The Marquess’s Hand_A Regency Romance Novel

by Rosie Wynter

  Rosalie tightened her grip on her younger sister. “Of course, I want to know. We’ve never had secrets before, you and I.”

  “That is only because Claire always tells us what the other doesn’t know.” Grace’s hands moved to hold Rosalie’s then, and her eyes turned to look at her. “If you really must know what is troubling me, it is your fiancé.”

  Claire sat up now and leaned forward, expectant of something juicy and interesting. “Oh? Were you taken in by his charming manner and looks? I swear Rosalie, you have found a man right out of the greatest love stories I have ever read.”

  Grace snorted. “Your fascination with fiction, Claire, is going to land you in trouble one day. You need to live in the real world. From what I’ve seen of the Marquess so far, I can’t say I am fully convinced by him.”

  Rosalie was stunned. She had fully expected both her sisters to be eating out of Lord Wareham’s hand, and she certainly could not have predicted that Grace, of all people, would have been the one to doubt the man. “Please, hold nothing back. Tell me what it is that you don’t like about him. “

  Grace lifted herself off the windowsill and began to pace the floor. “I know you would ordinarily see this as my trying to tease you, but Rosalie, I swear this is my genuine impression. Throughout our meeting with that man, today, I kept noticing the way he would cast his eye over me; you too, Claire, though you never seemed to notice.”

  “Grace, that is a terrible thing to say and completely conceited of you!” Claire seemed riled and defensive. Rosalie was gratified to see her younger sister trying to defend her feelings. However, after all she had observed and seen, herself, of the Marquess, she found herself eager to hear more of Grace’s observations. Although she had always thought Grace to be too bold and too self-assured in matters of romance, it seemed that her younger sister was possessed of a wisdom, in courtship, far beyond what Rosalie could have guessed, if she had already picked up on those concerns that had been so long building within her.

  “Please, do not feel you have to hold back, Grace. Honestly, I think I already know a little of what you mean and would be grateful if you were to set my mind at ease by telling me truthfully and honestly all you observed of the Marquess.” Rosalie walked over to Claire and sat with her, holding her hand to reassure her that she was not at all insulted or concerned by Grace’s words regarding Lord Wareham.

  Grace pursed her lips, and her eyes seem to veer away from her two sisters. In spite of her decision to speak honestly and truthfully, it was clear she took no real pleasure in it. “I feel like I’ve seen Lord Wareham’s type before. You see it in a lot of men if you look hard enough. They have a kind of wandering eye that can never be satisfied or remain in one place for very long. I noticed it the minute he laid eyes on me. He kind of looked me over as though judging and appraising me. I almost felt like I was a battlefield to him or some kind of puzzle which he wished to work out.” She shook her head and looked at Claire once more. Her younger sister was clearly very much confused and seemed almost fearful of the frankness in which the matters were being discussed between them. “I assure you he looked at you, Claire, as much as he did me. Almost as if we were untamed horses at a sale.”

  Rosalie tried to keep the spirits up and squeezed Claire’s hand just a little harder to show that she was unaffected by the dire portents of their conversation. “I have felt for some time that Lord Wareham would likely find your greater beauty alluring to him. I must confess that I even braced myself for his attention to be diverted to you, on your arrival.”

  Grace took in a deep sigh.

  It was not often that she could be embarrassed, but she had no intention of stealing the regard of her sister’s betrothed, and it was clear she felt some shame in the matter, even if she was not to blame for it. “I don’t understand you, Rosalie” she declared. She crossed her arms almost in annoyance. “If you knew that Lord Wareham would behave this way to me, and have guessed before now that he has a wandering eye, just why have you agreed to marry the man? I refuse to believe that with all of our aunt’s assistance, you are unable to procure the interest of any other gentlemen in London. What is it? Is it his title? Is that what you covet? I had not thought you so callous in matters of the heart. I mean, I know you were always one for propriety and believed in marrying well, but I at least thought you would try to put love over wealth when it came to choosing a partner.”

