Rosanna reached her chair only to find Lord Winstead there before her, and the heat rose up her neck as he solicitously helped her into her seat. Her arm prickled with delicious attraction when his hand brushed her skin.
“Very good, everyone. Since we are informal, please forgive the lack of place cards. I shall attempt to do better next time.” Lady Brook then turned to her left and began to share repartee with Lord Winstead.
Rosanna felt quite awkward. Here she was, sandwiched on her right by Lord Winstead, the source of the most embarrassing situation she’d ever faced and on her left, righteous Miss Barton, by whom she’d been dressed down for happening to meet the man in the woods.
Miss Barton tendered a dinner table topic. “This soup is delicious, is it not, Rosanna?”
The commonplace words helped Rosanna through this rough moment. She responded with gratitude. “Yes, so delicious. Have you tasted the lobster salad? I recommend it.” There, not even one quaver in her voice. Feeling stronger, and about to turn to her right and say something neutral to Winstead, she was interrupted.
Halburt, from across the table, made a bid for her attention. Halburt appeared to be asking her something.
“So sorry, I was woolgathering. You asked?” Her right side tingled with awareness of Lord Winstead. Why, since he was just another neighbor?
“I fondly remember the traditional treasure hunts that used to be held at Honor’s Point. That was such a treat.” Across the white linen expanse, Halburt’s eyes gleamed at her. He pointedly waited for an answer.
Why, the man acted like a discourteous child. What on earth would possess him to refer to events from the Winstead family’s years as owners of the estate? Did he not have an ounce of discretion?
“I have no real knowledge of any treasure hunts. Other than you asking about them. Perhaps you can enlighten him, Lord Winstead?” She hated to carry this into his lap, but she really didn’t know how else to respond.
“Those are bygone days. Some members of the older generation were prone to creative entertainments back in their era.” His frosty tone by all rights should serve to quell the bumptious neighbor, Lord Halburt.
Rosanna’s ears burned, so embarrassed for Lord Winstead having to speak about the past when those very days of excess led to the eventual loss of his lands.
Halburt, however, did not recognize a set-down when one smacked him in the face. “I remember those wonderful treasure hunts so fondly. Such a lark they were. If you’d be so kind, Miss Cabot, to ask the housekeeper if she remembers the details of how it was carried out?”
“I’m not sure I’m interested in recreating that tradition.”
“You could have a treasure hunt for tradition’s sake. That would be a true delight. Perhaps when my esteemed guest, the poet Walter Scott, comes to visit?”
The square-jawed, handsome lord’s comical yearning expression looked like a child hoping for a treat. Stifling an urge to laugh in his face, she gave a response that half assented. She mumbled, “As I said before, perhaps.”
To avoid any further queries or requests, she applied herself to the beef and Brussels sprouts. Never had she been so glad to see a full plate in front of her.
23
Rosanna’s eyes opened. Drapes pulled back, sun shone into the room. A cup of chocolate steamed on a tray next to her bed. Groggy after her late night, she sat up and reached for the eye-opening beverage.
Though soon wide awake after a few stimulating sips, she closed her eyes again. Prayer seemed like the best way to start the day. Lord, please protect this household, and guide me …more thoughts flowed from her mind and heart. It felt so good and so right to pour out her cares to her Heavenly Father.
The duties she carried as mistress of a large estate lay heavier on her shoulders than expected. Though satisfying to have Ellie here, the unanticipated corresponding weight of responsibility set her to worrying.
What of Ellie’s future? Though her goal of escaping from the trap of being married for her fortune and bloodlines was accomplished for now, what about next year, the year after, or ten years from now? Should she really encourage Ellie to remain single and alone even if only by tacit approval? Such heavy questions to ponder.
With a start, she sat up in bed, eyes wide open due to her a sudden revelation. What if I were to marry someday? How would that play out? Would Ellie continue on in her refugee status permanently? Rosanna needed to have a talk with her.
