“Simkins was recommended to me by my good friend, Lady Verity Blackwood, but if I am honest, he has not proved very useful during my illness. I feel sure that if I have to lean on him for support, we will both end up on the floor!”
Rosanna tried not to smile at the picture the Earl conjured up. She had to remember that she was supposed to be a servant and as such would not stand exchanging banter and pleasantries with her employer or gossip with him about another member of his staff.
But it was so difficult to remember. Every time she spoke to the Earl, she liked him more and more. She admired his courage and his determination to recover and start his life afresh.
She knew that a lot of men with his money and power would have been happy to have become almost semi-invalids, knowing that everything would be done for them for the rest of their lives.
But what was the point of liking the Earl so much? His very words had just convinced her that his affections lay with Lady Verity Blackwood.
She had picked his last servant and it was obvious that she must be the angel he called for when he was ill.
“So, I plan to have my breakfast – or rather lunch as I fear it is almost midday,” the Earl was continuing – “then I will dress and call on you to help me exercise.”
“That seems an excellent idea, my Lord.”
“And what will you do in the meantime, Nurse Robinson? What do nurses do when their patients are sleeping or eating? Do you study learned tomes about medical matters, perhaps? Or practice rolling bandages or making dressings?”
Rosanna looked up from where she was packing away the contents of her nurse’s bag which had become scattered during the course of the night.
Lord Melton was laughing at her!
“Oh, we have to find a little cupboard to sit in until we are needed,” she replied dryly. “But what I shall do, with your permission, is go for a walk around the Castle and take in some much needed fresh air.
“I imagine the storm has cleared away all the heaviness of the past few days and I long to explore. I am so very fond of the countryside.”
The Earl nodded.
“I remember that you said you prefer it to town living. How I wish I could come with you!”
His handsome face looked grave.
“I would give half my fortune to be able to show you round the Castle, point out all my favourite places, then run down to the stable yard and ride Demon up to the Donnington Hall Racecourse.”
Rosanna’s busy hands stilled as she folded and refolded a heavy linen shirt that had been left lying on the floor.
“Donnington Hall? Is that the big house I passed on my way to the Castle?” she remarked casually. “A few miles away from here.”
“Yes, that’s right. A lovely house. The late owner, Sir Leonard Donnington, was a good friend of my father.
“I knew him slightly myself, but not well because I have been away travelling in Europe for many years. But Sir Leonard built a marvellous Racecourse up at Donnington and I had permission for my own horses to exercise there whenever I so wished.”
“Do you know the present owner?” Rosanna asked mischievously.
The Earl shook his head.
“No, I have not yet had that pleasure. The estate has passed to some little niece, a mere child. I expect her friends and advisers will sell it for her.
“I believe she lives in London and is probably one of those flighty young girls who wants for nothing in life but dresses and dances and – and new bonnets!”
“New bonnets are very important, my Lord,” Rosanna admitted gravely, trying to stop herself from giggling.
The Earl waved his hand dismissively.
“Lot of trivial nonsense!” he asserted. “But I am convinced that she won’t be interested in horses and Racecourses!”
Rosanna threw open the window to let in more fresh air.
“I am sure you are right, my Lord,” she agreed, crossing her fingers as she spoke, remembering how Martha, her old Scottish nanny, had told her that if you did this when telling a lie, it didn’t count as one!
“Well, if you will excuse me, my Lord. I will ring for Simkins to come and help you dress and while you are thus occupied, I will go outside to breathe the good fresh country air.”
The Earl watched her go. It was good to feel a little better and he knew that he had Nurse Robinson to thank.
But he had to admit she puzzled him greatly.
Her voice, her vocabulary, even the graceful way she moved – everything about her spoke of an education and upbringing that a nurse, no matter how dedicated, would not have achieved.
He compared her good sense and bravery in dealing with his injury to that of Verity who had run away to London, unable to cope with his declining health.
‘Although perhaps that is an unfair comparison,’ he murmured to himself. ‘After all, Verity is a lady with refined sensibilities and should not be expected to do and see such things.’
But that thought left the Earl even more bewildered, because Nurse Robinson seemed to him to have as much if not more sensitivity than her social betters.
‘Perhaps she is from a good family who have fallen on hard times,’ he pondered. He did realise that if a father or brother lost all his money in business or gambling, the wives and daughters were forced into working to keep body and soul together.
‘I must try and discover her secret,’ he thought as Simkins arrived with clean clothes and he began the long and weary task of dressing.
‘There may be some way in which I can help her in the future – for there is no doubt that I owe her my life. Perhaps I can recommend her to friends who are in need of a nurse. A long-term position in a stately home would surely be of benefit to her.’
And he pushed to the back of his mind the random thought that if only she had been a lady of his own social standing, his admiration for Nurse Robinson could have developed into something far stronger.
Outside in the warm sunshine, Rosanna was enjoying the glorious day. The storm had washed away dust and grime from bushes and trees and every leaf and every flower petal seemed to quiver with bright life in the gentle breeze.
She walked across the moat and down through fields thick with buttercups and daisies to where the racehorses were grazing in a series of large white fenced paddocks.