  Rosalie blushed, and her eyes were unable to meet those of her younger sisters. For the first time, it occurred to her that Grace truly was the most adult of the three of them, despite being over four years younger than herself. Still, Grace had not fully understood Rosalie, and she was not going to let either of her sisters think that she had chosen the Marquess purely from a desire to be mistress of a grand estate. “It is nothing like that at all!” She stood now and walked briskly across the room, standing level with her sister and looking her firmly in the eye to let her know that there was no lie or deceit in her words. “When I first met the man, I truly thought his intentions and kind words to me were true and honest. He was incredibly charming and paid me the kind of attention no man before has ever dared show me. I make no excuse for having failed to see his true form, but I do not want you to think that I chose him out of purely selfish desires.”

  Grace’s sky-blue eyes studied her sister’s duller grey ones for a moment. When she was satisfied, the accusing look she held vanished from her face, and an embarrassed blush appeared on her cheek. “Forgive me, it was wrong of me to think you would be like that.”

  Rosalie hugged Grace. It was good to be able to hold her sisters close to her in that moment and know that they were both on her side. “I understand why you might think as you did. In all honesty, the truth of things is not much better than if I had chosen the man for his money alone. At least, if that were the case, I would not look such a fool as I do now.”

  Claire crawled across the bed and held on to the corners of the bedpost as she looked to her older siblings with some concern. “Then what are you to do? Mother and Father have come up all this way, and I doubt our aunt is going to be pleased, should you choose to refuse him now.” The youngest of them thought for a moment, humming to herself, as she tried to come up with some solution of her own. “I mean is it really so terrible that he has this so-called wandering eye? As long as he is true to you, in your marriage, and has not shown any signs of…”

  “… My goodness, what are you suggesting Claire?” Grace was incredulous. “You were the one always reading those fanciful tales of true love. I did not peg you to be the sort to suggest Rosalie settle for a man whose mind and attention is always flitting to others.”

  Claire seemed to coil up like a snail retreating into its shell. “But Wareham is a Marquess,” she said. “It is unwise at the best of times for a woman to renege on an engagement once she has accepted it. With Wareham’s status, however, I am sure he could manufacture ways to make our lives exceedingly difficult if Rosalie were to refuse him. Think of the embarrassment it would cause him.”

  Grace turned a nose up at her younger sister, seeming unable even to look at her at that moment. “Well, if you’re worried about your own prospects for the future, then I guess I truly am the better sister.” She looked to Rosalie then and put a hand on her shoulder in a pointed display of solidarity. “I am happy to put my future on the line for you, Rosalie.”

  Rosalie batted her sister’s hand away. “Please, Grace, I do not need this to turn into some competition as to which of you is a better sister to me. There is more I must tell you about my time here in London.” She took a deep breath, knowing that her next revelation would be even more stunning to her two siblings than what she had already revealed. When she opened her mouth to speak, she did so hesitantly, and she could feel her throat drying as she admitted the truth. “There is… another man, besides Wareham.”

  Both her sister’s eyes grew wide in shock. A smile like that of some proud cat spread over Grace’s features, whil
e Claire clapped her hands gleefully. She reflected that, really, this was what she should have expected of them both. To Claire, these revelations must have seemed more captivating and enchanting than any of the best novels she read, and Grace was surely savouring the satisfaction of seeing her older sister struggling in matters of love, when once she claimed to have more authority on the subject.

  “Both of you, this is no joking matter,” Rosalie chided.

  Grace laughed and threw herself onto the bed, making a show of getting comfy among the pillows and the soft downy mattress. “I am sure it isn’t,” she replied in a mock serious tone. “However, as serious as it may be, I’m afraid Claire and I are going to enjoy every moment of this.” She waved her hand as though she were the King himself. “Proceed with your tale. Tell us about this mysterious third party.”

