The Rogue's Reluctant Rose (8 page)

“I was so frightened, my girl! Quite at a loss as to what I could do to help you. I thought for a dreadful moment that you had been abducted and would be lost to us forever. That man is an utter blackguard to have stolen you in such a fashion. Why, we must hurry home at once and tell your Uncle Worthing. I dare say he will call that man out.”

Araminta, however, was very tight-lipped on the matter, apart from assuring her maid that she was unharmed, if a little startled, that the gentleman simply had an eccentric sense of humour, and begging Kitty not to say a word of it to her uncle. This, Kitty could not understand, though she gave her word.

“Eccentric or not, that man behaved most inappropriately! It is an outrage. I do not see why you would wish to shield him from your uncle. Sir Timothy would be outraged if he were to hear of it. We are fortunate indeed that it is so early still that very few people saw.” Kitty huffed, as they opened the little, iron, gate and proceeded towards the front door of the Worthing townhouse.

The equipage stood ready outside the Suttons’ townhouse at ten o’clock the following morning. At the insistence of Lord Worthing, Araminta was to take one of his carriages, though she had tried to persuade him that she would do just as well in a hired vehicle. Her uncle would not hear of any such thing, however, proclaiming that it was ridiculous that his own niece should make such a long journey in a hired carriage, when his own was both available and much more comfortable. He deemed the idea as ridiculous as if she had suggested travelling by stage-coach.

Aunt Worthing had fussed over her undertaking such a journey alone, even accompanied by Kitty, who took to protecting her charge with the same zeal a fierce mother cat would her kittens. Despite this, however, all Araminta’s efforts to reassure Lady Worthing passed over her without any effect.

When the time came to leave, she parted from her relations with a mixture of relief and reluctance. She was still unsettled from the turn the previous day had taken, and longed to be away from London, if only for a short while. She could see her sister-in-law and little nephew, and plan her next move in the safety and comfort of Fanshawe Hall. There, she would feel close to her family, there she knew her worries would be worlds away. Closing her eyes, she could already see the long drive through the park surrounding her home, shadowed by ancient oaks and elders. She could picture the elegant façade of the house, and the shabby stables a way behind it. She could see her brother’s face and those of her parents.

However, she also felt sorry to be leaving the Suttons, though she would see them again soon. They fussed and cared for her as warmly as they did their own children, and she had grown even more attached to them during the course of her short stay. As they parted, Susan gave her a hug and promised to write, making Araminta promise the same. Susan whispered that she had reason to expect a proposal from Lord Harris any day now.

“Hurry back, niece,” instructed Lady Worthing affectionately, as Araminta ascended into the carriage and Kitty accepted a basket of food for the road from one of the serving maids, before joining her young lady. “There is not time to waste, when you have a husband to secure.”

***

“Well, I say, Miss Minta, isn’t it lovely to be going back home?” Kitty remarked, startling Araminta out of her daydream. Surprised, she looked up from the page of the book she had been staring at blindly. She couldn’t seem to focus on the novel, and, despite the restless night she had had after the Huston ball, the regular rocking of the carriage had failed to put her to sleep either.

“Yes, Kitty, yes it is,” the young woman softly replied, running a slender gloved hand over her pale face in an effort to wake herself from the melancholy into which she had descended. “I shall be glad when we are home once more.”

“Ah, don’t fret, child! We are nearly there. Why, I am certain we cannot be more than an hour outside Colestershire, and then it’s a quick change of horses at the village, and before you know it, you’ll see the park.”

“I
have
missed it, Kitty. I didn’t realise how much except just now that we are going back.”

“You always did miss it when you were away, my dear. Ever since you were a wee little thing, you’ve been attached to the old Hall. I’m sure her ladyship is expecting us, eager to hear news from London.”

Araminta felt her throat tighten as tears threatened and she stared at Kitty’s kind, beloved face.

“Ah, my girl!” said Kitty as her young charge’s blue eyes welled up, her beautiful face crumpling heart-breakingly. “Don’t weep, now. Whatever is the matter?” Kitty put an arm around the girl, just as she had done when Araminta had been a child, weeping over a broken doll, or a teasing sibling.

Kitty’s kindness, however, only sent more tears spilling from Minta’s wide eyes and across her pearly cheeks. Without missing a beat, the former nurse produced a big handkerchief, handing it to the distraught young lady.

