A Refuge for Rosanna

by Susan Karsten

  9

  Rosanna shook her head, ousting the reclusive dark-haired neighbor from her thoughts. Viewing several more beautiful rooms in her new home would perhaps provide the necessary distraction—enough to blot out the memory of Peter’s twinkling, dark blue eyes.

  Mrs. Good stuck her head through the doorway. “Miss, I’m back. If you’re ready?”

  Turning away from the window, Rosanna smiled. “Lead on, Mrs. Good. Viewing the other special rooms again will be a pleasure. I was in a hurry last time and probably didn’t give them their due.”

  The morning passed in swift fashion, first examining the white and green Camellia Room, then ending the tour in the blue Cornflower Room. Both were lovely, and Rosanna planned to leave them as they were, now that she’d learned their history.

  “These are some of the prettiest rooms I’ve ever seen, Mrs. Good. I believe Lady Winstead and I would have been bosom friends if we’d ever met.”

  The housekeeper’s humble face came alive at the words of praise about her dear, departed mistress. “Yes, miss. She was a treat, and a good lady.”

  If any of Honor’s Point’s rooms required redecorating, it wouldn’t be these. Rosanna had no desire to dismantle such historic and beautiful décor. Each special flower-themed room stood testament to the loving care given to the decorating by the home’s former mistress. The creative artistry and excellent taste employed in the furnishings and color schemes touched something deep within Rosanna’s nature-loving soul.

  “Perhaps some new drapes? Replicas, of course. The sun has done its work on these. See how they are faded?” She held up a corner for the housekeeper’s inspection.

  “Yer right, miss. Your fresh eye picked that up. I’ve never noticed.”

  “I’ll inquire whether the shop in the village can order replacement fabric.”

  “The town will be pleased with custom from the manor again.”

  “Since the staff has maintained the rooms so well, further refurbishing appears unnecessary.” Rosanna allowed the corner of the drape to fall out of her hand when her ears picked up a sound. “Stop. What’s that?” She cupped fingers to her ears and cocked her head toward the drive. “I hear wheels—perhaps my guest arrives?” Lifting her hem, she flew to the window.

  A carriage bowled up the drive.

  She turned. “Mrs. Good, that’s sufficient for now. Thank you so much.” Rosanna restrained herself from dashing off. “I can find my way to the hall, you may proceed with final preparations of the Lilac Room. If I am not mistaken, my guest has arrived, so please make sure the room is ready.” Holding visible enthusiasm on a tight leash, she went below, setting foot on the marble floor of the large main hall.

  Perkins swept open the door.

  A female crossed the threshold. The woman’s veil obscured her face, but the gleam of red hair through the gauzy draping announced her as Elspeth.

  “My dear.” Rosanna moved forward with both hands extended and took the arriving guest’s hands in her own. Leaning in close, she whispered, “Don’t say anything yet.” She guided the guest toward the stairs, but turned back to give more instructions. “Perkins, order a tea tray brought to the morning room in one half hour, please. I myself will escort my guest to the Lilac Room.”

  “Yes, Miss Cabot. May I send up the trunk straightaway?”

  “Since the footmen are right here, yes. That would be fine, thank you. But I’ll take the bandbox. Travelling is so dusty, isn’t it?” Rosanna and Miss Mordant proceeded up the grand staircase, ahead of two liveried footmen hoisting a trunk.

  Once the Lilac Room’s door closed behind the exiting servants, Rosanna and Elspeth spoke at once, followed by a spate of nervous laughter.

  Rosanna took a calming breath, one hand over her heart. “I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for your arrival. Don’t worry, no one, save my trusted companion, Miss Barton, is aware of the reason for your visit.”

  Elspeth lifted her veil. “Thank you so much for forgiving my forwardness in inviting myself here. I had no other recourse.”

  “Of course.” Rosanna indicated a pair of armchairs. “Let’s sit.” She did so, and continued talking. “Your arrival is providential. I’m ecstatic you’re here. You coming here is the best thing that could have happened.”

  Elspeth sank into the other chair. “I truly had nowhere else to turn. The family was pressing me hard to accept a suitor. I’d like to be able to say he was a dastard, but he really wasn’t. Forty years older, though.”

