Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen)

by Vandagriff, G. G.

  Ruisdell said, “I will drive Fanny. We will bring her maid for decorum’s sake. You, Ned, are to stay here and rest before making the drive back. Elise must remain for Sophie’s care.”

  Thus, all was ordered. With the decision, Fanny felt an infusion of strength. She climbed the stairs to her room and directed Becky to pack all of the most becoming gowns she had not elected to take with her to London. Refusing to admit that Buck could still die, she told herself that now that they would be together, all would be well. Though she was disturbed that he was so ill, at least her questions were now answered. She could reclaim all her memories. Even if those memories might be all she ever had.

  The last thing she had to do was to say good-bye to Sophie. Kneeling at her bedside, she took her sister’s beautiful, long-fingered hands in hers.

  “I know I said I would not leave you, but it is Buck, my fiancé! I must go bully him into staying alive so he can marry me. By the time I return, I want you to be practicing the Beethoven, so I can hear it. And so Buck can see what a clever sister I have. Mind you, you are not to steal him from me. It has been more difficult than you can imagine to find such a perfect man.”

  “And so it follows that he must belong to you?” Sophie teased. Fanny was heartened at this evidence of her returning health.

  “We will find you another such, I promise!” Fanny kissed Sophie’s forehead. “Now try to mind Elise. I never do, but then, I’ve never made a death-defying recovery.”

  “It is good to see you so saucy, Fan.”

  “I would not leave you for any other reason I can possibly think of. Elise will tell you her version of my story, but just remember, she does not know all of the best bits.”

  * * *

  As soon as the coach was underway, Fanny reclined on the velvet squabs of the bench, said goodnight to her brother-in-law (though it was still morning), and slept around the clock. When she woke the following morning, she prayed that Buck was still alive, that they would not be too late. She felt terribly guilty for not having realized something must be terribly wrong.

  { 33 }

  BUCK WAS BURNING. His ship must have been torched.

  “Abandon ship!” he croaked. “Abandon ship! We’re on fire!”

  Something cool was on his forehead. What was this? Where the devil was he? With all his remaining strength, he threw himself over the side of the bed.

  “Oh, Buck, darling. You are not on a ship. You are here with me, Rosalind. You are delirious with fever.”

  He heard the words, but they meant nothing. The pain in his belly would not go away. Strong hands towed him to shore and laid him on the beach. Exhausted, he let sleep come.

  * * *

  Someone was putting him back into the sea. He struggled and splashed. “Non, non! Lâchez-moi!”

  “Stop struggling, Buck. It’s Peter. We’re putting you in the bath to cool you off. You’ve got a fever. You’ve been shot.”

  Peter. I know a Peter. The sea was deuced cold.

  * * *

  Buck opened his eyes. He did not recognize his surroundings. But the room was dark, and he was weak as a day-old kitten. There was a woman sitting in the chair by his bed. With movements that bespoke great weariness, she dipped a cloth into water and bathed his head.

  “Oh, darling Buck, who will put up with me if you die?”

  Joy sprang up inside him, and memory flooded in. “Rosalind? Are you in a scrape?”

  “Buck? Buck? Are you awake?”

  “Where are we?”

  “At an inn in the New Forest. You were shot. No one thought you would pull through. Oh, darling Buck!”

  She began raining kisses all over his face. It was like a swarm of butterflies.

  { 34 }

  BUCK’S CONVALESCENCE WAS LONG, and Fanny felt guilty about keeping Caro away from her family in order to act as chaperone, but there was no question of moving him. He was still in pain.

  “It is a bona fide miracle that this man survived that shot,” the doctor said. “I don’t credit my skill, I credit his strength.”

  “And my nursing, of course,” added Fanny.

  “I am puzzled by one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why does the duchess call you Fanny and his lordship call you Rosalind? Is he still not quite right in the head?”

  Buck answered, “I’ve never been quite right in the head since I met the girl. To me, she is Rosalind, and always will be.”

  “Shakespeare,” Fanny tried to explain. “As You Like It.”

  Caro said, “The name on the marriage license will be Fanny Edwards, however.”

  “I have a special license in my coat,” Buck said. “Shall we have the vicar in? Then the poor duchess could go home, where I am sure she is missed.”

  Caro protested, “Fanny must be married from Ruisdell Palace with all the trimmings. You can hardly stand, Deal.”

  But Fanny was grinning. “We have never done anything in the way other people expected. I think it might be quite lovely to be married in this little room where such a miracle occurred. Would you mind standing as witness, Doctor?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  Buck grinned. “I’m feeling stronger by the minute, Rosalind, so don’t go thinking you’re going to have the upper hand in this union.”

  Fanny ignored him. “Caro, would you be my matron of honor?”

  “If you are sure this is what you want, my dear.”

  “I have given Elise enough headaches. I am sure she is still having to tend to Sophie. It will be a relief to present her with a fait accompli. You have no idea the trouble I have been to my poor sister.”

  “I am fully aware that my troubles are just beginning,” Buck said.

  “But what fun we will have!” Fanny said.

