by Rosie Wynter
Could it be that growing up with this servant had lead Mr Farrell to harbour a certain regard for the girl? Perhaps the lines between servant and master had been blurred and a terrible mistake had been made in one moment of weakness. Certainly, if the woman was a long and trusted member of the household staff, it explained how he was able to conduct his affair without his father being aware of it. Rosalie tried to master her speculations, however. She had already privately criticised her aunt for following blindly with popular rumour and speculation regarding this gentleman. She could not let herself become drawn into inventing a past for the man, although it was hard not to do so when Mr Farrell offered so little of his background except for snippets here and there. Strangely, revelations such as he had just given made her feel both closer and more distant from him. It was as if he was permitting her to glance into his soul but through a fogged lens.
Before she had a chance to pursue more information regarding the woman in the portrait, Mr Farrell cut off the topic. “So, tell me, how did you enjoy your time in the park yesterday?”
To have the focus of the conversation turn so sharply to matters Rosalie had hoped could be kept secret came as a shock to her. If nothing else, it made her appreciate Mr Farrell’s wish for privacy regarding his past. Her eyes glanced down at her feet, and she tried to rush out an answer. “It was a very pleasant day. It was one of my aunt’s planned excursions to parade me before the single men of the city like a cut of meat at Smithfield.”
Mr Farrell frowned as he stepped away from her and took a seat. “I am surprised to hear that. You seemed quite happy on the Marquess of Oakham’s arm when I spied you.”
To have the tables turned and to be suddenly the focus of Mr Farrell’s inquisition was most uncomfortable for Rosalie. She followed him to a chair and took a seat opposite him. The single servant on the property silently brought in tea, which Mr Farrell took to pouring himself.
“It was more pleasant than I had anticipated, I will admit. Lord Wareham was very good in helping to extricate me from the group of young men who were plying me with information on their business ventures and family fortunes.” Rosalie hoped this admission would pass off her acquaintance with Lord Wareham as a trivial thing. For some reason, in Mr Farrell’s company, she was quite eager not to suggest her feelings for the Marquess to be any greater than those she might feel for any other new friend. Why was that?
Mr Farrell handed her a cup of tea and leaned back in his chair, his face contorted into a slight frown. “Lord Wareham is very much a man favoured by women. Some men have begrudgingly called it a singular gift that he has. If you have been fortunate enough to have garnered his interest, then I would say you are having a successful time in your search for a husband.” Despite the words seeming innocuous enough, Mr Farrell’s tone suggested a note of frustration, exactly what Rosalie had been seeking to avoid. However, there was also something else there she had noticed.
“You must be quite well acquainted with the man to have recognised him from the distance we stood from you.”
Nodding, before taking a sip of his tea, Mr Farrell replied, “Yes. I was lucky enough to be acquainted with the man before the birth of my daughter.” To his credit, Mr Farrell did not seem disparaging of the man himself. “Lord Wareham was a frequent caller at my home when I was busy setting up my business in the Americas. While there are many to who I am indebted for my thriving enterprise, Lord Wareham and his father, the Duke of Oakham, were instrumental in helping me make good connections with some prominent American families.”
“I had no idea. Lord Wareham never mentioned it.” Rosalie had never considered the two men might be acquainted. Really though, it should not have come as so great a surprise. London was a large city, but its upper echelons seemed tightly knit as a community. It stood to good reason that Mr Farrell should be aware of the Marquess and vice-versa.
“I do not see why he would choose to bring it up walking you around the park on a beautiful sunny day. Bringing me into the conversation at such a time would seem quite bizarre, to my mind at least.” He was trying to be humorous, but it didn’t really succeed in lightening the mood.