  Rosanna’s shoulders rose as she gave a shudder. “Oh, dear. Shades of my own past.”

  “When I refused that one, they dangled my hideous first cousin in front of me as a threat. Perhaps you recall my cousin, Ferdinand?”

  “Oh, my. Not him. I do believe he was at a ball I attended last season. He’s…interesting. Black hair? And a pale complexion?”

  “So, you know who I mean. I don’t object to him merely upon his looks. It’s his character. He’s a worm.” Elspeth sniffled. “How could they do this to me?” She reached up to remove her hat. Her silken red hair gave off a subtle gleam.

  Pity wrenched Rosanna. “Save the rest of your tale for over tea. For now, I want to tell you how utterly impressed I am that you found me. You’ll find it hard to credit this, but offering refuge to others needing to avoid odious marriages was my plan when I first got here.”

  “That’s so perfect, it’s nearly unbelievable.” Elspeth’s hand flew to her throat. “The Lord is so gracious.”

  “Establishing such a safe haven has been put on hiatus due to an unforeseen problem.”

  “Tell me what happened with your plan.”

  “The details can wait, but suffice it to say, I faced the death of my dream when I realized that any publicity would also inform the ones who were forcing marriages on ladies. There went the required secrecy as to the place’s existence.”

  “A terrible stumbling block.”

  “Then your letter came. A true Godsend.” She patted Elspeth’s shoulder.

  “Oh, my. That’s wonderful to learn. I’m so thankful you are welcoming me. I wasn’t sure of my reception. I had no time to wait for a response to my letter. I needed to flee.” The diminutive redhead’s relief to have arrived was palpable and her words trembled with checked emotion. Elspeth reached out and clutched at Rosanna’s hands, a tear tracing a path on her pale cheek.

  “You are welcome. I vow God’s providence is so marvelous.” Rosanna indicated a pitcher and bowl. “Please avail yourself of the washstand.”

  The guest washed her delicate hands, then her face. Sinking onto the stool at the dressing table, she efficiently tidied her silky hair. Wavy tendrils had slipped out of the low chignon she wore.

  A rush of sentiment swept over Rosanna and she choked back a sob. “Don’t mind me—all at once I’m overcome by your dash for freedom. It reminds me of my own escape not so long past.”

  “You, too? I overheard a small bit of rumor, but how did you get out of it?”

  “Once you descend for tea, we’ll trade stories. I’m sure you’ll want to change your dress. Travel is so hard on one’s gowns. I shall send in a maid to help you. She can show you the way to the morning room. One thing before I go, though. Your name. It’s too memorable—too distinctive. Should word reach London, you might be forced to return.”

  Elspeth’s blue eyes blinked back tears. “Thank you for thinking of that. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t see straight.”

  “I suggest we tell everyone your name is…what’s short for Elspeth? I know, Ellie. And we will simply remove the last syllable from your surname and call you Miss Moore. Ellie Moore—ah, that sounds excellent. Do you like it?”

  “I love it. It’s in essence a new identity. Now, none of the servants or neighbors can spread word of my arrival.” The redhead repositioned a hairpin with an emphatic jab.

  Before Rosanna left the Lilac Room, she put her arm around Elspeth’s shoulders and gave an impulsive squeeze. The instant flow of ra
pport warmed Rosanna’s heart. The way her plans prospered made her float down the stairs. So pleasant to have a friend in residence—a friend to help fill her life’s voids.

  10

  In the morning room, Rosanna sipped tea and nibbled cucumber sandwiches and cakes with her guest. Mundane tea drinking struck her funny after the momentousness of Elspeth’s arrival. She wanted to laugh, but things of import must be discussed.

  “From here on, I will be calling you Ellie or Miss Moore. Do you think you can remember to answer to those names?” Rosanna clasped her hands under her bosom, embarrassed she needed to introduce subterfuge into the mix.

  Worry flickered across the redhead’s forehead. “I suppose it will take some amount of getting used to.”

  Rosanna observed the fleeting anxiety, and acted to forestall it. She gave a mischievous smile. “Perhaps I shall overuse it today, Ellie, to get you accustomed to it. So, Ellie, how was your trip?”

