A Bluestocking for a Baron : Book 3: Rose: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet)

by Arietta Richmond

  Relief flooded through Rose.

  “That would be delightful. I will call my maid to accompany us.”

  It occurred to Rose, only then, that perhaps she should have asked her parents before agreeing to this, in front of everyone… but it was too late. As she stood, Thorne caught her eye, and raised an eyebrow. She gave him her sweetest, most innocent smile – she knew, immediately, that he desperately wanted to tease her, and that only his word of honour was holding him to the silence that Hyacinth’s challenge required.

  Soon, Millie arrived, carrying a shawl and a pelisse for Rose, and they went out into the crisp autumn afternoon. The conversation began with the contents of that book, but, somehow, moved onto more complex scientific matters, and Rose found herself, again, desperately wanting to tell Lord Wrenton about her correspondence, and the things that various researchers were working on. Could she trust him not to be scandalised? She thought so. But could she trust him not to reveal any of what he learned to anyone else? She was not sure.

  As she contemplated that, he cleared his throat, almost as if nervous, and spoke quietly, a new intensity to his tone. They had turned off the road, and stopped in a picturesque glade near a river. Now, as the horses dozed in the traces, they sat on a fallen log to speak. She studied his face closely.

  “Lady Rose… you may remember me saying, last time you were here, that I hoped to find a way to use the new methods to create a far smaller ice house?”

  “Yes – I think that is a most admirable aim.”

  “Well, I must ask you – and Millie…” he turned to look at the maid for a moment, and wide-eyed, she nodded, “for your utmost discretion with this, for it is, so far, known only to me, and the staff at Wrenton Hall.”

  “Of course, my Lord. I’ll just walk along the river here, shall I, so’s I can’t hear what you say to Lady Rose?”

  At his nod, Millie wandered off. Lord Wrenton waited until she was some distance away, then spoke again.

  “I am conducting an experiment. I have built a small addition onto the Hall, and I am trying to cool it, using the vacuum method.”

  “Oh, but that is wonderful! Is it working? Have you had success?”

  “A little, but it is challenging – the space that I can cool is, so far, tiny, and I am not sure how to expand it, for the larger I try to make it, the exponentially more difficult it becomes.”

  Rose considered again, and came to a decision. She was quite sure that the information contained in one of her most recent letters from Mr Stanford could help. She liked Lord Wrenton, very much, and he had just done her the honour of trusting her with his secret – she would trust him with hers.

  “My Lord… I must ask you to also keep what I am about to tell you in the strictest of confidence.”

  He looked startled, then nodded.

  “Of course.”

  “For some time, I have been corresponding – as simply ‘R Gardenbrook’ with three of the pre-eminent researchers in this field. I have implied, without ever saying so explicitly, that I am a young gentleman who rather idolises their work, and hopes to follow in their footsteps. They are flattered, and seem happy to tell me all manner of things, because I have only ever spoken of my interest in terms of pure research. The latest letter which I received from Mr Stanford,” Lord Wrenton have a small gasp at the name, “contains information which I believe is directly relevant to your current challenge. I am happy to provide you that information.”

  “Lady Rose, you are truly a remarkable woman! I will be forever indebted to you. I cannot imagine a circumstance in which Stanford would deign to tell me anything.”

  Rose laughed.

  “Perhaps you are not so willing to flatter as I am.”

  “Perhaps. Still…”

  “Let me tell you everything that I can remember, now, and I will reread it this evening, so that I can tell you more next time we meet.”

  Rose proceeded to do so, and the afternoon sped by as they spoke, oblivious to their surroundings, until the light began to fade. That fact brought them back to awareness, and Lord Wrenton apologised for keeping her out so long. Rose did not care – it had been, she was quite sure, the best afternoon of her life. On the drive back to Chester Park, they lapsed into a companionable and happy silence.

  <<<>>>

  “Are you certain that’s what they said?”

  “Yes sir, I listened real careful like. And me every bone aches from bein’ perched up in that damned tree for all them hours!”

  “Very well. Keep watching her, and tell me of any other conversations between them that you can manage to overhear.”

  The slightly scruffy man took the money pouch he was handed, and sketched a rather ungainly bow.

  “As you wish sir.”

  He turned, and left the room. For a long time, there was nothing but the scratching of a pen on paper. Only when everything he had been told was captured in his journal did Francis Farquhar leave his desk.

  He went to the sideboard, and poured himself a large brandy. All of these weeks of waiting had finally paid off, it seemed. Exactly how he might best turn this information to his benefit he did not know yet, but he would find a way. If Wrenton’s experiment could produce a commercially viable small ice house, which operated without the need for ice cut from rivers in winter… then it was worth a fortune.

  More patience was likely required – for why should he go to the expense of experimentation, if Wrenton could do it for him? But the end result… he needed to use that time, while he waited, to work out just exactly how he might cause Wrenton to hand over his results – and preferably his business too – at no cost to him. Mayhap he needed to ensure that Wrenton’s experiment appeared to fail, so that the man would be less worried about handing it over?

