Rosalind: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters Series Book 1)

by Audrey Harrison

  “I don’t want any of you to be forced into a marriage for the wrong reasons,” Rosalind said.

  “Unfortunately, we may not have the luxury of too much time,” Annabelle said ominously. She could not marry Mr Wadeson, of that she was sure; but she could not tell a living soul why.

  Chapter 8

  Annabelle and Annie entered the drawing room, whispering to each other conspiratorially. Rosalind looked at the pair; this was not a good sign. Luckily Peter was not used to Annabelle’s ways, so he would not feel any alarm yet.

  “Rosalind, it’s time Annie learned how to dance,” Annabelle said. “I’ve been here nearly a week now, and we promised her on the day I arrived.”

  Rosalind saw Peter stiffen in the chair opposite her. “We haven’t enough people to dance with,” Rosalind responded, trying to stare at her sister in such a way that she would understand that there was a problem with her request and hopefully make her drop the subject.

  Annabelle knew full well what Rosalind was trying to do but ignored the stared command. “Of course, there are enough of us. I can pair with Annie, and Peter and yourself can make a pair. Mrs Fisher is meeting us in the music room; she is happy to play the pianoforte, so there is no problem.”

  “Can we Rosalind? Can we?” Annie asked, her large eyes pleading for the treat.

  Rosalind looked at Peter and shrugged. “The four of us could muddle through, and Annie would enjoy it. Would you be willing?”

  Peter nodded, “I have no objections.” He stood and offered his arm to Rosalind, and they followed Annie and Annabelle out of the room.

  Rosalind had flushed a little when Peter offered his arm. It was foolish of her, but they had so little physical contact between them that she could not stop the reaction. It was not helped by the fact that her heart was pounding at the thought of dancing with her husband for the first time.

  They all entered the music room to find Mrs Fisher already at the pianoforte. Annabelle quickly started to direct Peter into pushing furniture out of their way. “Mrs Fisher, I think we shall walk through the dance for a few times for Annie’s sake and then put the dance to music,” Annabelle instructed.

  Rosalind smiled to herself; this was so reminiscent of their home life: Annabelle organising the activity once she had gained Rosalind’s approval.

  Peter enjoyed the practice part of the dance immensely. It was very much stop, start, while Annie tried to grasp the steps, which enabled him to keep hold of Rosalind much more than he would have done in a normal dancing situation. She did not seem inclined to pull away from his touch, so he continued to enjoy the physical contact with his wife.

  It was a strange situation: he had been married for two months to a beautiful woman and, at the start, he had thought nothing of it. The problem was that once he had started to get to know her, she seemed even more attractive, and he was drawn to her on another level. If he had not been such a noble fool at the start of their marriage, they would already know one another as man and wife normally did, but he was a man of honour and could not break his promise. So he was reduced to enjoying her hand in his and ensuring that they touched as they passed each other in the set.

  “Right, Mrs Fisher, I think we are ready for the music,” Annabelle instructed after half an hour of practice had passed.

  Mrs Fisher started, and the two pairs moved in time to the music. It went wrong very quickly, but they tried to continue as long as they could, helping Annie along the way. All three women were laughing at missed steps or turns in the wrong direction, and Peter had a smile firmly on his face.

  It had soon become apparent that Annie’s co-ordination was poor, but they continued nonetheless. All four were getting sillier as the dancing deteriorated into something that would have mortified any civilised ballroom. In one turn, Annie knocked into Rosalind, which sent her reeling into her husband.

  Rosalind heard Peter’s “Oof.” He automatically grabbed her round the waist as they tumbled onto a sofa. There was no time for thought, but both leaned their heads back, laughing in unison at the fall.

  Rosalind was lying across her husband, her head resting on his shoulder in the most undignified way possible, but she could not stop the laughter. The morning had turned into the best morning since her arrival, and she was happy. She turned her head slightly, and Peter reciprocated the movement.