  With an answering smile and relaxed shoulders, soft spoken Ellie began a rundown of the travel. “It was arduous, I must say. Disguising myself as an impoverished widow was an inspiration. It got me through without much awkwardness. Thick black veils work wonders.” She gave a shudder. “I can only tremble to think of how I’d be treated on a public stage travelling as a maiden unescorted.”

  “Your widow’s weeds hid your distinctive coloring, Ellie. I barely perceived your hair color through the gauze, but I knew to look for it. People tend to turn away from grief, too. Very clever of you, Ellie.”

  Thus encouraged, Ellie finished the tale of her travels with more energy in her voice. “When the stage brought me to Woodvale, I hired a cart and driver for the short trip to Honor’s Point. That about sums it up. I feel as if I’m dreaming and can scarce believe that I made it here.”

  “I understand why, Ellie. Your escape is nigh to a miracle. Do you think you’ll be bored here, Ellie? So used to London, and all of its entertainments?”

  “No, I won’t. I never cared for the social whirl. My interest is in literature.” Ellie released a shy smile and tipped her head to one side, glancing sidelong at Rosanna. “With no one pestering me to appear in society, I shall indulge myself in some scribbling of my own.”

  “Excellent. Writing is a noble pursuit, Ellie. I shall have your room stocked with supplies. I must write that down.” Rosanna smiled encouragement and held out the small platter. “Another cake?”

  Ellie dabbed her lips. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for now. These are the best fairy cakes I can recall having, though.”

  “I retained the excellent cook who’d been here for decades before I arrived. If you hear me rhapsodizing about someone named Hannah, that’d be her.”

  Ellie stared into her teacup for a long moment. She raised her finely arched eyebrows in an inquiring expression. “I feel I should regale you with the remaining sad details of my recent life, if you really want to hear it.”

  Rosanna had a dozen questions but wanted Ellie to tell the tale her own way. “Let’s move over to the settee in that alcove. Farthest from the door, and with much drapery to muffle sound.”

  Ellie clutched the neck of her spencer jacket as she followed Rosanna to the alcove. “Are your servants nosey?”

  “No more than normal—best to be safe.” Rosanna angled toward Ellie. “It’s been harrowing for you, hasn’t it? Are you sure you can talk about what happened?”

  “I want to. It’s so good to have a supportive ear. I’ve been so alone with no one to confide in. I’m the youngest in my family, and you may recall my only sister died. Oddly, after she was gone, it seemed as though my parents couldn’t rid themselves of me fast enough.”

  Rosanna tamped her curiosity with a neutral yet encouraging remark. “Hmmm. I’d always heard how people dote on the baby of the family.”

  Ellie’s fingers pleated her dress. She began to talk in a soft voice. “You’d think so. But no. From the day I turned eighteen, it’s been nothing but them angling, and pushing me toward this, that, or the other arranged marriage. At first, after my come-out, there were suitors dangling about, so they gave me some room for my inclinations. But since I didn’t care to marry any of them, my parents began to take matters into their own pushy hands.”

  Sickened, Rosanna spoke from experience. “How unpleasant such maneuvers are.”

  “It dawned on me over time that I was like a card to be dealt in some scheme. My dowry proved attractive, but in addition, large payments would also be paid to my parents for their assent to any marriage.”

  “Unusual, but not unheard of.” Rosanna responded, then leaned back to listen.

  “I don’t quite understand the logic or legalities of it all. But back to the events. When I accepted none of the offers, including their favorite candidate—old enough to be my grandfather, they began to push forward my cousin Ferdinand. He, of the frizzy black hair, pasty skin, and bushy mustache.”

  Rosanna grimaced at the mere recollection of Elspeth’s cousin. Even seen across a ballroom, he was worthy of a cringe, hard to imagine having him foisted as a marital candidate. “Frightful.”

  “It was dreadful. I overheard them planning to get a marriage license and arrange a ceremony to surprise me. That’s when I gathered my courage and made a run for it.”

  “Quite a horrid story. I admire you for not sitting still for it.”

  “Thank you. What about you? What happened to you to bring you here to Honor’s Point, Rosanna?”

