The hour of eleven came and Dot entered saying the minister had arrived.
Rosanna immediately went to the drawing room and found Mr. Clough standing by the window. She closed the door before greeting the clergyman. “Good morning!” Rosanna held out her hand and led the minister to the settee. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice. I need a fair amount of wisdom and advice from you, I’m afraid. Life is becoming complicated and I need your wise counsel.”
The dark-haired, older man swept the tails of his coat out of the way as he seated himself. “Happy to be of service. Let us begin with a word of prayer.”
Rosanna murmured assent and bowed her head.
“Our Father in Heaven, please guide our words, and by Your Spirit bring Your wisdom to bear on the life of Miss Cabot.”
“Thank you.” Her voice shook, and unshed tears threatened to fall. The paternal loving kindness in the man’s voice about undid her. She clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. She didn’t want to turn into a watering pot now of all times.
“So, Miss Cabot, you are in need of advice, and I am in need of tea. I took the liberty of telling Perkins to send a tray.” He raised his craggy brows and gave a crooked grin. She caught a flash of the boy he once had been—a reminder of the minister’s humanity. She could only hope he epitomized a fount of wisdom.
“That’s fine. Now, before the tray arrives, I shall tell you one of my concerns. Nobody knows of this save my companion, Miss Barton, and my friend, Miss Moore. Last night, a prowler intruded into Miss Moore’s bedroom. The Lilac Room. Through the window, I might add. A sound woke her, she screamed…a figure dressed in black, the room’s contents askew...” She stopped to take a breath.
“There now. You just breathe for a minute, I hear the tea trolley.” He held up a finger.
Dot backed into the room, pulling a wheeled tray. She brought it into position and bobbed a curtsey.
“Dot, thank you. Right there, that’s perfect. Now, I have a request, please go outside and try to ascertain who used a ladder on the grounds yesterday. Just say you need a ladder and heard one was near the house yesterday, and you thought it might still be handy. See what is said. Don’t actually bring me the ladder, though. Do you understand?” Rosanna looked intently into the young maid’s face.
“Yes, miss.” The girl bobbed again, off to do the mistress’s bidding, closing the door behind her.
“Now, take some deep breaths.” Mr. Clough eyed the tray, but didn’t overturn custom by pouring his own. He smiled in avuncular fashion. “There, you just sit still and gather your thoughts. When you have your composure, begin again.”
He was like a veritable shepherd and she was the lost lamb. So solicitous. She picked up the thread of her tale. “Nothing was taken. There are no trees or downspouts near that window. That was the point of entry. Of all things, I caught a glimpse of a ladder being toted across the lawn this morning but couldn’t tell where it had come from.”
“This is serious. I am glad you came to me for advice. My first inclination is to post a guard. Second, lock the windows of both the first and second floors. Third you must consider calling in the magistrate.” His brows were low, as the man concentrated on her information. “Hmmm. A spot of tea?”
“Oh, my, yes. Sorry to keep you waiting.” She went about the process of brewing the tea. “It will be only a few minutes, now.” She folded her hands in her lap and forced herself not to wring them. “I have already instituted a new rule that all doors and windows are to be checked each evening prior to the staff retiring. I assigned that job to Perkins.”
“If nothing was missing, do you have any idea what the prowler was after?”
“No, that’s the puzzling thing. It was my houseguest Miss Moore’s room. Another piece of unsettling information is that during the treasure hunt, I spied Lord Halburt coming out of that room before scurrying down the back stairs. He, however, didn’t see me. I’d clearly stated the bedrooms and kitchen area were not included in the treasure hunt.”
“I shall have to think about this. About what would be the next step, the best approach to this delicate problem. Thank the Lord the intruder departed the way he came and didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Here’s your tea. Sugar, correct?” Rosanna held out the cup and saucer, happy her hand was steady. Glad the man wasn’t an alarmist, she agreed with his calming plan to think things through before raising any hue and cry. While the man took a few sips, she collected her thoughts about her next problem—Lord Winstead.
