by Sahara Kelly
“You are too kind, Edmund. But I believe that with the support of the others, we shall manage quite nicely.”
“I will stay here as much as I can,” said Simon. “It will give me chance to have some walls painted at the Rectory.”
“And Hecate and I will find much to keep ourselves busy, I’m sure.” Letitia added her encouragement.
“Truthfully, Edmund? It’ll be nice to have the place to ourselves.” Hecate grinned. “A majority of ladies for once with no male interference.”
“Here now.” Simon blinked at his sister. “I resent that.”
She giggled. “You know what I mean.”
“Brat.” The Vicar threw a pillow at his youngest sibling.
Rosaline stood and walked to Edmund, placing her hand in his arm. “So it is decided. You will travel to London, taking the twins with you, and deal with the matter of the ship. I’ll make sure James knows to expect you.” She paused with a frown. “Should I write to this Aunt of yours, Kitty? Or will a note from Edmund suffice?”
“I’ll do it,” Edmund answered. “I know her a little, and you’ve not met yet. Better this come from me I think.”
“As you wish.”
Grateful to be spared the chore of penning a letter to a woman she’d never met, Rosaline gave a little sigh of relief. There would be much they could get accomplished once Edmund and the twins had departed.
It wasn’t that their presence was a nuisance, and heaven only knew how much she would miss her husband, it was more that the formal lack of the Baron’s presence would permit a little more flexibility in their schedules. The staff would understand were lunch to be served in one of the little parlors an hour later than usual.
Rosaline looked around as her husband walked her upstairs at the end of the evening. She’d come to feel at home here, in Ridlington Chase. And in quite a short space of time, too. Her management skills had been tested and not failed her; something of which she was most proud.
And the man next to her—well, he had become something indefinable. She had learned some of his ways, knew he placed a high value on his word, once given, and that he could be both tender and demanding as a lover.
She counted her blessings as he bade her good evening at her door, knowing he would come to her in a little while to share her bed…and her body.
A little tremor of excited anticipation made her shiver and she felt her breasts grow sensitive at the mere thought of his touch. He would take her, once…maybe twice. She would fly with him inside her, soaring into a vortex of passion that left her limp and satisfied. Each time, it was the same—they would take their pleasure in each other, then nestle together and fall into a deep and contented sleep.
She was indeed blessed.
But deep inside, a small voice whispered once again—something is missing.
*~~*~~*
While the plans seemed simple enough, it was of course impossible to accomplish them with ease. Had it been up to Edmund alone, he’d have been on the London road within twenty-four hours.
But the addition of Richard and Kitty, not to mention the necessity of waiting to hear from their Aunt Venetia—in all it was nearly a fortnight before the party actually waved farewell to Ridlington Chase and turned the carriages toward the Metropolis.
It had been decided to take a maid with them for Kitty and for propriety. Fortunately, Mabel from Fincham had mentioned family in London and thus was quite happy to take a seat in the baggage coach, act as Kitty’s maid, and accompany the Ridlington party to town. All without need for money, since she could not afford to travel that far on her own, and was thrilled to be offered the chance to go for free. Bartering at its finest, thought Edmund smugly.
Richard managed to pack and get himself together in reasonable time.
Edmund wasn’t sure what his half-brother expected to find in London, and sincerely prayed trouble wouldn’t find him.
“What are your plans?” Edmund had asked casually, one evening before their departure. They were alone in front of the fire, waiting for the rest of the family.
“They’re pretty loose,” grinned Richard. “But I have some acquaintances from my brief time at University. And we’ve kept in touch, so I shall hope to visit with them.”
Edmund tugged at his lower lip. “I’m not really in a position to offer advice, Richard. Nor do I have the town experience to properly set you up. I apologize for that.”
The statement was waved aside. “No matter, Edmund. Really. I am well aware of the traps that await the unsuspecting and innocent country visitors.” Richard’s face assumed a sober expression. “I lost one of those University friends to that sort of thing.”
“You did?” This was news to Edmund.
Richard nodded. “A good friend. Lured into games he could not afford and fleeced of what he had. His debts were overwhelming, his mother almost destitute…” He stared at the fire, as if seeing the images his words created. “It did not end well. Thankfully a relative took in his young sister. But neither he nor his mother survived. She became ill and never recovered and he…well, let’s just say that there’s nothing gentlemanly about that way out, but he apparently had no other choice.”
Edmund remained silent for a moment or two. “A cautionary tale indeed. Very sad, and I offer my sympathies for such a loss.”
Roused from his contemplative state, Richard looked up. “So you see, brother, there’s no risk of my making the same mistake.” A little twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Even though I have the Devil’s own luck at cards, I doubt anyone would want to take on Kitty. Plus I have an abhorrence for weapons of any kind. If I had a dueling pistol in my hand, odds are good I’d shoot out the chandelier by mistake.”
Edmund smiled, knowing that Richard was pulling his merry façade back into place. Perhaps it was a habit of his? Something Edmund had never noticed until this moment.
He sighed. How little he really knew about this family. And how much he had still to learn. Was it wise to remove the twins from the Chase at this point?
