by May Burnett
“She was, until tonight,” Marianne said unhappily. “It is too much to hope that this ridiculous scene she made will not leak out. Apart from the entire house party, there were at least four servants in the room. Besides, Chloe and Ariadne are not above gossiping.”
“What could she have hoped to gain from her absurd claim?” George said. “It could only have worked, had Rook supported her story. But even then it would have been a horribly messy scandal, with his engagement to the Princess just printed in the papers.”
“It is perfectly clear what Miss Prentice intended,” Charlotte said. “She hoped that in the face of an unwanted match, Rook would grasp at her announcement as the preferable alternative, and marry her in fact, once the Princess had left in dudgeon. Rather opportunistic of her, but we must suppose the poor girl was blinded by love. And the risk that it would not come off - as indeed it did not – was enormous. A foolish ploy, but then she’s very young.”
“Weren’t you tempted at all?” James asked Rook curiously. “She’s very pretty.”
Rook shook his head. “Not for a moment. A marriage where only one partner is in love is even worse than a loveless arranged match, where each of the partners knows what to expect.”
“Then you are reconciled to the match with Princess Gisela?” Marianne asked. “Poor Louisa. I am sorry I invited her now. I had not realised how immature the girl was.”
“It’s not just her,” Rook said, “I find debutantes of eighteen too young and silly in general, these days. Possibly Princess Gisela feels the same about me – the age difference is about the same. As for whether I’m reconciled, that is not really the point: I cannot in honour draw back, though I would dearly love to throw the betrothal contract back in my father’s face.”
“You feel you are honour-bound, though you were not consulted and did not give your consent?” James pursed his lips. “I suppose a refusal on your part would be awkward, to say the least.”
“I admit my first impulse was to give the Princess a disgust of me, and show her that if she insisted on the marriage, I meant to be master in my own home,” Rook confessed. “But all attempts at frank talking were stymied by that infernal Komtesse. She expurgated both my own remarks, and those of the Princess.”
“You could suddenly remember your French,” George suggested, “then we need no longer pretend to translate for you.”
“No,” Rook said immediately. “At least, not yet. And it was quite useful that the Komtesse was at hand, because she became angry at my attempts to scare off the Princess, and explained how the Princess was promised an English Royal bridegroom in the first place.” He quickly recapitulated the information she had provided. “So as you see, the Princess has been treated right shabbily by our government and Royal Family, and now fobbed off – as she must see it – with a man of inferior rank. I wonder if she still hankers after that Russian Grand Duke? In any case, it is impossible that I should add to the poor woman’s humiliations by jilting her. She must jilt me.”
“Good Gad,” George said. “But we have to remember the source of your information may be biased. I will write immediately to a couple of friends in the diplomatic service, to check whether this information is correct. Unfortunately it is just the kind of thing that one can believe of a bureaucratic institution. One man makes a promise, leaving it up to others to make good upon, who place little priority on it …. Yes, I can see how it might have happened.”
“I don’t see that it is your responsibility to expiate the shortcomings of our diplomats, Rook,” Minerva said. “Promises were made and forgotten, but not by you.”
“Besides, all this is at least partly the fault of Princess Gisela’s father,” Marianne asserted. “He should not have crossed the Czar while the marriage of his daughter to that Grand Duke was imminent. And he had to know how untrustworthy a promise by our Government was, and should have looked around for another groom himself, during all those years.”
“He clearly is not nearly as smart and sensible as you, Marianne,” Charlotte said. “It is no use apportioning blame at this late date. The main question is, can this match yet be prevented?”
“If what the Komtesse has told you is true, then a repudiation by Lord Molyneux would be even more awkward for the Government than I thought.” Beecham was using his solicitor’s voice, lighter than the sonorous tones he used when speaking in the House. “They must have been very confident of your compliance.”
“Hoping that Rook’s sense of family honour, and unwillingness to cause an international incident, would keep him in line,” James concluded. “It is a deuced effective trap, no matter how you look at it.”
“How large is the dowry the Princess is bringing to you?” Beecham asked with professional interest. “And how much was the dowry they promised the Russian Grand Duke in comparison?”
“According to my father’s letter, the dowry is still under negotiation,” Rook explained. “I have demanded to be included in these negotiations. With any luck the Prince of Obernberg will decide that my demands are unreasonable and look elsewhere instead.”
“Would it not have made more sense to finish these negotiations before publishing the betrothal in the papers?” Charlotte asked.
“Had I got wind of them, the betrothal would not have happened at all,” Rook reminded her. “I suspect that they sent the notice as soon as an agreement in principle had been reached, to tie my hands.”
“So are you really willing to go through with it?” Charlotte asked incredulously.
“I may not have another choice,” Rook said, considering. “It is not as though I was in love with anyone else. The Princess is not remotely who I would have chosen as my bride if left to my own devices; and remember that I have only known her for one day. I would prefer her to think better of the engagement, but I cannot be the one to draw back, for the all the reasons we have discussed.”
“That Komtesse may be the key,” James said. “I sat next to her at dinner tonight, and could not help thinking how much more promising a match it would be if she were the Princess, rather than just the companion.”
