Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen)

by Vandagriff, G. G.

  Dear Miss Edwards,

  I was puzzled by your remark yesterday when you claimed that I referred to Lord Deal as a misogynist. I reviewed all of our conversation, and can state positively that I never used such a coarse term with you.

  In fact, I distinctly recall that the only time I have used that term in connection with my friend, I was in company with his mistress, who was known to me as Rosalind. She was heavily veiled but, upon reflection, I believe her to have been you.

  My thoughts are disarranged, as I hope you can imagine. I cannot but think that you are playing a dangerous game. Do you imagine you can draw another man into your trap in the guise of a proper young lady, since Deal cannot be brought up to scratch? If I could discover you, others will, too. Deal is also not above giving you away if he wishes to cause mischief!

  W.

  Panic-stricken, Fanny looked up at the duke, who was consuming a sirloin.

  “Peter! Can you tell me where your friend Lord Deal has his rooms?”

  “You are not going there!”

  “No, it is not that. I find I have an urgent communication I must send him.”

  Ruisdell raised an eyebrow. “Concerning what, pray?”

  Drat the man! He must tell her or what was she to do? She could feel the minutes slipping away. Minutes in which Westringham would be at White’s telling his tale to all and sundry. “It is confidential. Please tell me! It is of the most urgent importance!”

  “Fanny, you are nigh hysterical.” He rang for a footman. “Will you order strong tea for Miss Edwards and then fetch the duchess, Phillips?”

  Fanny sat, her head down as though she could not bear to look at Peter. As tears started, she shredded her handkerchief. When her sister arrived, she sat down beside her. “What is this, Fan?”

  “She has asked for Deal’s address in order to make what seems to be a desperate communication of some sort.”

  “Fanny! You must tell us what is amiss so that we may help you,” Elise insisted.

  Hanging her head, Fanny began her story. “It has to do with my drive to Richmond.”

  The duke swore. Elise hushed him. “Go on, Fan. What happened?”

  “The captain’s leader had thrown a shoe, so we were obliged to stop at an inn where it could be reshod. We ran into a bit of bad luck.”

  “Someone recognized you!” The duke fairly exploded. Fanny witnessed Elise calming him with a hand on his arm.

  “No. It was Westringham and I had never met him before. Lord Deal introduced me as Rosalind and informed me that this man was his first lieutenant.”

  “And of course he thought that you were Deal’s doxy!” the duke exploded.

  His rage made her suddenly ill. Her hands shook as she forced herself to her feet. Dizziness assailed her. She had to get out of the room. Tossing Westringham’s communication across the table to her brother-in-law, she fled.

  After climbing the stairs to her room, she threw herself on her bed and willed her heart to stop pounding and her breathing to slow. Peter is not going to strike you, you silly chit. His anger is justified, not a random flare-up over nothing. But what am I to do? I am ruined!

  There was only one thing to do.When her heart slowed at last, she called for her maid.

  “Becky, have one of the footmen bring down my portmanteaux from the attic.”

  “We are traveling, miss?”

  “Yes. Back to Derbyshire.”

  As Becky left, Elise entered. “Fan, dearest. The duke sends his apologies. He never meant to roar at you like that. He is furious with Deal. I explained to him about mother’s rages. He would have come himself to apologize, but he did not want you to be further upset by his presence.” She sat on the bed next to Fanny and took her hand. “The letter rounded out your story. You must be thoroughly wretched, dearest.”

  “I am off to Derbyshire,” Fanny told her. “I do nothing but upset Peter, and I cannot endure his rages. They make me ill.”

  “I understand. But let us see if we can get this affair hushed up first.”

  “I do not see how that is to be done.”

  “Will you let the duke come in for a moment? I promise you, his anger is not with you. You have a right to know what he is going to do.”

  Fanny nodded. Elise left her and returned shortly with her husband.

