Reunited with the Major

by Anne Herries

  ‘How dare you come into my own house and insult me? I demand that you leave it at once. I shall be instructing my own lawyers to look into this, sir. I dare say you see an opportunity to influence a young girl yourself.’

  ‘No, sir. I have merely taken steps to protect Miss Ross from things she does not like. I shall leave these matters to the lawyers to sort out. However, I have friends in influential circles, who will give this matter their attention if need be. If an attempt to force Miss Ross to return to you or to marry against her will is made, she will become a ward of court and anyone who breaks that order may be arrested. I hope it will not be necessary for such a dramatic step, but the lawyers will decide between them, I dare say.’

  ‘Damn you! Get out! I will not have you in my house, sir.’

  Roxbourgh’s complexion was dark purple and Brock thought he looked to be on the edge of a fit. He judged it was time to leave and give the gentleman time to think over what he’d been told. Taking the lawyer’s letter from his inner pocket, he placed it on a table and walked from the room. As he passed through the hall, he saw a lady in a puce gown staring at him in shock and guessed that this was the aunt who had coveted Rosemarie’s mother’s jewels.

  Well, he’d tried to be polite, but Roxbourgh’s blunt refusal to listen had forced him to speak plainly. Brock could only hope that Rosemarie had signed all the papers that gave him the authority to speak as he had.

  ‘Sir?’ He was about to walk out of the door when the lady in puce darted at him, clutching at his arm. ‘Rose Mary is all right, isn’t she? She—she isn’t dead? Please tell me she isn’t dead.’

  Turning, he saw real terror in her eyes and guessed that she’d feared her husband had somehow engineered her niece’s disappearance—perhaps even thought the girl might have been murdered. Brock reassured her swiftly.

  ‘Yes, ma’am, she is alive and well, being looked after by a friend. I imagine you may know why she ran away, Lady Roxbourgh? I do not know what part you played, but I should not want you to suffer grief for something that did not happen. Rosemarie ran away because she will not marry the man your husband has chosen and she thought that if she stayed her uncle would starve her until she could no longer resist.’

  ‘I know.’ Her eyes met his for a moment, a mixture of fear and regret reflected there. ‘I told them she would not. I begged them to let her choose for herself. Please, will you tell her I am sorry. I only meant to borrow the jewels, because they are so much finer than my own. The rest was not my fault, believe me.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it, ma’am. I shall pass the message on.’

  Brock inclined his head and went out as he saw Lord Roxbourgh enter the hall and cast a malicious eye at his wife. The sound of raised voices followed him as he reached his curricle and climbed up, telling his groom to let the horses go.

  Clearly Lady Roxbourgh had thought better of her part in this affair, perhaps because she feared her husband might have harmed her niece, but she was powerless to do anything to stop her husband taking whatever steps he intended to recover his niece.

  If Brock had doubted Rosemarie’s story, he did not now. She had been telling the truth concerning her uncle. Lord Roxbourgh was a selfish, overbearing man determined on having his way and forcing his niece into a marriage that would give him control of her estate. Brock must return to London swiftly and make certain that everything was in place for her protection for he was quite certain that her uncle would do his best to force her to return to his custody. The man wanted this estate and his partner in crime wanted both the girl and the mills her father had left to her.

  Alone, she would be vulnerable and at their mercy, but Brock would do everything he could to make certain she was not forced into a marriage that she did not like. It might mean that he could not take up a post as ambassador for a while, since he did not wish to leave the country while there was uncertainty regarding her affairs. It was inconvenient, but he could not desert her now. Once before he’d put his own pleasure first and that had led to a girl’s dishonour and ruined her life. This time he would not be found wanting whatever it cost.

  Brock leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, his mind busy as he considered what else might be needed to protect Miss Ross from her predatory uncle. It was awkward, for the girl had no relatives to take her in and that was a great shame, because had there been a person of consequence she might claim as family he or she could have applied to the courts to have Rosemarie’s uncle dismissed from his position as her guardian. Brock could do it, of course, and his lawyer would if it became necessary, but it would look as if he had an interest in the girl personally.