He posed the question to Rosaline as he slipped into her bed later that night.
“Am I mad to take them with me?”
She understood at once. “No, not at all.” Shifting a little, she tucked herself into her favorite position, her back snug against him and his arms around her.
He smiled a little at the comfortable and assured way she snuggled into his embrace. “So it’s a good idea then.”
She was silent for a few moments. “They want to go very much. And although the family is coming together now, under your guidance, they still need to find themselves, Edmund. Richard is a bright young man, with no definable goals. Kitty is a beauty who deserves the chance to meet more people than she will here at Ridlington.”
“You mean more men,” he sighed.
“She will need a husband,” agreed Rosaline. “She’s already quite advanced in years and has no dowry to speak of. It won’t be easy.” She pressed back against him with a little sigh of contentment. “But Kitty isn’t the type to carve her own path to individuality or independence. I do believe she will bloom into something magnificent, if she has the right someone beside her to lend a hand.”
Edmund’s palm drifted beneath his wife’s nightgown and caressed her smooth thigh. “I’m sure you’re right, my dear. After all, you bloom delightfully when I lend a hand…”
The spot he chose to touch brought a whimper to his wife’s lips and drove any thoughts of anyone else from both their minds.
By the time Edmund realized that he still hadn’t spoken of his feelings to his wife, it was too late…
Chapter Ten
“Well that’s that, then.” Letitia folded her arms and watched the small party make their way down the gravel driveway, bumping over the weeds that were starting to make their appearance with the spring temperatures.
“It is indeed.” Rosaline sighed as the carriage took her husband away from her side. They had shared a night of wild and passionate moments,
yet she had held back from sending him off on his adventure with words of love.
They were too hard for her to voice, since she’d had no experience with that tender emotion. She was afraid she’d get it wrong, and lose Edmund by saying something silly.
She sighed again as they walked away from the front door.
“Now we can relax a little.” Hecate sighed too. “I love my family, don’t mistake that. But oh goodness it is going to be delightful to be spared quite so many of them, all at once.”
Rosaline opened her mouth to refute that statement, then closed it again. In many ways she understood Hecate’s comment.
“Well I for one shall miss them. But,” Letitia turned to the other women with a smile, “I am inclined to agree with Hecate. And it will give us chance to go through those trunks of old clothing and linens that we discovered in that old cupboard above the conservatory. We’ve never had chance to dig around for treasures there.”
“Treasures?” Rosaline raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Damasks. Velvets that graced an Elizabethan noble. Jacquards and ermine.” Letitia waxed poetic, waving her arms around as they re-entered the house.
“Mouse droppings.” Hecate sighed.
“Hush.” Rosaline couldn’t help a smile. “Let’s allow Letitia her dreams. And I agree, it would be a good thing to sort through that stuff. I’ll ask Chidwell if he can have it brought down to the parlor. We’ll see to it after dinner.” She looked at her new sisters. “Is that acceptable?”
Letitia surprised her with a quick hug and kiss. “Truly you are the best of sisters-in-law. I’m not sure Edmund deserves you.” She danced off, skirts swishing behind her.
Hecate exchanged a glance with Rosaline. “She’ll be terribly disappointed.”
“Perhaps not,” answered Rosaline. “Perhaps the process of exploring is more important than the pot of gold at the end.”
“Or mouse droppings.”
Rosaline rolled her eyes. “Go, obnoxious child. I refuse to think of mouse droppings today. I have to catch up on some lists of supplies, talk to Mrs. Carter about chickens, and then meet with Cook to see about food. There will be no discussion of mice or their leavings.”
“We’ll see.” Hecate giggled and took herself off.
What she would be about this day, Rosaline couldn’t begin to imagine. Hecate had an absent air about her, but that was not to say her sister-in-law underestimated the powers of observation that lay beneath it.
Hecate was a mystery; a potentially beautiful young woman with no idea of her own attraction. She wore the air of otherworldliness like a comfortable gown, drifting here and there and only speaking now and again, or if something was on her mind. But her tasks were accomplished efficiently and Rosaline had no hesitation in asking Hecate to do something. She would, and she would do it well and on time.
If she chose to emphasize the magical in her world, that was fine with Rosaline. Everyone needed their own distinguishing characteristics. Hecate was her sister-in-law. She was family. And that made it all quite right in Rosaline’s opinion.
That opinion was confirmed after dinner when, in front of the fire in the small parlor, Letitia eagerly opened the first trunk.
“Ugh.”
“Let me guess,” Hecate snickered.
“Yes. All right, yes. Mouse droppings.”
Rosaline bit her lip against a laugh. “That’s why we have the old basket there. Wrap up whatever is soiled and put it in there for burning.”
Letitia did as she was bid, until she was satisfied that she could continue her explorations without further hindrance.
“No mice, I suppose?” Hecate sounded interested.
“No, not that I can see. All this is so very old, some chewed…” She held up a ratty piece of velvet that had clearly suffered serious depredations from the rodent occupants, “and some just old and musty.” She sighed, then sneezed.
“Don’t hover over that too long, Letitia. Breathing in all that dust? It cannot be beneficial.” Rosaline frowned.