  “My apologies, Fanny. I should have kept my temper in better order. I shall see Deal directly. The fault is just as much his for introducing his friend to you in that guise and going along with your ruse. I warned him what could come of this. I thought he had more sense. He shall offer for you, or I will call him out!”

  Panic drove away Fanny’s tears. She flew to him, crying in earnest. Gripping his sleeve, she said, “He should dislike that excessively, and that would make me miserable! Please. Perhaps if only he would explain matters to Viscount Westringham, all would be well. Once he knows I am not trying to deceive the ton, I think he will be silent.”

  “I will endeavor to bring this about. If I am to do so, I must act immediately. Think what you will, I am dashed fond of you, Fanny. I will spare you any further strictures. I am certain you have learned a valuable lesson here. At least it is not Warmsby we are dealing with.”

  Elise squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “I like Lord Deal, but he appears to have impaired judgment where you are concerned. You are like two children.”

  Fanny sat down once more and put her head in her hands. “I do not want him to be forced to marry me. That would ruin everything!”

  The duke left the room, but Elise sat down next to Fanny and put her arm around her.

  At her sister’s gentle touch, Fanny finally lost all ability to contain her misery. Sobbing, she threw herself into Elise’s arms. “He does not yet have those feelings for me that a man should have for a wife. We are merely friends!” She looked into her sister’s face. “Do you not see? By forcing him to marry me, you will insure that he will resent me and see me as a burden. He would never grow to love me.”

  “Once again, Fan, do you love him?” Elise asked.

  “I do not know. I have been wondering if I might. I certainly prefer him to anyone else I have ever met.”

  “Remember when we talked of trust? I cannot perfectly see how you can trust him when he let you in for this bumblebroth.”

  Fanny bristled at the criticism of her captain. In that moment she knew that their mutual dislike of society had formed a bond between the two of them. No matter what had become of that trip to Richmond, she could only regret the outcome, not the event itself. She mopped her tears, and raised her head. “It was a bit of fun, Elise. We laughed heartily over it. He hates the restrictions of society as much as I do.”

  “He is a man, and can therefore get away with almost anything. Your reputation is fragile. It does not seem he fully realizes that.”

  “It is not his fault. He has not spent much time among the ton. He is used to commanding a ship and being a law unto himself. The man is constantly appalled at the limits the ton imposes on women.”

  Elise patted Fanny’s arm. “Peter will see what is to be done for the best. I trust him and, at this point, I think you must, as well.”

  Fanny could only hope that whatever restitution the duke demanded of her friend, it would not be an unwanted marriage.

  { 9 }

  THE MARQUIS OF DEAL HAD JUST RISEN from breakfast when his manservant informed him that he had an early caller.

  “The Duke of Ruisdell, my lord.”

  “What the devil?” Buck strode out of his small dining room to meet the duke in the sitting room at the front of the house. The man was standing with his back to the entrance, hands gripped behind him, staring out into the street.

  “Ruisdell?”

  His guest spun around. The look on his face was severe.

  “Buck, you have landed your Rosalind in the soup.”

  Alarmed, he stopped his progress toward the duke and dropped his hand of greeting. “What?”

  “Is it true that w
hen you took Fanny to Richmond in your phaeton, you introduced her to your first officer as your mistress?”

  “She was wearing a thick veil! He could not see her face. And I know it sounds deuced ungentlemanly, but it was Westringham who assumed she was my mistress.”

  “And you did not correct him?”

  “No. Rosalind took him right up and proceeded to make the whole situation into a farce. What has happened?”

  “He caught her out. Westringham thinks she is a jade trying to force herself onto polite society to find a husband since you won’t come up to scratch.”

  “The devil! That doesn’t sound like Clark.”

  “I believe he was in love with her. I imagine his pride is involved.”

  Buck pounded a fist into his left hand, and then ran both hands through his hair. “Demmed idiot! He should have come to me!”

  “Instead, he sent her a note. We do not know how many people he may have confided in.”

  “Rosalind must be beside herself.” He swore a lengthy sailor’s curse, as he started for the door. “I shall go round to see him immediately. He will listen to me. He’s used to taking my orders.”

