.
She was tall, stately and elegant, everything Rosanna knew she was not. There was no way that Lady Verity would be intimidated by a man such as Sir Walter.
Rosanna banged the silver hair brush against her scalp and winced. And that, she told herself angrily, was the reason her eyes were beginning to water and tears were brimming over her lashes. It had nothing to do with Lord Melton and his feelings for the other woman who obviously meant a lot to him.
‘I must make a plan,’ Rosanna decided firmly. ‘I ran away to give myself space in which to think, but the time is coming when I shall have to face Sir Walter and make a stand.
‘I shall fetch Edie and we will return to Donnington Hall tomorrow, as soon as it is light. I will be courteous to Sir Walter, but firm. I will make it very clear that I shall never agree to be his wife and if he refuses to leave I will – I will – call for the local Constabulary!’
With that, Rosanna slapped her hair brush down on the dressing table. The reflection in the mirror had changed from a sad, hesitant, timid looking girl to one whose chin was high, whose blue eyes were sparkling with resolve and determination.
She refused to think of all the problems that might lie ahead. Now she just wanted to go home to Donnington Hall, to leave the Castle and the Earl behind. She had no desire to watch him with his lady.
Suddenly the tears in her eyes brimmed over and ran down her cheeks unheeded as she realised with horror that she would rather face the dreadful Sir Walter than watch Lord Melton parade around this fine place with Lady Verity on his arm!
*
Very early the next morning, Lady Verity hurried down the great staircase, her head held high and her eyes blazing with anger.
How dare he! How dare Lord Melton throw away their relationship with just a few bleak words.
She pushed past a footman who jumped to open the main doors. He was astonished at the speed of her leaving. Usually guests waited for their carriage or horse to be called round from the stables and he knew that no such message had been sent.
“Out of my way, fool!” she snapped and did not stop her swift exit until she reached the gravel drive that circled the Castle inside the moat.
She could not remember when she had been so insulted! She had been delighted to see William looking so much better, but her comments about now being able to arrange their future to their mutual satisfaction had fallen on deaf ears.
He had cut her off in mid-sentence, shortly after the nurse had left the room, saying that she must forgive him, but his leg was painful and he needed to rest.
She had been shown to a bedroom by that supercilious butler, and spent a restless, uncomfortable night trying to decide what would be the best way of achieving her ambition.
This morning Lady Verity had been sure she could finally agree their engagement.
She had been delighted to find her host well enough to have ventured downstairs to the breakfast room, but before she could even drink her coffee, Lord Melton had been brutally blunt.
“Madam, I humbly apologise if I have by word or deed given you reason to hope for a linking of our names, but although I value your friendship and that of your brother, my heart is already given to anothe
r.”
Lady Verity had turned away to stop the anger on her face showing.
“Indeed, sir. And to whom should I extend my felicitations?”
There had been a long pause and then Lord Melton had murmured,
“Why to my angel, of course!”
Lady Verity swished violently with her riding crop at a clump of daisies that grew in abundance along the Castle wall. She wished it was this other woman she was hitting!
‘His angel, indeed! Who can possibly have sneaked in to steal his affections from me? It must be some local girl, living nearby. I know that no one from London would dare interfere with my plans. Oh, if I could only have five minutes alone with this mealy-mouthed miss, I would show her that I am not a person to be trifled with!’
Her swift steps had brought her round the side of the Castle into the stable yard. Yesterday she had left her horse in the care of the groom who rode with her.
Lady Verity had hoped that her obvious love of riding would add to her attraction for Lord Melton.
She had chosen her most becoming riding habit, but could have been wearing sackcloth for all the notice he had taken of her!
“My Lady?”
Her groom came running out of the stables, brushing crumbs off his jacket. He had been in the middle of a meal, not dreaming that Lady Verity would be leaving the Castle so early in the morning.
“Saddle my horse – I am leaving at once!”
“Yes, my Lady. Certainly, my Lady. Will you wait here or – ?”
“Don’t chatter, man. Just saddle up that nag my uncle lent me. Quickly!”
She stood, fuming, as he returned to the stables.
“Your riding habit is a lovely colour! Like emeralds.”
Lady Verity turned and found a very small child staring up at her. Her hands and face were liberally smeared with grime from where she had been making mud pies in the puddles left from the dawn wash-down of the stable yard.
Lady Verity hastily pulled her dark green riding skirt away from the out-stretched grubby hand.
“Go away, little girl,” she snarled.
“My name’s Millie Barker,” the child said importantly, blithely ignoring the adult’s obvious annoyance.
Love Rescues Rosanna Page 10
