by Laura Martin
* * *
Thomas pulled at his cravat and sighed. Despite being back in his family home surrounded by servants who were at his beck and call he still didn’t have a valet. He didn’t want one, didn’t want to share his daily rituals with a stranger, but he couldn’t deny a valet would come in handy when faced with a cravat.
‘Tell me again how he seemed,’ Rosa said, slipping up behind him and looping her arms around his waist. Thomas felt a strange contentment as he allowed Rosa to spin him round and felt her dexterous fingers deftly pulling the cravat into shape.
‘Nervous,’ Thomas said, thinking back to the unassuming, quiet man he had met briefly at the inn.
‘Did he look well?’
Thomas hesitated, recalling the dark circles around Rosa’s father’s eyes and the clothes that didn’t seem to fit properly.
‘You’ll be able to judge for yourself in a few minutes,’ he said, inspecting his neatly tied cravat in the mirror in front of him.
He watched as Rosa paced nervously backwards and forward across the room, halting only to peer out of the window every so often.
‘And you’re sure my mother wasn’t with him?’
‘Completely sure.’
Thomas could see the anxiety in Rosa’s eyes and realised how important this evening was for her. When she’d talked of her parents she’d always recalled her father with love and fondness. He knew she was still hurting from being sent away by her mother and her father not stepping in to put a stop to the plan.
‘He’s here,’ Rosa said, leaning into the window to catch a glimpse of her father.
‘Are you ready?’ Thomas asked.
She nodded, but didn’t look in the least bit ready.
‘Remember I am here, no matter what happens this evening.’
Rosa looked up at him with silent gratitude and Thomas felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He hadn’t realised quite how much Rosa had burrowed into his heart these last few months. They had gone from unlikely companions to so much more. He knew he couldn’t have made a better choice for his wife, although he did worry he was beginning to care for her maybe too much. On occasions like tonight he felt every inch of her anxiety and worry as if it were his own and he wanted to protect her from anything that threatened to hurt her.
They walked down the stairs and heard soft voices coming from the drawing room. Thomas’s mother had agreed to take on the official role of hostess for their small dinner party, leaving Rosa free to try to mend the rift between her and her father.
Pushing open the door, Thomas led Rosa inside, noting the increased pressure on his arm as she gripped him a little harder. The conversation between Rosa’s father and Thomas’s mother petered out as father and daughter laid eyes on each other. For a moment it was as if the whole room was frozen in time and then Rosa slipped from his side and threw herself into her father’s arms.
‘Papa,’ she said as he embraced her, his entire face lighting up with delight.
‘My little Rosa. I have missed you terribly.’
He drew back from her, held her at arm’s length and regarded her. ‘How you’ve changed these last few months.’
Thomas stiffened, ready to jump to Rosa’s defence if her father even thought about uttering a harsh word.
‘You look so healthy, and so happy.’ There were tears in the old man’s eyes as Rosa took both of his hands in her own and squeezed them.
‘I am happy, Papa,’ Rosa said quietly.
Thomas felt the stab of guilt in his gut. She was happy—they both were. There was no denying it. However much he tried to pretend he wasn’t thoroughly enjoying domestic life, he knew it was a lie. He loved being married to Rosa, loved how she offered sage words of wisdom over the running of the estate he was just re-familiarising himself with, loved how they laughed together all day long, and loved the closeness when they fell into bed side by side at night.
He often found himself wishing that this part of their lives could stretch on for ever—that they could continue to live this carefree existence without the ever-present worry of his family illness.
‘This is my husband, Papa. Lord Hunter.’
‘We had the pleasure of meeting earlier today,’ Thomas said, stepping forward to shake his father-in-law’s hand.
‘Rosa, my dear, before we say anything further there is something I must talk to you about.’
Thomas saw Rosa’s face drop and stepped closer, wondering how he might shield her from any potential bad news.
‘I have been an awful father to you,’ Mr Rothwell said, his face a picture of misery and regret. ‘I should never have let your mother send you to Italy to stay with that wretched family of hers. I failed you when you needed me the most.’
‘Papa, there’s no need...’
‘There’s every need. I am not a strong man, not forceful in my personality, but I knew you needed me to stand up for you and I cowered away, taking the easy path. I have regretted it for every moment since.’
‘I forgive you, Papa,’ Rosa said quickly, looking pained by her father’s distress.
Thomas saw the tears slip out of the older man’s eyes as Rosa embraced him and heard Rosa sniff some back of her own.
‘Come,’ Thomas’s mother said quietly, ‘dinner is served. Please take your time and follow when you are ready.’
Thomas waited for Rosa to enter the room on her father’s arm, pulled out her chair and ensured she was comfortable before taking his own seat.
‘Papa, where is Mother?’ Rosa asked softly as the first course was placed in front of them.
Reaching for Rosa’s hand under the table, Thomas gave it a quick squeeze.