  * * *

  In the event, the doctor was able find a crutch for his lordship, so Buck was able to stand for his own wedding. The vicar was a young man who, if he found such a marriage strange, was not officious enough to say so.

  Fanny wore a gown of primrose muslin, and Buck, having sent for his valet, once he was conscious, and wearing Fanny’s favorite jacket of bottle green. They stood together in front of the small hearth, the duchess on one side, the doctor on the other.

  To her surprise, Buck had had a beautifully unusual ring made for her—a turquoise opal, set in a wide gold band. As he placed it on her finger, his eyes were adoring and she felt her knees begin to melt.

  Buck seemed to gather strength during the ceremony, for when it came time to kiss the bride, he handed his crutch to the doctor, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her with a hunger that stirred deep desires within her.

  At last! Her captain of the topiary garden was hers to love, honor, and cherish. And what meant even more was that she was his. Oh, he must recover quickly!

  { Epilogue }

  IT WAS ANOTHER TWO WEEKS after the wedding ceremony before Buck was strong enough to venture to Cornwall for their wedding breakfast at Beverley Hall. Elise, Sophie, Peter, and the children traveled south for the occasion.

  Fanny had a fetching new gown as a gift from Elise. It was ivory organdy over an ivory silk underslip and trimmed in sky blue ribbons. The same ribbons were also woven through her fashionable chignon. She had wanted to cut her hair, but Buck had put his foot down and insisted she keep it long. He had dreamt of those tresses for too long to be deprived of them now, he told her.

  “Rosalind, my love, you look like a bride today. I cannot wait to make you mine tonight. That beast of a doctor has finally given his permission,” he said. “Thank you for listening to me about your hair. I still remember when it tumbled out of Ganymede’s stocking hat. You do not know how many times I recreated that vision while on board my ship.”

  “Thank you, your lordship. This is one of those rare cases where I intend to keep my vows and obey.”

  He chuckled.

  “And may I say how pleased I am that you decided upon your green coat again. It was your eloq
uent green eyes that first captured my heart. You say far more with your eyes than you think.”

  “Is that so? Can you give me a particular instance?”

  “Whenever you tried to be stern with me, your eyes were gentle, sometimes twinkling, even.”

  “To you, I would appear to be an open book.”

  “Of course. I would not marry just anyone, you know. They could so easily tire of my starts. You must tell me if they ever become wearisome, and I will try to change, if I can. But to tell you the truth, I think I am incorrigible.”

  “An incorrigible delight. And I have a delight for you up my sleeve.”

  “What is that?”

  “After your performance this afternoon, we leave for Plymouth. As soon as may be, we sail away. We will start our travels in Italy, and from there go wherever you desire.”

  “Oh! Glorious! But are you certain you feel well enough?”

  “I am always my best at sea.”

  “I pity the captain of this vessel. Promise me you will not tell him how to go on.”

  “You must keep me in check, my love.”

  “Gladly. Anytime you look like making your way to the bridge, I will seduce you.”

  Buck chuckled and pulled her toward him for a kiss.

  “Ummm,” she said. “I want more.”

  “Minx.”

  * * *

  Fanny’s second dearest wish was granted her after all the toasts had been pronounced. She played Gabrielle on the stage the duchess had commissioned. Taking full advantage of the opportunity, she waxed even more dramatic than usual.

  After taking her bows on the outdoor stage, Fanny had to walk through the garden to return to the audience. A sheet of paper fluttered from the branch of the apple tree.

  Smiling, she took it down and read the epistle:

  Sweetest Rosalind:

  Take my life,

  You already hold my heart.

  Your loving Orlando

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  Other Books by G.G. Vandagriff

  HISTORICAL ROMANCES

  >The Duke’s Undoing

  Meet the Duke of Ruisdell, the unlikely hero of this traditional Regency Romance, after the manner of Georgette Heyer and Candice Hern.

  The duke has just returned wounded from the Napoleonic wars. He is weary, cynical, and very bored. Known as the worst rake in England, he finds he has no interest in upholding that distinction, when his friend, the Marquis of Somerset, proposes a bet: "Five thousand guineas says that seducing Miss Elise Edwards will cure your ennui." Because his friend has just lost a packet to him, he agrees that the bet be posted in White's famous Betting Book.

  The following day, while walking in Green Park, he spies a mysterious young woman, veiled, and obviously grieving. A disembodied voice, sounding strangely like that of his late adjutant, informs him, "The jig is up. That is the girl you are going to marry!" He scoffs, but is nevertheless intrigued by something about the slight figure. He even sketches her and asks if he can be of assistance to her. She declines his offer kindly.

  At the opera that evening, he is captivated by a beauty across the Opera Hall. He hears the same voice, saying the same thing. The marquis informs him that the woman in question is Miss Elise Edwards. When he meets her, he recognizes her voice as that of the woman in the park. Now she is surrounded by a surfeit of ex-fiance's, one of them dangerously unbalanced. Ruisdell discovers an actual bond between them which renders him honor bound to protect her.