  Well, it could not be helped. He must do whatever he could to make sure that the girl was not forced into an unhappy marriage by her uncle, for it was evident that the rogue still hoped to gain control of her fortune despite what Brock had told him.

  When he reached London he would speak to Mr Rufford again and make certain that they had covered all the necessary precautions.

  * * *

  ‘Oh, how wicked my uncle is to lie to you, sir,’ Rosemarie cried when Brock told her of his brief but stormy interview with Lord Roxbourgh. ‘I left no letter for them and I did not agree to marry Sir Montague. I told them from the start that I should never agree. My aunt said that she feared what my uncle might do if I did not agree—and that it was my duty to obey since he stood in place of Papa. But he doesn’t, sir! Papa would never have tried to force me to marry a man I hate.’

  ‘I have told him that rather than marry Sir Montague or allow your uncle to force you to return home you would become a ward of the court. I do hope you signed all those papers, Rosemarie? For unless you have done so, your uncle could apply to make you a ward of court under his jurisdiction and then they might give him the right to force you to return home. If he were to claim that you were a wild, undisciplined girl who needed schooling, he might shut you in a house of correction for bad girls.’

  ‘Do not frighten the girl,’ Samantha said. ‘I would never allow him to snatch her from me, Brock. Now that you tell me how wicked he is, he shall not be allowed to come near her.’

  ‘I did sign them, sir,’ Rosemarie said and her voice trembled. Her face was very white, her eyes wide and scared. ‘Do you think he might do something like that to me? Surely even my uncle could not be so very cruel?’

  ‘Well, we shall do our very best to thwart him,’ Brock promised. ‘Providing all the papers have been signed I think you are safe as far as the law is concerned. Mr Rufford and Mr Stevens have the majority of the power now and your uncle can do nothing without their consent—that means the estate and the mills remain your property and all the accounts must be ready for inspection whenever requested. However, I believe Roxbourgh to have a violent temper and there is no telling what he might do—and I think he would not hesitate to go outside the law if he finds himself frustrated at every turn.’

  ‘Then what can we do to protect Rosemarie?’ Samantha asked anxiously. ‘Tell me, Brock. Should I take her away? Perhaps abroad? We could live quietly.’

  ‘I have considered that idea,’ Brock said, and shook his head. ‘I do not think it would serve, Samantha. You would have to keep her hidden for more than two years, and if he were to have her traced you would not have the protection of English law if you were in another country.

  ‘No, I believe it will be for the best if you stay here in London. We both have good friends, people of influence. If Rosemarie were to be snatched...’ He paused as he saw the girl pale. ‘I do not say he will try, but I fear it once he has tried the law and finds himself hampered on all sides—but if it should happen despite all our precautions, a hue and cry could be raised. Somehow we should find you, Rosemarie, and then Roxbourgh would find himself in grave trouble.’

  ‘I do not know what would have become of me if you had not rescued me that day on the road,’ Rosema
rie said, tears on her cheeks. She started forward and took Brock’s hands urgently. He saw that she was trembling and he pressed her hands to reassure her. ‘You will not let him shut me away, sir? You will not let him make me a prisoner?’

  ‘I promise you this, Rosemarie—if your uncle should manage to snatch you I will find you if it takes me to the ends of the earth and I will bring you back to Sam. Roxbourgh has not yet taken my measure, but he will be sorry if he chooses to cross swords with me. He shall not harm you while I have breath in my body.’

  Rosemarie kissed his hands, crying and thanking him until he gently took her by the shoulders and held her to his chest, soothing her.

