Edie was busy washing up the used cup and saucer, her back to her Mistress.
“And will you be telling Lord Melton who you are, my Lady?”
Rosanna hesitated.
She knew that she must confess to the Earl, and soon, but it was going to be such a difficult conversation. And she worried about his health. Was he strong enough yet to be confronted with such news?
Would he perhaps view her as a charlatan, someone not to be trusted, order her out of his Castle, and insist that she return to her own home?
The very thought made her tremble with unhappiness.
But why should she react in this way? She had only known the Earl for a short while and his affections were so obviously engaged elsewhere – with the woman he called ‘his angel.’
Rosanna gave herself a mental shake.
“Yes, indeed that is something I have to do soon, Edie. But for now, I need to return to my room and check on my patient. I have been gone too long for a casual walk in the fresh air.”
Edie glanced swiftly at her Mistress’s flushed cheeks and for once held her tongue.
‘Oh, ho,’ she thought with glee, ‘that’s how the land lies, eh? Well, I’m not a bit surprised, but I only hope he feels the same way about her.’
A quick check into the stable yard convinced Rosanna that Sir Walter had indeed left the Castle.
With swift orders to Edie to remain where she was until further notice, she hurried into the Castle and fled up the stone stairways and along the vast corridors to her bedroom.
She splashed her face with cold water from the blue and white basin and did her best to tie up her long blonde hair so it sat neatly under the nurse’s cap.
But her reflection in the small dressing table mirror showed someone who looked flushed and excited.
Swiftly Rosanna changed her filthy apron for a clean one, relying on it covering the worst of the stains and snags her dress had gathered from the wild ride through the woods.
There was no time to change her stockings and shoes and she would just have to hope that the Earl would be too preoccupied with his health to notice.
Dusk was falling by the time she made her way downstairs to the Earl’s bedroom. She tapped gently on the door, but there was no reply.
Opening it, she was surprised and worried to find the big room empty.
“Oh, Nurse Robinson, there you are! Why have you been away from your post for so long? His Lordship has been asking for you for the past hour.”
The butler, Mr. Digby was standing there, looking at her with a disapproving expression.
“I am so sorry, I lost track of the time,” she explained hastily. “But where is Lord Melton? He has surely not been able to walk far. He will do his leg some permanent damage if he does.”
Mr Digby’s expression softened at the note of real concern in the young woman’s voice. He found it refreshing. All the other nurses who had come to the Castle, had been good women, but to them the Earl had been just another patient and they had not shown a great deal of compassion.
“His Lordship is in the small blue drawing room, nurse. In the end turret of the Castle.”
“Thank you, Mr. Digby,” Rosanna said and hurried along the stone passageway.
Her knock at the door was greeted by a command to enter.
She found the Earl seated on the window seat in front of a curved window that looked out over the grounds and far away into the distance.
He was dressed in a white shirt and grey trousers. He had been shaved and his dark hair was brushed back, except for one unruly lock that fell across his forehead. He looked far better than he had earlier that morning.
“Ah, Nurse Robinson. You have returned from your walk refreshed, I hope?”
“I must apologise for being back so late, my Lord,” Rosanna said, hurrying across to him. “I am afraid I went further than I had planned.”
The Earl smiled up at her and she was delighted to see that colour had returned to his cheeks and his dark eyes were bright.
“No matter. You are here now. I imagine you are surprised to find me up and about.”
“Indeed, my Lord, it is a delight to behold, but I do hope you are not overtaxing your strength. Your fever was very bad.”
The Earl waved away her concerns.
“Apart from a faint ache in my leg where the wound is healing, I feel incredibly better. And it is all due to your skill, nurse.”
He looked at her sharply.
“Where did you train? I am sure our local hospital would be glad to acquire nurses of your ability. And I have various friends who are also in need of a live-in nurse. I would be pleased to recommend you. Just say the word.”
Rosanna bit her lip and took a step backwards.
This was dreadful. How could she go on lying to him? But what could she say? Was this the right time to tell the truth?
She took a deep breath and stared down into those warm, honest eyes. He was too fine a man to cheat in this fashion. Whatever he thought of her, he must know the truth at once.
“My Lord, I must tell you – ”
“Do you like this room, nurse?” the Earl interrupted her and she stopped in mid-sentence, startled.
“Yes, indeed, my Lord. It is very fine.”
He was looking around at the odd, circular room. Pale blue silk curtains softened the old grey stones and there were soft Persian rugs on the floor.
The Earl nodded now to the far corner.
“This was my mother’s drawing room. That is her piano.”
Rosanna walked across and touched the keys with gentle fingers.
“It is a lovely instrument. Did she die many years ago, my Lord?”
He sighed and replied quietly,
“I was just ten. I have good memories of her. remember my governess bringing me here in the afternoon and Digby – a much younger Digby, of course! – serving tea for me and my parents. My mother would play and sing and we were happy. After her death, I was sent to Eton.”