  Thus begins a train of unstoppable events--dangerous, humorous, devilish, and amorous--that carry his life along at such a pace that the duke soon knows not whether he is on his head or his heels. And then there is that bet . . .

  Enjoy this delicious romance that will carry you back to the Regency period in English history, where manners were dictated by strict rules of fashion. It is the Jane Austen era, populated by gentlemen and ladies of leisure. These books are best enjoyed with a box of chocolates, and are guaranteed to enliven any boredom (ennui) that you may be experiencing!

  The Taming of Lady Kate

  Lady Kate Derramore and the Marquis of Northbrooke have one thing in common: In order to receive their inheritances, they must marry. Lady Kate, prevented from marrying the man she loves by her father’s will, determines to marry for convenience. With the forthrightness for which she is noted, she sets her sights on Jack—aforesaid Marquis. Jack, meanwhile, has tumbled into love with Kate at their first meeting. All might have gone swimmingly, were it not for his “other life,” the mysterious job that calls him out of town at the most inopportune moments. Unwittingly, he puts Lady Kate’s life in danger, and while attempting to rescue her comes up against her “reins-grabbing” nature. Will he ever be able to master Lady Kate? Will he ever be able to oust another man from her heart? And, despite Kate’s penchant for disaster, will he be able to save her life and his own?

  Miss Braithwaite’s Secret

  Miss Braithwaite’s Secret is the final novel in the traditional Regency Trilogy: “Three Rogues and Their Ladies.” The Deseret News claims “Vandagriff writes in a style reminiscent of Georgette Heyer. Like Heyer, she centers her novel on witty characters that readers will love.”

  In this novel, when Caroline Braithwaite, the Incomparable, leaves her first London Season early, the ton is left wondering why. Home in Wiltshire, she does not confide in her parents or her best friend. However, when the duke of Beverley appears at a house party to which they have both been invited, she is seriously discomposed. So is he. Fresh from a broken engagement, the last thing he wants is to partner a woman he had briefly courted in London – a woman he would have offered for before the fiancée came along. Caro fights her own attraction to the compelling duke. After all, he's already broken her heart once. She is not about to give him a second chance.

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  Lord Trowbridge’s Angel

  When the very bored and very handsome Viscount Trowbridge agrees to escort Miss Sophie Edwards to her first ball, his life is upended. Because a childhood injury left her unable to dance, Sophie is new to the ton and not terribly interested in it. But our heroine has a secret weapon: she has mastered the violin.

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  Sophie is nearly bowled over, but a native disinclination to trust proves a serious challenge, as does Frank’s former mistress. At times, Frank is his own worst enemy. As he wades through a sea of misunderstandings, will his “angel” have the insight to believe that he is a changed man? Will Sophie avail herself of her sisters’ help, lower the barriers of a lifetime to trust him, and allow herself to fall in love?

  HISTORICAL FICTION

  The Last Waltz - New Edition

  It is December of 1913 in Vienna and Amalia Faulhaber is surrounded by the whirlwind that is the life of a nineteen-year-old socialite. She is comfortable and confident in her wealth, her heritage, and most of all, in her engagement to the Prussian baron, Eberhard von Waldburg. All this comes crashing to a halt the day that her fiance informs her that their engagement is off since he is returning to Prussia to fight in what he is sure will be a glorious wa
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  Thus begins the tale of a heroine of extraordinary background and resource who develops into a woman who would be extraordinary in any age.

  The men in her life--a German officer in World War I, a patriotic Polish doctor, and an Austrian Baron, all shape her, but more remarkably she shapes them. Her utopian socialist uncle has raised her with ideas outside those of the upper classes, imparting to her a more complete picture of the day than possessed by the other men in her life. This quality causes her to champion the Austrian Democratic Experiment and to especially mourn its demise.

  The Last Waltz is full of little known history of a land that was, in 1913, the apex of the worlds of science, medicine, art, and music. The speed with which the five-hundred year old empire fell, and the reasons behind that failure carry many warnings for the world we live in today.

  WOMEN’S FICTION

  The Only Way to Paradise

  What causes picture-perfect suburban Oakwood residents, MacKenzie, Roxie, Sara, and Georgia to desert their therapist and fly off to Florence? Answer: A romantic Italian movie that prompts Roxie to ask: “If Italy is so healing and therapeutic what are we doing in Ohio?”

  Even Sara, the most duty-bound of the group, finally joins the pact they dub “The Crazy Ladies of Oakwood,” and only a week later, they find themselves in Florence. Embraced by the entire province of Tuscany, each woman becomes entangled in experiences she could never have foretold. Not only do they find the fascinating Italian men that Georgia promised, but new sides to themselves and each other.

  Against the glittering background of Florence, their dramas play out:

  MacKenzie returns to her student days as an art historian, discarding her identity as the controlling Oakwood charity patron and society hostess. Renewing her acquaintance with the David, she vows to let herself be sculpted rather than trying to sculpt others. MacKenzie finds not only a new talent, but a new man who appreciates it, just as her husband decides to re-enter her life.