“Oh, Kitty, I want to go home so much. But how can I? Harriet is relying on me to fix matters! But I couldn’t manage it, though I assured her that I would save us. And now time is short before we are forced to lose the house. How disappointed Harriet will be to learn that I have failed us all! I failed to save our
home,
and now I won’t even be able to hold our family together.” Araminta heaved choking sobs, the tears now pouring unchecked down her face in silvery streams. “And Charles! I have failed Charles, when he had never once failed me. I could not even secure a husband. There is so little time, and who knows if Sir Timothy will ever propose now that I am forced to leave. And yet I could not break my promise to Harriet to come home and see her — she had been so melancholy, like a ghost of herself. And though she tried to hide it in her letters, it is clear to me that she is not well. What would Charles say?”

Kitty, who had known Araminta nearly her entire life, held the young woman, letting her cry, knowing that she needed to release the tension she had been holding inside her. Kitty frowned to herself. It did not seem right to her that such pressure should fall on her young charge, for despite the strength she knew Araminta possessed, she had endured too much hardship for one so young. She also had a niggling suspicion that a man was partly behind Araminta’s tears, and while Sir Timothy did not seem at all that type of man, she had a feeling that the rakish marquis was
just
the sort.

“Now, Miss Barrington, you stop that nonsense right now. And that is what your brother would have told you also, God rest his soul. He was a good, kind man, and he would not have liked to see you tear yourself apart so. You have done your best, more that can be reasonably asked of you. And he would have been proud. But he would not have had you weeping over something that is no fault of yours.” She had resorted to a stern voice, which she had regularly employed with both Barrington children in the nursery.

Araminta’s tears ebbed a little and she looked up at Kitty in surprise.

“Now, that’s much better. Good girl. Dry your tears now. What would her ladyship think, seeing you return all drawn and red-eyed? I daresay she would be most distressed. You are a clever girl, Miss Minta, and there is still time. I am confident that something will present itself. You just wait.”

“Oh, Kitty,” the young woman sighed, eyes bright from crying. “I do hope that you are correct. For short of Sir Timothy arriving at the house to make his request, I do not see how we shall ever be saved.”

“My girl,” ventured Kitty hesitantly, “are you quite certain that Sir Timothy’s request is what you truly want?”

Araminta looked genuinely surprised by the question. “Whatever could you mean, Kitty? Sir Timothy has been most kind and most attentive. He is a good man. Even Aunt Worthing likes him, and you know how careful
she
is about showing a preference for any suitor.”

“She is that, my dear. Very discerning lady, your aunt. But then, discernment does not always occur in tandem with what the heart desires.”

“The heart? You mean because I am not in love with him? But that does not really signify, Kitty. There are many happy marriages which began with nothing more than mutual respect and kindness. And Sir Timothy is just the sort of man I would come to love, in time. Oh, I know I always used to say that nothing short of a love match would do for me, but I was a little girl then. You mustn’t mind what I used to say. I have simply grown up and realised that the world is not the romantic place that I had once believed it to be.” Araminta gave the concerned woman a brave smile. “You mustn’t think that I shall be unhappy, if the union takes place, dearest Kitty. I won’t. And it will save our home, and Harriet and Henry will no longer need to worry about what is to become of them. Maybe I’ve just become less romantic with age, but I am certain that I shall be quite content.”

“If you say so, my dear.” Kitty still looked concerned, but she decided to change the subject all the same, offering Araminta one of the sandwiches Lady Worthing’s cook had sent with them.

***

They arrived at Fanshawe Hall after darkness had fallen, just when Araminta was sure she could not stand another moment of the suspense. Even the long drive up to the house did not bring her the comfort it usually did. She shifted restlessly in her seat peering into the gloom and attempting to make out even a glimpse of the house. Kitty kindly refrained from commenting on her charge’s restlessness.

At last, as the vehicle turned down the twist of road, the Hall came into view, lit up and welcoming in the gloom. For Araminta, it was a beacon of hope, and she felt her heart soar at the sight of it. She was home at last.

With an unconscious sigh of relief, she sagged against the soft carriage seating, and watched the house come closer and closer, a faint smile curving her lips as she felt herself relax.