  Rosalie could feel her cheeks growing hotter, and her fingers balled into fists. “You’re insufferable, Grace; you know that?” Though her face showed real irritation, there was a part of her which relished this sort of playful teasing, and she could not hold it against her sister. She paced the length of the room once again, summoning up her nerve and preparing her mind for what she had to say. She then cast both her sisters a sideways glance and warned them, “Please do not ask me any questions or make jokes about what I am to say until I’m quite finished. It is hard enough talking of these matters, and I feel I will never get to the end of them if I am interrupted or made to feel too embarrassed by it all.”

  Grace altered her over-relaxed position, sitting up and paying the kind of attention a schoolgirl would in lessons. She nodded at Rosalie encouragingly. “I promise you, I will not make any jests at all.”

  “You know I won’t either,” Claire added.

  Both sisters were as good as their word, and Rosalie was able to tell them the full story of all that had transpired during her time in London. She held absolutely nothing back. She told them of the near-fatal collision with the two riders in Hyde Park and her chance meeting with the bright and wonderful little Abigail and her kind and attentive father, Mr Farrell. She spared no details, nor tried to defend her aunt, as she told them of the harsh words that woman had thrown at her rescuer when he delivered her home and of the rumoured past she had learned about him from her. To this she added her observations of the man and her firm belief that he could not have committed the kinds of crimes of passion he had been accused of.

  Between her faithful recounting of all that had passed between herself and Mr Farrell, she made sure to explain just how she had ended up believing herself in love with Lord Wareham and had come to accept him. Speaking aloud of how she had coveted his flirtatious comments and attentive manner, she felt quite ashamed of herself, especially when she confessed that she had always noticed the way other women acted around him and, more crucially, how he acted around them.

  Rosalie felt quite drained by the time she had finished telling all she had to tell. Her legs were worn out from pacing the floor. She took a seat in the vacated window seat and glanced nervously to her sisters, as she awaited their judgement. Though they had both been true to their word and remained silent throughout her account of what had happened, they were fully entitled to their opinions, and Rosalie braced herself for their criticisms.

  “Are you are telling me you have no idea just who this mysterious woman from Mr Farrell’s past is, other than what you gleaned from that one portrait in his home?” Claire’s question suggested that her youngest sister did not judge Rosalie at all for her actions during her stay in London and was far more consumed by the mystery surrounding Mr Farrell’s murky past.

  “No.” Rosalie had been caught off guard by the question. As she looked to her sisters’ eager faces, and realised that they were both willing to help her, she focused her mind. “Well, in point of fact, I do have one clue to follow if I’m to find the truth that Mr Farrell is hiding from me.”

  Grace stood up, jumping to her feet like a soldier ready for action. “If there is anything either of us can do to help, consider it done. It sounds like this Mr Farrell is the sort of man your heart truly craves, but I do not believe I could give my blessing without knowing the truth behind his past. Though he sounds wonderful on the surface, I must know that you are not being tricked again by some other ne’er-do-well.”

  Rosalie wanted to interject and defend the man at once. She held her tongue though, as her sister’s caution came from her deep love for her, and she simply wished to protect Rosalie from making another mistake, with a different man. “I am certain if we can find the truth of the matter, it will reveal Mr Farrell’s innocence, but I assure you I will not go running after him until I know just what it is that he has been keeping hidden all these years.”

  “So, how do you intend to uncover the truth?” Claire asked.

  Rosalie looked at both her sisters, encouraged by how excited and determined they both seemed to be in their desire to help her. “I know that the girl in question was more or less born into service to Mr Farrell’s father, the late Dr. Farrell. Conceivably, if we can find her name in parish records and learn the name of Dr. Farrell’s steward, we should be able to find out just who she is and perhaps stand a chance of finding her.”

