Rosalind

by Brianna York

  Rosy felt her fury recede somewhat as confusion entered the fray. “A daughter? Why must I bear a daughter and how will that help save this estate?”

  Rob drove a hand through his hair again, further mussing its former tidiness. “I had meant to tell you in a different way and at a different time, but I suppose now there is nothing for it.” He whirled around and leaned against the mantle for support. “A few months before our wedding I was informed by a solicitor that the entail on a large and valuable property that belonged to my father had been specifically entailed to ensure that it would be left to my sister and no one else. As such, the property cannot be managed or sold by myself but can only be handled by any future daughter I might produce. The mother of this legitimate daughter would be the proxy manager of the property until the child reached the age of majority. I need only sell that property to regain my fortune with blunt to spare, but I find that I cannot do so until I have a daughter.”

  Rosy’s quick mind processed this information and she felt an icy chill steal over her. “You only married me to produce a daughter,” she whispered. “You just need a female child and a woman who can pretend to manage the property entailed to her for you so that you might do with it as you wish.”

  Rob glanced at her sidelong, his eyes very bright with emotion. “That is not a flattering way of looking at the situation, but the facts are correct.”

  Rosy felt tears welling in her eyes. She knew that he had originally married her for practicality and that he had needed her dowry to help keep his family property together. She had naively believed that they had discussed the extent of his practical needs surrounding their marriage and that he cared about her enough that his strained finances would not sour their relationship. She saw now that he had not only withheld information from her, but he was proving that he did not wish for her to have any say in the management of the estate. He only needed her money and her womb. She was nothing else to him.

  She felt chilled to the bone as she looked at him through a veil of angry tears. She hated that she still loved him in this moment of rending pain and anguish. “Have you never thought that I might be unwilling to sell a valuable property that would ensure the happiness and independence of my future daughter?” She said in a stiff voice, her jaw clenched hard in order to keep her tears in check.

  Rob cocked his head to one side. “Any child that we have would have the best of everything,” he said matter-of-factly. “There would be no need to leave such a large responsibility to a young woman and her mother.”

  Rosy’s heart felt like lead in her chest. “You clearly understand nothing about being a woman,” she ground out. “So, I shall tell you this, Robert Kensington.” She tilted her chin up imperiously. “I shall do anything in my power to prevent the sale of that property. I should not wish my daughter to be forced into a loveless marriage simply because she foolishly believed herself to be in love.”

  Rob heard the note of pain in her voice for the first time. He regarded her across the small space that separated them. She was as beautiful in her chilly, queenly anger as she had been when they had fought in the park. He felt a bolt of pure lust for her that warred with his shame and frustration. “You are referring to our marriage, are you not?”

  Rosy drew herself up to her full height and stared at him with a gimlet gaze. Gone was the loving wife and partner that he had already grown so fond of. In her place was an icy, wrathful goddess fit to play the part of Amazonian warrior in a play. “What else should I feel about a relationship that was clearly founded entirely on lies?” she said harshly, her words frosty and devoid of all emotion. “Any man who loved me would not have treated me like a pawn in some elaborate game of chess. Any man who loved me would not seek to disinherit his future daughter to slake his desire for security without any effort.”

  “I did not lie to you!” Rob shouted at her, composure completely askew.

  Rosy scoffed at that, curling her beautiful lips into a small snarl. “Oh indeed!” she replied sharply. “Well then I must be quite a fool to have neglected to understand all of your aims until this moment.”

  “Damn it all!” Rob cursed, stalking to her and grabbing her upper arms in his hands. “I did not wish for you to feel I married you for convenience. I wanted you to be happy!”

  “You are hurting me!” Rosy cried, flinging herself away from him, distaste writ plainly across her features.

  Rob felt an ache growing his chest. He had not meant to catch a hold of her so roughly. He had only meant for her to understand. He took a step toward her, hand outstretched. “Rosy, let me explain,” he said more quietly, his anger cooling in the face of his shock at his own actions.

  She drew back again, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “No,” she spat at him. “Stay away from me. In fact, I believe that you should take yourself as far away from me as can be managed. Even if you do not care about the state of this property and its future, I find that I do care about what happens to it. After all, my dowry effectively purchased it, so it is rightfully my duty to care for it. I believe that you should go to town where you belong and leave me alone.”

  “Rosy,” Rob tried again, not reaching for her but seeking to make up for his hasty anger. “Let us discuss things so that I do not feel that you are making decisions without my consent. Let me understand what is going on and I might be able to help.”

  Rosy’s laugh was so harsh that it jangled against his nerves. “We shall discuss nothing more, Husband. You do not think me fit to make decisions for myself or my children. I do not agree. If you cannot see the value of my wisdom and folly of your ignorance then I wish you as far away from me as can be managed.”

  “You cannot throw me off of my own property!” Rob shouted at her, his anger returning with the abruptness of a sudden storm.