42
“There’s more. I have a confession to make.” Rosanna spoke in a soft tone, not wanting to be overheard. Her cheeks warmed. “I’ve inadvertently gotten myself into a compromising situation. No one knows but me, and the other party.”
Mr. Clough shifted in his chair and twitched his mustache. “If no one knows, and you didn’t intentionally harm another, why do you need to confess?”
Her face hot, she hung her head and lowered her gaze to her lap. “I’ve been less than honest. I’d promised Miss Barton not to walk out alone anymore, and I willfully and deceitfully broke that promise.”
“Ah, Miss Barton. One doesn’t want to disappoint that dear lady, now does one? Surely you can go to her? She seems such a compassionate woman.”
That sounded serious. Rosanna made a mental note to make a few additional observations the next time Miss Barton and Mr. Clough were together. She peeked up at the man through her eyelashes. “Yes, I know she is a good listener. I just need to get up my courage to face her. I’ve never liked disappointing her. However, that sin merely led me to a much more serious problem. While on that last unaccompanied excursion, I purposely met up with Lord Winstead to view a waterfall he told me about.”
He gave Rosanna an encouraging smile, one touched with ruefulness. “Now we are getting to the crux of the matter. It’s more than simply taking a walk against Miss Barton’s wishes?”
“Yes, that’s right. In addition to that—much more. We, shall I say, exchanged expressions of affection. I fear my heart was rearranged that day.” She fell silent, thoughts far away in the glen, she gazed towards the window and relived the amazing and sudden thawing of her long-held ambivalence to men and romance.
He set down his teacup with a clatter. “Excellent. I am more than pleased that you two found each other. You’ll be a perfect match.”
Attention snapping back to the present, she held up a hand, palm facing out. “Stop. He doesn’t want me.”
“Absurd, of course he does.”
“No. Please listen. I don’t understand why, but by the time we returned to the house, to reality, he’d turned formal and cold. I will admit I wasn’t sure myself if we’d go forward together. My emotions were deeply engaged, however, and I had every reason to believe his were as well. I am not mistaken on that point. My imagination did not trick me. The next thing I expected was for him to call on me privately and offer for me.”
The minister’s eyebrows raised and he radiated doubt. “And since he didn’t?”
Rosanna’s heart sank as she realized how her words must sound. Like a disappointed miss, yearning for a proposal. “Please understand, I am not sure I would have accepted, not sure at all. I just don’t comprehend his sudden coolness—the change in him. Oh, there’s more.”
“Let’s have it all. Don’t leave anything out.” Clough patted her hand and sat back to listen, his hands on the arms of his chair.
“Fine. The rest is more of the same. Last night, at the dinner party? He did not seek me out to continue on our path to love and affection,” her voice took on a cynical tone, “he continued with his coolness and didn’t further our connection in the least.” By this point, she didn’t care what her listener thought, she just needed to speak her fears.
“I understand the situation. If I could snap my fingers and give a solution, I would. But as it is, we do have recourse. We can turn to our perfect Advocate. Let u
s pray.” He bowed his head and folded his hands, and Rosanna did likewise. After a moment or two, Mr. Clough began to speak in a low voice. “Lord God, King of the Universe, You have blessed us with life and we thank Thee most heartily. We do implore Your wisdom in the matters just discussed. Please provide insight and enlighten our minds on how to proceed…”
A few more petitions followed, and they said “Amen” together. Mr. Clough patted Rosanna’s hand. “The course of love never does run completely smooth. I believe there’s hope.” He steepled his hands in front of his chest, preparing to expound further.
Ellie burst into the room, out of breath.
43
“Rosanna, I…” Ellie came to a stop, her green morning dress swishing into position as she stopped moving and regained a dignified, feminine posture, then dropped a light curtsey. “Oh, Mr. Clough. So nice to see you.” Smiling, and clearly ready to burst, she had come into the room with such momentum, it took a minute for the dust to settle.
Rosanna noticed the heavy satchel in the young lady’s hand.
The unusual manner in which Ellie arrived on the scene dispersed the seriousness from the air.