Mr Rothwell grimaced. ‘We have been leading separate lives since you were sent to Italy,’ he said. ‘Your mother resides in London, I spend most of my time in our country house. I haven’t seen her for many weeks now.’ He paused as if considering whether to say more. ‘And I must say we’re both much happier for it. But enough about me and your mother—that is an ongoing saga no one wishes to hear about. Tell me how you two met.’
Thomas sat back and listened as Rosa recounted their early relationship, laughing as she recalled how she’d flattened him on the road outside the Di Mercurios’ villa and been lured into the wise woman’s house on their journey to Venice. So much had happened in the four months since he’d first met Rosa, so much in his life had changed, yet one thing, this disease he might or might not have, was still hanging over him.
‘I hope I can be a good grandfather to your child, my dear,’ Mr Rothwell said as the conversation turned to the baby.
‘You should come to stay once Rosa has recovered from the birth. If that is what you wish, Rosa?’ Thomas’s mother suggested.
‘I would love that, Papa.’
Mr Rothwell beamed, pure joy in his eyes, and Thomas realised that whatever the older man’s faults he loved his daughter and her unborn child unconditionally.
‘Come, Rosa,’ Thomas’s mother said as they finished their dessert. ‘Take a stroll with me along the patio.’
Standing, Thomas watched his wife exit through the doors on to the veranda that they’d thrown open part way through the meal due to the balminess of the evening.
‘Whisky?’ Thomas offered as he crossed to the side board, picking up two glasses.
‘Yes, please.’
Thomas poured two glasses of whisky and led his father-in-law through to his study. In Thomas’s mind it was the most comfortable room in the house, with two soft leather armchairs positioned by the fire, which thankfully today did not need to be lit.
‘I need to thank you as well, Lord Hunter,’ Mr Rothwell said as they both settled back into the armchairs.
He waited for the older man to go on, regarding him with curiosity.
‘I know how
much you have done for my daughter over the last few months. I dread to think what would have happened to her if you hadn’t found her when you did.’
The myriad dangers for a woman travelling alone played out quickly in Thomas’s mind. Rosa had been so desperate to escape from the Di Mercurios that she hadn’t properly considered the consequences of her running away.
‘Any gentleman would have done the same.’
Mr Rothwell shook his head. ‘Many gentlemen are scoundrels, or just not interested in anything other than themselves.’
He couldn’t argue with that. Thomas had come across many so-called gentlemen in his time. Often the ones with the loftier titles were the most selfish and uninterested in others.
‘I also want to thank you for marrying Rosa, you’ve saved her from a lifetime of hurt and pain. I am well aware I do not know the full circumstances around your marriage, but I thank you for the benefits it confers on my daughter. She has suffered enough.’
Thomas nodded. From the very beginning he had repeated all the advantages their union held for Rosa, it had been his way of convincing himself he was doing it all for her and not himself. He felt strangely comfortable with this kindly older man, as if he could tell him anything, unburden all his secrets and regrets.
‘When I first proposed to your daughter I told myself it was to save her from ruin. To protect her from the heartache of being shunned by everyone she had ever known, to protect her child from growing up under the cloud of illegitimacy.’
‘That is a very selfless reason to propose.’
‘I also wanted a wife to protect my interests at home and a companion for my mother. Someone who I could bring back to England and leave here to oversee the parts of my life I wanted to run away from,’ he confessed, swirling his whisky around his glass.
‘You weren’t planning on staying with her?’
Thomas heard the shock in Mr Rothwell’s voice and knew Rosa’s father probably wasn’t the best man to confide in when it came to his marital dilemmas, despite his kindly demeanour.
Mr Rothwell sighed. ‘Do you know I was madly in love with Rosa’s mother when we first met? She was so beautiful, so exotic, so different from all the debutantes my parents pushed in front of me. I even thought her disdain for me was exciting, a challenge to be overcome.’
Thomas couldn’t imagine pursuing a woman who actively disliked him, but everyone was different.
‘When she agreed to marry me I thought the disdain had all been an act, part of her ploy to keep me interested. I thought once we were married things would be different between us.’
From the snippets Rosa had told him Thomas knew this hadn’t been the case. It sounded as though Rosa’s mother had disliked her father every day they’d been together.
‘It wasn’t different. She never loved me, never even liked me. At the time her family were in a dire financial situation so she was sent out to marry well. She’d always dreamed of a title, to be Lady Elena, but no one with a title was foolish enough to take her on, so she had to settle for me.’
‘Does Rosa know all this?’
‘Mostly. Elena has a terrible temper. She says the most hurtful things when in a rage.’
Thomas regarded the man sitting across from him sipping at his whisky. Rosa was certainly not like her mother, her disposition was sweet and kind, but she wasn’t entirely like her father either.
‘Perhaps our lives would have been better if we’d resided in separate countries,’ he mused, smiling softly. ‘Anyway, I suppose the point I was trying to make, is that all marriages are complicated.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the empty fireplace in the dwindling evening light.
‘She loves you, did you know that?’ Mr Rothwell said eventually.