  “You would wish to stay where you are not wanted?” she shouted back, her blood feeling like ice in her veins. “Perhaps this is why your father did not wish to see you when you came to visit. He was as disappointed in you as I am.” She heard the echo of her own words in her mind and instantly wished to call them back. She felt tears welling in her eyes at the sudden anguish on Rob’s face. It was as if she had hit him with a physical blow. She opened her mouth to apologize for her cruelty, but Rob held up a hand to her.

  “Nay,” he whispered. “Say no more.” He bowed stiffly to her, his face pale and his mouth set in a harsh line of pain. “You may send my things to town at your leisure.” He turned on his heel and left the room. She heard him calling for his horse as he entered the foyer and the scuttle of feet as servants rushed to do his bidding.

  “Oh Lord,” she whispered, turning around and stumbling back to the writing desk. She felt dizzy and lightheaded with emotion and shock. Suddenly her stomach roiled and she poured the remainder of the tea in the tea pot into a cup before throwing up into it. Panting and drenched in sweat, she collapsed into the chair nearest to her. She leaned back and looked down at her small waist. She placed a hand over her abdomen and felt a curl of fear and sudden knowledge. “At least I shall not be alone for very long,” she whispered, feeling as though her palm now cradled her entire world.

  She heard the clatter of hooves on the drive as Rob galloped away and closed her eyes. She brought up her other hand to cradle the tiny spark of life within her. She felt the first stirrings of her strength returning and with it, her innate sense of practical hope. Rob might never be able to love her, but she knew that she could save this property and keep it safe. The beautiful expanse of country she was growing to love and the wisp of promise in her womb would be more than enough to fill up her life.

  “I shall prove him wrong,” she whispered aloud, not sure if she was speaking to herself, the fates or the tiny life growing inside of her. Maybe she was speaking to all of them. Firm in her new resolve, she rose to her feet and rang the bell for Charles. Time to get on with creating her new life.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dearest Cecily,

>   I am writing to invite you to Coulthurst to attend a small house party and the annual summertime fair that is being held on the estate in a fortnight. Do bring along the Viscount if he wishes to attend as well. Please send a reply at your convenience.

  Fondly,

  Lady Coulthurst

  Cecily scowled at the note and crumpled it into a ball. It has certainly taken Rosy long enough to invite her to a party. The summer was already half over and she had not been invited to a single gathering where she might meet eligible men. She pouted her full lips and crumpled the invitation again with savage frustration before tossing it onto her dressing table. She rose and paced around the pretty sun-drenched room she occupied at her cousin’s lavish country home. She had managed to convince Longford to allow her one more Season to attempt to find a husband. While she was grateful to have escaped the clutches of the tradesman’s son that Longford had encouraged her to marry, she had no prospects worthy of her attention.

  “Blast,” she muttered as she paced around the room. If only Rob were free to marry her. She had been so close to catching him before Rosy suddenly distracted him with her wealth. Suddenly, Cecily drew to a halt. A wild thought had occurred to her. She hurried over to the dressing table and carefully flattened the note again. She felt a grin stealing over her face. Maybe she did not have to give up on her dream of becoming a Countess after all.

  Still smiling widely, Cecily checked her reflection and then left her rooms to find her cousin. He had been invited as well and she would need someone to serve as an escort if she were to attend the party. She thought about her cousin’s penchant for dalliance with married women and grinned to herself. Perhaps all was not lost.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Sarah, I have brought the list of supplies with me if you would be so kind as to take a look at it,” Rosy called out as she entered the kitchen. Sarah glanced up from kneading bread and wiped a strand of hair back off her forehead. She left a streak of flour behind and Rosy grinned at seeing the other woman so clearly in her element. It had been a wonderful relief to discover that Sarah was an excellent cook and capable of highly creative dishes as well as simple, homey fare.

  “I shall look at it in a moment, mum,” Sarah said companionably to her employer as she finished working the soft dough in front of her and gestured to Mabel to come and place it in the oven. “I have one more loaf of bread to prepare for dinner if I may have a moment to knead the dough.”

  Rosy flapped a hand at this and sat down on a small wooden stool. She pressed a hand to her belly comfortably, pleased to know that her slight feeling of tiredness was nothing but the normal first stirrings of life within her. She smiled at the thought of the little spark of life who would be her company and her pride for the rest of its days. It felt good to not be alone anymore.

  “How many guests should we be expecting?” Mabel asked as she began to cut up vegetables. The smell of the bread being baked made Rosy’s stomach grumble and she giggled a bit at its intrusion into the conversation. Sarah smiled fondly at her mistress and pushed a slice of bread across the table to her.

  “Thank you,” Rosy said with pleasure, smelling the freshness of the slice of bread as she brought a small piece of it up to her lips. Her body seemed never to know when it was hungry or when it was not anymore. She had taken lately to coming down to the kitchen at all hours to satiate the hunger that woke her from her sleep. Mabel had noticed and had taken to leaving small offerings of food around the kitchen just in case they were needed at some odd time of day between meals.

  Apparently drawn by the smell of food, Horus launched himself into Rosy’s lap with a small mew of welcome. Rosy chuckled and swept him into the crook of her elbow to keep him away from her food. The small striped cat curled up in her arms but continued to meow occasionally as if he thought he were involved in the conversation.

