A Vow for an Heiress

by Helen Dickson

* * *

  On arriving at Fountains Lodge, William was directed to the garden where he was told he would find Rosa.

  The sky was pale blue and cloudless with the gentlest of breezes, the garden filled with the scent of roses and laughter. He paused for a moment to watch Rosa and Dhanu throwing a ball to each other, Mishka seated in a rose arbour peeling an orange, happily watching her young charge at play. William’s heart swelled as he observed the happy scene and listened to Dhanu’s childish laughter, the leaves casting shadows on his happy face. He was clearly at home at Fountains Lodge, responding to all the fuss and attention with a startling vitality, which poured from him like heat from the sun. He watched him drop the ball and run into Rosa’s arms. She swung him round and round before putting him down. She ruffled his dark hair and stroked the curve of his cheek. The gesture was tender, which brought a constriction of emotion to William’s throat, making him hate himself more for what he was about to do.

  On seeing William, with a cry of delight, Dhanu ran to him. William swept him off his feet, laughed when Dhanu told him he was playing ball with Rosa, before setting him back on his feet.

  With an apron wrapped around her waist, Rosa was a beguiling picture of industrious femininity. When he was close she gazed up at him, a broad smile of welcome stretching her lips and her eyes shining bright.

  ‘Why, William. This is a pleasant surprise. We weren’t expecting you.’

  ‘No. We have to talk, Rosa.’ Placing a gentle hand on Dhanu’s shoulder, he looked at Mishka. ‘Would you take Dhanu in the house, Mishka.’

  Without a word Mishka got up and took Dhanu’s hand. William’s eyes followed them, smiling when Dhanu turned and cheerfully waved back at him. Watching him, William felt the dependency of Dhanu. It awoke in him a protectiveness for the boy that made his body ache. Not until they had disappeared into the house did he speak.

  ‘Dhanu seems happy.’

  ‘He is. He’s a happy, bright child, charged with energy and a playful devilment. I shall miss him when he has to return to India.’ She gazed up at him, seeing how his dark hair gleamed in the sunlight. She experienced a rush of feeling, a bittersweet joy. His being there sent a message of warmth. The morning breeze tugged at her chestnut curls, freed from their restricting pins and falling in loose tresses about her shoulders. With numerous tasks to attend to this day before her wedding, wearing a plain green gown with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a stained apron, Rosa was not looking her best. She regretted him seeing her in such attire, little realising that she made the simple clothes seem stylish and almost elegant. He had been there for just a few seconds, but Rosa had the distinct feeling that he had been watching her for much longer and she felt at a disadvantage.

  ‘And what brings you to Fountains Lodge, William?’

  ‘To see you. The maid told me you were in the garden.’

  His tone of voice made her look more closely at him. She detected some indefinable, underlying emotion in it as his eyes gleamed beneath the well-defined brows.

  ‘I am deeply honoured. But you see I am not in any proper state to receive you.’

  He smiled. ‘You could be wearing sackcloth and ashes for all I care. I assure you, Rosa, that apron is most provocative at this time of day.’

  Rosa was unaware that her hair, tumbling unfashionably about her shoulders, was a hundred different shades and dancing lights. ‘I didn’t expect to see you today. The wedding is tomorrow. You cannot be aware of the impropriety of such a visit or you would not have ventured to see me. I believe it is bad luck for the bride and groom to meet the day before the wedding.’

  Despite her words, Rosa was genuinely happy to see him. She felt herself being drawn into his gaze, into the vital, rugged aura that was so much a part of him. Being this close to him and the memory of their kiss, which was never far from her mind, was having a strange effect on her senses. She was too aware of him as a man, of his power, his strength.

  William was obliged to smile as he looked at her candid gaze, her face suddenly alight with expectation, yet trying hard to be patient as she waited for him to speak. He paused a moment before stating his business, hesitating to say the words which, in the presence of those clear eyes, seemed suddenly out of all proportion, monstrous and cruel.

