Rose

by Conrad, Angela

  Simon had received a stern speech from Lord Sandhurst before they made this trip. He was a powerful man that could ruin a second baron’s son as easily as changing his collar. Simon was conflicted. He had never been a man of fast decisions, but he made one now and followed Janet up the back stairs.

  ……….

  “Rose,” Janet cried. “This one wants to talk to you.”

  With that Janet closed the chamber door and ran.

  Rose turned, wondering what Janet meant and saw a tall man standing beside her bed.

  They stared at each other. Rose really looked at him for the first time. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes a light green. He was tall and muscled and smelled wonderful. His chin was covered in light whiskers and he looked uncomfortable.

  “Why are you here? Are you going to help me carry down my things?” Rose asked.

  “No.”

  “What? You’re not going to try and stop me, tell father I’m leaving?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?” Rose whispered.

  Simon had not stood this close to Rose before. She was mesmerizing. Her tall female form, so endowed in just the right places made his mouth dry. Her eyes, so dark lined with black lashes, they drew him in, like sunlight onto a black stone. Her face so beautiful, perfect in proportion, she was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Simon knew in that moment he would agree to or do anything asked of him, to have Rose.

  “I’ve two ideas,” Simon said, letting his emotion rule him. “You’re compromised by me just being in this bedroom with you. We could put on a show and your father would have to let us marry right away or we could run, but that would be useless. He’d find us and make us marry. All that running at night, the risks; both ideas have the same end.”

  “Marry me? I don’t even remember your name. Would you do that, so I wouldn’t have to accept an old man?”

  “Yes, I would do anything to have you Rose. I’m Simon Bainbridge, five and twenty, from a noble family, a man of some means. I would take care of you, protect you.”

  “What about after? Would you leave me somewhere like father did to my mother?”

  “No, never.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d never want to lose you. I’m nothing like your father. His beauty has rotted his soul. He’s spoiled and willful, I know him well and though I call him a friend, I do not admire him.”

  Again they stood and stared. Famous pewter eyes into light green, he gazed down at her figure, as if he could not believe it was real. Rose went to the bed and sat down.

  “Just days ago I swore never to marry a gentleman. How did everything change so fast?” Rose muttered to herself.

  “Just days ago I talked to your father about you. I knew you’d be beautiful, look at him. I asked to come here, I wanted to see you and when I did, I knew I wanted you.”

  “Did you tell father?” Rose asked, cynically wondering if the handsome young man was involved in a plan her father had devised.

  “He told me I was not to have you. He wants someone higher, richer.”

  Simon could have said nothing stronger to strengthen his case than that.

  “Alright.”

  “What? You’ll marry me?” Simon asked, holding his breath.

  “I didn’t say that. I don’t know. I believe you about father’s orders to you.”

  Sounds came from down the hallway. His brother’s voice and the viscounts. Simon reached around her and undid her braid, letting her blonde hair fall loose to her waist. He reached around and unhooked the back of her gown and turned her onto the bed.

  “Go along with me. Confirm whatever I say,” ordered Simon Bainbridge, who laid her down and reclined half on top of her. Then he lowered his head and had his first taste of Rose’s soft lips. She was unpracticed, innocent, but enticing.

  Rose wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, as his first kiss was very inspiring. He tangled his arms and legs with hers and rolled her over him.

  He tasted like brandy and his scent attracted her like a flower to rain. Rose turned in his arms and pressed herself against him. So encouraged, Simon kissed her with rising passion and taking her head in his large hands, he held her still and pressed his tongue into her mouth.

  They continued to kiss wildly, as the voices grew louder and Janet’s country accent blended with two deep London tones.

  “Her room is just here your lordship, but I don’t think she’s inside,” Janet cried loudly, in a stage shout.

  The door opened wide and three startled voices all spoke at once.

  “Great God!” The viscount yelled.

  “Damn it!” Stanley lamented.

  “Rose!” Janet cried.

  The couple continued to kiss until her father grabbed Simon’s arm and pulled him back from his daughter.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Lord Sandhurst hissed.

  “I’m going to marry Rose and you’re going to let me,” Simon replied, still dazed from her kisses and determined now, ten times stronger than he was but minutes before. His face flushed, his body hard, he’d never felt so elated by desire in his life.

