My niece says she wrote of the providential circumstances that led us to join forces in such an unusual event. Let me assure you that she is well, albeit shaken up, and willingly agreed to spend a visit at my London townhouse, where her aunt, and cousins, Phoebe and Myrtle, will be delighted to see her.
She will communicate soon as to when, if ever, she returns to her estate, Honor’s Point. That vicinity holds bad connotations now, so we shall have to see.
Yours,
Cabot
Peter rocketed to his feet, the settee shoved back by the force of his movements. He laid a hand on the arm of the settee, as if he were calming it. “Ladies, I must leave you now. The trip to London should be accomplished in two days on the road. Then I shall see clearly, face to face, if she’s truly in London of her own volition.”
“Lord Winstead,” Ellie stiffened, “You have her word, from Rosanna herself, that her uncle is a benevolent man. Rosanna spoke nothing but good of him. You really don’t have to worry.”
Hand extended to calm him, Miss Barton chimed in. “If she’s in London with her uncle George Cabot, a staunch man of good character with whom I have been acquainted for decades, she’s in good hands.”
Peter patted his jacket, to feel the folded missive resting within. “Unless I see her myself, I won’t be able to be rest assured of her well-being. Don’t forget, the love note from Rosanna that Halburt intercepted was for me, and therefore you understand why I am leaving.”
“Far be it from us to stop you, then.” Miss Barton spoke for both. Ellie nodded agreement, face serious.
“Miss Barton, please jot down Cabot’s address.”
She complied, and he bowed, one arm in front of his waist, and one behind his back, then stalked out of the room, head high.
59
Myrtle Cabot, seventeen and the older of Uncle George’s two girls, agog with the story of her father rescuing Rosanna from a crazed swain, pleaded for the particulars. “Cousin Rosanna, please tell us all.”
“Yes, Rosanna, tell us how you raced to Gretna Green with a suitor.” Phoebe, sixteen, leaned forward, avid for the tale.
“Girls, I wouldn’t put it that way. Yes, your dear father saved me. I was not a willing participant on a dash to marry over the anvil.” Rosanna sighed and pulled the lap robe higher. “You mustn’t romanticize a wicked trick played on me by a neighbor.” She’d downplayed the horrors for the sake of her cousins’ tender innocence. To share the true details would serve no purpose.
Myrtle pressed her fingers together and posed with them against her throat, eyes dreamy. “I think I’d love it if some young lord swept me up into a carriage, all caused by his passion for me.”
Uncle George entered the cozy morning room and strode over to group clustered near the fire. “Late spring can surprise us with some chilly days. How are you?” On his way to his special armchair, he patted Rosanna’s shoulder.
Sitting close to the fire, huddled against a chill that came from within, she gave a pained smile. “I am better than yesterday, and not as good as tomorrow.”
“Excellent attitude.” He addressed his daughters, “Girls, go see your mama, she’s got some swatches for you to look over.”
“They do love new clothes,” Rosanna said as the girls vanished.
“Good, they don’t need to hear what I am about to tell you. I must say I’m very glad they aren’t ‘out’ yet and can’t gossip about your misadventure. Except to each other.”
“They are so sweet. I’m sure they mean no harm with their interest.”
“I’ve been doing some checking on Lord Halburt.”
“Oh, him. I’m sick of that man. Must we talk about him?”
“Not too much, but you must be aware of the seriousness of some information I have obtained.”
“Obtained? How?”
“I hired an investigator to nose around town discreetly. Wanted to assess the caliber of his reputation in London, if any, and perhaps receive some fodder to use against him.”
“I don’t want revenge. Only never to see him again, if possible.”
“Not revenge, dear—protection. Only material to use if he were ever to act maliciously toward you. One can never be too careful with an unbalanced man. For all we know, he may think himself the aggrieved one.”
Rosanna gave an audible sigh. “Will this nightmare never end?”
“Don’t despair, you’ll get over it. It’s only been a few days since the sad event occurred…why, your bruises haven’t even faded completely yet.”
