by June Francis
‘Should we send for your physician?’ she asked.
Lady Elizabeth moved her head slightly from side to side and closed her eyes. ‘Send for the priest,’ she whispered.
Rosamund’s heart sank. She did not want to believe that she was about to lose her godmother when she had scarcely had a chance to get to know her. She glanced at the Baron’s stern face, but before she could even ask, he was on his way.
To her relief he was not gone long.
‘It is done,’ he said, wondering if it was his imagination that her ladyship’s breathing seemed a little easier now. He hated to see anyone suffer in such a way and walked over to the window and gazed out. He remained there, thinking about what Lady Elizabeth had said about Rosamund’s child. He did not want to believe that she was not the innocent he considered her to be. She had insisted there was no child. But if that was true, then why did her godmother believe there could be? Was he missing a trick here?
He glanced towards the bed and caught Rosamund staring at him. What was she asking of him? He turned away and gazed out of the window, wondering with part of his mind if the lawyer would arrive at the same time as the priest. If Lady Elizabeth’s condition worsened, then what was Alex to do? She had obviously decided that he was the husband she wanted for her goddaughter. If she was dying, would she expect a wedding instead of a betrothal? This had never been part of his plan when he had agreed to do what his natural father had asked.
Hannah reappeared, carrying a golden goblet on a salver. Alex turned and watched the maid and Rosamund help Lady Elizabeth to drink the potion. Would it ease her suffering and enable her to live a while longer? He could only pray it would be so. They eased Lady Elizabeth back against the pillows and watched her close her eyes.
Rosamund sat back in the chair and took her godmother’s hand in hers once more. She was aware that her godmother’s breathing was still audible, making almost a whistling sound. But hopefully the potion and rest would improve her condition. She glanced over at Alex; as if sensing her eyes were on him, he turned. But he did not have a smile for her. Could the kisses they had shared mean so little to him? Did he believe in this mythical child and that she had been impregnated by someone else? She watched him go over to the maid and speak to her, then the maid left the room.
Alex resumed his watch at the window, but his body was turned slightly towards Rosamund. He was remembering how much he desired her and how he had compromised her. She was Harry’s sister! Were these three things reason enough for him to suggest making an old lady die happy and for him to possibly father another man’s child? Maybe her stepbrother’s?
But before he could make a decision, a slurred voice from the bed said, ‘I was thinking, if you are both willing you could marry, instead of getting betrothed. The priest would say the words over you for the bequest of a tidy sum for his church.’
Her words caused Rosamund’s heart to begin to thud in her breast. She did not want the Baron to be forced into marrying her. ‘You are not going to die, Godmother,’ she said, a quiver in her voice.
‘You cannot guarantee that, my dear,’ gasped Lady Elizabeth. ‘You are not the Almighty. Is it that you would refuse a dying woman and a fortune?’
‘I do not want your money,’ said Rosamund quietly. ‘But I would make you happy.’
Lady Elizabeth said, ‘Good. What do you say, Baron? Or is it that you were only toying with my goddaughter’s affections?’
‘No!’ cried Rosamund.
Alex darted a glance at her and for a moment their eyes met and he knew what his answer was going to be. ‘I will ignore that slur on my honour, Lady Elizabeth, and I will take your goddaughter as my wife.’ He might not love or trust her completely, but he did believe that if there was a child then Fustian had raped her. He felt sick at the thought.
‘No slur was intended, Baron,’ gasped Lady Elizabeth. ‘As soon as Master Jamieson and Father Thomas arrive, they are to be brought here.’
‘It will be done, Lady Elizabeth.’ Alex’s voice was calm despite his racing heart. It was possible that tonight he and Rosamund would be husband and wife. He gave his attention to the view from the window once more.
Chapter Nine
Alex did not have long to wait before noticing a soberly dressed man of middle years and a younger man Alex presumed was his clerk approaching. He informed her ladyship and she asked him to go and greet them and explain the situation.