  11

  Rosanna glanced at the door, to make sure it was closed. Talking about her trials didn’t come easy to her, but after Ellie told her own tale, Rosanna could be brave too. She spoke in a hushed voice. “Where shall I begin? I am grateful to have my own fortune and that my parents willed it so I could not be forced into a marriage not to my liking. But my good outcome to a common dilemma is quite rare.”

  “So, having your own fortune solved it?”

  “No, it took a lot of gumption as well. My relatives, especially my Uncle George, got it in their heads that I needed to be married.” She grimaced, remembering the struggle. “I resisted mightily and the final agreement between me and Uncle George was hard won. He didn’t appreciate my refusal of all the men he put forward as suitors.”

  “Your uncle brought suitors? With me it was my parents.” Ellie’s face turned white and she clenched her hands in her lap. “I was some sort of bargaining chip to them. Finding a husband with the most advantages for them was their sole aim. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude my woes again.”

  “Quite all right.” Rosanna patted Ellie’s hand. “That must have been horrible.”

  Ellie urged, “Please, go on.”

  Even though Providence had blessed her outcome, painful chagrin flowed over Rosanna as she recalled the trial and she wiped her eyes. “Even though I am crying,” she laughed lightly, “It feels remarkably good to confide in you. I’ve been through my struggle all alone, as well.”

  Ellie nodded. “We shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone else is marriage-mad, casting all caution to the wind.”

  “So true. But back to my saga. I don’t want to paint my uncle as a villain. Uncle George wasn’t all bad. As my advisor and official guardian, since my parents’ deaths, he dutifully brought forth various marriage candidates who were worthy enough by his way of thinking. Not one of the gentlemen who circled around me with Uncle George’s permission and approval were very appealing to me, however.”

  Ellie wrung her handkerchief. “None? Me, either. Especially my cousin. He was not to be tolerated.”

  Rosanna’s heart went out to Ellie. “For me, there’d been a variety of pimply popinjays, foppish fortune hunters, and callous care-for-naughts. The last straw was a rotund candidate who happened to be forty years older than me. Uncle George didn’t see that as a problem, but I did.”

  “One of mine was forty years older, too. Maybe it was the same man.”

  Rosanna snorted with laughter, then closed her eyes a moment, savoring her fre
edom. “We can laugh now that we are safe.”

  “I must pinch myself to make sure it’s real.” Ellie gave herself a mock pinch. More giggles.

  Gathering her wits, Rosanna continued her tale. Now that she opened up, she wanted the comfort talking would bring. “When I finally put my foot down in no uncertain terms, Uncle went off in a huff.”

  “Angry? Was he furious?”

  “No, more embarrassed over failing machinations. A few weeks later, he came to me with an ultimatum.”

  Ellie raised a hand to her throat. “How terrifying.”

  Puffing out her chest, and deepening her voice, Rosanna acted Uncle George’s part. “Rosanna, I’ll get right to the point. Your presence in my home will not be a good influence on my girls. With Phoebe’s come-out next season, I don’t need the gel getting any ideas about rejecting perfectly adequate suitors.”

  Rosanna’s imitation sent Ellie into a bout of chortling. “Oh, stop. I’ll lose my tea. You could be on the stage.”

  “Thank you. Where was I? Oh, yes. When he mentioned my ‘presence in his home,’ that caught my attention. I folded my hands and looked up at him.” Rosanna acted out her part. “Alerted by the wording of his remarkable statement, I requested he elaborate.”

  “What did he mean?”

  “I asked him how he could continue as my guardian if I wasn’t in his home. It turned out that because of the unshakeable estate plan my parents set in place for me, and since I’d already reached my majority, I possessed some autonomy. This freedom saved me from having to acquiesce to an arranged marriage.”

  “You were blessed. Your parents must have loved you to put such a stipulation in place.” Ellie sipped her tea, and then placed the delicate cup back in the saucer. “What happened next?”

  “I vaguely understood the contents of my parents’ will, but quite a while passed since I’d heard it read. So, I requested more clarification before Uncle began additional lectures. I asked him to verify that there was no requirement that I live in his home according to the provisions of the will or guardianship.”