“Miss Moore, your delightful arrival has mimicked the uplifting of the spirits the Lord gave as we lifted our burdens to him.” Mr. Clough scrabbled in his pockets. “I need to write down a sermon idea.”
Rosanna calmly handed him a pencil and piece of paper. “Will this do?”
“Ah, yes.” He placed the paper on his knee and bent over it.
Rosanna gestured toward the satchel. “Ellie, what have you got there?”
Ellie’s eyebrows raised, and her nervous gaze slanted to the minister.
Rosanna urged her to speak. “It’s all right, sit down, tell us.” She indicated the chair next to hers. “Mr. Clough is exceedingly confidential.”
“I thought to search my room a bit. It seemed the intruder was after something. Since my waking up forestalled him, I decided to poke around. I found this.” She lifted the bag from her lap and held it out to Rosanna.
Rosanna took the bag . Surprised at its weight, she set it on the tea table. “Where was it hidden? What is it?”
“It was concealed behind a fire screen. There’s a second, unused, fireplace in my room. It has a secret compartment. You will soon see what it is. Go ahead, open it.” Ellie closed her mouth with an emphatic nod.
Rosanna leaned forward and unclasped the satchel, and then opened it wide. She lifted out a large wooden box with an inlaid design on top. Mr. Clough swept the bag away and helped her place the box on her lap. She laid both hands on the smooth top of the box, and stroked the floral inlay, as if she had a premonition of the importance of the contents. She took her sweet time, drawing out the anticipation. She let her fingers play over the clasp, lifting the latch, but not opening the lid.
“Rosanna, please, you are keeping us in suspense too long.” Mr. Clough spoke from the edge of his seat, gaze glued to the lid.
Rosanna lifted it, ever so slow. She opened the box halfway, looked in, then allowed the lid to fall open, exposing a glittering pile of jewelry. “Oh, my! A real treasure, nothing like last night’s prize.” Her gentle fingers probed and lifted items from the pile. “There’s a piece of paper underneath all this.”
Ellie’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I didn’t notice that.”
“Ellie, put a clean tea towel on that plate and I’ll move some of these out of the way. I don’t want to risk dislodging anything onto the floor and having it lost or damaged.”
Ellie whisked a towel into place, and then Rosanna lifted a large cluster of tangled jewelry, using two hands and moved it to the cloth-covered plate. “Now I can get at the paper.” She pried it out by an edge and opened a note folded three times. A quick glance showed it to be a letter. She placed the rest of the jewelry back into the chest, closed the lid and set the box on the table. Smoothing the parchment on her lap, she began to read the short missive. Looking up at the others, she assessed the discretion and wisdom of sharing the contents of the mysterious letter. Coming to a decision, she began to read aloud.
Dear ‘?’ I salute you this way since I have no way of knowing who will eventually find this message. My tale is a sad one, for I married, at my parents’ insistence, a man whom time revealed to be a wastrel. My husband ran his estate, Honor’s Point, into the ground, gambling and frivoling our wealth away. I am ailing with not long to live and I foresee him losing all, hence this letter. I had my personal jewels copied and hid these, the genuine ones. I had to secure them thusly since my husband would have sold all to finance his revels. The gems in this chest are my sole property. The box contains only one piece of Winstead family jewelry, the betrothal ring given to me before my marriage. My beloved and only child, Peter, is to receive the contents of this chest as a bequest. So dear ‘?’, it is up to you to ensure that they are delivered to him, the rightful heir to my treasure.
Lady Adele Winstead
Ellie, quick on the uptake, put the pieces together. “Oh, Lady Winstead. That’s Lord Winstead’s mother—the one who decorated the bedrooms with floral themes.”
Mr. Clough’s voice held a tone of fond remembrance. “Yes, I knew Lady Winstead very well. A fine person who, shall we say, endured a trying marriage. I can easily imagine her doing this. She was a wise and loving woman.”
“If only her parents let her choose her spouse. Oh, well. That’s water under the bridge, or over the dam, or however that saying goes.” Rosanna believed on an intellectual level that God’s providence covered that too, but it did seem so unfair.