“Ah, at last! I am sure I am much too old to have lived through another hour of such a journey,” chuckled her former nurse.

Harriet had been expecting them. As the carriage drew to a halt, valets came forward to take down their luggage and the driver took the carriage down to the stables behind the grand house. Lady Fanshawe came down from the door, tightly wrapped in a warm shawl. The night sky had clouded over, and the wind had picked up with the scent of impending rain, but Araminta did not mind, as she took in the sight of the baroque columns and tasteful decorations of the façade of the Hall, added just over sixty years ago by her great grandfather. The gloom prevented her from seeing the whole, but her memory filled in the rest. The heels of her travelling boots crunched along the stony drive as she proceeded towards the house, beaming at her sister-in-law.

Harriet’s blonde hair was neatly piled on top of her head, and she still wore her mourning black. Araminta felt a tremor of concern as she took in the older woman’s pallid complexion, made starker yet by her dark gown. Harriet looked worn and tired, and she had grown thinner in the past month. Araminta felt her guilt rush back. How was she going to tell Harriet that she still had no luck? She knew, without a doubt, that the hopeful tone of Harriet’s letter did not depict her true feelings. She wore melancholy like a veil.

“Minta! Welcome back. How glad I am to see you.” Harriet’s voice sounded cheerful, though Araminta knew she was making an effort for her benefit.

“And I you, dear sister. I am so pleased to be back. But Harriet, you are looking so very thin. Has cook not been feeding you well? And how is little Henry?”

Harriet enfolded the younger girl in a warm hug.

“Nonsense, my dear, I assure you I am as well as can be expected, and getting better. Only I have missed you. It is simply not the same here without your cheer, though I have not been entirely lonely — some of our neighbours have been to see me, you know. Henry is well also. A lively, clever little boy, more like his father every day.”

Her voice almost choked at the mention of Charles, but she carried bravely on, taking Araminta’s elbow and leading her into the house. Minta knew that a strong love had existed between her brother and his wife, and she could see with each day how much Harriet missed Charles. She wondered at the wisdom of Harriet’s remaining at the hall, where so much reminded her of him, and reopened barely healed wounds. But she knew that the house held, as it did for herself, many happy memories, and it was because of this that Harriet would not hear of leaving.

“Come, Minta, I have a warm supper waiting, and a bed, of course. How was your journey? You must be very tired. How did you find London? I trust you enjoyed yourself? The Worthings were good to you? But of course they were. I am being silly.”

Harriet accompanied Araminta all the way to the door of her room, seemingly loath to part with her now that she had come back. Araminta’s expressive eyes filled with warmth as they took in the familiar surroundings, and as Harriet’s gentle voice washed over her.

“I shall wait for you in the little dining room, Minta, when you come down for supper. I am so eager to hear of all your adventures!” With another smile at her sister, Harriet descended the stairs.

Harriet’s maid, Jenny, came in to help Araminta with her toilette. Jenny was a young woman, and very shy, but she imparted to Araminta that her ladyship had not been at all well.

“Very bleak she has been, Miss, and sad. She rarely plays her piano any more, and she likes to sit and watch the rain. She is worried, Miss, and she misses his lordship,” Jenny told her in a hushed whisper.

Araminta had not given much attention to her dress and hair. She was home, after all, and they weren’t to have any company. She put on an old, comfortable woollen blue gown, and a warm grey shawl to protect herself against the chill that was often to be found in the passages of the house. She knew Harriet would not mind the dress, and so she could afford to be mindful only of her comfort.

Home was entirely unlike Town, where one always had to look one’s best. Thinking of town inevitably led Minta to contemplate the the one man she had been trying to push out of her thoughts. She could not seem to forget the strange bitterness she had glimpsed in his enigmatic eyes when he had abducted her in the park, so at odds with his usually blasé façade. This in turn led her to think of the abduction, and her heart rate sped up at the memory of his nearness and moment when she had been so sure he would kiss her. The whole episode had been so shocking, so inappropriate. The man was entirely wrong for her in every way: any liaison between them would surely bring nothing but disaster. And yet she felt undeniably drawn to him. She knew she ought to feel nothing but anger and outrage, and yet she could not completely ignore the delicious shiver that went through her as she thought of how it had felt to be carried off by the handsome lord.