  Perhaps the delectable Lady Rose could be used for leverage. Whilst Farquhar disapproved intensely of her bluestocking ways, in this case, he had to appreciate the result that might come of them – and she was rather pleasant to look at – it was hardly a wonder that Wrenton seemed taken with her.

  He dropped into an armchair and sipped at his brandy, considering all of the ways that a woman might be used as leverage.

  <<<>>>

  Evan returned to Wrenton Hall with a great deal to think about. When he had hoped that Lady Rose had some source of knowledge unknown to him, he had never expected anything so significant.

  That she had convinced such luminaries as Stanford to correspond with her, and to reveal the details of their research, was remarkable indeed. And could make the difference between failure and success for his experiment. When she had revealed the source of her knowledge, and then gone on to outline the details for him so efficiently, he had been filled with the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her soundly.

  He had resisted. But part of him wished he hadn’t.

  Now, as he finished writing down everything that she had told him, and considered how to apply it, he was filled with excitement. His journal was filled, not just with notes of her words, but also with sketches of changes he would make to the design as a result, and a list of ideas for improving the food storage structures as well.

  He wanted to speak to her again, and soon, for just making these notes had raised a plethora of other questions in his mind. Not that he needed that, as an excuse to want to see her. He wanted to spend time with Lady Rose, no matter what they might discuss. His affection for her was growing, and he wished to pursue their acquaintance, to discover if she might hold him in some affection too.

  He reminded himself that he was a fool to hope, but hope he did. He would leave it a few days, and then visit Chester Park again. Perhaps he could use the excuse that she had offered to go back through her correspondence and see if she could find more detail. For, if he allowed that he sought her out for herself alone, then he really should approach her father, and obtain permission to court her. But… what if the Duke said no?

  Chapter Eight

  Rose had spent the few days
after her excursion with Lord Wrenton alternately daydreaming of him, with a happy smile on her face, much to the poorly disguised amusement of her siblings, and re-reading her correspondence with Mr Stanford, whilst taking notes of what further information she needed to pass on to Lord Wrenton. By the third day, she found herself hoping, rather desperately, that he would call again – for she could not call on him, after all!

  That afternoon, as she sat in her room, going through the last of the previous letters, her mind kept returning to the question which most plagued her. Did Lord Wrenton have any affection for her, as a person? Or was his interest purely in intellectual conversation, and access to knowledge which would assist his business?

  It had become apparent to her that she was beginning to care for him, to a quite alarming degree. Alarming because, should he not return that affection, she was not certain how she would manage to go on.

  She wrote the last words of her notes, folded the last letter, and tucked it back into the box in which she kept them, then rose from the escritoire and went to look out of the window. The gardens of Chester Park were beautiful, and the drive curved around in a big sweep before arriving at the front of the house. Trees lined it, and the scene was magnificent with the colours of the late autumn foliage.

  But, beyond the beauty before her, what brought a gasp to her lips was the carriage which she could see, even now, coming through that aisle of trees. It was, without a doubt, Lord Wrenton, driving his phaeton. She spun from the window, and rang for Millie – she needed to change into something far more attractive than the simple grey housedress she was wearing!

  It took her only a few minutes to do so, with Millie’s smiling assistance, and she was off down the stairs. She barely made it into the parlour, her notes tucked into the pockets of the gown she now wore, before Lord Wrenton was announced. Camellia gave her a conspiratorial smile, and Rose blushed – she suspected that her siblings would at least ask her questions later.

  The visit went much the same way as the previous one. They spoke for a short while in the parlour, he was everything that was polite to everyone present, and then he suggested that they drive out, which suggestion she happily agreed to.

  They drove to the same peaceful spot, and Millie again walked along the stream, leaving them to talk. It was idyllic, and Rose felt as if she was in a magical world, where gentlemen allowed that ladies had intelligence, and applauded it, and where she might spend endless hours with this fascinating man. He expressed delight at her extra notes, and she felt warm inside.

  But, by the end of the day, nothing had been said between them which might indicate that he cared for her, beyond their conversation. Rose smiled, and told herself to be patient.

  When, a few days later, much the same thing happened, she worried that she was, indeed, nursing false hopes. But could she be brave enough to declare her own feelings to him. She did not think so….

  As she bid him farewell that afternoon, her heart broke a little, yet she did not know what to do. The following day, the opportunity to do anything at all was taken from her, by her father’s declaration that they would be returning to London, leaving the next morning.

  <<<>>>

  Evan cursed himself for a coward. Multiple times now, he had spent long hours talking with her, and had been tempted, many times over, to declare himself – yet he had not. When he woke, two days after their last excursion, he knew that he had to make a far better effort – he would go to Chester Park that very day, and speak to the Duke.

  He rose, dressed, broke his fast, and called for his phaeton. Nervousness filled him, yet there was also an odd calm -the result of having made a decision. The world was beautiful around him as he drove, and, for once, he was not thinking of refrigeration at all, but only of Lady Rose – of her beauty, and her sparkling intelligence, and of every moment since he had first met her, when he had wanted to touch her, to kiss her, and more. He could not imagine that a more wonderful woman might exist.