It could be a tragedy for the Ellie to live burrowed away here with life passing her by. Not something to be decided by default. Too momentous. When planning a refuge for young ladies fleeing forced marriage, she’d only thought of providing the place of escape, not realizing the liabilities and emotional toll involved. Getting away from a horrid arranged marriage was a good thing, but an entire lifetime hidden away didn’t seem right. She’d hate to see Ellie locked into a situation in which she lived all her days hidden from the world.
Not that she found Ellie to be burdensome or unpleasant. No, spending time with someone near her own age blessed her. They must discuss some scenarios for the future. The inconsistency of her own position flirted on the edges of her logical mind. Pushing the errant thought away, Rosanna threw off the covers and scrabbled on her desk for pen and paper to add ‘discuss future - EM’ to one of her lists.
Flopping back into bed, mind spinning with concern, she pulled a pillow over her head. Lord willing, Ellie’s presence wouldn’t produce serious problems. Rosanna would get used to the new burdens. Through running Honor’s Point, she’d already gained more experience in decisiveness and initiative.
Whatever her own future held was just that—future—and she would know what was right for her. She wasn’t accustomed to being a leader or having any bearing on another’s life decisions, but she’d give Ellie’s dilemma a top priority. Responsibility was beginning to feel normal, but merely providing a refuge had unexpected consequences and baggage.
~*~
Dot assisted her again this morning. That proceeded well. The small decision of choosing a new lady’s maid made another step toward becoming confident at running an estate.
Attired in a jonquil day dress, sprigged with apple green, the matching ribbons danced as she skipped down the lavish oak stairs toward the hot breakfast served in the dining room each morning. Rosanna made selections from chafing dishes on the sideboard. Bacon, eggs, ham, and applesauce—she had plans for the morning and ate heartily.
A handy footman glided forward to seat her, and another poured hot coffee.
Her companion arrived and joined her at the table, her plate containing only a piece of bacon. Rosanna passed the sugar bowl. “Here you are, my dear Miss Barton—for your coffee.”
“No, thank you. I’m reducing.”
“I see. Taking a page out of Dr. Fanting’s popular book?”
“Yes. Limiting white foods. Such a late night I haven’t had since London. After midnight.” She sipped her coffee with obvious contentment.
“Yes, it was quite the affair.” Rosanna nibbled her second piece of bacon.
“Such an exceedingly delightful evening last night, don’t you agree?” Miss Barton said, after a brief silent prayer.
“Yes, and Mr. Clough is quite congenial, is he not?” Rosanna couldn’t resist teasing her staunch companion. She’d detected signs of a tendre, at least on Miss Barton’s part.
“He’s a wonderful minister, and that’s what’s important.” Miss Barton gave a small harrumph and applied herself to nibbling her breakfast.
Rosanna decided to leave the topic of Mr. Clough’s good qualities for another time. “Another thing that’s important is getting your new dresses, as is due for your new status as companion. I am so glad we ordered those gowns.”
“Mrs. Beaumont can only work so fast. She came as arranged two days ago.”
“Were you satisfied with her skill?”
“Very much. I am grateful for the dresses, dear. And can’t wait to wear them, especially to church.”
Stifling her amusement, Rosanna turned to greet Ellie, who entered the room. “Good morning. This is perfect. The three of us can have a coze about the party last night.”
Ellie’s plate held only toast. “Toast and coffee. That’s the ideal breakfast for me. If I eat more, I feel like a stuffed goose.” She observed Rosanna’s plate and backpedaled. “Of course, others don’t feel like stuffed gooses, silly of me to say that.”
“I don’t mind, Ellie. I love a hearty breakfast, and I’m not easily offended.” She wanted to put Ellie at ease. “Miss Barton eats lightly today as well.”
“To be expected after the lavish meal last night. How did you like your various dinner partners?” Ellie sipped at the hot coffee.
Rosanna volunteered an answer. “Lord Halburt behaved quite different than I expected. So enthusiastic and youthful last night. All that interest in what amounts to a childish amusement.” She hoped her remarks would deter questioning about Winstead.
Ellie raised her eyebrows and cut her toast into small pieces. “Childish amusements? Oh, you must mean his inane talk of treasure hunts. He seems to have a vast passion for them.”