  Ruisdell grabbed his arm and looked at him, his face hard. “If he has told even one other person, you are bound in honor to offer for Fanny.”

  Oddly, this eventuality had not even occurred to Buck. He balled his hands into fists as panic gripped him.

  “Westringham must be stopped. I will see to it immediately. Obviously, I am greatly disturbed by this, but I will do whatever is required.” He started out of the room again, but then remembered his manners. “If you will excuse me, Peter, I shall be off immediately.”

  * * *

  His friend was not at home. Westringham's manservant volunteered the information that he had gone to Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon.

  On his way to the sporting establishment, Buck reflected that his friend was probably attempting to rid himself of his anger and frustration at Rosalind’s supposed perfidy. He should never have taken her up with him in the phaeton. And having done so, what had possessed him to introduce her to his wife-seeking friend?

  Now, if he couldn’t stop his lieutenant from talking about the incident, he would be the one with the wife. He held her in deep affection, it was true. She amused him. She even interested him and attracted him. But he was nearly certain that the state of marriage would grow static and obliterate those incipient feelings. Life as a sailor had accustomed him to constant change. He certainly was not ready to abandon his bachelor ways.

  And he had seriously displeased his oldest friend. He did not blame Ruisdell for being angry. Buck had acted like a veritable bird-wit, not a former captain in the Royal Navy.

  When he at last laid eyes on the former lieutenant, his friend was punishing himself by boxing with the Gentleman himself. Sweat poured over his back and chest. His face was red and already bruised. Buck stood by and waited for him to finish.

  When Westringham at last walked out of the ring, he noticed Buck and threw him a venomous look.

  “See here,” Buck said, “you must spare me a minute, Clark. You’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick about Rosalind.”

  The viscount said nothing, but walked into the changing room. Deal followed him, narrating the story of his outing with Rosalind from beginning to end.

  “I still say she’s nothing but a jade, conspiring to take me in like that. What sort of young lady would do that? A demmed loose one, that’s who.”

  “But she is not, has not been, and never will be my mistress or even my occasional lightskirt. She is virtuous, and if you dare to speak otherwise, I shall have to call you out.”

  Westringham whirled on him. “The duke ring a peal over you? Insisting you marry the chit?”

  “Clark, just tell me. Have you said aught to anyone on this matter?”

  “No.” The man sluiced himself with a bucket of water.

  “Do I have your word that you will engage to keep this incident to yourself?”

  He sluiced himself again. “Granted,” he said finally.

  Buck offered his hand, but his old friend refused to take it. Westringham turned away and went to don his clothing.

  “Thank you, Westringham,” Buck said stiffly and left the saloon.

  His next call was at White’s, where he found the duke and reported his success. “I’m afraid I’ve lost a good friend over this. I hope I haven’t lost your regard, as well.”

  “Fanny is a maddening, unmanageable child, and together you make a disastrous pair. I suggest you make your pact with Westringham known to her and then stay as far from her as possible, if you do value our friendship.”

  So it was that midday found him knocking on the door of Shearings. When he entered the small drawing room, Rosalind was seated next to her sister, diligently embroidering a piece of linen. She looked up when the butler announced him, and he could see that she had been crying. The ordeal had shaken her even more than he had thought. The idea of his Rosalind in tears caused a rush of emotion in his breast that he was afraid to name.

  “It is not necessary for you to marry me,” she said before he could get a word out. “I am going to leave London and go back to Ruisdell Palace. I will be nanny to my niece and nephew as long as Elise needs me.”

  Despite his promise to Ruisdell Buck was saddened to hear of her departure. His voice when he spoke was gentle. “You need not do anything so drastic. I have explained the episode in its entirety to Westringham and, while he still bears us a grudge, he has agreed to say nothing about the incident. He is an honorable man, and has given me his word.”

  Rosalind set down her embroidery and looked at him, eyes round. “He had not yet put it about?”