  “We just fed the little thing a quarter of an hour ago,” Mabel said. “He would have you think we are starving him to death.”

  Rosy smiled down at the kitten and was rewarded by another conversational meow. “He just likes to be included in everything,” she said fondly. She took another bite of her bread and returned to the conversation that she had been having before the kitten joined her.

  “I think that Miss Beaumont, Lord Longford, the Countess of Pleasant and a few of our mutual friends should be attending the party,” Rosy mused. Alexandra and Forrest were away on holiday and Matthew and Tess had declined to come to her little gathering because of Tess’s delicate state. She thought about the invitation that she had sent to her husband and frowned. He had not replied and she did not expect him to come home for her party.

  Mabel nodded thoughtfully. “I shall open all of the guest rooms then,” she said decisively. “Much better to have room for more people than is needed.”

  Rosy smiled at the older woman. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I have found it hard to keep up with planning the village fair as well as the house party.”

  Sarah smiled at Rosy as she finished patting the last loaf of bread into shape and placed strategic cuts into the top of the loaf. “I should think that most women in your condition would not be planning two such events at the same time,” she said admiringly. “I think it would be normal to be tired even if one were not in your delicate condition, if you don’t mind me saying so, My Lady.”

  “Will his Lordship be coming home for the house party?” Mabel ventured quietly.

  Rosy’s expression grew sad at this. “I doubt it, Mabel,” she replied honestly. The older woman nodded sagely and held her tongue despite all the questions that she had about where Rob was and what had happened to cause him to leave so abruptly. She had rather hoped that he would come to his senses and turn right around after he got to town and come back home. This hope had been dashed when Rosy had packed his trunks herself and sent his clothes and belongings after him to London. It had been three weeks now and no word of any sort had come from him. All she was certain of was that the young woman that he had married was a competent and capable landowner and mistress of the house. Mabel was grateful to have such a firm hand at the reins of the estate after being forced to care for it herself for so many years.

  “My Lady?” the voice was Rachel’s. She entered the kitchen with a ledger book in her hand, her eyes on the narrow lines of print on the pages. Rosy had ordered the Bruxton family to remove themselves from the property a few days after Rob had left for town. She could not prove for certain that they had been taking rent money and not recording it in the ledgers each quarter, but her instincts said that they were. Once the Bruxton family was gone, Rosy had asked Rachel if she would mind helping with recording the daily expenses as well as budgeting for the coming year. The bright young woman had eagerly accepted the task and was proving herself to be very adept at her new job.

  Rosy swiveled on the stool toward the sound of her voice. “Yes?” she asked.

  “I have been looking at the ledgers from when His Lordship’s mother was running the house. It appears that the allotment for the village fair used to be quite large.” Rachel looked up at her mistress with a frown of worry marring her lovely young face.

  Rosy nodded. “I expected that would be the case.” She tapped her fingers on the wooden surface of the table for a moment as she thought. “Well, that was a long time ago and a more prosperous era. I think that we should cut that number in half and then spend on what seems to be most important.”

  Rachel’s expression smoothed out with relief and she quickly scribbled some notes on a loose sheet of foolscap she was holding inside the ledger. “That should give us enough to offer up a meal to the villagers and the tenants as well as paying for entertainment of some kind.”

  “Have you any idea if there are some local players who might come and perform Shakespeare or the like?” Rosy asked as she nibbled on some more of her slice of bread.

  The women exchanged a glance and then all shook their heads. “Sadly,” Rachel said, “I believe that we
are bit far afield of the usual traveling players’ routes.”

  “I do know of a group of Romany who are excellent trick riders. They can provide other entertainment as well,” Mabel volunteered.

  Rosy pondered that for a moment. The Romany had a reputation for cheating people of their money, for lewd dancing and other less than ideal behaviors. She had never personally seen any of their performances when they traveled by near her father’s estate but she had heard they were incredibly handy with a horse and could put on quite a show.

  “If you believe that they will refrain from gambling or fortune telling while they are inside of the village, I believe that should suit very well,” Rosy said finally. She was rewarded with a grin from Mabel and Sarah.

  “They have been coming through the area for years now each summer,” Sarah said. “I admit that I have been to see all their shows and have a few friends among them. I shall ask in the village if anyone has seen or heard from any of them this year as of yet. I imagine they should be near here any day now.”

  “Then that is resolved,” Rosy said with some relief. She placed her hand against her forehead. She had felt lightheaded for a moment.

  “Should you maybe go to bed for a while before dinner, Mum?” Sarah asked gently, her mouth pulled down in a frown of concern.

  Rosy sighed and rose carefully to her feet. She set Horus onto the kitchen floor and he scampered off to chase after some imagined prey. “I suppose that I shall do that.” She began to make her way out of the kitchen, then stopped and turned back. “Do not exert too much effort on my behalf, ladies. I shall not need much for dinner. Just some soup and bread.”

  Sarah smiled at her young mistress. “I had already guessed that you would be wanting soup, My Lady. I already have some simmering in the pot.”