“Oh, but look…” Reverently, she began to withdraw a piece of fabric which, when fully revealed and lit by the candles and the fireplace, glittered as if it held a thousand tiny stars.
“Good God.” Rosaline blinked. “What’s that?”
“A brocade, I think. Oh. It’s a cloak, or a large wrap.” She shook it out, gently, as if afraid it might fall into dust before their eyes.
“It’s lampas,” announced Hecate. “I’ve read of it. Silk, woven designs and enriched with gold. Somebody quite wealthy wore this a few generations ago.”
“Is there enough of it to use?” asked Rosaline.
“Maybe. Perhaps, I don’t know.” Letitia touched her finger to the fabric. “It is extraordinary.”
“Let’s put it aside then. Start a pile for that which we’d like to keep and the rest for burning.”
And so the evening passed in harmony as the three women rummaged through the leavings of previous generations, oohing and ahhing now and again, and bemoaning the damage wrought by time at others.
It resulted in a substantial heap of mostly-usable items, including—to Letitia’s joy—enough mouse-dropping free ermine to trim a winter pelisse.
“Now all we need is a proficient seamstress.” Rosaline could manage a basic stitch, mend a hole or repair a seam. But that was the extent of her knowledge.
“I can sew,” admitted Letitia, “but not well enough to use these fabrics properly.”
“Well, we didn’t find this little cache of history for nothing,” declared Hecate with certainty. “I have some lavender bags that will get rid of the musty smell. So we must let events take their course and see what the future provides.”
And that, realized Rosaline, was exactly that.
*~~*~~*
It was over a se’nnight before word came from London.
In the interim, Rosaline had procured several chickens for their empty hen house, at the cost of a small silver picture frame they had found in one of Letitia’s trunk explorations. And the first fresh eggs that began to arrive on the breakfast table made the loss worthwhile.
When the letter arrived, the three women were just finishing those same eggs.
“It always tastes better when it’s your own,” noted Letitia, patting her mouth with her napkin and smiling. “Do tell us, Rosaline. What does our brother write? Is all well in London?”
Rosaline quickly scanned the lines, and then nodded. “Indeed yes. It seems that James has all the paperwork well in hand, and your brother was able to take inventory. The ship is not only sound but a definite asset, he writes.” She blinked. “How can a ship possibly be an asset?”
There was no response, since both Letitia and Hecate realized that it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else.
“To continue, Edmund has decided…” she sucked in a breath, “…has decided to sail her home.”
She looked up to see two faces as stunned as her own must have been at that moment.
“Uh…” Letitia was at a loss for words.
“He’s bringing the ship home? Sailing down from London? Bloody marvelous.” Hecate clapped her hands in excitement.
“Bloody awful,” rejoined Rosaline, forgetting to comment on the language. “Where’s he going to dock? Do we have a place he can tie the ship up? Or whatever it is you do with ships when you don’t want ‘em wandering around on their own.”
Letitia blinked. “How long were you married to Captain Henry?”
Rosaline snorted. “He never spoke of maritime matters.”
“Obviously.”
“They will drop anchor off our beach, I expect, Rosaline. Depending on the size of the ship, there may be a small boat that they can lower into the ocean, and row up to the actual shoreline.”
“If not?”
“I don’t know. They’ll swim.”
“Oh good grief.” Rosaline closed her eyes. “This is absurd. Why on earth would Edmund bring home a damned ship?
What are we going to do with it?” Her mind flooded with thoughts of the expenses that might be incurred.
They’d just had the first of their own eggs, for God’s sake. And now a ship?
“Look, Edmund is first, foremost, and always has been, a sailor. He knows what he’s doing. Can you not trust him to make the right decision here?”
Hecate’s words penetrated Rosaline’s panic and served to calm her. “You’re right, of course. Edmund must know what he’s doing.”
“Did he say when they’d arrive? I’m guessing James will come too?” Letitia’s question was casual.
Rosaline scanned the rest of the letter. “He’s saying that they’ll be here in a fortnight if all goes according to plan. And yes, James is planning on sailing with him.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Edmund says he believes James is going to make an attempt to conquer his dislike of the ocean.”
“How brave of him.” Letitia smiled as well.
A little something tickled at Rosaline’s brain, but any attempt to pursue it vanished as Chidwell entered the room.
“I beg your pardon, my Lady. But there is a person who wishes to speak with you.”
“A person, Chidwell?”
“Yes, my Lady. I have asked him to wait below stairs.”
“Oh dear.” Rosaline frowned. “That sort of person. Do I know him?”
“It’s Tom Farnwell, Ma’am.”
“Oh, well in that case, of course. I would like to know how he is coming along after that unpleasant business.” She rose. “I think it would probably be best if you ask him to join me in my husband’s study, Chidwell.”
“Are you sure, my Lady? He’s not the most savory resident of Ridlington, as you know. Being prone to bullet wounds and heaven knows what else.” A brief expression of worry crossed the butler’s face.
“You shall stand guard outside if it makes you feel better,” she smiled.
“It will, my Lady.”