“You’re right, it will take some time. Also, I must remember my faith in God who will not forsake me or forget me.”
“That’s the spirit. Now, I’ll be brief, but what I found out involves not only Halburt, but his deceased father, the previous Lord Halburt. It seems he had a longstanding enmity against Lord Winstead, the deceased father of the current Lord Winstead, former owner of your estate, Honor’s Point.”
“Yes, Uncle George,” Rosanna said with asperity, “I know who you meant. I’m healing from a trauma, but I haven’t lost my mind or memory.”
“Don’t be testy with me.”
“I’m sorry, my patience is short today. What form did this enmity take?”
“It appears the elder Halburt was enamored of a certain lady. That lady, chose another man, the elder Lord Winstead. That was an ancient piece of gossip my sleuth unearthed. The other information, however, is much more shocking, but hard to prove.”
“Do we really need to comb over old scandal?”
“Maybe not, but hear me out and I think you’ll understand the importance of my information. It seems the two men would go up to London together, at Lord H’s invitation. He lured Lord W into excessive gaming. The rest took care of itself when Lord W became addicted to the tables and lost his fortune.”
Rosanna’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, my! How terrible.”
“There’s a rumor that he, that’s the elder Lord H, repeatedly pressed Lord W to sell him Honor’s Point, a property Lord H long coveted.”
She chafed her hands, cold again. “That I certainly believe, based on the covetousness of his heir with his perpetual nosiness about my house and its contents. How sickening.”
“Let me put on another log.” Uncle George grabbed the tongs and poked a birch log onto the embers in the grate. “I have a plan. I’ll only enact it if you agree. I’ll contact the current Lord H. and invite him here to meet with you. I’ll have a magistrate and guards hidden behind that screen,” he gestured to the corner, “and they’ll throw Halburt into the Tower.”
“A lord of the realm? Uncle, please be realistic. What he did was heinous but won’t be deemed worthy of the Tower by the authorities or anyone outside our humble, non-titled family.”
Uncle George’s lower lip jutted before he agreed, with reluctance. “I suppose you are correct. I’ll have to go back to the drawing board on that. I just don’t want to see him get away without punishment.”
“God above knows Lord Halburt’s every sin, and will deal justly with him whether in this life or the next.”
“You’re too kind, dear. I shall leave you now and go wrack my brain for a while. I’ll come up with something.” He departed, leaving Rosanna alone with her thoughts and a roaring fire.
~*~
Her eyes flew open sometime later, welcome sleep having visited her after Uncle George left. A noise intruded on her slumber. A creaking door, and then stealthy footsteps. Alarmed, she tried to rise, but was entangled in the blanket.
“No need to get up,” whispered Lord Halburt, entering the room on his tiptoes.
“What are you doing here? Please leave before I have you thrown out.”
“Alas, the entire household is down the block aiding a fire-fighting effort. I think my diversion a success—don’t you?”
“You started a fire? You cad.”
“Tut, tut. You thought you could get away from me so easily? That I would give up my prize?”
�
��I am not your prize. My heart belongs to someone else.”
“You think that matters to me? Hah!” He snarled and produced a large bag and length of rope from behind his back. “Step into this politely, and you won’t get hurt.”
She moved toward him. “And if I don’t?” Rosanna’s eyes scanned for something to use as a weapon.
“Very excellent question. If I don’t emerge from the house in…,” he referred to a watch extracted from a waistcoat pocket, “two minutes, this room will be set on fire, and I will carry you out over my shoulder. It will appear as though I am rescuing you from another fire. Such a flammable neighborhood. So sad to see the damage to your uncle’s house. Especially as he is nobly fighting a fire down the block. So ironic, no?”
She put some warmth in her voice and batted her lashes. “Before I get in your vile sack, please come close. I want to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
She flung off the clinging blanket, approached him and cupped her hands to his ear, then screamed at the top of her lungs, “Help!”