No sooner had he gone than Rosamund became aware that her godmother seemed to have gone off into a doze. She felt nervous, hoping this was not the prelude to a deeper sleep. The room was quiet, except for the sound of the sick woman’s laboured breathing. Rosamund wished that she and her godmother could have met years ago when she was younger and in good health. It seemed an age before Hannah entered the bedchamber with a flagon of wine and a branch of lighted candles. She placed the candelabra on a table close to the bedside before pouring some wine for Rosamund.
Alex entered the bedchamber a few moments later with the lawyer and his clerk. They were followed almost immediately by the priest. From the lawyer’s demeanour, it was obvious to Rosamund that Alex had explained all that was needful. As for the priest, he approached the side of the bed opposite to the lawyer. Instantly, Rosamund rose and gave up her seat to him. She moved over to the window with her goblet of wine, aware that Alex stayed by the bed. Obviously, he intended not missing a word said between her godmother, the lawyer and the priest.
Indeed, that was Alex’s intention and he could not help thinking that he and his father had not reckoned on this happening when they had made their plans that had involved Lady Elizabeth. Still, he was determined to ensure that her wishes were carried out where Rosamund was concerned.
He looked around for her and saw that she had gone over to the window and was gazing outside. Her face looked drawn and sad and he wanted to crush Fustian beneath his heel. He prayed that her godmother would live long enough to enable them to plight their troth.
Two hours later, Alex knew that he need not have doubted her ladyship’s staying power. As soon as he and Rosamund had spoken the words that would bind them together until death, her ladyship had beckoned Hannah over and mouthed that she must serve wine to all those present. Then she reached out a hand to the newly married couple and congratulated them. ‘I hope you will have many happy years ahead of you,’ she whispered.
Tears trickled down Rosamund’s cheeks as she thanked her godmother. It was difficult to believe that she and the Baron were wed. She found herself twisting her godmother’s silver-and-amber ring around her finger in an agitated manner. Tonight would be her wedding night. But even as the thought made her feel apprehensive and excited at the same time, she realised that it was unlikely that she and her new husband would have the opportunity to share a bed that night. How could they both leave her godmother when she lay dying?
The lawyer drank his wine and said he would send his clerk with the papers in the morning for her ladyship. The priest said he would come back later as he had a mass to conduct. Alex saw them out and then returned to the bedchamber where Rosamund had resumed her place at her godmother’s side. She rose when he entered the room. ‘What do you wish me to do, husband?’ she asked, looking docile.
He was suspicious of such meekness. ‘What I wish and what I must do are in conflict with each other,’ he said, frowning. ‘We must take turns to sit with her during the night.’
‘Shall I take the first watch?’ asked Rosamund.
‘Aye. I will partake of supper and then I will come and relieve you, so you can dine.’
‘I am not hungry,’ said Rosamund.
His frown deepened. ‘You must eat to keep up your strength. It will not do for you to be ill,’ he rasped.
‘Then I will eat,’ she said, wondering about the depth of his concern.
‘Good,’ he said, and left the bedchamber.
Rosamund returned to her post, but this time she knelt at the bedside and prayed not only for her
godmother, but her new husband and herself, as well as Harry. Then she sat back on the chair and, as Lady Elizabeth appeared to be sleeping, Rosamund allowed her mind to wander. She did not need a title, especially a foreign one. How did a Swedish baroness behave? How should she address her new husband, by his title or—by the name he had spoken in the brief service? Alexander. Was that his real name? She wondered if they were legally married if he had not used his proper one. Had the Baron considered such a possibility so he could have the marriage annulled?
Suddenly she was remembering her dream last night. How long ago it seemed now and yet she could recall it vividly. At least it had not been a premonition. The Baron had not turned into her stepbrother during the wedding ceremony. She experienced a cold feeling in her belly simply by thinking of Edward.
She stood up and went over to the window and saw that it was almost pitch-black outside. On such a night might murder be done. She shivered. What was she doing thinking such thoughts? She drew the curtains and returned to her godmother’s bedside.