“Fräulein von Rosenfels?” Rook grimaced. “No luck there either. She detests me, and let me know it in no uncertain terms. It felt like being attacked by a tigress. She is pretty and spirited and clever, but not susceptible to me.”
“You were just complaining how insipid and silly the adoring debutantes seemed to you,” Marianne pointed out.
“Even if Rook admired her, it would be pointless,” George said impatiently. “The Princess told me that the Komtesse is to be married shortly, to a count who is an officer in the Obernberg Guard. Let’s deal with one entanglement at a time, please.”
“It cannot have been easy for the Princess, being single and chaste all through her twenties and a good part of her thirties,” Minerva said.
“We cannot know that she was,” Charlotte said cynically.
“As long as the family considered that she was destined for some English royal, she probably was guarded very carefully,” Rook said. “The last five years or so, who knows. But since I’m hardly a virgin myself, it is immaterial.”
George threw him an incredulous look. “I still could add a question to my enquiries, to see if there has been any past scandal that you could use to wriggle out of the betrothal.”
“Please don’t. If she was discreet, I don’t care. And if there was anything notorious, your correspondents will mention it anyway.”
“You are taking it very coolly, I must say,” James said. “So what do you want us to do?”
“Nothing for the moment,” Rook decided, “except talk to the Komtesse to find out more about the Princess’s background and circumstances. Not scandals, I mean, but what is important to her. My own conclusion is that Princess Gisela’s sense of duty and obedience to her father, the Prince, is the greatest obstacle to her dissolving a betrothal she doesn’t truly want any more than I do. If we could identify some other duty that conflicted with it, she m
ight be brought to reconsider. Alternatively, the Prince could be prevailed upon to change his orders, though his being in Southern German lands, and we here, makes that option more difficult. Either way it’s a pretty long shot, I fear.”
“Not religion,” Amberley said. “She’s Protestant, and so are you. If she was to marry a Russian, he would probably have been Russian Orthodox, and evidently she did not regard that as an obstacle.”
“No, Princess Gisela does not strike me as particularly devout,” Marianne agreed. “Just as well. Imagine if she insisted on the whole household attending early morning mass with her every day.”
“I don’t think every whim of hers should be catered to all the time,” Rook said. “She appears to assume that she’ll be treated just as she is now, throughout her life as my wife. The sooner that illusion is broken, the more realistically she will be able to judge her options. If I have to marry her, I am not going to cater to her notions of protocol at home.”
“Good luck,” James said. They all looked at Rook with mingled scepticism and commiseration.
How had it come to that, from one day to the other? Rook still pondered that conundrum before he fell into an uneasy sleep a scant hour later.
Chapter 13
Rook had not even dressed yet, and was at his ablutions, when James rudely barged into his room early the next morning.
“Rook! At least you are here – have you seen anything of Miss Prentice?”
“No.” Rook splashed cold water on his face. He had a feeling he’d best be fully awake for whatever came next. “What has happened?”
“She is gone – her room unslept in, her parents distraught. They thought she might have fled with you, more a hope than anything else. I promised to check.”
“I’ll come as soon as I’m dressed,” Rook called, as James left as quickly as he had come.
Drat. What new kind of trouble had the silly chit got herself into? And to what extent was it his fault? But she had to be found first, all other considerations were unimportant.
By the time he had hastily dressed, all the family and most of the guests were in the Golden Salon, discussing this new excitement over breakfast. Not seeing the Prentice girl’s parents, Rook sought them out in their rooms, to offer his sympathies and help in recovering the girl.
“I am sorry she placed you in such an awkward position last night,” Mrs. Prentice said. “We were aware that she harbours a passion for you, Lord Molyneux, but had no idea it was this strong and unbridled.”
“Please don’t say another word,” he begged. “Miss Prentice is a lovely lady, but too young for me. I hope she may yet find love elsewhere, and put myself at your service in searching for her. Isn’t there any clue? Has she taken a horse from the stables?”
“No, and she does not much care for riding,” Mr. Prentice said. “No carriage, coach, or horse is missing. We must suppose that she left on foot.”
“On foot, and all alone?” Rook was horrified. “Anything could happen. I will ride out and search right now.”
“Lord Amberley has sent out all the grooms already,” Mrs Prentice assured him. “If they do not find her close by, he will organise a second wave of searchers in a wider radius. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for your assistance, and so will we.” Despite her words, Rook was conscious of some awkwardness, almost animosity, hovering between them, natural enough in the circumstances.
“Oh Ma’am, I found a message under Miss Louisa’s pillow,” a young female dressed in servant’s garb cried from the door, just as he was about to take his leave.
“From Louisa? Where is it?” Mrs. Prentice asked, reaching for the scrap of paper the girl carried in her hand. She threw an eye on it, and blanched.
“You might as well hear it, my lord,” she said to Rook bitterly. “My life is ruined - I cannot live without love. Farewell.” That’s all.
“Let me see,” Mr Prentice cried, snatching at the paper. Rook bowed and escaped, back to the Green Salon.