Rosalie let out a sigh. This conversation could not have been more awkward, and she wondered once again if she should have stayed home and not come out at all. At that moment, Abigail burst back into the room. Rosalie looked at the girl with a measure of relief. The irrepressible child brought the piano stool over to Rosalie’s side and at once began to show her sketches she had drawn and stories she had written. Mr Farrell’s face seemed to settle to a gentle smile again, and the awkwardness surrounding the discussion of Lord Wareham and of the mysterious portrait was momentarily dispelled. Rosalie focused her attention on the child, enjoying praising her creativity. She told the child about her youngest sister, Claire, and Abigail seemed thrilled to hear that she had traits in common with Rosalie’s family. She even asked if Rosalie would consider bringing her sisters up to London, so that she could meet them as well.
After a good hour of watching Rosalie entertaining his daughter, Mr Farrell stood from his chair. He had been watching them both quietly for a time, only speaking when his daughter asked him a specific question. Rosalie felt a little saddened to see him so standoffish, and she fully expected this to be her last visit to the family. He seemed quite uncomfortable with her presence in his home, and she did not wish to continue her acquaintance with him if her friendship was unlooked for. Even as she thought this, though, she did not like to think that Mr Farrell had so little regard for her.
“Perhaps you should clear your stories and drawings away. Go and do some more in the other room; I would like to talk to Miss Curtis for a little while, before she has to leave.” Mr Farrell ruffled his daughter’s hair as he pushed her back, hurrying her along.
“You will say goodbye before you leave, won’t you, Miss Curtis?”
“Of course I will,” Rosalie promised with a smile.
“And you will be sure to visit us again soon, so I can write more stories for you to read?” Abigail stood in the doorway swinging on the handle as she looked hopefully to Rosalie, her green eyes sparkling.
Mr Farrell laughed and shook his head. “Stop trying to manipulate our guest to make promises she may not be able to keep. Go on now.”
Abigail pouted and slipped out the room, forgetting to close the door behind her.
Left alone with Mr Farrell once again, Rosalie felt a sense of nervousness run through her at the prospect of returning to the earlier matter of Lord Wareham. Her eyes glanced uncertainly to Mr Farrell, a slight relief passing through her as she noticed the soft smile that remained on his face even after his daughter had left the room.
“I am sorry for sending Abigail away, but I have to return to the matters we were speaking of earlier.” He sighed and then bowed his head. “I am sorry if I seemed at all petulant when we talked of Lord Wareham. I will admit your kindness to me and my daughter, since your arrival in London, has been most welcome. It has been a long while since anyone has wished to associate themselves with me. It has been a source of new joy and hope for me, and I fear I am guilty of coveting your company. Lord Wareham, though perhaps being somewhat over-familiar with a host of women, is an honourable man. If you have found yourself enamoured of him, I should be happy for you both.” He took a deep breath and looked to Rosalie somewhat forlornly. “Essentially, I just wish to apologise if I was unreasonable with you before. It was wrong of me, and I hope it will not colour your overall opinion of me, Miss Curtis.”
Rosalie stood from her seat and drew up to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. She was not smiling; she could not quite manage to smile yet. “You are a good man, Mr Farrell. I do not blame you if you were insulted by my snubbing you in Saint James’s Park. It was wrong of me to try and avoid you. I cannot fully explain it, but it was not from any shame at being associated with you. It was...” She paused, trying to find her words. “It is a complicated thing.”
Mr Farre
ll nodded. “For what it is worth, I appreciate that knowing me, choosing to be even a friend to me, is a difficult thing. I very much appreciate the effort you are showing. It is honestly a gift above and beyond any kindness we might have given to you.” His eyes did not have the same intensity as Lord Wareham’s. His brown eyes were warmer, yet slightly sad. “I would say this one thing to you, Miss Curtis. As much as I enjoy your company and visits, do not throw away your chance of finding a suitable husband for yourself. I do not know what Lord Wareham would think if he knew you were visiting me here. Should I even ask if your aunt knows of your being here?”
Rosalie nodded. “I promised you I would make her aware of my intentions... Although I will admit I had to make several promises in order to secure the meeting. My aunt knows just how to manipulate situations to her own benefit.”