Shortly after the Baron entered the bedchamber and asked if there was any change in Lady Elizabeth’s condition. Rosamund shook her head. ‘My fear is that this sleep might be one from which she will not wake,’ she whispered. ‘But she is in God’s hands and we must trust that He will do what is best for her.’
‘If she recovers this time, it would make sense if she stopped painting her face,’ said Alex.
‘Perhaps you should suggest it to her, husband,’ said Rosamund, lifting limpid eyes to him.
He stared at her fixedly. ‘You are her goddaughter. It is probably more fitting if the suggestion came from you.’
‘I doubt she will listen to me as she is accustomed to having her own way. She was so looking forward to attending the celebrations at Richmond and so was I,’ said Rosamund softly. ‘I suppose it will be out of the question going there now.’ She stood up. ‘You will wake me if I fall asleep so I can keep my watch, won’t you?’
He inclined his head. ‘Of course! But go now and eat and rest.’
Rosamund nodded. She kissed her godmother’s cheek and reluctantly went to eat her lonely supper.
Alex took her place at the side of the bed. He had no intention of waking his wife if she were to fall asleep. His wife! It felt odd saying those two little words, but they did mean that he now had the right to protect her. But what about the child her godmother insisted that she was carrying? The one Rosamund denied having conceived? He was in a quandary because he could be completely wrong about Fustian having raped her. But if he had done so, then most likely she would find the sexual act repulsive. It made sense not to consummate the match just yet until her condition was known. What if she was not to be trusted and encouraged her stepbrother and all that she had told him was false? He was weary and his head was in a muddle. He settled himself in the chair for what would surely be a long night.
Rosamund was tempted to disobey her husband and return to her godmother’s bedchamber after finishing her supper. She did not wish to go to a lonely, cold bed where no doubt her thoughts would guarantee she would be unable to sleep. He had not wanted to marry her and perhaps he thought that she had deliberately led her godmother astray in order to trap him. The notion made her feel angry, but thankfully, after a second goblet of wine, she could scarcely keep her eyes open. She made her way to her bedchamber and got into bed and instantly fell asleep.
Alex started awake. The hard lines of his body were tense—he had been dreaming of Rosamund. Despite the mask she wore, he was convinced it was his wife. Yet every time he drew closer to her, she retreated in a way that reminded him of the movements of the dance. Did this mean he was going to lose her? He rubbed his eyes and looked towards the bed. The candles in the candelabra had guttered out and dawn was not far off. He could see the outline of the lady in the bed and, thank God, she was still breathing. He stood up and stretched, wondering what had woken him. Perhaps a noise outside. Had the priest returned and not managed to rouse the house in order to gain entry?
He went over to the window and drew back the curtains and rubbed at the frost on the glass with his sleeve and peered out. He saw a slight, dark-haired figure hurrying in the direction of the stables. Immediately he thought the worst—Rosamund regretted the vows she had made last night and was running away. He had to rouse Hannah so she could sit with Lady Elizabeth whilst he went after his wife.
As he strode along the passage he could smell baking bread. When he reached the hall there was a serving wench sweeping the floor. He called to her and she came scurrying over to him and asked how was her ladyship.
‘She is asleep, but I’ve had to leave her for the moment. Will you fetch Hannah to sit with her?’ he asked.
‘Aye, Baron!’
Alex left her and hurried to the stables where, to his relief, he discovered that his horse was still in its stall. He was returning to the house when he heard someone hail him. He turned and saw Rosamund.
‘You did not send Hannah to wake me as you promised and I know the reason why.’ She smiled faintly. ‘You dozed off, so I let you sleep. Godmother’s breathing sounded so much better that when I heard shouting outside I decided to investigate.’
‘I saw you from the window and thought you were regretting last night and had decided to run away.’
She stiffened. ‘Where would I run to? I see you still do not trust me. I am not so ungrateful towards Godmother or frightened of you that I would run away,’ she said coldly and turned away.
