The Second Lady Southvale (6 page)

Washington society was startled by the sudden betrothal announcement, for everyone had expected Rosalind to marry George Whitby, not an English lord who hadn’t been in America for more than a week. The war hawks in the capital were thoroughly disapproving, for a man like Philip was
anathema
to them at the moment, but most of the Carberrys’ friends and acquaintances soon came around to the match. There was, as Mr Carberry had predicted, a certain amount of unwelcome speculation as to the real reason for such haste, but in general it was accepted that the political situation was behind it. The romance and magic of love at first sight captured society’s imagination, and the wedding at the end of August was an event that was soon looked forward to with much anticipation. Elegant social occasions were always popular in Washington’s best circles, and the day that Rosalind Carberry became the second Lady Southvale promised to be a highlight of the year.

George continued to be gracious in defeat, for which Rosalind felt she was much in his debt. He could so easily have taken umbrage, but instead was magnanimous, taking great care to remain on friendly terms with the entire Carberry family. John remained obdurate about the match, although he was loyal enough in public, for Rosalind’s sake. Privately, however, he left her in no doubt that he still disliked the situation. Nothing would convince him that Philip really was over Celia
Beaufort, and because of this, he saw only distress ahead for Rosalind.

While preparations for the wedding got under way, the talks continued between Mr Foster and the American government, but there didn’t seem to be any hope of a settlement of the two countries’ great differences. America’s insistence upon trading with France was an unacceptable state of affairs for Britain, and Britain’s determined interference was an insuperable obstacle for America, who saw no reason why she should not trade with whichever foreign nation she chose.

The royal navy’s blockade of the eastern seaboard continued, and there were a number of skirmishes that incited a great deal of public indignation in America, but although the situation worsened, it didn’t topple over into the war that lay in waiting.

Rosalind tried not to think of the outbreak of armed conflict. She threw herself into the wedding preparations, assisting her mother to compile lists, decide upon the great feast that was to take place in the ballroom, and choose the flowers. Then there was the small matter of her wedding gown, a dazzling
confection
of diaphanous white silk, silver tissue, and tiny
embroidered
pearls that promised to make her one of the loveliest brides Washington had ever seen.

July gave way to August, and the weather became hotter and even more humid. The days slid by, and the wedding came closer and closer. It seemed that nothing was going to ruin all the carefully laid plans, but then, only three days before the ceremony, fate harshly intervened. Mr Foster’s talks with President Madison and Secretary of State Monroe suddenly yielded an important development, and the envoy immediately realized that it was of such significance that he could not make a decision without instructions from London. He had no choice but to ask Philip to return there at once, and at less than two hours’ notice.
HMS
Minerva
was waiting at Annapolis and would sail the moment Philip was on board.

There was barely time for Philip to ride to the mansion to tell
Rosalind what had happened, and as he dismounted at the door, he knew that what he had to tell her would break her heart.

She was just coming down the staircase, having seen him ride up the drive. She was in a carefree mood, looking fresh and dainty in a peach-and-white-checkered muslin gown, her hair tied lightly back with a wide brown ribbon. The glad smile died on her lips as she saw his serious expression.

‘Philip? What is it?’

He tossed his top hat and gloves on a table and then hurried to meet her at the foot of the staircase. ‘Are your parents in?’

‘No, they’re attending a reception at the White House. John’s out riding with some friends.’ She searched his face. ‘Something’s very wrong, isn’t it?’

He took her hands, his thumbs pressing her palms. ‘There isn’t an easy way to say this, Rosalind. I have to leave
immediately
for London.’

She stared numbly at him. ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘please let this be a bad dream….’

‘It’s no dream, my darling.
HMS
Minerva
is waiting at Annapolis and will sail the moment I’m aboard.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘A development in the talks. It may be something, and it may be nothing at all, but I have to go back for further instructions. It seems your government doesn’t wish to enter into a war with Britain, and is prepared to accept London’s promise to rescind certain orders.’

‘In only a few more days we’d have been married,’ she said, her voice catching.

Her distress moved him, and he put his hand lovingly to her pale cheek. ‘If I could change this and stay, believe me, I would.’

‘I know.’ Her tear-filled green eyes moved urgently to his face. ‘Let me come with you now.’

‘No, Rosalind, for that wouldn’t be right.’

‘Please, Philip.’

‘There are others to be considered in this, not just you and me.’

‘My family?’

‘Yes.’

‘If my family hadn’t insisted upon waiting, we’d have been married by now,’ she began accusingly, but then she lowered her eyes ashamedly. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘I know.’

She sought her handkerchief in her sleeve. ‘I can’t believe fate is being this cruel.’

He pulled her close, resting his head against her hair. The warm scent of roses enveloped him.

‘Philip, it may be more than a year before we see each other again.’

‘Not necessarily.’

She drew back, looking quickly at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We could still be married by Christmas, but in London, not Washington.’

‘London?’

He held her eyes urgently. ‘I can’t come back here, because I have to go to St Petersburg in January, but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t come to me in London. And your family, too, of course. They could stay for the wedding, see all the sights, enjoy my family’s hospitality, and then return here when they’re satisfied that you’re settled and happy.’

New hope lit her eyes. ‘Oh, Philip….’

‘A Christmas wedding at St George’s, Hanover Square. How does that sound?’

‘It sounds quite wonderful,’ she breathed.

‘I know your father has important business in Boston next month, and in New York for about two weeks at the beginning of October, but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t leave here shortly after that. The voyage to Falmouth usually takes about four weeks, which means you could be in London toward the end of November or the beginning of December.’ He cupped
her face in his hands. ‘Do you think your parents will agree?’

‘I’m sure I can persuade them.’

He smiled. ‘Yes, I’m sure you can, too. So you’ll come?’