  Their faces were inches apart, both laughing and relaxed. Peter’s eyes dilated, and he stopped laughing a little when his eyes moved down to Rosalind’s lips. Rosalind suddenly had little breath to laugh with and wondered what Peter was going to do next. They both noticed that the music had stopped, and Peter turned his head from hers. He gently moved Rosalind and stood her up before moving slightly away.

  The group was reassembled, and they continued the dance. Both Peter and Rosalind were suddenly more aware of each other than they had been previously. Each touch seemed to affect every nerve ending, each glance seemed charged with something that made each of them flush.

  Eventually Annie tired and the dancing stopped. Rosalind was touched when Annie hugged Annabelle and herself. “This has been the best day ever!” the young girl said. “It was even better than Peter taking me outside in the carriage.”

  Peter ruffled Annie’s hair, “I’ll remind you of that the next time you want to go outside,” he teased, but he softened the words with a kiss on the cheek. “Now, go on, be off to have some rest, and we shall see you later.”

  Annie and Mrs Fisher left the group. Peter and Rosalind were avoiding looking at each other, but Annabelle filled any gap that developed. “It’s a pity she can’t attend a ball,” Annabelle said.

  “You are seeing the best of her,” Peter explained patiently. “With strangers she can easily be upset and overreact at the slightest thing. I would hate to put her in such a position; it would do untold damage to her.”

  “I understand that,” Annabelle acknowledged. “But surely there must be enough people that she knows well and know her for a small gathering to occur here? She is going to see us preparing for the ball tomorrow and will feel left out.”

  “She understands,” Rosalind intervened, supporting her husband. “I’ve explained to her that she can’t come to the ball.”

  Annabelle let the subject drop, but Rosalind could tell that she was not content with the result. She hoped for Annie’s sake that Annabelle would not encourage her to be discontented with her life. It would not be fair to Annie, especially after she had gone through such a rough time with her father and eldest brother.

  *

  Peter walked into the library to find Rosalind holding a letter but distractedly staring into the fire. Thoughts of how things had seemed to shift between them earlier were put to one side as he responded to the air of perturbation around her.

  “Is there something troubling you?” Peter asked gently, taking the seat opposite Rosalind.

  Rosalind was startled at Peter’s words; she had been so deep in thought that she had not noticed his entrance. “Oh, I’m sorry; I was distracted,” she said, not sure how to explain what thoughts were troubling her.

  “Anything I can help with?” Peter probed.

  “I’ve had a letter from father, supporting something that Annabelle told me on her arrival,” Rosalind started. “It is all a little confusing. It appears that father has had a change of heart and he wants, no insists that one of my sisters marries a Mr Wadeson, who is to take over his business when he dies,” Rosalind finished with a frown at the letter.

  “I had thought that he wished you all to have titles,” Peter said, recalling one of the conversations with his solicitor as they went through the fine detail of the marriage agreement. Mr Johnson had insisted that Peter had to agree to do everything in his power to introduce his others daughters to titled gentlemen who were marriageable. It seemed strange to have such a change of heart so soon.

  “He was; as we have grown, he has always talked of it. We did not really take him seriously until he arranged the marria
ge between ourselves,” Rosalind said, with a faint blush at the memory of how she had argued against the marriage. “He was determined that we would all receive titles.”

  “Does he usually change his mind?” Peter asked. Many of the aristocracy were fickle: Mr Johnson could obviously be the same; he had enough money to act in any way he wished.

  “No, that is what is puzzling,” Rosalind admitted with a frown. “He is usually steadfast in the decisions he makes, but he seems determined that one of them will marry Mr Wadeson, whoever he is.”

  “The fact that you do not know him would suggest that he is a new acquaintance?” Peter enquired.

  “Yes, and from what Annabelle has said, he isn’t a man of good character, which is another reason that it is strange,” Rosalind mused. “Even though we were to be married, he had your background checked out; there seems to be none of that with this man.”

