by Wendy Vella
“It is just as well we purchased more gowns for you upon your arrival in London, Primrose.”
“Thank you for doing so.”
Primrose knew she’d become a burden to her parents, and they certainly let her know often enough how the extra expenditure was unwelcome. They were botanists, along with her brother, John. All had vocations that drove them to spend months travelling to far-off places; any and all spare money was set aside for that. They had no wish to waste it on her.
Primrose had never quite been struck down with the same fever for exploration as her family. Yes, she loved flora and fauna, but she had no wish to write about them or travel to far-off places to dig up rare species. Thus, she and her family had nothing in common.
It had been a relief to them when Lady Jane had taken Primrose off their hands so they could focus all their time on what they really loved.
It was said that one never heard anything good about oneself by listening in on a conversation uninvited. She’d realized that much was true the day she’d listened to her mother and Lady Jane talk before they were due to leave for London.
“Yes, well, we shall hope to achieve a desired match for Primrose, Posie,” Lady Jane had said to her mother. “Of course, with very little by way of a dowry and considering she is twenty-five, it will be difficult, but I shall give it my best shot.”
Her mother had said she would be grateful, as they were due to leave for India in one month’s time and would like Primrose settled in a marriage before they came back, instead of lolling about the place.
She’d never lolled a day in her life.
She’d felt like an unwanted weed that had been ripped from the earth. But Primrose had not let on that she’d overheard. Instead she said goodbye to her family and left Hollyhock Cottage, the only home she had ever known, without a backward glance or tear in her eye.
“I want you to experience what I had, Primrose,” her mother had told her before she left. She’d come to her room and sat on her bed, which had been a shock, as Posie Ainsley did not have a maternal bone in her body. “Make the most of it, and don’t give Lady Jane any trouble. This is your chance to secure a future for yourself. Enjoy it like I did.”
From where Primrose had been sitting at the time, directly beside her mother, she hadn’t thought those years in society had been comfortable ones for her. Posie had run away with Primrose’s father and been banished from her family. Primrose, however, had kept those thoughts to herself. One did not argue with Posie Ainsley and come out a winner.
“Don’t bungle this,” her father had said with a peck on her forehead.
“We need you to do this right, Primpy,” her brother had said, using the nickname Primrose had always loathed. “It will make life easier for everyone.”
But that was the rub, really. Money from a wealthy husband would indeed make their lives better. They could use anything she sent them in the pursuit of their quests, and Primrose leaving would be one mouth less to feed.
“Frowning is flattering on no one,” Lady Jane said.
“Sorry,” Primrose mumbled as she began to wash herself.
“Neither is mumbling.”
“Sorry,” she added in a louder voice.
The problem was, she didn’t really like London. She was forced to be a lady there, which she loathed, and conform to any number of rules that society placed on their young ladies. Primrose lived in fear that at any moment she would commit a horrendous faux pas that would have her run out of town. At least here at Rossetter House she could breathe the country air and spend time outside exploring.
“Honestly, Primrose, how many times have we discussed this. You cannot grovel about in the dirt and dig up flowers now. You are not at home anymore. How can we hope to secure you a husband if your fingernails are continually dirty?”
“I shall wear my gloves.”
“That’s all very well, but you must try harder.”
“I know, and I am sorry, Lady Jane.”
A large woman with thick silver hair that was wrestled ruthlessly into an elegant creation daily, she was a stickler for living by the rules society set. Lady Jane had strong opinions on everything. Primrose had been terrified of her when first they met, but she’d soon realized that beneath that exterior was a gentle heart.
“Yes, well, enough said on that. Now we must hurry, as we are to walk into Two Oaks with a small party. We shall find you a new bonnet to replace the one you lost in the pond.”
Primrose knew refusal was futile, so she sank lower in the water. It wasn’t chilly, but still, she was cold from her impromptu swim.
“There are only four weeks left of the season, Primrose. Something must be done to secure you a husband, and I believe I have the solution to that problem up my sleeve.”
Her heart sank. “Dare I ask what?”
Lady Jane tapped her nose but said nothing as she went to instruct the maid on which dress Primrose would be wearing for their walk.
She did not know much about Mr. Hetherington, only that he had a twin brother and another who was a marquess. He was connected to many well-associated people with whom he spent time in the ballrooms of society most evenings. He was also a fiend… a vulgar, ill-mannered one.
“Lady Levermarch commented to me just this morning what a lovely young lady you are, Primrose.”
“That’s very nice of her.”
“Indeed it is, and she is a powerful woman in society. I’m quite sure she thinks you will make a wonderful match for her brother-in-law, Mr. Hetherington.”
Primrose choked on air. She started coughing so hard, the maid had to bring her a drink to stop it.
“I’m sure that cannot be right, Lady Jane,” she managed to wheeze when she could speak again. “He is a highly sought-after man, and I am simply a—a nobody. Plus, as you have stated, there is the matter of my dowry—or lack thereof—and advanced years.”
“You are also the granddaughter of an earl, Primrose, please do not forget that. Your mother turned her back on her family, marrying your father, but you can still use the connection.”