‘For a Christmas wedding in London? Yes.’ It wasn’t the same as a Washington wedding in three days’ time, but it was
infinitely
better than a ceremony some indeterminate time in the future.

He brushed his lips over hers. ‘I’ll write to you the moment I arrive at the Black Horse.’

‘The Black Horse?’

‘The inn I always use in Falmouth. Its landlord is an old friend of mine, and so I make a point of staying there whenever my shipping interests require my personal attention. Celia stayed there too, except for that last time …’ He broke off. ‘Forgive me, for now isn’t the time to mention my first wife.’

‘It’s going to happen, though, isn’t it, so I must either get used to it or make myself wretched with jealousy.’

‘You must never be jealous of the past, my darling, for it doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is the future.’ He
hesitated
and then took the signet ring from his finger, pressing it into her hand. ‘It will be a few months more before you wear my wedding ring, but this is a token of my love.’

She began to protest. ‘I can’t possibly wear it, Philip, it’s a family heirloom….’

‘Please take it.’ He slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand, and then closed her hand, as if to prevent her from removing the ring again. ‘I love you with all my heart, and nothing is going to stop me making you my wife.’

The long-case clock in the drawing-room on the floor above them began to chime, the sound drifting gently to where they stood. He looked sadly into her eyes. ‘I have to go now.’

With a choked sob, she flung her arms around him again, and the tears she’d struggled to hold back for so long now had their way. She could barely speak. ‘I love you too, Philip,’ she
whispered
.

He kissed her for a last time. Her lips trembled beneath his, and he could taste the salt of her tears. For a long moment he couldn’t bring himself to leave her, but at last he untwined her arms, turning to snatch up his top hat and gloves and stride from the house.

She broke down in misery, and through her sobs she heard him riding swiftly away down the drive.

News of Lord Southvale’s sudden departure spread swiftly through Washington, and society was torn between
disappointment
at being denied the diversion of the wedding, and
tentative
hope that Philip’s mission to London might yield something politically beneficial.

There were times during the succeeding days and weeks when Rosalind didn’t think she’d be able to endure. She was utterly disconsolate without Philip, and although she did her best to put on a brave face during the days, her nights were spent weeping into her pillow.

Her parents hadn’t needed a great deal of persuading about the London wedding, and it was arranged that they’d sail for Falmouth on the
Baltimore Lady
, a packet that was due to sail at the beginning of the last week in October, when Rosalind’s father’s various business commitments would be over and done with.

John, however, decided not to join them in London. He couldn’t hide his relief that Philip had gone, and still made it clear that he thought the match very ill-advised. He couldn’t shake off his deep unease about Philip’s apparent sudden
turnabout
concerning his first marriage, for it was John’s unhappy experience that one didn’t love one person one day and another the next. His own grief over Elizabeth hadn’t faded at all, and thus Philip’s conduct was a mystery to him, a mystery that John felt would end up costing Rosalind very dear. Rosalind tried to understand her brother’s intransigence because she loved him so much, but there was inevitably a great deal of friction
between them, and it added to the general strain of her
situation
as she marked off the days in her calendar.

When four weeks had passed, she hoped that the
Minerva
had reached Falmouth, but she knew it was possible that the voyage had only taken three weeks, which had been known if the winds were particularly favorable. If the winds were adverse, however, then it could be up to five weeks before land was sighted. She wouldn’t know until she received the letter Philip had promised to send when he arrived at the Black Horse.

But Philip’s errand to London didn’t mean the marking of time politically, and incidents kept happening between American and British ships, some of them serious enough to bring renewed calls for war, no matter what. Philip had barely departed when news arrived in Washington of a particularly serious confrontation off the coast of Norfolk, when HMS
Tartarus
, while searching for deserters, had captured two American merchantmen. The
Tartarus
had then had the
audacity
to sail into Norfolk to restock, and it hadn’t been long before a very angry crowd had gathered. The British consul was justifiably alarmed and just managed in time to scribble a hasty message to the commander of the vessel, advising him to put to sea as quickly as possible, which advice the commander prudently took. American public opinion was incensed by the incident, and Rosalind could feel the tentacles of war reaching out again.

Those tentacles seemed almost to touch her when toward the middle of September, while her father was still away in Boston, another serious incident occurred, this time when a British frigate was said to have opened fire on a defenseless American schooner, sinking her with the loss of all on board. The British denied the incident, but a passing American merchantman claimed to have witnessed everything, and there was a bitter and resentful outcry against the old enemy.

It was just after the sinking of the schooner, while Rosalind’s
father was still away on business, that her mother fell down the steps to the rose garden and injured her leg very badly. It was immediately apparent that she wouldn’t be well enough in time to undertake the long journey to London, and Mr Carberry returned to Washington to tell Rosalind that the wedding would have to be postponed again, until her mother was better.  

Rosalind felt as if destiny was against her, for with Philip’s departure for St Petersburg in the new year, it again seemed that their marriage wouldn’t take place for a long time to come.

Mr Carberry went back to Boston to complete his business shortly afterward, and John went with him, deciding on the spur of the moment to use the opportunity to mend the
continuing
rift between them. Rosalind’s mother was confined to her room, and a seemingly endless stream of visitors came to see her, occupying her time so fully that Rosalind was left very much to her own devices.

It was then that two things happened: Philip’s promised letter arrived, and Rosalind heard about a canceled cabin on the Falmouth-bound packet
Corinth
, which was due to sail at the end of the first week in October. Philip’s letter was full of love, and full of longing for their reunion by Christmas. It spoke of fair winds across the Atlantic, and his desire to reach London as quickly as possible to inform his family of his new love. Rosalind wept anew when she received it, for she knew that her reply would contain only bad news.