“His looks alone might lead one to expect him to be a paragon in all things. That chiseled profile, the thick hair, and his physique resembling one of those Greek statues, if I may say so.” Rosanna looked over at Miss Barton with a smile, fully expecting a set down. Her companion did not disappoint.
“Miss Cabot. Referring to a man’s build is thoroughly outré. You must refrain from such risqué talk. Really. Just because we live in the country, you needn’t become coarse.” Miss Barton rattled down her cup harder than necessary to emphasize her point.
Rosanna had all she could do to refrain from laughing. She liked to goad Miss Barton occasionally, all in good fun, but she felt a little guilty. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry. It’s too beautiful a day for that.” Her gaze turned toward the French doors of the dining room. Outside, a perfect day unfolded. “Who wants to walk with me?” She glanced from Ellie to Miss Barton. Giving them time to respond, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her fine linen napkin, plunked it down next to her plate and pushed back her chair.
Ellie and Barton were each waiting for the other to answer.
Rosanna got the impression neither one wanted to take a stroll this morning. “Ladies, I have been told quite roundly that I am not to walk out alone any more. One of you will have to accompany me.”
“That’s correct. You must not wander about unescorted, even here.”
In Rosanna’s opinion, Miss Barton took undue satisfaction at setting a limit for her. Decisiveness was in order. “Since neither of you ladies want to go, I shall take Dot.”
Rising, she rang the bell. When Perkins appeared, she requested that Dot be called upon to walk out with her.
“I highly approve.” Miss Barton sniffed and lifted her chin.
“I gave you my word. Having Dot along won’t be an annoying intrusion. Why, she’s so quiet, it will be similar to being alone.” Rosanna refused to become aggravated on such a glorious day. She meant to have a wonderful walk, and nothing could keep her from that.
24
“Are you all right, Dot?” The short-legged maid struggled to keep up with her pace. What a bother of a situation. If only Miss Barton hadn’t extracted the promise not to walk alone.
“Yes, miss, I’m all right. Just not used to walking so far.” The slender young girl flagged, so Rosanna took pity.
“There’s a clearing ahead, we’ll stop there, and you can rest.” She recalled times when her dear mother put her own convenience aside to accommodate a weakness in a maid even staying up all night nursing sick servants back to health. Mother taught kindness to staff as part of being a ‘real’ lady.
Dot drew a hand across her pale forehead. “Thank you, miss.”
Rosanna’s heart went out to the wilted girl. They reached the clearing and sat on a convenient downed tree trunk. “Amazing how rough bark can be so comfortable when one is tired.” Rosanna enjoyed a few peaceful moments in the quiet, serene spot while the maid caught her breath.
The tranquility ended with the sound of rustling in the brush.
Emerging from the woods, Lord Halburt came into view, briskly brushing himself off. “Miss Cabot! I say, what a surprise!”
To Rosanna’s ears, his exuberance hit a false note. With sinking heart, she remembered his estate lay in this direction—perhaps they’d wandered onto the annoying man’s property. That would explain his presence. “Yes, ‘tis a surprise. Are we near or upon your lands?”
“No, no. You are still on your own fair land. Our shared boundary, dear Miss Cabot, is at least one-quarter mile that way.” Using stage worthy gestures, he turned away to point.
Rosanna and Dot looked at each other. Mistress and maid suppressed smirks. The man’s silliness invited mockery, even though one must refrain. His stagey poses, dramatic flair, with theatrical gestures and the good looks of a Greek god, made his every move and word seem like something out of a farcical stage play.
Standing and brushing off her dress, Rosanna made ready to retrace her steps to the manor. “So nice to see you again, so soon.” Rosanna waved and stepped off with a rapid pace. But his voice speaking from the region of her right shoulder took her aback.
“I’ll come with you. It’s been a while since I visited at Honor’s Point. Other than my two recent brief visits, I can’t remember the last time.” His pompous tones were loud, and he strode along poking at the underbrush with an elaborate walking stick.