  “I caught him in time.”

  “Thank heavens!”

  “Yes. I agree. Now I believe we should dispense with any future starts, no matter how tempting, unless we want to find ourselves leg-shackled.”

  The girl looked up at him, her eyes cloudy with sadness. “Must we?”

  “We must. How can you doubt it?”

  With eyebrows raised, Elise said briskly, “Really, Fan, you have just had the narrowest escape from complete ruin!”

  Buck was deeply sorry for Rosalind. She clearly found society as tyrannical as he did. But the duke was right. It would be disastrous to carry their unholy partnership forward, much as he would miss it.

  Thinking of his promise to her about the coming production of As You Like It as well as his promise to Ruisdell to stay away from her, he said, “I believe I will leave for my estate for a bit. I will take Westringham down with me, as well as some of my former seamen who need jobs. I will carry them down to Kent and set them to work repairing the main house. I am anxious for it to be finished. I have no wish to live in London longer than necessary.”

  “So it is good-bye then?” his Rosalind asked, standing and walking to where he stood.

  “Yes, I am afraid it is.”

  She offered her hand. “Good-bye, my lord.” Her lovely eyes glistened with more tears.

  He brushed his lips over her knuckles. An imp prompted him to say, “I shall write.”

  { 10 }

  AS FANNY WATCHED DEAL RIDE AWAY on his horse, a dark cloud of melancholy settled on her. She was going to miss their unconventional twosome. Obviously, she had not managed to make him fall in love with her. But she could not but be grateful to him for smoothing the road with Westringham. What a disaster that could have been! It would have reflected terribly on her sister and the duke, and even her niece and nephew. A scandal of that sort would not be forgotten soon. Obviously, she must give up her dream of performing on the London stage.

  She went slowly up the stairs to the sitting room that Elise had decorated especially for her, with its lime and cream striped wallpaper and upholstery. At her desk, she took up her quill, hoping that she could express her thoughts to Sophie and make some sense of them.

  Dearest Sister,

  I have na
rrowly escaped ruin. I will not bore you with details, except to say that I should have behaved better. I owe Elise and Peter so much. Had they not taken me into their home, I would still be living that intolerable life in Shropshire. My heart is so heavy. Even my imagination has ceased functioning. There is no longer a role I can fall into. The future looks grim and gray. I certainly cannot face going to Lady Constance’s musicale this evening. All I want to do is to escape from thoughts of near ruin and my lack of prospects. . . .

  She put down the quill. The truth about herself was so bad that she could not confide it even to Sophie. Calling for Becky to help her out of her frock, she sat listlessly before her mirror.

  She had courted ruin purposely, thinking that she was different than everyone else and should not be expected to act the same. Who did she think she was?

  She had railed against the ton, but when she was on the brink of losing her reputation, she had seen only a bleak future before her. No matter how she wished things were different, the truth was that obedience to the principles of behavior laid down by the ton was for her own protection as a woman. A woman who lost her virtue before her marriage was of no value at all and had no prospects for marriage among her social equals. Perhaps, after all, she was a hypocrite. She realized she could never achieve independence unless she were married well to a husband who understood her. Married women had far more freedom than she did as an aging debutante.

  Once she had disrobed, she crawled into bed, though it was the middle of the afternoon.

  “Be you sick, miss?” Becky inquired. “Would you like me to fetch anything for you? Tea? Chocolate? A cold compress for your head?”

  “No. Thank you, Becky. I just wish to sleep. Tell my sister I will not be down for dinner. Also that I will not be joining them this evening for the musicale.”

  Fanny descended almost at once into the black tunnel of sleep. She dreamed a sequence from As You Like It, where Orlando, in the personage of Lord Warmsby, was proclaiming his love. Repulsed by him, she was running away, hiding in the topiary garden at Ruisdell Palace. Elise was playing the part of Rosalind’s bosom bow, Celia, when Fanny was awakened by Celia/Elise shaking her shoulder.