Thomas nodded. He did know it. He’d known it ever since she’d been so hurt when he’d rejected her in the bedchamber in Venice. Only a woman in love would be quite so pained by the rejection. And every day since their return to England he’d seen that love blossom and grow, thrilled to be the recipient of that love and petrified that he would break her heart.
‘Whatever the reason for wanting to lead a separate life to Rosa, just remember that she loves you. And I’m told the love of a good woman is nothing to be sneered at.’
‘I don’t want to hurt her.’
‘Then don’t leave her.’
Thomas shook his head. ‘I’m worried I will hurt her more if I stay. If we build a life together, raise our child and allow ourselves to be happy, then it will be all that much worse when something bad happens.’
‘What will happen?’
Thomas remained silent. He wasn’t quite ready to tell anyone else of the family curse just yet, especially the man whose daughter had just married into the family.
When no reply was forthcoming Mr Rothwell pressed on. ‘How certain are you that this awful event is going to happen?’ he asked.
‘There is no way of knowing.’
‘So you are giving up a future of happiness for something that may never occur.’
‘But it may do.’
‘If it were me,’ Mr Rothwell said slowly, as if still pondering his words, ‘I would want to do everything in my power to be sure one way or the other before condemning myself to a life of misery.’ The older man stood, crossed to his chair and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. ‘Both you and Rosa deserve that.’
* * *
Half an hour later the room was becoming so dark it was getting difficult to see, but still Thomas hadn’t moved. He felt paralysed with indecision and it was as uncomfortable as it was unfamiliar.
He didn’t want to condemn Rosa to a life of misery, of course he didn’t, and he knew after a few months without him she would settle into a comfortable routine, especially with the baby to keep her company. He, on the other hand, would be miserable for ever without her. No matter where he went, which exotic countries he travelled to and which wonders he immersed himself in, he would know what his life could be like with Rosa. Nothing could compare to the simple pleasures of the last few weeks.
Decisively he stood. He still couldn’t make the final commitment to stay here with Rosa just yet, but he would take Mr Rothwell’s advice, he would consult a doctor about his family’s disease, get a better idea of what might face him and the odds that he would develop it, and then work out if he could follow his heart and stay.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘He’s left?’ Rosa asked, hating the tremor in her voice.
‘He didn’t tell you?’ Sarah asked, eyes wide with surprise. ‘He didn’t tell me either.’
‘He came and kissed my cheek this morning, but I was half-asleep. I don’t think he said anything.’
Rosa’s mother-in-law took her hand and squeezed it softly. ‘I’m sure he isn’t gone for good.’
‘Last night, after my father left, he was very quiet, very pensive. I asked him what was troubling him, but he didn’t really give me an answer.’
Instead he’d pulled her into bed with him, told her not to waste her energy worrying about him and tenderly made love to her. Rosa had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep afterwards and barely remembered her husband rising and bidding her farewell early in the morning.
‘He doesn’t seem to have taken much with him,’ Rosa added, hopefully.
Surely he wouldn’t abandon her like this, without saying goodbye. She knew he was still planning on leaving one day, but he’d given no indication that day was drawing near.
* * *
Rosa spent the rest of the morning curled up on one of the armchairs in Thomas’s study with a book. She had less than a month to go in her pregnancy now and even the exertion of getting up and getting dressed each morning took its toll. Each time the baby inside her kicked Rosa smiled, loving the littl
e signs of life.
After a couple of hours in the study Rosa felt much more relaxed, but sitting in one position had made her back ache more than normal. Hauling herself to her feet, Rosa started to stroll through the hallways, taking time to admire the paintings on the walls. She laughed at the stern visages of Thomas’s ancestors and delighted in the beautiful landscapes, all the time, using one hand to massage her lower back.
A sharp pain made her stop and hang on to the back of a conveniently positioned chair just as Thomas’s mother emerged from the drawing room.
Immediately the older woman was at her side, guiding her down into the chair and calling for one of the maids.
‘What is wrong my dear?’ Sarah asked, her face clouded with concern.
‘I’m sure I’ve just twisted awkwardly,’ Rosa said, sure of no such thing. ‘I’ve got an aching pain in my back and sharper pains coming round the front.’
‘Betty, go and fetch two of the footmen and ask Mr Timkins to come here, too.’
The young maid scurried off to find the footmen and the butler as Rosa felt Sarah’s hands rest softly on her bump.
A few seconds later the pain started again, a faint tightening sensation accompanying it.
‘I am no doctor, but I think it may be time.’
Rosa shook her head. The baby couldn’t be coming yet—she wasn’t ready.
Two footmen emerged into the hallway and quickly Sarah instructed them to carry Rosa upstairs.
‘I’m sure I can walk,’ Rosa protested, trying to stand.
Another pain gripped her as she moved and Rosa fell back into the chair, closing her eyes as if trying to block out the discomfort.
‘Upstairs,’ Sarah ordered.
Rosa felt the chair being lifted slowly and then the soft rocking as the two footmen carried her through the hall and up the stairs. Clutching the seat with both hands, Rosa gripped so hard her knuckles turned white, only letting go as the chair was placed gently on the floor in her bedroom.