“Oh, how kind of someone,” she gasped, because there was her little fat pony, Smudger, grazing happily alongside the beautiful bloodstock that she knew were worth hundreds of guineas each.
At the sound of her voice, the pony raised his grey head and after solemnly staring at her as he chewed a mouthful of grass, he ambled over and pushed his velvety nose against her hands, searching for any little titbit she might have had for him.
“Sorry, little pony. I have nothing to give you, I’m afraid. I never dreamed you would be out here in such grand company.”
Rosanna smoothed his mane and gazed out over the fields where the long grasses shimmered in the sunlight.
How lovely it would be to ride today, to feel the breeze cooling her face. Suddenly a wicked idea flashed into her head. There was no one around, no one to see.
She opened the gate, led Smudger through and made sure the latch was tightly down. The race horses watched in interest as she hitched up her long grey skirt and vaulted up onto the pony’s broad back.
Rosanna laughed out loud.
She was showing an enormous amount of white cotton stocking – right up to above her knees – but she had been taught to ride without a saddle by Clive, her dear brother, when they were children and the pony held no fears for her.
‘It is a very good thing that Lord Melton cannot see his nurse at this very moment. I fear he would find my behaviour extremely strange and unladylike!’
She tangled her hands in the rough grey mane and turned the pony’s head out towards the open countryside.
‘We’ll just walk over to that big grove of trees,’ she whispered softly. ‘There’s no one to see us and in half an ho
ur I can have you safely back in the paddock with no harm done.’
Smudger certainly seemed to appreciate being on the move. He walked swiftly forward when she kicked him softly with her heels, eager to stretch his legs.
Rosanna sighed with pleasure.
After her traumatic and busy night, the worry over Lord Melton and having to playact all the time in front of him and the staff, it was sheer Heaven to be out here on her own, able to enjoy the beautiful scenery with not a care in the world for a few minutes.
They reached the trees with no problems and Rosanna was pleased as the cool green shade shut out the glare from the sun. Smudger drifted to a halt and lowered his shaggy head to crop the grass.
‘What an odd and yet enthralling few days I have had since leaving London,’ she thought. ‘How far away now that life of balls and gossip, visits and shopping seems. I truly believe that if I could just return to Donnington Hall and rid myself of Sir Walter, I would never need to visit London again.’
Her blue eyes became troubled as all her problems came to the forefront of her mind once more.
Escaping to Melton Castle had seemed like such a good idea, but now she realised that her close proximity to Lord Melton had opened up a new avenue of worry.
She admitted that flight had been the only thing in her mind when she fled from her home. But at some point she would have to confess who she was to the Earl. There was no way she could let him continue to believe she was a nurse.
Eventually, whatever happened, they would meet socially and she knew that she would be extremely disturbed and unhappy if she ever saw condemnation and even disgust in his dark eyes.
“But why should it matter to me what he thinks?” she said out loud. “Even if I continue to live at Donnington Hall, there is no need for us to meet socially. Indeed, I imagine the Earl will marry his angel, Lady Verity Blackwood, and spend a great deal of his time in London with her.”
Just as her thoughts were growing darker and darker, Smudger threw up his head and snorted. He had heard, seconds before Rosanna could, hoof beats on the path through the wood – someone was coming and at a gallop.
Rosanna gulped and turned the pony, intent on getting out of the way. But even as she kicked Smudger into action, a horse thundered round the bend and was reined to a skidding halt, its rider yelling and cursing as he hauled on the reins.
And to Rosanna’s horror, she recognised the horse and rider immediately. It was Sir Walter Fenwick!
There was no doubting the man’s skill as an equestrian. He kept his seat, spun the horse round and then, with a sinking heart, as she kicked her pony into a trot, she heard him call out,
“Lady Rosanna? Is that you? By God it is. Lady Rosanna! Come back! Come back at once.”
Rosanna refused to look round.
All he could have seen was her back view, but she had thrown off her nurse’s cap when she left the Castle and her long blonde hair was cascading over her shoulders.
She urged the pony into a canter but knew there was no way she could outrun Sir Walter’s horse. Oh, this was dreadful! All her schemes and plans would be for nothing if he was certain it was her.
Bending low over Smudger’s mane, Rosanna urged him off the path and he obediently jumped a small log and pushed his way into the thick undergrowth.
With dainty steps, he made his way through the bushes, under tree branches that were so near the ground that Rosanna had to lie almost flat to pass under them, feeling leaves and twigs catch in her hair as she did so.
But she knew that Sir Walter could never force his big hunter to follow her. She could hear him shouting and calling, but at last they broke out of the woods and she shook Smudger into a wild gallop down the hill and across the fields, back towards the Castle.
Leaning low over his ears, Rosanna urged the little pony to go faster, faster! They sped past the paddocks, but she knew there would be no time to put the pony back with the other horses.
She could hear hooves behind her, thundering on the dry track. Sir Walter was in hot pursuit!
The pony clattered over the wooden ramp across the moat, towards the stables. Rosanna leapt off his back, gazing round wildly. She could hear the man she hated so much, still calling her name. In seconds he would be across the moat and in the stable yard.
There was no time to run into the Castle. She was trapped!