He bent over in pain, yowling. He straightened and staggered toward her, fingers clawed. “Why, you vixen. Wait until I get my hands on you!”
Rosanna pointed to a spot over Halburt’s shoulder. “Look, behind you!”
“You are a pretty little liar,” growled Halburt, advancing upon her. But a hand clamped down on his shoulder before he got halfway across the room.
Lord Winstead stepped into sight moving out in front of his enemy. “Ah, but she’s telling the truth. You’ll cease your schemes regarding Miss Cabot this instant.” Lord Winstead held out a staying hand to Rosanna. “Stay clear, my love.”
She scampered to the far corner. “Halburt stole the note I wrote you, Lord Winstead, asking you to meet me at the falls. Maybe he has it on him.”
He touched his chest. “Darling, I have the note, right here.”
“The note,” mocked Halburt, sneering. “You’ll make a fine pair once I get through with blackening your names.”
“Halburt, you are the one whose tattered reputation stands in peril. Please leave now. I shall present things clearly to you, come morning light. Be gone!”
“We shall see.” Halburt left in a huff, cradling his ear.
She emerged from the dark corner. “He was about to abduct me again.”
“Thank God I came right away. The minute we got your uncle’s letter, I left for London. I arrived here just as he entered the house. Through the front door—he’s full of brass.”
“He started a diversionary fire down the block, then tried to force me into a large bag. He had it all planned.”
“Those minutes must have felt like hours, darling. Come to me.”
He enfolded her in his arms, and her world righted itself.
He stroked her hair. “There, now.”
Recalling herself, she moved away, retrieved her robe from a bedpost, and turned to Peter with a rueful smile. “As irregular as is our situation,” she made a gentle circular wave of the hand, “I think we should descend to the morning room.”
“Of course.”
He guided her down the stairs. A complete absence of servants indicated the fire down the block required more hands.
Once ensconced in an arm chair, with a coverlet over her lap and a shawl around her shoulders, Rosanna shared the latest news. “My uncle told me today that he has evidence that the Halburt family was after the Honor’s Point property and its treasure for decades.”
“So he was after the treasure? He didn’t see the real treasure under his nose, my love.” He pulled her to her feet again, enfolded her in a gentle embrace, and nuzzled his face into her neck.
She pushed away but stayed in his arms. “No, listen, you don’t understand his villainy. His father had an intentional hand in your father’s ruin.”
“I am not surprised. But those losses brought you into my life.” She sagged against him and he put his face against her hair. After a few seconds, he released her from his arms. Her shawl slipped, chilled again, and bereft, she looked up at him, questioning.
“The heat of the moment, rescuing my beloved, does not give me the right to caress you.” He draped the shawl around her shoulders.
“I’m grateful you arrived when you did. With Halburt about to both abduct me and set this house on fire.” She shivered and clutched the shawl tighter, missing his warmth. “Your presence vanquished him.”
“You vanquished my heart with your love.” Peter pulled the precious note from within his jacket. “When I found this, snagged on a bush in the glen, my heart was joyous and stricken at the same time, since I knew you’d met with foul play.”
She gasped.
He replaced the coverlet over her, and then spoke. “Back to the contents of the note. Thank you for forgiving me, darling. It seems this time, however, I am the one rescuing the damsel in distress.” He smiled ruefully, and Rosanna perceived the irony of this situation following along the lines of Melissa being rescued by Mark.
“Let’s put that in the past, where it belongs. You’ve repented to God, to the Russells, and to me. No reasonable person could expect more.” She waited for the words of love that she hoped would flow now.
“I must fetch your uncle back to the house. No one else needs to know we have been alone together here. Less chance of anyone giving credence to any gossip and lies Halburt may choose to spread about these unfortunate incidents.”
“Before you go, I hope you can assure me that Dot hasn’t crossed paths with Halburt.” Belated concern about Dot having been accosted by Lord Halburt clouded her joy.