Never, she vowed. Her mother’s family had never spoken to their daughter again after she left.
“And Mr. Benjamin Hetherington has no need of marrying for money, Primrose. He is quite wealthy in his own right.”
“How lucky for him,” she said under her breath when Lady Jane walked away again.
Primrose let her eyes wander around the room she had slept in since arriving. Twice the size of the one she had in Hollyhock Cottage, it had windows facing the parklike grounds and a bed so large that she needed to roll several times to get from one side to the other. The furnishings were lavender and pale blue. The floor had a thick rug that she liked to walk over with no shoes on, as her feet sank into it.
“Now stop woolgathering, and let’s get you dressed.”
“Yes, Lady Jane.”
Her hair was washed thoroughly by Melanie, the maid who had been tasked with looking after Primrose. About her age, they had got along from the start. Both were country girls, and both missed their homes. Melanie also missed her family, but Primrose didn’t. She missed her family’s staff, however.
Thirty minutes later she was dressed in a pale blue creation that Lady Jane said brought out the beauty of her eyes. Her hair was twisted and pinned, which to Primrose seemed a waste of time as she would be wearing a bonnet, but as she had no say in the matter she kept her mouth shut.
Of course, she understood that she was honored to have such an opportunity, and she always made sure Lady Jane understood she was grateful, even if in her heart all she wanted was to return home.
Maybe her home life was not filled with love, but that house was hers alone for so many months of the year when her family packed up and left to visit some rare species of something. Hers, and the two servants who looked after them. Mr. and Mrs. Putts were more like her parents than her actual ones.
At Hollyhock Cottage she could spend hours in her gardens, tending m
undane plants like daisies and hocks.
There was also Herbert.
“Come along, Primrose.”
Following Lady Jane through the halls of Rossetter House, Primrose had to admit that not all parts of her foray into society were bad. Indeed, some of them were more than tolerable.
There were the gardens, of course, and the small stash of cuttings Lady Jane’s gardener nurtured for her. The grand houses were also a wonder. She loved seeing all the things on display and the beautiful furnishings. Plus, somewhere in this house was the book. The last remaining copy of Lucian Clipper’s renowned work published in 1532, simply titled The History Of Plants.
Oh, to see that book. To read the pages of the master. Her mother often quoted Lucian Clipper as the reason she loved botany. She’d attended many lectures during her time in London, and Clipper had been quoted often. This love, she had passed on to her daughter.
Primrose’s reasons for wanting to see the book were entirely different from those of her family. She wanted to see the pictures, see the lilies and poppies that he’d painted.
“Primrose, I have asked you the same question twice!”
“Forgive me, Lady Jane, I must have water in my ears.”
This was her first house party, and Rossetter was spectacular, and so old that she wanted to spend time exploring. She hoped to do that when Lady Jane napped in the afternoons.
“Good day.” The Duke of Rossetter walked toward them.
“Duke.” The older lady sank into a curtsey, and Primrose followed. Tall and distinguished, he gave the appearance of being a perfect fit for his title. He even had graying hair at the temples.
Primrose had spoken with him on her first night here. They had conversed briefly about the gardens, and she’d confessed her love of plants. He’d told her to walk where she wished, that the grounds were hers to explore. Primrose had liked him very much after that.
“Are you to walk into Two Oaks, ladies?”
“Indeed we are,” Lady Jane said.
A shriek erupted from down the hallway.
“Sophie, do not run!” the duke roared.
Alas, his warning was not heeded, and the next moment a little blonde-haired girl came barreling toward them with what looked to be a kite in her hands.
“Out of the three of them, this child will be the death of me,” the duke muttered, striding away from them to reach her in two long paces. “I have told you not to run in here, sweetheart. I have no wish for you to break hundred-year-old antiques, as your mother will be displeased.”
Primrose watched as he leaned down and scooped up his daughter, placing a loud kiss on her cheek. The gesture was genuine and spoke of his affection for the girl.
Never having been loved, Primrose often wondered what the feeling was like. It never really bothered her unless she saw displays like the one before her. Then she got a sharp pain under her ribs.
“Lady Jane, Miss Ainsley, may I introduce my daughter Sophie to you.”
“She is beautiful.” Primrose smiled at the little girl. Dressed in pink, she was like a bundle of sweetness. “Hello, Sophie.” Leaning in, she took a tiny hand and shook it, making the child smile. “It is lovely to meet you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Primrose. Do you like it?”
The little girl nodded, then urged her father to lower her to the floor. The duke wrestled the kite from her first.
“Can I walk with you?”
“Please,” the duke prompted.
“Please.”
“Of course, if that is all right with your father?” Primrose replied.
“Of course.” The duke’s smile turned him into something different. No longer austere, he simply looked like a doting father.
They let Lady Jane and the duke go first, as they would be slower. Holding out a gloved hand, Primrose enjoyed the feeling of Sophia’s fingers slipping into hers. She missed her time spent with the local children in her village, teaching them to read and write and the walks they’d taken together. This wasn’t her world, but one she would endure, briefly. The lance of longing was constant inside her when she thought of home.