Rosanna picked her way down the path, fuming with irritation. What on earth did he mean by his remarks? He was there two mornings ago. The coxcomb must think he’s irresistible. Lord, when I asked You to give me more patience, this was not the trial I had in mind. Nor did plans for the day include a visit from this unwelcome, uninvited guest.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Dot ten feet behind, stumbling along in their wake, doing her duty as chaperone, since the need for one truly existed now.
The party of three reached the house and entered the front door which opened at the hands of vigilant Perkins.
Rosanna breezed into the hall, handed her bonnet to the butler, and said a few hasty words of instruction. She nodded to Halburt, and with ire-fueled dignity, ascended the stairs. She paused and glanced back to witness Perkins relieving the noble neighbor of his ebony walking stick and top hat. The butler then stood ramrod straight to convey Rosanna’s wishes. “Lord Halburt, Miss Cabot requests you please be our guest in the drawing room.” He stepped with a somber gait over to a door which he opened with a flourish.
Dot scuttled past Halburt and followed Rosanna up the stairs.
~*~
Rosanna entered the drawing room a short while later and realized Ellie’d been in there reading. Oh, bother! Poor Ellie.
Halburt continued to talk non-stop of everything from the local hunt, to property values, to whether Honor’s Point would host any parties soon. His flow of words stopped only when Rosanna cleared her throat to announce her presence. She observed Ellie’s stunned expression. “Miss Moore, are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine. Lord Halburt was just telling me about…himself and a few other topics. My, it was so fascinating. I had a hard time keeping up with it all.” She set down her book, rose, and then crossed the room, achieving some distance from Halburt. “I need more light.”
Near the fireplace, Ellie’s little hands fumbled in a workbasket next to a conveniently distant chair. She sat and busied herself with an embroidery project, head down, getting a needle threaded and finding the place she left off.
The nobleman greeted Rosanna with his now-customary overblown bow and flourish He began a sustained monologue on a set of antique armor he was corresponding with a dealer about, and Rosanna understood why Ellie looked stunned. Halburt was a consummate bore of the first order.
Rosanna calculated how soon she could bid him adieu without being consider
ed rude. Why didn’t she say good-bye when they’d arrived at the door? She framed words of dismissal and opened her mouth to speak when he began to flirt.
“Do let me add, the sky did seem to become bluer after I stumbled upon you this morning. When I first saw you in the woods, Miss Cabot, I thought I’d caught sight of a nymph. Yes, that’s true, so classic, you are so worthy of being immortalized on a Grecian urn.”
Her eyes widened in shock at this outpouring of treacle. Did he think she liked him tipping out the butter boat upon her? “Now, Lord Halburt, do cease this undeserved praise, it’s too much.” Her true self wanted to shove him out the door. Dishonesty in the service of diplomacy still rankled. Her words weren’t a lie, but she felt like a deceiver, for not giving him a well-deserved set down to firmly send him on his way.
“Miss Moore, you too are looking fine this morning.” He turned his flattery on Ellie, ignoring Rosanna’s request to desist and raised his voice to cover the distance to the corner where Ellie sat stitching. “Finding you here in this room was a treat to my poor lonesome existence. Having a sweet maiden such as you in the vicinity is a balm to me. Such a pretty lady.”
Rosanna wanted to burst out laughing at Ellie’s expression upon receiving this outpouring. She had the look of prey staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
Enough of his absurd posturing. Going on the offense, Rosanna stated in a flat tone, “We have enjoyed your visit and will see you another time in the future.” Upon that statement, she rang the bell, and said, “Perkins will let you out.”
Caught off guard, the man could do nothing but get up out of his chair and bow his way out, filling the air with flowery farewells. “My heart yearns for the next time I shall be blessed by the presence of two such visions of loveliness. Farewell, sweet maidens of beauty.”
After Halburt left the room, and the front door closed with a solid boom, Rosanna laughed softly.
Ellie joined in.
It felt so good to laugh after the odd tension the man caused.
“That was peculiar.” Rosanna smiled, eyebrows raised, but lips shut to prevent more hoots of mirth from escaping. “Does he have intentions toward one of us?”
A Refuge for Rosanna Page 12