“Well, Lady Lynch is a most formidable woman.” Mr Farrell sighed. “You will always find a warm welcome here, but please do not feel obliged to continue visiting... I would caution you as well against making promises to Abigail. I am sure you mean to honour your word, whenever you say you will come back to visit her, but I do not wish to see her disappointed if one day you are unable to visit us anymore.”
Rosalie had a lump in her throat and nodded. “I understand, although I certainly hope to return here soon.”
CHAPTER 17
The next day, just as she was preparing for her excursion with Lord Wareham, it struck Rosalie that she must now be a true lady of London. That she had gone from one day to the next in the company of two separate men suggested to her that she was finally living the dream in search of which so many young women came to London. And yet, despite seemingly having gained the attention of both Lord Wareham and Mr Farrell, she found herself feeling guilty and confused, rather than elated and proud. If her mother were with her, Rosalie knew she would be told to put her qualms and worries behind her. Mrs Curtis would counsel that it was perfectly permissible for a young single lady to garner the admiration of multiple suitors. Indeed, at this early stage in her acquaintance with Lord Wareham, it was bordering on foolishness to believe that she was doing him an injury by having met with Mr Farrell the day before. She felt even further exonerated when she reflected that she had no official intentions towards Mr Farrell. Still, a feeling of uneasiness remained. She had a knot of guilt in her stomach, and it seemed to tighten every time she thought about the two men.
The planned meeting with the Marquess was to be entirely different to her stolen visit with Mr Farrell the previous day. Lady Lynch was most insistent that her niece put on her best face and dress for the occasion. As she put it, “Your walk with the Marquess will be noted by many. He is a highly recognisable man, on account of his handsome features. Moreover, he is desired by all the women in the city, not to mention a few fathers who look to make him their son-in-law one day. By walking out with Lord Wareham, publicly, on the streets, you are making a declaration of intent, and it will be important for you to walk proud, tall and beautiful.”
Rosalie had frowned at this. “Just who am I making this spectacle for? I thought the very reason for my being in London over the summer was that there was no competition to be had from the other ladies. For whom, then, am I peacocking, aside from Lord Wareham himself, of course?”
Lady Lynch laughed and shook her head. It was the kind of derogatory laugh the woman always gave whenever Rosalie said something that might be considered foolish or quaint. “My dear child, I am not dressing you up to compete with other women. I am doing it so that you may gain the attention of even more men. Young gentlemen of business will be looking as you step out together, and it is more than likely that a few will be interested to know the name of the comely girl who has caught Lord Wareham’s interest.”
“So, instead of hoping I might capture Lord Wareham’s heart, you intend to simply widen the net of interested parties for me, by means of this walk?”
Lady Lynch’s smile disappeared from her face, the humour she found in her niece’s confusion suddenly gone. “You know, that is a somewhat hurtful thing to say to me after living so long under my roof. I am given to wonder if you believe I have a heart at all. I had thought it obvious that I would wish to see you united and happy with the Marquess. All I am seeking to do here is to proceed with a little caution. You know the man to be a charmer with the ladies, and his title and fortune mean that he can have almost any woman he chooses. With that in mind, I am only looking to create opportunities for you should Lord Wareham’s regard for you turn out to be less than we would have hoped. Are such precautions really a crime?”
Rosalie shook her head. There was no use in arguing with her aunt, and it was clear that, in her own way, Lady Lynch felt she was helping. Even so, Rosalie was not best pleased, and she only gave in to her aunt’s wishes in order to satisfy her own desire to look as fine as possible for Lord Wareham. If other gentlemen should happen to look her way, that would be no concern of hers.
For the meeting with the Marquess, Lady Lynch had picked out a duck-egg-blue dress for her niece. It was more of a morning gown than a promenade dress. However, with the heat being what it was, it was far better to be in a light and airy gown than to be sweating and chafing under multiple layers of petticoats.