  When he drew up outside Chester Park, a footman came to take the horses, and Evan jumped down, hurrying to the door. Ward opened it at his knock.

  “Good day Ward. Would it be possible to see His Grace of Elbury?”

  The butler blinked, surprised, then shook his head.

  “I regret, my Lord, that will not be possible. The Duke and his family departed early this morning, bound back to Elbury House in London.”

  The words slammed into Evan like a punch to the midsection. He was too late.

  “I… see. I believe that I will have to write to him, then. Thank you.”

  He turned and left, a gloom settling into his thoughts as he drove away. Hugh had said to him, rather cryptically, just a few days ago, that he thought Evan should ‘stop hesitating, and do the obvious thing, before the chance was gone’. Evan had determinedly pretended not to know what his brother had meant. Now, he wished that he had acted on those words, the very first time that they had been uttered.

  He spent the next weeks with a glum expression, immersing himself in his experiment, reminded, every time that he consulted the notes which Lady Rose had provided, of his own foolishness. Surely, in London, some man of higher rank would see the beauty in her, and court her – by his hesitation, he had almost certainly lost her. Hugh shook his head in disgust, but said nothing, for which Evan was deeply grateful. But there came a day, as the last leaves fell from the trees, when Evan could stand it no longer.

  He would go to London, and declare himself.

  He would also, whilst there, very quietly canvas a number of gentlemen he knew, about the possibility of them investing in his business. He would not reveal everything of his experiment, just hints, but he suspected that would be enough for some of them to wish to be involved. If Lady Rose and her father rejected him, then at least his trip to London would still achieve something. Business would not heal a broken heart, but it was some consolation.

  He went around to his ice houses, and left detailed instructions with each manager, then sat down with Hugh after dinner that night.

  “I’m going to go to London.”

  “About time. You’ve been moody and irritable ever since she left Chester Park.”

  “I… well, yes. But I’m not going just for that. I’m going to get us some more investors. I have the project to a point where I think it will work, but the further tests will be costly. So… if I am not well received… there will still be a benefit from this journey. Perhaps I am a fool to wish to protect my own pride… but still.”

  “I very much doubt that she’ll turn you away – from all that you’ve said, she is as besotted as you. And as bad at admitting it.”

  “But what if the Duke refuses me? After all, I am very much below her social station, and I am tarnished by my activities in trade.”

  “From what I’ve heard, the Duke of Elbury has some rather unusual views – and friends. I don’t think he’ll care.”

  “You can’t know that, though.”

  “No. But don’t imagine difficulty when you don’t know if it exists. Take yourself off to London, and see what comes of it. I can keep the business running easily enough while you’re away. Just be back before the lakes freeze.”

  Evan laughed. The lakes freezing was most likely six or eight weeks away, unless the winter came in hard, and early.

  “I’ll be back in time, I promise you. I want the experimental installation tested before then, for one thing.”

  “Good. Be off with you then – you’ll not be happy until you know your fate.”

  <<<>>>

  Rose had refused to answer her sisters’ questions, and they had left her be. She had attempted to cast off her blue-devilled mood by digging deeper into her research. She had even, very circumspectly, asked Mr Stanford if he planned to ever do larger scale experiments than he had to date, and what he thought might be required to do so.

  She knew that, perhaps, she was being utterly foolish – for even if Stanford provided information, how would she get i
t to Lord Wrenton? She might not ever see Lord Wrenton again. Yet still, she pursued her investigations. After all, if Stanford replied that the cost and the location were what held him back, rather than any more technical challenge, perhaps she could, indirectly, introduce the two men…

  But each letter, and each piece of research made her miss Lord Wrenton more.

  There was no one in London with whom she could have a conversation like those she’d had with him – and all other conversation paled by comparison. Her sisters, more often than not, spoke of fashion, or of politics, or of the lamentable marriages in which so many of their friends found themselves – but they cared nothing for scientific detail.

  As the year moved from Autumn towards Christmas, Rose found herself, for the first time in her life, not looking forward to Christmastide. She went to the scattering of Balls and soirees which were held, and smiled at everyone as expected, but found every man she met to be inane and dull – no matter how handsome, no matter how wealthy or well regarded, they were, quite simply, not Lord Wrenton.

  She had the dreadful suspicion that she had, somehow, come to rather more than simply care for him. He haunted her dreams, and distracted her thoughts during the day, yet she had no concept of how to do anything about it. So desperate was she becoming, that she considered beginning a secret correspondence with him, somehow….

  Now, as October became perilously close to being November, Rose sat in the parlour at Elbury House, consoling herself with Cook’s perfect iced cakes, and tea. No matter how bad things were, cakes and tea could always make her feel at least a little better. She closed her eyes, and savoured the cake, letting the sweet icing melt on her tongue.

  “Lord Wrenton!”

  Rose’s eyes snapped open, and she spluttered, almost choking on the cake. On the other side of the room, Thorne stifled laughter.