Snowbound With the Notorious Rake

by Sarah Mallory

  Rose summoned up all her will-power to give a light-hearted laugh.

  ‘Heavens, Mama, what a nonsensical notion!’

  ‘No, it is not. You are young and pretty—’

  ‘I am a widow and about to marry another man. Believe me, Mama, Sir Lawrence knows he would be wasting his time to set out lures to catch me!’

  ‘Would he, though?’ Rose found herself blushing at the knowing look in her mother’s eye. ‘The fact that you allowed the kettle to boil quite dry when I left you alone with him tells me you are not as immune to Sir Lawrence as you would have me believe.’

  ‘We were discussing the pony, Mama, nothing more. And perhaps I should take you to task for leaving us alone in that shameful manner!’

  ‘Well, I think Sir Lawrence is quite charming,’ replied her mother, unabashed. ‘If I was twenty years younger, I know I would enjoy being alone with him!’

  ‘Mama! You are quite…quite outrageous. The more so when you know I am betrothed to Magnus, and very happily so,’ she added defiantly.

  ‘Then a few moments’ tête à tête with Sir Lawrence Daunton should not have discomposed you.’

  ‘It did not do so!’ Rose felt the blood heating her cheeks and hurried on. ‘Besides, I have already told him that he must deal with Evans—I will not have him use the animal as an excuse to call upon me. It…it is a perfectly sensible arrangement, to our mutual benefit. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.’

  Mrs Molland looked sceptical.

  ‘Well, whatever Magnus will say about it I don’t know.’

  Rose had wondered that herself, but when Magnus called at the cottage a few days later he said jovially, ‘I have just bumped into Sam, who tells me he has a new pony. This is very sudden—you did not tell me you were going to buy him one?’

  Rose said airily, ‘No, it—it was rather sudden. I—er—had the opportunity to obtain the perfect mount for Sam.’

  ‘Well, you know what you are about, my dear, but I would have thought keeping another animal would be too much of an expense for you.’

  ‘Having two horses in livery already, we were able to negotiate a very good rate for a third,’ put in Mrs Molland, with perfect truth.

  She neatly turned the subject and exchanged a look with Rose that confirmed them as co-conspirators. There was a tacit understanding that Magnus need not be told.

  Sam was delighted with his new pony and spent every spare moment at the stables. A period of clement weather enabled him to be out of doors every day and by the end of the first week the groom reported that Sam was making good progress, and showing an aptitude for riding. When Rose went to watch a lesson for herself, the happiness shining in her young son’s face made her heart swell and she felt a wave of gratitude towards Lawrence.

  She had seen nothing of him since his visit to Bluebell Cottage—it was as they had agreed: the loan of the pony was not to make any difference to their acquaintance. It was certainly much better for her peace of mind, yet she found herself wondering if he was still at Knightscote. Would he inform her if he went away? Her mind went round and round the question, but came up with no satisfactory answer; in the end she determined to put all thoughts of the dangerous rake out of her mind and concentrate upon her own life, and the forthcoming dinner at Emsleigh House.

  It was a long-standing engagement; Mrs Molland had received the invitation from Althea Emsleigh several weeks ago and had told her daughter she was not at all deceived by its honeyed tones.

  ‘The invitation really comes from Magnus. Althea considers us very poor company. You, a schoolteacher, and me, an ageing widow!’

  ‘But she must be charming to us for her brother’s sake.’

  ‘And you should be charming to her,’ retorted Mrs Molland. ‘She will be your sister-in-law soon and you will have to share a house with her.’

  ‘Heavens, yes,’ replied Rose, much struck. ‘She will not enjoy having to make way for me as mistress of Emsleigh.’ A dimple appeared. She said mischievously, ‘I wonder how quickly we can find her a husband?’

  Magnus sent his carriage to Bluebell Cottage on the day of the dinner and the two ladies waved goodbye to Sam as they set off in style. That morning they had seen the first snowfall of the winter. It was very light, but it dusted the tops of the walls and the thatched roofs of the village and covered the surrounding hills with a blanket of white that glistened in the wintry sunset. They reached Emsleigh House just as the short winter’s day was fading into night and thankfully hurried indoors.