Sophie chattered the entire walk down the stairs and outside into the sunshine, talking about her dolls and her siblings.
A small group had gathered ready for the walk into Two Oaks, and Primrose was not pleased to see Mr. Hetherington was one of them. She stiffened as he detached from those he was speaking with and came to meet them.
“Hello, Sophie.”
To her surprise, he dropped to his haunches and greeted the little girl first. The early afternoon sun bounced off his hair, turning it to bronze. His jacket was black this afternoon, and the waistcoat gray with black stripes. Gray breeches stretched to accommodate muscular thighs, and his large feet were in black boots polished to perfection. Primrose wondered if, like her gown, his clothes had been ruined after a dunking this morning.
“’Lo, Ben.”
“Where are you taking Miss Ainsley, Sophie?”
“For a walk.”
“It’s a lovely day for a walk, just as it would be for a swim.”
Primrose felt a dull flush of heat fill her cheeks at his words.
“I like to swim, but I can’t if an adult is not with me.”
“Yes, I can see that would be important, Sophie. Swimming is indeed a serious business, and one that you must not rush into without thought.”
He was saying those words deliberately.
Mr. Hetherington then rose to his feet, and was now only a matter of a few feet from Primrose.
“Come along, daughter, we have a kite to fly, and your brother and sister are likely stomping from foot to foot with impatience.” The duke once again picked up Sophie. “My wife will be accompanying you all. Please have a nice trip,” he said to the group of milling people, and then he was striding off and disappeared around the house.
“Miss Ainsley.” Mr. Hetherington bowed before her. “How has your stay at Rossetter been so far?”
Primrose came to a startling realization as she stood before him. She no longer had to have impeccable manners around this man, as he had made it clear he would never be interested in her, and after what he’d said about her earlier, there was no way she would be interested in him either. Of course, she couldn’t be rude, Lady Jane would find out, but she didn’t have to subdue her normal nature around him. It was a liberating thought.
“Well, as to that, sir, I had an unsavory encounter with a rodent earlier today. I was forced to take evasive measures and flee. It was quite terrifying.”
Rather than be insulted, a genuine smile lit his brown eyes. Actually, they were more treacle than just plain brown. White teeth flashed, and she found a small indent on the right cheek. He was already handsome, just as Laura Tomley and several other young ladies had told her—repeatedly, and in detail, when they thought it not beneath them to converse with her—but that smile added a little something extra.
“Really?” He leaned his weight on one leg while he studied her, and Primrose was very aware of the fact that Lady Jane and some of the other guests were watching them closely. He did not appear overly concerned that she had just compared him to a rodent, but then surely, as he’d compared her to a gout-swollen toe, the insult was warranted.
“Yes. But never fear, I am sure it will not bother me again.”
“You were forced to take evasive measures, Miss Ainsley. How drastic.”
“In the extreme.”
He leaned in to make sure no one else overheard them.
“What you did was reckless and foolhardy, Miss Ainsley, and you were lucky to escape unscathed.”
She inhaled him, and the scent was crisp and sharp in her nostrils. She refused to admit it only added to the impact of this man up close. Big and solid of form, he carried his clothes well, and yet sometimes, like now, there was a slight malfunction to his wardrobe. She’d noticed them the few times she’d watched him.
Primrose spent a lot
of time skulking in corners of society gatherings watching people.
“Your collar is turned in.”
“What?” He blinked, and she thought how unfair it was that his eyelashes were longer than hers, and that his brows, although thick, had a lovely curve. Primrose’s were straight.
“Your collar.” Primrose pointed. “It’s turned under on the edge.”
He lifted a hand and flicked it out.
“Better?”
Primrose refused to match his smile.
“I would hate for you to suffer ridicule, Mr. Hetherington,” Primrose lied with a false smile.
“How exceptionally kind of you, Miss Ainsley.”
“We would not want your legion of admirers to see you looking less than perfect.” I do not enjoy sparring verbally with this man, Primrose told herself.
“Let’s go then, Ben.” Mr. Hetherington’s brother came to his side; Mr. Alexander Hetherington. She knew they were twins because Laura had told her that too. They shared a smile, and something around the eyes, but not a great deal else. Alexander Hetherington was blond and always dressed elegantly in the latest fashions. His hair was rarely out of place, and he even walked with a certain style. His wife was beautiful, and together they made an imposing picture.
“Alex, allow me to introduce you to Miss Ainsley.”
“Hello.” He bowed, and Primrose dipped into a curtsey. “How lovely to meet you. Surprisingly, I don’t believe we have before?”
“No, this is the first time,” Primrose said. She was not a person who moved in elevated circles in society, nor one who instigated conversation. In fact, most evenings she hid in a corner hoping no man would take an interest in her.
Looking at Lady Jane, she noted the woman was watching the encounter. Primrose needed to get away from these men before Lady Jane decided a match was in the making between her and Mr. Benjamin Hetherington, which it definitely was not!