A tap on the door preceded Perkins, who entered and announced in his reedy voice, “Lady Brook, come to call.” He bowed and swept the drawing room door wide open to admit her.
Heart pounding, Rosanna slid the box under the settee, and then stood up, both arms extended. “Lady Brook, welcome. Please be seated. I trust your travels are over for a time now? We sorely missed your presence, especially last night.”
She sat down on an uncomfortable-looking Egyptian-style chair nearby. “Oh, leave it to me to miss such goings on. I already heard tell of a spectacular dinner party, which included a literary giant and a treasure hunt. Seems I’ve some catching up to do.”
After exchanging greetings with the others, Lady Brook once again turned to Rosanna, and pinned her down with her intense gaze, faded blue though it was. “Are you well, my dear? Your color looks quite heightened.”
44
“I’m fit as a fiddle, or, fine as sixpence, I think they say.” Rosanna averted her eyes as she spoke, making a diversionary commotion of slipping shawls, hair needing to be patted, and rearrangement of her skirts.
She pinned what she hoped passed as a carefree smile on her face. This wasn’t the time for any more revelations, dear as this lady was. She’d had quite enough for one day. After her lengthy unburdening to the pastor, and the discovery of the jewels and the letter, she desired to grab her bonnet and head for one of the paths. Walking helped her think. But no, she must curtail her freedoms. She set her mind to having as normal a visit as possible with one of her favorite neighbors.
Mr. Clough and Ellie were also present to help shoulder the social niceties.
She reached behind for a convenient bell pull, and gave it a tug. Only a minute went by before Perkins stepped in.
“Perkins, please inform my companion, dear Miss Barton, that her presence is desired here, also more hot water.” Rosanna tilted her head and glanced at Mr. Clough. She watched him for any reaction to the mention of Miss Barton, but he continued to keep busy chatting with Ellie and Lady Brook.
Miss Barton soon entered the room, eager energy to her stride. Clearly delighted to join the group, she gave a simpering smile to the minister.
Dot returned with more hot water, and Rosanna set another pot of tea to brew.
“No more for me, thank you.” Mr. Clough got to his feet. “Oh, Miss Barton, I was just leaving, may I be blessed by your company for a
small portion of my walk home? Perhaps to the foot of the drive?”
She looked at Rosanna for permission, who smiled to herself, since the shoe was now on the other foot. “Mr. Clough, that’s a fine idea. Miss Barton, you go ahead, I shall see you when you return.” Rosanna wanted to laugh but managed to hold it in. She began a description of last night’s party for Lady Brook’s sake.
Lady Brook, Ellie, and Rosanna sipped tea and exchanged a few more pleasantries, after which the neighbor took her leave.
Rosanna extended a hand to Ellie and gave a reassuring clasp. Rosanna’s mind already leapt ahead to what needed to be done.”Ah, finally. A pleasant visit, but strained, on the heels of your discovery of the jewels.” She rose and moved toward an escritoire in a corner. “Of course, I’ll need to inform Lord Winstead of this…this treasure. I will write a message and have it delivered.”
“That’s the thing to do. I shall leave you to your pen.” Ellie left the room, closing the door behind her.
After thinking for a few minutes, Rosanna bent to her task.
Dear Lord Winstead,
Something has come to light here at Honor’s Point. Something of great import to you. I request your presence tomorrow at ten o’clock.
Regards, Miss Cabot
Next, she sealed the note, and rang for Perkins. “Perkins, deliver this to Lord Winstead. It must go into his hands alone, so instruct the messenger, please.” Handing over the envelope, optimism swept over her and she began to imagine how it would play out. Would he be warm? Or would his coldness continue?
~*~
Rosanna’s slumber that night proved poor. Between playing scenarios over and over in her imagination, vivid dreams, and the presence of the jewel box under her bed, her night of sleep left much to be desired.
The sound of opening drapes woke her. It was Dot bringing coffee which she set on the bedside table before slipping into the dressing room.
A Refuge for Rosanna Page 19