“She was taken by force, bound and gagged and thrown into the baggage compartment of Halburt’s carriage. But she bravely vaulted out and valiantly headed for Honor’s Point, all while rolled and bound in a piece of carpet. I was on horseback when I came across her shuffling along the road. I brought her home, her tale alerted everyone your peril, and a search for you began.”
Rosanna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! I recall a loud thunk when the carriage hit a rut—that may have been her jumping out.”
Formal again, he bowed over her hand, brushing it with the lightest of kisses. “I must leave you for now, dear.”
Even though relieved about Dot’s safety, Rosanna’s heart stung with frustration. She’d thought surely by this time, all would be settled between them.
60
The next evening, Miss Barton and Ellie arrived at Uncle George’s house in London, much to Rosanna’s delight.
“We have plenty of guest rooms, so you must stay here.” She spoke a few words to the butler. “The staff will take you to your rooms, and I will order a light meal to be served here in the drawing room.”
When Miss Barton and Ellie returned from removing travel dust, Rosanna poured tea into thin porcelain cups and handed out delicate plates of food. She then quickly related all that happened, knowing the ladies would want to hear it all from her lips.
Miss Barton rose. “I am not feeling very well. I must retire for the night. This has been a lot to take in.”
Rosanna got up. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
“No, I’ll have a servant show me up. You stay here. Young people need to have time to talk. But for me, I want to retire.”
“I knew Lord Halburt to be an unpleasant person, but this last attempt exceeds all. So glad you screamed into his ear. He deserves much worse, though—the madman.” Ellie hopped to her feet and clamped her hands on her hips. Irate after hearing the sorry tale of Rosanna’s travails, her blue eyes sparked with anger.
Rosanna, at her ease on a lavender brocade sofa, leaned on her elbow and twiddled a strand of hair with her fingers. “Sit down, Ellie. I might as well admit something. You know that I wrote a note to Lord Winstead—the one Halburt intercepted. That note was an attempt to clear away an impediment standing between us which had stopped me from accepting Lord Winstead’s suit.”
Ellie sat down on the other end of a sofa, angled tow
ard Rosanna. “I knew love was in the air between you two, but I was not aware that he’d come to the point.”
“Yes, he asked for my hand. I kept that under my hat. Since all impediments appear to be vanquished, I expected a renewed proposal by now.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s quite late.”
“From what you described of the second attack here in London, dear, I am not surprised Lord Winstead forbore asking for your hand immediately. After all, the romantic atmosphere has been, shall we say, compromised by Lord Halburt’s infamy.”
“You’re right. that’s probably the explanation. But I long for those words. Since I’ve forgiven him, and of course, his fortune’s been restored—which was important to him, I desire only to be with him and righteously betrothed.”
“I understand.”
Rosanna held out her left hand, extending her fingers and gazed as if admiring a ring. She mused, “I wonder what the Winstead betrothal ring looks like? Surely his father wouldn’t have sold that.”
“You’re miles away, so dreamy.” Ellie captured Rosanna’s hand and patted it. “Tell me exactly how it was left with that cad, Halburt.”
“He stalked off, acting the injured party. Lord Winstead told him he’d speak with him about matters. Today, in fact.”
“I’d like to be a mouse in the corner for that comeuppance,” said Ellie.
“Not me, I’ve had my fill of violence and drama. And I’m tired of London and of waiting for Winstead. Let’s go home tomorrow. Back to Honor’s Point.”
“I’d love that. London makes me nervous. Though I’m an obscure person and draped myself with thick veils on the way here, I’m deathly afraid of someone recognizing me.”
Rosanna let out a sigh and rose. “You poor thing—all the more reason to leave. I’ll tell Miss Barton, Uncle George, and the girls. We don’t have much luggage—I have virtually none—so it shouldn’t be a problem to depart after breakfast.”
“Thank you, that suits me very well. Good night, then, the sooner we retire for the night, the sooner tomorrow will come and we can go home.”
A Refuge for Rosanna Page 25