  ‘Now, you must not be foolish, my dear child. This is not necessary. You are under our protection, but I wished you to know of the dangers of your situation, and to make sure all the necessary papers are in place for your own sake. Now dry your eyes and make yourself look pretty. I understand that you are going to a soirée this evening and I shall be happy to escort you both.’ He looked at Samantha as the girl left the room.

  ‘Do you really fear the uncle may try to snatch her away from me?’

  ‘He is an unpleasant man,’ Brock said with a frown. ‘Are you wishing me to the devil, my dear? Was I wrong to bring her to you? I did not think it would cause you much trouble, but now...’

  ‘No, no, of course you were not wrong to bring her here. She is a delight to me, Brock—but I could not bear it if something dreadful were to happen to her.’

  ‘I am sure it will not. I shall consult with my lawyers again and make certain all eventualities are covered—and there are other things I may be able to do to protect her. You may be certain that I shall make quite sure she is safe before I leave England.’

  ‘Is it your intention to go abroad soon?’

  ‘Not just yet, but I may be offered the post of ambassador somewhere—though it is not official yet and must not be made public.’

  ‘You will be married before you leave, of course. Miss Langton would wish to accompany you, I expect.’

  ‘As to that...’ Brock sighed. ‘At the moment I am uncertain of my future plans, though I cannot say more just yet. I wish that I could.’ He shook his head, forcing a smile. ‘I must leave you to dress for the evening and I must change. I shall come to escort you—at about seven?’

  ‘Yes, seven will be just right,’ Samantha said, and he thought her smile looked a little forced. ‘We shall both enjoy your company this evening.’

  * * *

  Samantha watched as the door closed behind Brock. When he was so close to her the beating of her heart was so loud that she thought he must hear, and she yearned to touch him, to feel his arms close about her in a passionate embrace, but that was so foolish! The feeling of loss swept over her. She was being silly, but it had distressed her to learn that he was thinking of leaving England soon, perhaps for years.

  What a fool she was! It could mean nothing to her, after all. Had he stayed, he would be wed to Miss Langton and Samantha would rarely have seen him, especially once Rosemarie’s affairs were settled. Yet to have met him in society occasionally might have been enough.

  Knowing that once he embarked on the life of an ambassador she might never see him again made Samantha’s heart ache. It was ridiculous, of course it was, but she felt as if a part of her life would be over and it made her realise how empty the years ahead must be for her.

  No, no, she was being foolish, and all because of one silly kiss that had meant nothing. Lifting her head, she pushed her foolish thoughts aside. Nothing had changed. Brock had always been beyond her reach.

  He would never look at her as a suitable wife, because he was too loyal and fine a man, and he must still think of her as his colonel’s lady. He’d kissed her that day to comfort her, and it was her fault that he had been carried to passion, because she’d clung to him. Any man would feel that way if a young woman pressed against him and offered herself.

  She’d behaved shamelessly and the memory stung her. Samantha did not deserve to be loved and she would never cease to feel guilt for having let her feelings run away with her just that once.

  It was all so long ago—just a foolish incident best forgotten. Brock would do whatever suited him and she would go on as she was with her friends and her pleasant life. Perhaps she would marry one of her suitors, and yet somehow she did not think she could settle for less than the kind of love that made her want to give her whole self.

  No, she would not let herself be so foolish—and she certainly must never let Brock guess that she had once been silly enough to think herself in love with him. Of course she was not, it had merely been a little irritation of the nerves.

  Now she must go up and make sure that Rosemarie was all right.

  * * *

  Samantha watched as Brock helped Rosemarie to select dainty little trifles from the lavish buffet spread out for the guests that evening. His manner was attentive and kind, though more avuncular than that of a lover. However, she could not help wondering why he was taking so much trouble over a girl he hardly knew. Of course, Rosemarie was a lovely girl and Brock was a true gentleman, and, having taken up her cause, would see it through—yet, to postpone the appointment of an important post for her sake? Surely that could not be the act of a gentleman doing his duty?