‘Forgive me! I woke suddenly and obviously I was not thinking rationally.’ He reached out and touched her face. ‘You are cold. You must get inside without delay.’
‘And what of you?’ asked Rosamund, warmed by that gesture. ‘You must rest whilst I sit with Godmother.’
‘Hannah is with her. You mentioned hearing shouting. Did you find out from whence it came?’
‘No. I decided if anything untoward had happened, then the guards would have investigated.’
‘You went as far as the gates?’
She shook her head. ‘I did not want to be out too long.’
‘Then I will go and speak to them after I have seen you to the house.’
‘I can see myself indoors,’ she replied. ‘If you are concerned, go immediately.’
She turned away and hurried to her godmother’s bedchamber, hoping that she would be no worse than when she had left her. To her delight she found that Lady Elizabeth was awake and speaking to Hannah. Instantly, she broke off from what she was saying and greeted her goddaughter.
‘So there you are, my dear,’ she gasped. ‘I wondered where you and the Baron had gone.’
‘I heard shouting, so I went outside to investigate,’ said Rosamund. ‘I did not see anyone, but the Baron is making a further search.’ She smiled. ‘How are you feeling now, Godmother? You sound so much better than you did last even.’
‘I realise now that it was foolish of me to dance,’ said Lady Elizabeth ruefully. ‘If we are to go to Richmond, then I know I will have to be sensible.’
Rosamund was surprised. ‘You are still considering attending the celebrations?’
‘Of a surety. It could be the last time I have the opportunity to share in such an occasion.’ Her voice was mournful.
‘But won’t you find the ride exhausting?’ asked Rosamund with concern.
Her godmother shook her head and then had to straighten her wig. ‘No. For I will travel by barge. You and the Baron may wish to ride,’ she wheezed, resting against the pillows, ‘and you may do so, for I am certain you have much to talk about and would prefer to be alone.’
Rosamund did not deny it. ‘But who will take care of you?’ she asked anxiously.
‘My dear! I never travel anywhere without a whole host of servants. Hannah here will not leave my side.’ Lady Elizabeth leaned over and patted the woman’s arm.
‘If you are certain that is your wish. When must we depart?’
‘I must wait until my lawye
r arrives. I gave him firm instructions that he must have his clerk and copyist prepare the documents for me to sign this morning,’ said Lady Elizabeth.
Rosamund took her hand. ‘I have not expressed my gratitude for your generous gift of a dowry. I do appreciate your kindness very much indeed.’
Lady Elizabeth smiled. ‘I am glad you were sensible enough to fall in with my wishes by marrying the Baron. Now leave me alone for a while and send him to me as soon as he returns.’
Rosamund marvelled at her godmother’s stamina, courage and determination. She kissed her cheek and left the bedchamber. There was no sign of the Baron in the parlour or the hall and so Rosamund went outside, thinking to give him the news of her godmother’s decision, but he was nowhere in sight. She decided to put on her boots and a cloak and go as far as the gates.
On arriving at the gates Alex had found only one guard on duty. He was stamping his feet and blowing on his fingers and was a different man to either of those guarding the entrance yesterday.
The guard suddenly noticed him and said, ‘Who goes there?’
‘I am Baron Dalsland and I am a guest of Lady Elizabeth’s,’ said Alex.
‘Ahh! You’ll be the foreigner who came yesterday with her ladyship’s goddaughter.’ The guard’s eyes were alight with curiosity. ‘Rumour has it in the guardroom that you and the young lady were wed last night.’
Alex did not deny it.
‘And is Lady Elizabeth in better health this morning?’
‘I believe so.’
The guard grinned. ‘It’s not the first time she’s had her lawyer and the priest out and us thinkin’ she were on her death bed. Always manages to rally round so far.’
‘I am pleased to hear it.’ Alex asked the man whether anyone had come through the gates that morning or if he had seen anything suspicious during the night.