Rosanna glanced back at him, but he was outlined against the window and in the shadow she could not see the expression on his face.
Her heart ached for him.
She had lost her mother recently and the scars from the grief were still raw. But at least she had been an adult when the loss occurred. Lord Melton had been but a child and left to the devices of a busy father and the brisk impersonal life of a boarding-school, she could imagine his loss had seemed the greater.
“Do you play the piano, by any chance, nurse?”
Rosanna hesitated.
Of course Lady Rosanna Donnington had been given music lessons since she was five, but would a Nurse Robinson have had the same advantages?
Then as he stood up and walked towards her, she could see his face clearly. He looked so sad, so wistful, that she threw caution to the winds and sat down at the beautiful piano.
“I haven’t played for some time, my Lord,” she said. “But this is a little tune that my mother liked very much.”
The soft notes of a little French lullaby fell into the room like drops of cool water falling into a fountain on a hot day.
The Earl crossed the room and leant on the piano, staring down at the hideous white cap covering a knot of blonde hair and her hands with those long sensitive fingers gently caressing the keys.
‘Well,’ he thought as he enjoyed the delicate music, ‘I do not know who you are, Nurse Robinson, but you are not a nurse. You are a lady born and bred. Those hands have never done hard work day after day. I wonder why you will not confide in me?’
“That was excellent,” he said as the piece came to an end. “Charming. You play very well, nurse.”
Rosanna stood and began to tidy the music that lay on top of the piano.
“No, my Lord, I think I need a great deal more practice to be considered a good player. But I know enough to entertain myself – when I have access to a piano, that is!”
“Of course.”
He smiled, watching her lo
ng, slim hands bringing order to the sheet music. Small tendrils of hair were escaping from under her cap and he could see how fine and blonde they were.
He felt a desperate desire to see what her hair would be like if it was unpinned from its severe style and set free from that dreadful cap.
“I find music very soothing, especially when I am suffering from some mental affliction. It helps me to concentrate on finding a way out of my difficulties.”
The Earl’s dark brown eyes sharpened.
“Are you suggesting I should have more music in my life, nurse?”
Rosanna flushed but turned to face him. She would not flinch.
“I think music and prayer are a great help, my Lord. I feel that most people today are rather inclined to say, ‘oh, well, it has happened and we can do nothing about it.’ I am sure that is wrong.”
“I am sure it is wrong, too,” the Earl agreed and she was aware of just how close they were standing.
She could see where a button was hanging by a thread from his shirt and had to stop herself from reaching out to pull it free.
“You seem to think in a very different way from most women, Nurse Robinson. You are extremely sensible for one so young. Surely you should be doing something better with your life than looking after ill people such as myself?”
Rosanna turned away.
She did not want him to see the guilt she sensed must be written on her face.
“I feel that nursing is a very worthwhile occupation, my Lord. Perhaps if more girls of good education followed that calling, then more good would be done for the sick and injured.”
Lord Melton frowned.
“You will be saying you want women to become doctors, too, and cut up bodies and perform dreadful operations!”
Rosanna spun back, her chin up, her blue eyes flashing.
“Any woman who would have the courage to walk such a path would have my utmost admiration.”
There was silence for a second.
Rosanna gasped. She had forgotten who she was supposed to be. No mere employee would have dreamed of speaking to the Earl in such tones, no matter how provoked.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I spoke without thinking. All I meant was that we should all use the brains we have been given by God and not neglect them in pursuit of ephemeral ideas that might leave us disillusioned and unhappy.”
The Earl listened to her, staring down at the beautiful face before him.
“Who are you really, Nurse Robinson?” he asked vehemently and just then there was a knock at the door and Digby entered.
“There’s a gentleman downstairs to see you, my Lord. His name is Sir Walter Fenwick and he says that although you have never been introduced, it is very important he should see you. He knows you have been ill, but still insists on a minute or two of your time. He would not be sent away, my Lord.”
Rosanna swayed and gulped in horror.
“Oh, no!” she cried. “He is looking for me, but I cannot see him. Please help me!”
The Earl and Digby both stared at her, astonished by her outburst.
“Do you know this man?” Lord Melton asked.
“I know him and the reason he is here. He wants to take me away and it will be difficult for me to refuse him – he scares me so much,” she replied in a flurry.
“I can send him away, but he may come back another time, or he may watch the Castle if he is so keen on seeing you. What hold does he have over you, nurse?”
“Please, please, just send him away, my Lord, and I will explain everything.”
She spoke in such a pleading voice that the Earl looked at her in surprise.
“I will see him. Digby, show him up. Nurse Robinson – that Chinese screen by the far wall is large enough to hide a small person such as yourself. Sit on the chair behind it and you can listen and not be seen. Do not fret, I will not let him near you.”
Her face as white as her cap, Rosanna took up her position.
The Earl turned to his butler.
“Now, Digby, show Sir Walter Fenwick upstairs, but remember, do not mention that I have a nurse living in the Castle. If he inquires from you, say my leg is re-bandaged every day by staff from the hospital.”