  ‘I have come to see you on a matter of some importance.’

  Rosa saw a grave look lurking in his eyes. She felt his tension and a stirring of alarm began low in her chest. Something about him filled her with misgivings. He looked at her in silence. His tight-fitting riding coat emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the tan of his complexion. She felt a wave of desperation as she strove for control and to calm her mounting fears. For a moment she did not speak, she could only hold her breath in anticipation, hoping desperately it was not bad news.

  William banished her suspense by coming straight to the point. ‘There will be no wedding, Rosa,’ he said with controlled directness. ‘I am not going to marry you.’

  Confused, she stared at him, scarcely comprehending, too overwrought by what he had said to wonder about the sharp tug of loss she felt at the realisation he wasn’t going to marry her. A great wave of disappointment filled her heart. Her world tilted crazily and with her heart fluttering wildly, she said, ‘Oh, I see.’ What was this? Why was he saying this? Her mind was in such turmoil she didn’t know what to think any more. Everything seemed to spin around her and though her clarity was missing, a cold sensation on her flesh told her that there was certainty in what he said. It was like a slap in the face. For a moment she thought her legs might give way, but she didn’t give him that satisfaction. She raised her chin and steeled her spine. ‘And you won’t change your mind?’

  ‘No. I won’t do that,’ he said firmly, unprepared to refute it. ‘I’m sorry, Rosa.’ His tone was brusque.

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘I know how you must feel.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she was quick to retort, her fists tightly clenched as she struggled to contain her rioting emotions. ‘You couldn’t possibly know how I feel.’

  ‘I do know how insecure you must feel about your future.’

  She stared at him, her eyes, which had been soft and welcoming on first seeing him, hard. ‘Insecure?’ She could feel her heart beating in slow, heavy beats. ‘What do you mean? I am a very wealthy woman, so I shall never be insecure, and as for my future, that is entirely my own affair.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rosa—truly. Had things been different I would have been honoured to marry you.’

  ‘I’m sure you would,’ she responded sharply, her tone heavily laced with sarcasm. She could feel her resentment growing.

  ‘I need to explain,’ he said. ‘We need to talk about this.’

  When he was about to explain she held up her hand to silence him. ‘No, we don’t. Please don’t tell me. There’s no need—really.’

  ‘Yes there is,’ he countered quickly. ‘I want you to understand and I think you will. A messenger has arrived from India with news and letters from the Rajah—Dhanu’s father. I have also received the Rajah’s commendation for taking care of his son at a difficult time, which he felt called upon to make a handsome gesture of gratitude. Suddenly I find I have more than enough wealth to take care of the estate.’

  Surprised, Rosa stared at him. ‘Oh—I see. That is indeed generous of him. And Dhanu?’

  ‘The Rajah has asked that he be returned to India. Much has happened since I left,’ he told her, thinking of Tipu and feeling the pain of his death. ‘Be content when I tell you that it is safe for him to do so and the Rajah is eager to see his son.’

  ‘I see. Then there is nothing more to be said.’

  Bowing his head slightly, he stepped away from her. ‘As you wish.’

  ‘I do. How could you do something so utterly diabolical to me—on the eve of our wedding? Your timing could not be worse.’


  ‘It was not my intention to hurt you.’

  ‘Hurt?’ She stared at him. ‘I am not hurt, William. We have not known each other long enough for me to form any kind of feeling that would result in hurt. I am just thankful that it was to be a small affair and we don’t have to go to the trouble of informing anyone. What about the rector?’

  ‘I called on him before coming to see you.’

  Raising her brows, she nodded. ‘I see. You really have thought of everything. And Dhanu?’

  ‘He will have to return to Ashurst Park. I will send someone over later on to collect him and Mishka.’

  Anger seared up within Rosa, the anger of betrayal, an anger which gave her an inner strength to survive. Drawing herself up proudly, Rosa showed him that she too could be hard and cold. He would never know how much she was hurting. She also knew how unsettling it would be for Dhanu to leave.