  Peter frowned; it did seem out of character. “What are you going to do?”

  “I learned a long time ago that once father has made his mind up, there is no changing it, although his current behaviour would suggest otherwise,” Rosalind said. “I still am determined that my sisters will have the opportunity to marry for love; while they are with me, he can’t influence them.”

  “I see,” Peter said. He stung a little, feeling that Rosalind was reacting against the way their marriage had been arranged, but then he inwardly cursed himself. What did he expect when she had been forced into a marriage with him? She was very protective of her sisters; of course, she would want something better for them.

  *

  Rosalind remained seated at her dressing table when her maid had completed her toilette in good time. This was the first ball that she was attending in the locality, and her nerves were a little on edge. That it was a ball being held in her honour by Lord Kettering did not make her feel any better. Lady Joan had been at pains to make her life uncomfortable since she had arrived in the area. She consoled herself that she would have Peter, Annabelle and Mrs Adams there for support.

  Thinking of Peter brought other emotions to the surface. The connection they had shared the previous day had bothered her long into the night. She had not imagined his look, and she knew that, without question, her own expression had reflected his. When had she, no, they, moved onto something other than strangers existing in the same house? Perhaps she was being too harsh; they were slightly more than strangers, but they still had not shown any real affection towards each other. She was not sure she felt something beyond affection even now, but something had happened that had upset her equilibrium.

  What was making it more difficult was the fact that the first two dances would be with Peter. It was normal; it was expected, so why were her insides already doing a dance on their own?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Annabelle entering her room. “You look lovely,” Rosalind said, turning away from her looking glass and facing her sister.

  It was true, Annabelle was wearing a cream silk dress with peach trimmings on the sleeve and hem. She wore peach ribbon through her hair; it was all very elegant and perfect for one who was still a debutante even though she was two and twenty.

  “I think we are going to be the belles of the ball,” Annabelle said. Rosalind was wearing a pale blue silk dress, which had none of the usual contrasting embellishments. The blue silk had embroidery around the hemline, which snaked up towards the waistline, before petering out. It was the same colour as the fabric and was elegant on one as tall as Rosalind. Her hair was swept up into a cascade of curls, which were littered with tiny blue roses, matching the dress perfectly.

  Rosalind laughed, “Modesty dear Annabelle!” she said. “Many of those here tonight would not think us the belles of the ball even if we were draped in gold. We are from a different class.”

  “Ha! Those people don’t bother me!” Annabelle said. “I’m looking for a husband as handsome as yours. He doesn’t seem to bother about our background.”

  “He couldn’t afford the luxury of being bothered,” Rosalind answered, but then changed tack. “What do you think of Peter now that you have spent some days with him?”

  “He seems nice, which added to good looks, is a definite bonus!” Annabelle said with an impish smile. “He obviously dotes on Annie, which is lovely to see; at least you know when you get to know each other better, he would be a loving father, which is more than can be said of our own!” she said tactfully, bearing in mind the previous conversation the sisters had shared.

  Rosalind flushed and decided to be honest with her sister. She needed someone to confide in, especially after yesterday’s events. “There won’t be any children.”

  “You have only been married a little while; give it chance. I know you were strangers, but you will get more familiar with each other,” Annabelle said smiling.

  “It wouldn’t matter how long we had been married,” Rosalind explained, her cheeks a deep red. “Peter explained very early on that we would be leading separate lives in that respect. He does not wish for children; he said the line will die out with him.” She was not really sure how to explain fully the conversation she had endured on that first day.

  “Oh,” Annabelle responded. “That’s very strange.”

  “Why?” Rosalind asked, a little defensive. “We don’t really know how the aristocracy live and what has happened in the past to make him come to such a decision.”

  “No, I wasn’t talking about that,” Annabelle snorted. “Have you never noticed how Peter looks at you?”

  “No,” came the honest reply.