His footsteps died away and when the room was empty, Rosanna heard the Earl walk across to the screen and say quietly,
“You have no need to be frightened. I will not let this man harm you in any way. Trust me.”
“Oh, I do,” Rosanna whispered desperately, clasping her hands in her lap in anguish.
“If it is the Devil himself, he will not take you against your will,” the Earl muttered as he returned to his seat. “Not while I have a breath left in my body.”
Minutes later Rosanna heard the door open and Digby announce in a cold, disdainful tone,
“Sir Walter Fenwick to see you, my Lord.”
Rosanna shuddered as the harsh voice she hated so much rang out.
“Forgive me for intruding in this way, but I need your assistance, sir, and I am sure you are able to help me.”
Lord Melton had retired to a large chair and through the narrow gap that existed between the two parts of the screen, Rosanna could see that he was lying back on the heavily embroidered blue cushions with his foot propped up on a stool.
“To help you, sir? I am afraid at the moment I am too ill after a fall from my horse to help anyone. I am at present confined to this floor of the Castle as I cannot manage the stairs.”
As Rosanna watched, Sir Walter strode forward and stood next to the Earl.
The very sight of his squat form, the broad shoulders straining at the seams of his tawny jacket and the strands of his greasy hair clinging to his thick freckled neck, made her feel sick and faint.
“I have it on good authority that a certain nurse, who I am very anxious to speak with, has come here to assist you.”
The Earl did not speak.
He just looked faintly bored.
After a moment, Sir Walter resumed,
“I have also learnt that the nurse arrived riding a small grey pony. I have, in fact, seen a similar pony today in your paddock. It is the only pony you have amongst your horses. It must have come from her house to the Castle, which is why I am here.”
There was a long silence and then the Earl spoke at last, in rather lofty, bored tones, the voice of a young aristocrat who could not be bothered to pay proper interest to his visitor, quite unlike his usual concise way of speaking.
“I think you must be referring to a woman who came to me for a day or so after I dismissed those who were sent from the local hospital. They seemed inefficient to me and I was recommended to a nurse who happened to be staying nearby with friends, breaking her journey south to the coast.”
Rosanna could see through her spy hole that the back of Sir Walter’s neck had gone bright red.
When he replied, his voice was curt and angry.
“The nurse who is attending you at the moment is, I understand, quite young and pretty and is not a real nurse, just pretending to be one.”
Again there was silence, before the Earl said,
“I am afraid, Sir Walter, that you have been misinformed. The nurse I engaged for a few days has now left. She asked me to stable her pony for her as she was going to France. Naturally she could not take it with her.”
“Do you expect me to believe that this particular young woman is no longer here at the Castle?”
“Damn it, man, you can believe what you choose. She was here for two nights and then she continued on her journey to France.”
Sir Walter drew in his breath.
“Are you telling me the truth? I find it hard to believe.”
Rosanna bit back a gasp.
This was tantamount to calling Lord Melton a liar!
Duels had been fought over such remarks and there was no way the Earl was fit enough to take on Sir Walter, even if he was a fine shot, which she was sure he would be.
She half rose from her chair.
This was
dreadful. She could not allow his health to be compromised in such a fashion. She cared too much for him. She would have to confront Sir Walter and cope with the consequences.
But the Earl was obviously not about to be pushed into any rash action by the older man.
“Sir Walter, I will ignore that last remark and pretend you did not say it. You are obviously upset and we all say things in moments of stress that we regret at a later date.
“But let me make it quite clear, you are wasting both your time and mine, sir. There is no nurse here at the Castle. I give you my word as a gentleman and if that is not enough for you, I shall be forced to take the matter further.”
Sir Walter’s face became contorted with fury and his voice was almost hoarse with anger.
“I suppose you know that although she was pretending to be a nurse, she is really Lady Rosanna Donnington, heiress to Sir Leonard Donnington, a great friend of your late father. She has disappeared from Donnington Hall in the most extraordinary and unusual circumstances.”
Lord Melton stood up and limped to the window, staring out across the Castle grounds.
“You must forgive me if I enquire why you are so anxious to find this lady – ”
“I am not only anxious, I am determined to do so,” Sir Walter snapped in tones that sounded worse because they were so cold.
“Lady Rosanna belongs to me. Do you hear? We are to be married next week. The church is booked, the date set. She will be my wife before the month ends!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sitting behind the ornamental screen, Rosanna bit back a scream.
She dug her fingers into her palms so hard that the nails almost broke her skin.
How dare Sir Walter speak like that?
Arrange their marriage without her consent. It was ridiculous. No one could be forced to marry against their will, surely?
But at the back of her mind, she felt a flicker of fear and doubt.
He was so ruthless, so strong. What if he drugged her with laudanum and she woke to find herself Lady Fenwick? She had read stories of girls being spirited off to Arabian countries as part of what she knew was called ‘the white slave trade’.
Love Rescues Rosanna Page 9