  They paused in the hall to divest themselves of their wraps. From her previous visits to the house, Rose knew that the drawing room lay at the top of the wide flight of stairs that swept upwards in front of them. She was surprised, therefore, to hear voices coming from Magnus’s study, which was situated off the entrance hall. As she handed her cloak to the waiting footman the study door opened and a portly gentleman in a brown suit and bag-wig stepped out.

  ‘I am very sorry to hear that your insurers have not yet paid up, Emsleigh,’ he said, looking back into the room, ‘but I have to tell you that unless I get my money soon I shall be forced to take action.’

  The impassive butler was already shepherding Rose and her mother across the hall. Althea appeared at the top of the stairs to greet them, resplendent in blue shot silk decorated with pink ribbons.

  Rose glanced back over her shoulder as she heard the front door bang.

  ‘Who was that man?’ asked Rose

  ‘Oh, him.’ Althea pouted and shook her head. ‘Pray take no heed. He is merely one of Magnus’s creditors. He rode all the way here from Minehead to dun us! Horrid little man. I do not think we should deal with him in future. Is that not so, Brother?’

  Magnus had left the study and now ran lightly up the stairs to join them.

  ‘Good evening, Mrs Molland, Rose. I am sorry you had to witness that. A little untimely business.’ He ushered them into the drawing room and closed the doors. ‘But now we may be easy. You know everyone, I think?’

  Rose regarded the assembled company. There were no surprises: the local magistrate, Sir Jonas Pullen, and his wife; the local vicar, Mr John Wilkins, and four other couples from Minehead thought worthy to dine at Emsleigh House.

  ‘You will note, Mrs Westerhill, that we are at present an odd number.’ Althea took Rose’s arm and led her across to a sofa. ‘But we are acquainted enough now for you to know I would never arrange anything so awkwardly! We have another gentleman coming to make up the numbers. We shall have eight couples sitting down to dinner. What do you say to that?’

  ‘I wonder that you should put yourself to so much trouble when you have your Winter Ball in less than two weeks. I applaud your energy, Miss Emsleigh.’

  Althea simpered and waved a hand.

  ‘Oh, it is nothing. I have been my brother’s hostess for so long now it is second nature to me to organise these things. But we digress. I was asking if you could guess who I had found to make up the numbers?’

  Rose spread her hands.

  ‘I have no idea, Miss Emsleigh… Mr Truelove, perhaps?’

  ‘Truelove, the attorney?’ Althea threw back her head and gave a little trill of laughter. ‘Dear me, no. No one so provincial. It—but I do not need to tell you, because I think this is he!’

  Rose’s spirits fluttered erratically. Althea’s words had aroused her suspicions and she was not surprised when she heard the butler’s sonorous announcement.

  ‘Sir Lawrence Daunton!’

  Rose watched Althea fly across the room to greet him. Was it her imagination or did all the ladies in the room sit up a little straighter when he came in? Certainly he looked very elegant, his simply cut black coat moulded to his frame and his dark hair brushed back from his handsome face. Althea was guiding him around the room, ensuring he knew everyone, but keeping a proprietary hand on his arm. Rose knew they would have to speak and she drew herself up. She must not blush, or show any signs that they were other than the merest acquaintances.
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  I can do this, she told herself as Althea and Lawrence approached. We mean nothing to each other.

  She schooled her features into a cool, distant smile.

  ‘Mrs Westerhill.’

  She tried not to be disappointed that he did not reach out for her hand and gave her only a slight nod of recognition, or to feel bereft when he turned away immediately. The greeting he gave Mrs Molland was much warmer. Quickly Rose moved across the room to join Magnus. There would be no sighs, no longing looks. She was no fainting schoolroom miss, but a grown woman. Not by the flicker of an eyelid would she betray how much Lawrence’s presence affected her.

  ‘Ah, Rose.’ Magnus held out his hand to her. ‘Mr Wilkins and I were agreeing that you are in high bloom tonight, my dear.’

  ‘Why, thank you, sirs. And you, Mr Wilkins—how do you go on? You were suffering from a slight cough last Sunday.’

  ‘I was. I hope it did not detract too much from my sermon. But it is quite cleared up now, ma’am, thank you.’