Farewell? It was deuced ambiguous. Surely the girl would not – could not – but the very young were dangerously emotional and sometimes unstable.
For once uninterested in breakfast, he gave orders to have Charger saddled and ready, and then drew Lord Amberley and James aside, to apprise them of Louisa’s cryptic message.
“She never struck me as that foolish,” George said. “But who truly knows what goes on in a head addled by love?”
“That’s not love, that’s obsession,” James objected. “She had no thought how her folly would harm Rook or her family.”
“Does she know her way around the area?” Rook was not interested in such speculation, or assigning blame. He wanted to do something practical. “How long would it take to walk from here to the closest lake or river?”
“You don’t really think -?” James asked. “Let me check with Marianne and Minerva.” He was back in couple of minutes. “Minerva recently took her along on an excursion to see her old governess, near Lake Windermere. Miss Prentice said the waters called to her, but Minerva didn’t think anything of it at the time. The good news is that they went in the barouche, and the place would take at least four hours to reach on foot. Four hours in which she would hopefully think better of whatever desperate plan she was hatching.”
“I’ll be off right away,” Rook said, pausing only to get an exact description of the place where they had stopped to admire the lake from Lady Minerva.
When he found the foolish girl, he’d carry her back to her parents and hopefully never have to see her again. To scare the poor old couple like that, cause a vulgar commotion, and raise the worst kinds of fear! Rook was also facing a future without love, but it had not crossed his mind even for an instant to run away, or put a period to his existence. That was cowardly and stupid. While there was life there was hope, and a better solution could always be found, with persistence and ingenuity. So he would explain to Miss Prentice, in no uncertain terms, when he found her.
His hopes of success were quickly dashed, for along the way Minerva and Miss Prentice had passed so shortly before, he found no trace of her. He stopped several people to enquire after a pretty young lady with brown eyes, wandering the countryside all alone, but nobody had seen her. Several people mentioned they had already been asked the same by the Amberley grooms. Of course the girl would have passed at night when most country people were fast asleep – had Louisa had a lantern of some kind? The moon was waxing but rather too dim to guide a traveller’s steps over the uneven tracks of the path. A lantern in the hand of a young girl might attract unwanted and dangerous attention. What if she had been attacked, robbed, murdered? It did not bear thinking of.
Despite the repeated stops it did not take Charger very long to reach the lake, and Rook approached its shore with grim foreboding.
Two men were fishing with rods, a peaceful scene at odds with his urgency.
“Have you seen a young lady here this morning?”
The older fisherman squinted up at him from his low folding stool.
“No, Sir, no girls of any kind. They only scare off the fish - as you are doing as well.” His voice was testy.
“This is more important than your fish, man.” Charger felt Rook’s impatience and stamped the ground with his massive hoof. “How long have you been here today?”
“Since before five,” the younger fisherman said. “They bite best in the early morning. It’s getting time to leave anyway. I have enough.”
“Easy for you to say,” the older man grumbled.
A couple of gulls came diving down, irritating Charger. Rook had to keep a firm hold on the bridle. The fishermen’s evidence gave him hope. Surely it would not have been possible for Miss Prentice to find the lake in the dark, before five of the morning, if she walked? But all depended on when she had set out. She had not been there for dinner the previous night. Maybe she had already been wandering about in the dark while he and the Ellsworthy clan had been discussing his ill-fated engagement last night, an e
ngagement that suddenly seemed the least of his worries.
Rook was still sure he had been right not to go along with the girl’s lie that they were secretly married. Apart from being all too easy to refute, he did not want to be tied to a girl capable of upsetting everyone in such fashion. She needed someone who loved her with patience and understanding; someone very different from him. As for what he needed - even the Princess was better than an emotional young girl like Miss Prentice. Though it was too bad the Princess was not more like the Komtesse. He could not help admiring that young woman’s passion, and her utter lack of deference – even though he was the betrothed of her temporary mistress.
Rook cantered along the path close to the beach, keeping an eye out for a young girl – alive, pray God – or additional witnesses. He found several of the latter, mostly other fishermen, none of whom had seen a stray young lady. Everyone promised to send word to Amberley, if there was any news of the girl.
Before concluding his mission he paid a short call on the governess, who was watering her dahlias in the small garden of her cottage. She remembered him from visits to Amberley in his boyhood, and willingly promised to keep an ear out for any information regarding the missing girl. “The young can be very headstrong and misguided,” she said, “but in most cases, they do have a healthy sense of self-preservation. When I met Miss Prentice the other day, with Lady Minerva, she did not strike me as so very unbalanced or unhappy as you imply. I would not worry too much, she may yet turn up.”
“She’ll be ruined, even if she does,” Rook said gloomily. “I am not aware of having encouraged her in any way on this path, but I cannot help wondering if there is something I could have done to prevent it.”
“She’s pretty, and if she has a large enough dowry, something can always be arranged,” the old woman said pragmatically. “First you have to find her, of course.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Rook said. “I’d better be off to continue searching.”
“Give my regards to Lady Minerva, Mr James and Lord Amberley when you get back. And my best wishes for a happy solution to this problem.”