“My Lady! My Lady! Over here. Quickly!”
Rosanna spun round, unable to believe her eyes.
There in the doorway of a cottage, red curls gleaming, was Edie, her maid.
She was beckoning urgently.
Then John Barker appeared at a run, pulled Smudger by his mane and led him away into the stable block.
Her head whirling, Rosanna ran for the cottage and sanctuary.
The door had just closed behind her when a scarlet-faced Sir Walter, using his whip viciously on his chestnut hunter, came galloping into the stable yard and skidded to a halt.
He leapt off his mount, cursing, his gooseberry-coloured eyes bulging with anger. A great vein pulsed in his forehead and there was spittle on his lips.
“Lady Rosanna! I know it was you riding the grey pony. Come out, madam! This is your fiancé speaking. I demand that you come out of hiding and face me at once!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Inside the little cottage, Rosanna collapsed onto a chair as Edie slammed the door shut and locked it.
Her copper-headed maid stood defiantly in front of her Mistress, her fists clenched, and even in her anguish, Rosanna could smile at the sight of the slim slip of a girl preparing to defend her against all comers.
Outside, they could hear Sir Walter shouting, the stamping of hooves and then John Barker’s firm quiet voice.
“I am sorry, Sir Walter, but there’s no Lady Rosanna here.”
“Nonsense! I saw her ride in here with my own eyes. She was on a grey pony. Let me pass! I am Sir Walter Fenwick and I wish to search these stables at once.”
Rosanna flinched.
If he found the pony, he would know he was right. How long would it take him to make the head groom tell him where she was hiding?
“Don’t you fret none, my Lady,” Edie whispered. “John won’t tell him nothing. Just you wait and see.”
“But the pony – ”
“One of the lads will have trotted him down to the far paddock. He’ll be fine. We just have to sit and wait.”
Minutes passed, then Rosanna heard Sir Walter cursing violently as he strode out of the stable block.
“Damn your hide, man. I will see you pay for thwarting me in this fashion. You’re hiding my fiancée somewhere, I know you are!”
“Sir Walter – ”
“What’s in here? Did she run inside this hovel when she got back to the Castle?”
To Rosanna’s horror, the door shook as Sir Walter rattled the handle violently, but the lock held.
“Why is this door locked? What are you hiding?”
“Why nothing, Sir Walter. My little girl is alone inside and I don’t want her running off. She is suffering from a bad attack of fever, but don’t let that stop you looking if you want to, sir. Here, let me unlock it – ”
“Fever? No, no, that won’t be necessary – ”
His voice dwindled away and Rosanna breathed more easily as she heard the sound of his horse’s hooves on the cobbles.
“Listen, whatever you say, I know Lady Rosanna is here at Melton Castle,” he said. “I will be back. And when I do, you will be sorry you have obstructed me in this fashion.”
And at last came the sound of a horse moving away, out of the stable yard.
“He’s gone, my Lady,” Edie said, pulling back the corner of the yellow flowered curtain at the little window and peering out.
“Oh, thank God. I have never seen anyone so angry. He seemed – Edie – he seemed quite mad, chasing me across country. If he had caught me – I cannot bear to think of it!”
She shuddered and dropped her head in her ha
nds.
“Don’t take on so, my Lady. Here, a nice cup of tea is what you need.”
Rosanna lifted her head and smiled, reluctantly. Edie’s answer to every problem in life from a lost button to a dreadful tragedy was always, ‘a nice cup of tea.’
“Thank you, Edie. That would be lovely. I am so delighted to see you, but surprised. Did you not go to Donnington Hall?”
Edie nodded and told Rosanna her story – how Sir Walter had dismissed her when she said she had no idea where Rosanna was, how Bates had slipped her a note suggesting she head for Melton Castle and her adventure with John Barker’s little daughter.
“But you cannot be staying here with them, surely?” Rosanna asked, distressed for the younger girl’s reputation.
Edie smiled and shook her head.
“Oh, no, my Lady. I have a room just off the stable block. I was hiding there until I could manage to speak to you.”
Rosanna sipped her tea. It was indeed hot and sweet and reviving.
“So John Barker knows I am living in the Castle, pretending to be a nurse,” she enquired anxiously.
Edie nodded, her red curls shaking vigorously.
“Oh, don’t worry, my Lady. John won’t say a word. He’ll have me to answer for if he does!”
Rosanna sighed and stood up.
“He is a good man, Edie. And you are a brave girl to have tracked me down here. But soon I shall have to go back to Donnington Hall and face my problems. Sir Walter isn’t going to leave and return to London as I thought he would.”
Edie gave a disdainful sniff.
“If you ask me, my Lady, he can see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. You must be very careful. He’s got a bad reputation, that one, and he loves his horses and gambling.”
Rosanna smoothed her long grey skirt, trying to bring some order back to her nurse’s uniform that had been badly creased from her whirlwind ride.
“He frightens me, Edie,” she said gravely, “I do believe he is insane – indeed he seems that way, especially when he cannot get his own way. But I swear on everything I hold dear that I will not be bullied into marrying him. No woman should be forced into an alliance against her will.”
Love Rescues Rosanna Page 8