  CHAPTER 24

  The Curtis family had only two days to enjoy London’s delights before they were expected to travel south to Lord Wareham’s family estate in Sussex. This did not give Claire and Grace much time to find what they needed for their sister, but it was a better start than Rosalie would have had by working alone. Claire was the person most able to wander at will through the city. Her passion for reading books was not greatly shared by her parents or Lady Lynch. She was, therefore, able to find time to slip away from her family on the pretence of visiting the many bookstores and public libraries of the city. The only barrier she had was in not knowing the city well and her parents’ fear that she could easily get lost.

  This, however, played well into the three sisters’ plan as it meant Rosalie could volunteer herself as a guide for her younger sister, thus freeing herself to join in the hunt for the mysterious woman in Mr Farrell’s picture.

  The parishes of London being quite small, there were a large number of churches in the city in order to account for the larger volume of people living in the capital. Assuming the young girl from Mr Farrell’s past had been born in London, which was more than likely, it would not take long for her name to be discovered through a careful and considered perusal of the parishes’ older records. The challenge, however, came in knowing just what name they should look for, and which parish to start with.

  Rosalie had never known the name of Mr Farrell’s steward and so some extra detective work was needed in order to discover it.

  In the end, it was Claire who lighted upon an ingenious means of discovering the truth of that man’s name. To speed up their search and ensure that they did not have to move between multiple places, she looked to the records of deaths recorded in London, as these carried with them occupations. The parish records were extensive and painstakingly written, carrying a wealth of information on those who had died. They included not only names and gender, but the occupation, address, and cause of death. Claire volunteered to do all the digging herself. Rosalie was, by now, well known in the city and could not effect the kind of search she wished to undertake without attracting some kind of notice. Claire, on the other hand, was a brand-new face and able to search for records without anyone batting an eyelid or passing comment. This did not stop Claire from inventing some convoluted and ingenious excuse for her search, pretending to be some orphan in search of her parents. Despite the seriousness of their search, Rosalie had laughed at her sister’s fanciful nature and her desire to turn their expedition into something even more daring and full of intrigue than it already was.

  Of course, while it did not take two people to read the books of the parish, Rosalie dearly wished she could help her sister. Forced to idly wander the streets outside, doing circular laps so as to avoid be
ing seen loitering was exhausting and did not allow her to feel at all productive or useful. Considering that this was her search and her heart that was on the line, Rosalie felt guilty that it was her sisters who were having to put in all the work. It made her more grateful than she could possibly say for their existence. With their help, she felt the equal of any task set before her. It was a humbling and novel thought. In the past, she had always assumed herself to be the responsible one of the three of them. She was the eldest, and it was up to her to look after her siblings and to make sure that she was there to help them. She would never have guessed that it would one day be herself that needed to be rescued and cared for by them.

  The useful part of wandering in a circle about a church was that Rosalie knew exactly how much time had passed since her arrival and how long Claire’s search had taken. They had arrived at the church just before the hour of eleven, and she emerged again approximately ten minutes after the bells tolled the hour of two. Rosalie caught sight of her sister lingering on the steps, enjoying the warm sunshine on her face and breathing in deep the London air. Knowing that the city’s peculiar aroma must be new to Claire, Rosalie could only assume that the air inside the chapel had been musty. As she came closer to her sister, she could even see the dust that had brushed off onto her clothes while poring over old and likely untouched tomes. However, it was the expression on Claire’s face which Rosalie looked to most. Her clever younger sister wore a proud and triumphant smile, and Rosalie knew at once that she had found exactly what they were looking for.

  Unable to keep up the pretence of a quiet and sensible walk, Rosalie picked up her skirts and ran to the church entrance, clutching her sister’s hands in hers as she looked to her for an answer. “Well, did you find anything? You did, didn’t you?”

  The smile on Claire’s face grew wider, and she nodded firmly. “Yes. The records here are marvellous and have absolutely everything I could have needed to be one hundred percent certain that I had found the person you are looking for. Her name is Harriet Donne, and she was born, as you guessed, right here in London, at the home of Mr Farrell. You said your gentleman friend’s father was a doctor, did you not?”