  She had a feeling that Brock’s feelings were engaged to a degree that involved his heart rather than just his head. He’d looked reluctant when she’d spoken of his marriage earlier and she’d seen the troubled expression in his eyes. Samantha felt instinctively that Brock had regretted his proposal of marriage and now she wondered if he were wishing himself free to marry Miss Ross.

  Rosemarie had made her own feelings concerning marriage quite clear, but the way she’d clung to Brock’s hands, kissing them and thanking him fervently for helping her, might make any man believe that she had warm feelings towards him. If he hoped that she might turn to him in a romantic way, he could be very hurt when she clung to the young officer she loved.

  Would it be better to warn him now? Samantha was torn between giving him a hint of Rosemarie’s true feelings about love and marriage and staying silent. She had no right to interfere in what was hardly her affair and he might resent it. Besides, if his feelings were engaged it was already too late. And how could she be sure that she was not acting from self-interest? It was ridiculous to feel jealous and she would not allow herself such a petty emotion. Yet it still hurt just a little to see the way the two laughed together, clearly enjoying each other’s company.

  Sighing, she selected a few small delicacies herself and followed Brock and Rosemarie to the table he had secured for them. Brock had asked for a bottle of champagne to be brought and the waiter was in the act of pouring it as they sat down.

  ‘Here’s to the future,’ Brock said with a smile as Rosemarie sipped her drink and laughed as the bubbles went up her nose. ‘Samantha tells me you are invited out every evening next week, as well as picnics, drives in the park and a balloon ascension. You will be exhausted at the end of a month, the pair of you!’

  ‘Oh, no, not at all,’ Rosemarie replied, her eyes sparkling as she pulled a face at him. ‘I have never had such fun in my life.’ Her eyes moved round the room and then she frowned. ‘Samantha, do you know the gentleman in the dark blue coat? He has been staring at me all evening on and off.’

  ‘Where?’ Samantha stared across the room and saw that the Earl of Sandeford was looking towards their table and his eyes were indeed on Rosemarie. Since he was in his seventies and a widower with only one grandson, his son having died some years previously, she thought his interest inappropriate. ‘Oh, I see him. Yes, he does appear to be looking at you, dearest. Just ignore him. He is far too old for you.’

  ‘Much too old,’ Brock said, and frowned, but the Earl had turned away. He was leaving the room. ‘There, he has gone, Rose
marie. I dare say he just thought you a beautiful girl, for you are very beautiful this evening.’

  Rosemarie shook her head. ‘It was very strange. I saw him start when he first saw me, almost as though he knew me—and then his expression became angry. I do not think he admired me, though why he should disapprove of me I do not know—unless he is a friend of my uncle.’

  ‘I have never heard any wrong of Sandeford,’ Samantha remarked thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you reminded him of someone?’

  ‘Yes, perhaps,’ Rosemarie agreed. ‘He might have known Papa or even Mama when she was my age.’

  ‘Yes.’ Samantha smiled at her. ‘He is past the age of wishing for a second wife and has a grandson to succeed him so I doubt there was anything to concern you in his interest, Rosemarie. Probably just as Brock says, he thought you rather lovely, which any man might—even one old enough to be your father.’

  ‘More like her grandfather,’ Brock said. ‘He must be more than seventy.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say,’ Samantha replied, her brow wrinkling as she tried to recall what Percy had once told her concerning that gentleman. ‘Percy knew the Earl, you know, said he was the most unforgiving man he’d ever met, but honourable to a fault. Still, I have never met the gentleman.’

  ‘Well, he has gone now so we may forget him,’ Brock said. ‘Now, I am arranging a party for the theatre and supper next week—please do tell me that you have one evening free?’

  ‘We are free on Tuesday,’ Rosemarie said, turning to him, her smile evident once more as she heard the teasing note in his voice. ‘We had planned to stay home and wash our hair, but I dare say we might forgo that and accompany you, if dearest Sam agrees?’