Lady Lynch also asserted that the dress brought out more of Rosalie’s own natural beauty, declaring that anything more extravagant might put her in danger of seeming insecure in her own body. “You do not want the Marquess to feel you are trying over eagerly to garner his good opinion. Often times, the best way to secure a man’s interest is to show relatively little consideration as to how he might view you.”
“You mean it is to prevent my seeming too eager or pressing on the matters of courtship. An understandable consideration.”
Lady Lynch nodded as she began to fuss over Rosalie’s hair. “Yes, you certainly do not want to seem desperate to make yourself a bride. More importantly, however, it will encourage the Marquess to believe that he must do more to earn your hand. Nothing dulls a gentleman’s interest so quickly as a woman dressed and made up to her finest form. Once they have seen that visage a scant few times, they are liable to lose interest in a courtship. For many men, it is the courtship and uncertainty of the chase that is the most pleasing aspect of romance, and they will grow bored once they believe they have sampled all you have to offer. One must always tantalise and spur the questing gentleman onward in his hunt, never letting him see or know all there is to know of you until after you have forced him to stand at the church altar.”
Rosalie frowned as she listened to her aunt. “Was your own courtship with Lord Lynch made in so calculated a manner?” she asked.
Lady Lynch seemed to freeze in place for a moment. When she recovered, her voice was noticeably quieter. “Of course it was,” she admitted. “That does not mean to say, though, that our relationship was any less meaningful as a result. I was very much in love with my husband. That I used various sensible steps to garner his devotion to me does not cheapen what we had together.”
Rosalie blushed a little and turned to face her aunt. “I am sorry if I insulted you. I didn’t mean to suggest that there was anything at all wrong with the way in which you courted your husband.”
“Save for the fact that you would not choose such a path yourself.” Lady Lynch obviously felt a keen sting from Rosalie’s words and seemed suddenly to withdraw herself from the situation. She stopped fussing over Rosalie’s hair, even though it was clear she was not finished. She reminded Rosalie very much of how Grace used to be when she was a young girl, always pouting and falling into a tantrum if someone said something she did not like. Rather than attempting to apologise further for her poorly chosen words, Rosalie chose to remain quiet, deciding it would be far better to effect a reconciliation after her meeting with the Marquess. Hopefully, her aunt would be in a more agreeable mood then and likely to have forgotten the words spoken here.
When the hour of her meeting with Lord Wareham finally came, Rosalie
made a short and perfunctory farewell to her aunt, who had settled in the drawing room with a cup of tea and a book. It was somewhat of a relief to her when Lady Lynch offered her best wishes for the meeting. The woman’s voice still carried a note of hurt, but it was clear she was still interested and invested in her niece’s future and wanted to see her do well.
Rosalie had agreed to meet Lord Wareham at the corner of Grosvenor Square nearest to Hyde Park. It was also the corner furthest from Mr Farrell’s residence, and Rosalie could not help feeling she had selected the spot subconsciously, so as to put as much distance between that man and the Marquess as possible. Indeed, when she thought about what direction their walk should take, she knew in her mind that she wanted to step in any direction that would lead them away from the door of Mr Farrell and Abigail.
Unlike the gentleman who had helped her on her first full day in London, Lord Wareham did not arrive early at their agreed meeting point. In point of fact, he arrived at precisely the time they had agreed upon. In some respects, this was a disappointment to Rosalie, and she had to work hard not to draw a comparison between Lord Wareham’s actions and those of Mr Farrell. She reminded herself that the Marquess was likely far more pressed for time than Mr Farrell and, in all likelihood, had to have attended to several matters of business prior to his coming out to meet her.
One thing which Rosalie could easily admire about Lord Wareham was his impeccable dress. Though he always seemed to be clad in the most fashionable and form-fitting clothes, she liked to believe that he had put some special effort into his attire just for her benefit. His good looks and his exquisite suit made him stand out easily from the crowd, and Rosalie spied him approaching even when he was still some distance away.