  Rose smiled as she listened to him conversing with Magnus. She liked the Reverend John Wilkins. He was a mild-mannered man who worked hard for his parishioners and, despite a slightly distracted air, he managed the funds for the village school very efficiently.

  ‘…and that is something I wanted to tell you, Mrs Westerhill.’ He turned his kindly gaze back to Rose. ‘I think I have found someone to replace you at the school.’

  ‘So soon?’ Rose was startled.

  ‘I asked Mr Wilkins if he knew of anyone who could take over from you, my dear,’ Magnus explained. ‘There will be plenty to do before the wedding. You will not have time to be schoolmistress as well.’

  ‘It is but a few mornings a week—’

  ‘Mornings that you might be spending with me,’ declared Magnus, squeezing her fingers. ‘You must see why I am eager for your replacement to arrive.’

  ‘The lady in question is a distant relative of mine, fallen upon hard times and in need of a position.’ Mr Wilkins coughed, his eyes shifting to Magnus and back again. ‘When Mr Emsleigh mentioned the matter to me…’

  ‘Of course I do not expect you to give up your post immediately,’ said Magnus. ‘I thought she might work with you for a little while, learn how you do things.’

  Rose suspected he was trying to smooth her obviously ruffled feathers. She bit back a sharp retort and instead asked Mr Wilkins when his relative would be arriving.

  ‘I expect her here any day now,’ replied the vicar, patently relieved at her mild response.

  ‘Then you must bring her to the schoolroom as soon as she is settled in. I look forward to meeting her.’ She allowed Magnus to lead her away, saying quietly, as soon they were out of earshot, ‘Really, Magnus, I do think you could have discussed this with me.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, my dear, it quite slipped my mind.’

  ‘Just as it slipped your mind to tell me you had been to Hades Cove.’ It gave her some satisfaction to note his startled look. ‘Mrs Ansell told me she had seen you riding there on Wednesday—you know full well the track down to the cove winds around the hill overlooking Mersecombe. You cannot expect to use it without someone seeing you.’

  ‘Of course not. I had business in Lynton and decided to look at the mine on my way home. Surely you do not object.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘I hope you do not plan to charge me with trespass.’

  ‘Of course not, Magnus, but I would like to be kept informed of matters that concern me.’

  He raised her hand to his lips.

  ‘Neither the school nor the mine will be your concern for much longer, my dear. When you are my wife all these little problems will be lifted from your shoulders. Now, shall we lead the way into dinner?’

  The meal was long and protracted. Lawrence was seated at the far end of the table, next to Althea. Mrs Molland was also placed near him and both ladies seemed to be enjoying his company far too much. Rose had been given the place of honour next to Magnus, but although she conversed happily with those around her, she found herself wondering what Lawrence was saying to keep both ladies so well entertained. Her eyes strayed far too often to the far end of the table and it was an effort to attend to her neighbours. She could acquit Althea of malice—after all, she knew nothing of their previous acquaintance—but it was still painful for Rose to have to sit and watch her flirting with Lawrence.

  ‘What an exciting few months lie ahead of us,’ declared Lady Pullen. ‘We have your ball here to look forward to, Mr Emsleigh, and then, in the spring, there will be the wedding.’ She turned her gracious smile upon Rose. ‘You must be looking forward to that, my dear. You can become a lady again.’

  ‘I enjoy my work at the school,’ replied Rose. ‘I shall be sorry to give it up.’

  ‘You will be far too busy to miss it,’ Magnus assured her.

  ‘Will I? What do you envisage me doing, Magnus?’ Rose turned her direct gaze upon him, smiling to soften the challenge in her words.

  ‘You will adorn my house and accompany me when I am obliged to make social calls.’

  Rose wrinkled her nose.

  ‘Really, Magnus, I think sometimes you want merely a pretty ornament to hang upon your arm.’

  He reached across and pinched her cheek.

  ‘A pretty, witty ornament, my dear!’ Those around them laughed, but Rose found nothing to amuse her in the idea.

  ‘I am sure, as my wife, there will be plenty of charitable work to amuse you,’ offered Magnus.

  ‘Talking of charity,’ put in Mr Wilkins, ‘I was in Minehead yesterday and bumped into a sailor there, from Bristol. He was one of the crew from the Sealark. He tells me he is still waiting for his money.’