  ‘Rosa, I am grateful to you for making it possible for me to retain the estate—you will never know how much. With the arrival of the messenger from India, in all moral decency I find I cannot act in any other way. I am relieved to be able to release you from entering into a marriage that threw up difficulties for both of us.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed tightly. ‘I’m relieved you’ve found another way to retain the estate.’

  William had accepted her offer and agreed to marry her, and now, on the eve of their wedding, he had jilted her. What shocked her was how willingly and suddenly he had given her up. It was hard to understand. After their shared embrace and the kiss when she had melted against him, she had wanted to believe he was beginning to feel something for her, which was clearly not the case. She did her best to hold on to the resentment she felt, to be dignified, while feeling terribly let down and hurt, despite what she had said to him a moment ago.

  ‘We both understood the nature of our relationship. It was an arrangement that suited us both.’

  Rosa’s chin came up. At least he didn’t utter words of sentiment he didn’t feel. ‘At the time.’ She moved her head in a slight, helpless gesture that was an acceptance of his rejection.

  Something in that small despairing movement hurt William with a savage pain that was entirely physical. ‘Yes. Things change. It is over.’

  Rosa could hear the absolute finality in his voice that told her it would be futile to argue—and she wouldn’t humiliate herself by doing so. Making a concerted effort to hide her regret and disappointment that Ashurst Park and its owner were both lost to her, she looked at this cool, dispassionate man standing before her. He seemed powerful, aloof and completely self-assured. Why did he adopt this remote, almost hostile attitude towards her? Her eyes met his proudly and her tone when she spoke to him, her very posture, was cool and aloof.

  ‘Then there is nothing more to be said.’

  ‘No, it appears not. Whatever happens, Rosa, I wish you well and I am sincerely grateful to you for making your offer.’ William looked down at her, aware of the futility of saying anything further. What was the point? The thing was done. Turning on his heel, as he walked away, he felt his heart move painfully in his chest, aching with some strange emotion in which regret and sorrow were mixed. She had made a strong impact on him and he told himself he was a fool to let her go.

  Of all the women who had passed through his life, he hadn’t wanted any of them the way he wanted Rosa Ingram. What was it about her? Her touch? Her smile that set his heart beating faster, like a callow youth in the first throes of love? Her innocence? Her sincerity? Whatever it was, she affected him deeply.

  He was a man who, when he had made a decision, seldom changed his mind. He had accepted what Rosa had offered in a logical and precise mode of thought, but all that had changed with the arrival of Ahmet.

  * * *

  Rosa’s face was a pale, emotionless mask as she watched him go. She felt totally incapable of moving as she stared at the sun-drenched garden. The day had taken on a strange, unreal quality and suddenly the heat had become oppressive. Her mind shied away from delving too deeply into the exact nature of her feelings for William. She had little faith in trying to judge her own emotions. But she had come to care for him, there was no use denying it. Suddenly her heart and mind felt empty, and she was chilled to the marrow, and even now, when she was desperate with the thought of everything falling apart, she had to ask herself why it should hurt so much and to question what was in her heart.

  In the tearing, agonising hurt that enfolded her, she was ashamed at how easy it had been for him to expose the proof of her vulnerability.

  The security that she had hoped for in the years to come was gone. Tears blinded her vision. Lowering her head, she moved towards the house, scolding herself for entertaining a misguided infatuation due only to her own youth, inexperience and ignorance of the world.

  It had all been a lovely, glittering dream, but now it was over and for the first time in her life she knew the real meaning of isolation. She had no choice but to try and survive. With Clarissa going back to the Caribbean and her grandmother dead, there was no one she could turn to now, only her aunt Clara.