  Annabelle shrugged, “You were obviously strangers when you met, and I would hate to start off the way you did. Since staying here though, I have become aware of something and, although I am certainly no expert on marriage, I hope my husband looks at me the way yours does you. I’ve noticed it every time you are together, and I think it’s about time you took notice yourself. I’m surprised at you Rosalind. You are usually the first to see anything; it has been a complete pain when I’ve been trying to get up to mischief in the past. Why have you become so insular now?”

  Rosalind laughed, “I have no idea! Perhaps it is because I am not surrounded by three troublesome sisters anymore; I no longer have the need to be wary of what tricks I would be faced with!” Rosalind mulled over Annabelle’s words; it was true she had not been aware of Peter looking at her. She wondered if Annabelle was correct and it did mean something; the thought did nothing to calm her fluttering insides.

  The sisters made their way downstairs to Peter and Annie, who were waiting for them in the hallway. “Annie wanted to see us before we left,” Peter explained. It was obvious that he was feeling a little out of his depth, because he hated disappointing Annie.

  “Oh, you look beautiful!” Annie exclaimed, her face lighting up as the sisters approached her.

  “Thank you,” Rosalind said, taking hold of Annie’s hands and kissing her on the cheek.

  “I wish I had dresses that were so pretty,” Annie said, longingly.

  “That is one thing we can do for you Annie,” Rosalind said with a quick look at Peter, seeking his approval. “You have always had to rely on brothers for dresses, which is no good for a young lady. While Annabelle is staying with us, we shall request the modiste visit us and sort you out a new wardrobe.”

  Rosalind’s words could not have been received with more excitement. She was wrapped in an embrace that only Annie could give. Mrs Fisher moved forward from the discreet distance where she had been standing.

  “Annie, you will crush Her Grace’s dress,” the companion gently reprimanded the girl.

  “Sorry!” Annie said, immediately jumping back.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rosalind said with a smile. “I’m glad you approve my idea. Now I think you should start to plan with Mrs Fisher what colours you like.” Rosalind wanted to distract Annie from feeling sad at being left behind.

  Mrs Fisher guided Annie away, and the three were left to climb into th
e carriage, content to know that Annie was happy. Peter turned the conversation away from his sister. “I’m hoping that after the first two dances I have with Rosalind, you would save me the next dance,” he said to Annabelle.

  “Of course,” Annabelle replied easily. “I hope not to have to sit out every dance. Have you spread the news about my dowry?”

  “Annabelle!” Rosalind chastised her sister. “What an uncouth way of wanting to be introduced to the locality.”

  Annabelle laughed, moreso when she saw Peter smiling. “I may as well let the young men in the area know what advantage I bring. It will save time in the long-term.”

  Rosalind looked about to speak again, but Peter intervened. “Mrs Adams will have made it her business to let everyone know that you have a large dowry. She can be relied on to be promoting you at every opportunity. She doesn’t support every new person to the neighbourhood, but if she likes you, which she does, she will ensure that every eligible bachelor will have heard about you.”

  “Good!” Annabelle said. She had visited with Mrs Adams every day during visits at home and had obtained the older woman’s approval. Now all she had to do was gain the approval of the local single men and then, hopefully, she could stay in the same area as Rosalind, far away from Mr Wadeson. Even without that gentleman, life had not been the same without her elder sister, but Annabelle was also aware that Rosalind was lonely, and she wanted to be able to help her sister if at all possible.

  The carriage arrived at the busy manor house. Carriages filled the drive, causing noise and hustle and bustle. Rosalind felt a little nervous; she had met everyone in the locality since her arrival in the area, but this was the first large gathering. Peter looked at his wife and held out his hand.

  Rosalind looked at the gloved hand being offered and took it gratefully, squeezing it a little in appreciation. It was a small gesture but one that helped calm her nerves.

  Peter stepped out of the carriage and, instead of a footman handing down Rosalind, he took hold of her and guided her out of the carriage. “Come, Duchess, we have two dances promised,” he said quietly.