  Magnus frowned. He said shortly, ‘He will get that as soon as the insurers send me payment for my losses.’

  ‘They haven’t paid out yet?’ Sir Jonas leaned forwards, his voice carrying the length of the table. ‘I thought it was as good as settled. They had the affidavit from every crew member months ago, attesting to it being an accident. What are they waiting for?’

  ‘London investors,’ declared his neighbour. ‘You would have been better advised to use the insurers in Exeter, as I do.’

  ‘Easy to say so now, Norris,’ Magnus responded.

  He tapped his glass and the butler rushed to refill it.

  ‘But why do they delay?’ asked Rose, frowning slightly. ‘Surely there can be no question that it was an accident.’

  ‘None at all, my love,’ said Magnus. ‘Pray, put it out of your mind. There is nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘Of course there is!’ declared Mr Norris, who had imbibed rather freely and was now in a boisterous mood. ‘Mrs Westerhill was expecting to marry a rich man, Emsleigh. If the insurers don’t pay out, you’ll have the creditors hammering on the door—’

  He broke off as he received a hard jab in the ribs from his wife.

  ‘Pray ignore my husband, Mrs Westerhill. His humour is sometimes quite out of place.’ She glared at her husband, who returned his attention sheepishly to his dinner.

  This altercation had claimed everyone’s attention and an awkward silence had settled over the whole table. At the far end, Althea gave a little laugh.

  ‘Well, I am sure I cannot wait for our Winter Ball. I do hope the weather will improve—what say you, Sir Lawrence, does this early snow mean we shall have a hard winter this year?’

  Sir Lawrence was thoughtfully watching Magnus, and Althea had to repeat her question before he turned to answer her. The tension eased as a general murmur of conversation began again. Magnus addressed an innocuous comment to Mr Wilkins and good humour was restored.

  ‘Whatever you say about Althea Emsleigh, she keeps a good table,’ remarked Mrs Molland. ‘Such a pity about Mr Norris! The man never could take his drink.’

  The ladies had left the gentlemen to their wines and were gathered once more in the drawing room. Rose followed her mother to a sofa near the fire. She glanced around to make sure they w
ere not overheard.

  ‘But do you think he is correct, Mama? That Magnus will be ruined if the insurers do not pay out? After all, there was that man in the study when we arrived…’

  ‘Good heavens, child, Magnus Emsleigh is one of the richest men in the county! No, no, I am sure there is nothing to worry about; it was merely Mr Norris joking at someone else’s expense! Do not let him make you uncomfortable.’

  The ladies settled down to while away the hour or so until the gentlemen joined them. Rose began to relax. She had been in Lawrence’s company for several hours and survived. They had not been close enough during dinner to converse and she was hopeful that they could continue to avoid each other for the remainder of the evening, by which time she would be quite used to his company. That, of course, would stand her in good stead for their next meeting, when she did not doubt that they would be able to greet each other with polite indifference.

  Her conviction was somewhat rocked when the gentlemen came in and she found her eyes immediately seeking out Lawrence, wanting him to look at her, yet such was her contrary nature, when he did so she immediately turned to join in an animated conversation with her neighbours.

  Magnus pointed out that the pianoforte and harp stood ready, should any lady wish to entertain them.

  ‘You are all so diffident,’ declared Althea. ‘I shall start, then!’

  She sat down at the harp and began to pluck at the strings. A polite hush fell over the room. Lawrence moved silently towards Rose.

  ‘Do you play, Mrs Westerhill?’

  ‘The pianoforte, a little.’

  ‘Do not be so modest, Rose,’ said her mother in a loud whisper. ‘She plays very well, Sir Lawrence.’

  ‘Then I should very much like to hear her.’

  Rose gave a little shake of her head. To sit at the pianoforte, inviting everyone to look at her—giving Lawrence every excuse to look at her—she could think of nothing worse.

  ‘I do not intend to play tonight.’

  She was immediately sorry for her sharp tone. Lawrence’s brows went up, but it was impossible to apologise without drawing more attention to herself. She was on edge when he was so close and she could only begin to relax again when he moved away to sit beside Lady Pullen.