  * * *

  Riding back to Ashurst Park, William was contrite and disgusted with himself. What he had done had been cold and callous and he wasn’t to know that what had just passed between them had been the most humiliating and humbling event of Rosa’s young life. She had looked so small, so vulnerable, he felt sickened with himself and his conscience wrenched. But at the last moment, when he had turned to leave, seeing how her head had lifted and she had squared her shoulders, he had felt admiration for her stubborn, unyielding refusal to cower before him.

  How well he had come to know her. He could still feel the fragile warmth of her body in his arms when he had kissed her, in his senses he could recall the delicate fragrance of her flesh, the taste of her on his lips, and see the luminous green eyes that had gazed into his with such soft, trusting candour. If things had been different, if she hadn’t sought him out and proposed marriage, offering her money like a carrot to a donkey, he would have married her. He had never known a woman like her. But his visitor from India had brought him the means to survive without her money. Everything had changed and, as far as he was concerned, it could only be for the better.

  * * *

  As soon as Clarissa saw Rosa’s dejection when she entered the house she knew something had gone badly wrong. Rosa’s unaffected warmth was absent and Clarissa noted that her current attitude of proud indifference was a façade to conceal a deep hurt.

  ‘What is it, Rosa? What did Lord Ashurst want?’

  When Rosa looked into her sister’s sympathetic eyes, she lowered her eyes to hide the shine of her tears. ‘There will be no wedding, Clarissa. Lord Ashurst has called it off.’

  With the ties of family and long-standing affection tightening around them, Clarissa sat down next to Rosa on the sofa. ‘But—I don’t understand. How could he do that on the eve before you were to wed? What has happened to make him change his mind?’

  ‘Apparently he has found another way to retain Ashurst Park so he no longer needs my money—or me.’

  ‘But—how?’

  ‘Dhanu’s father has made him a gift—a large one obviously—for taking care of his son.’

  ‘And Dhanu?’

  ‘He is to return to Ashurst Park. William is to send a carriage for him and Mishka so we must get him ready to leave.’

  ‘Oh, dear! He won’t want to leave but I suppose he had to at some time. What will you do now? You can’t stay here.’

  ‘I know. I wouldn’t want to anyway. I’ll go to London and stay with Aunt Clara for a while. Something will turn up.’

  * * *

  It was an emotional moment when the time came for Dhanu to leave. The child couldn’t understand why. It was with a heavy heart that Rosa watched the closed carriage drive away, removing one more person she had come to love from her life.


  Rosa and Clarissa along with Dilys, who was to remain with Rosa as her maid, left Fountains Lodge when the sun came up.

  Determined to face her future with dignity and courage, the closer they got to London Rosa’s resilient spirits began to stretch themselves once more. She began to feel human again and resolved not to think about William Barrington. What she needed was to rejuvenate herself. She had money—a lot of money. How well could a rich girl entertain herself in London? She smiled to herself. She would soon find out now she no longer had to think about marrying a stranger.

  But she was determined that now she had the opportunity she would put her wealth to good use. Taking care of Dhanu and the loving relationship that had developed between them made her wonder if she could help less fortunate children in some way. A new future was opening up to her. Even though she was still hurting over William’s rejection, she grudgingly had to thank him for this new direction her life had taken.

  * * *

  Aunt Clara and her husband Michael resided in Bloomsbury. Aunt Clara lived an enviable life. She was energetic and vital, always bright and cheerful, with a positive attitude to life. If there were things to be done, she wasn’t one to rest on her laurels. Her vivacity and enthusiasm were contagious. She was constantly busy with her charities and knew so many people and had connections to help her.

  Her husband, Michael Swinburn, was a successful businessman in the city. He was a pleasantly mannered, quiet man, with a direct and simple view of life, a man who adored his wife and lavished his attention on her, happy to go along with whatever she planned and to attend his club. They had travelled to Antigua for two extended visits over the years and Clarissa and Rosa had become extremely fond of Aunt Clara and Uncle Michael.

  Aunt Clara swept into the hall to welcome them. She was taller than Rosa, with a generous figure. Her resemblance to their mother was so strong that it made Rosa’s heart ache.