  ..........

  Rose was still on her bed. She never dreamed this part of marriage could be so nice. She felt as if she was plunged under warm water and did not want to rise. It felt wonderful to feel liked, strongly hugged, and wanted. Something her parents never gave her and Rose smiled up at the three startled guests and did as Simon instructed, she played along.

  “Father, too late now I’m compromised and I must marry Simon.”

  Lord Sandhurst was clever if not kind and he understood the ruse.

  “You’re not compromised daughter, I see this for what it is. A little tossing about for my benefit, but it won’t wash Simon. No London gossip caught you, but we three blind simpletons oblivious to anything wrong. Not a word of this will ever be spoken, correct?”

  Janet looked afraid for her post and agreed.

  Stanley replied, “Certainly not, a gallant effort Simon, but nothing happened here I witnessed.”

  “Your lordship, if I might have a word?” Simon asked, his voice deep and harsh.

  “No Simon you may not. While I appreciate your initiative in going after what you want, perhaps even foolishly thinking you were helping a damsel in distress, you will no longer be needed to save Rose. I thought you understood my intent. I see you do not. We will talk again.”

  The last three sentences grew terser and stronger and Rose felt the meanness her father held tightly inside seeping to the surface, exposing his rage.

  “I still want to marry her. You can forget what you saw, I cannot forget what I feel. I want to marry Rose,” Simon demanded, standing his ground.

  “No more conversation until I speak to Rose,” the viscount ordered. He turned to his daughter and took her cold hands.

  “I have been thinking Rose. Perhaps I was a little high-handed making premature plans. Come downstairs with me and we will talk.”

  Lord Sandhurst waved the Bainbridge brothers away, as if they were flies. Janet rushed to hook Rose’s gown and braid her hair again.

  “You and I will talk later Simon. Don’t think to overrule me,” Lord Sandhurst hissed, his beautiful grey eyes sharp as a rapier.

  The brothers left, one more reluctantly than the other. Simon stalled in the bedroom doorway and met Rose’s eyes. He winked and smiled. Rose smiled back. He wanted to talk to her, but her father was watching him carefully, so he turned and left, waiting for a better opportunity.

  Ten minutes later, Rose walked sedately down to the manor’s small library where she saw Lord Sandhurst standing in the doorway. She was apprehensive. Simon’s embraces and kisses still burning a response inside of her. Rose had little desire to talk to her cold father, a stranger, about her feelings.

  Rose entered and they both sat, him with his brandy, her with a sad smile and they gazed into each other’s identical eyes.

  “I haven’
t been a father at all, let me make up for such a grievous slight. Rose, you won’t ever have to settle for someone old or ugly. Look in a mirror daughter, you could capture the handsomest lords in the realm. Come with me to London. You, a viscount’s daughter, a Sandhurst, and I will place a dowry with you too. You choose the gentleman.”

  “Until you arrived, I desired no gentleman or marriage at all.”

  “What then? Do you plan to stay here and live with a mother who resents your beauty? Lucy is vindictive because she’s jealous you know. My leaving hurt her pride, then to have a daughter that resembles me and surpasses her in every way, well, it’s made Lucy spiteful.”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh yes, if there is one entity I comprehend, it’s an envious woman. Now come, you can’t stay here a spinster. That would be a crime against nature, a talented racehorse not allowed to run, a superior ship never to sail, you must be presented and seen by the ton Lady Rose Sandhurst.”

  “How can I trust you? What will stop you from engaging me to an old rich man? Why you could place me in peril, choose someone cruel, or neglectful.”

  “My word is not enough? I understand. How about a note, a promise, witnessed?”

  “Alright.”

  For Rose had little choice now. Her mother wanted her gone and she could not live alone. She had no fortune, but her father would offer a dowry.

  “Father, would you state in this note the amount of the dowry? Just knowing I have worth other than my figure and face would reassure me.”

  “Of course my dear. I hope this won’t be awkward, but he is my man of affairs, or was,” Lord Sandhurst said and rang for a servant.

  “Bring Simon Bainbridge down here,” he ordered.

  ……….

  Simon ignored his brother’s anger, flying too high with his emotions to care.

  “I can’t believe you went to her bedchamber. Sandhurst said nothing about you having Rose,” Stanley grumbled.

  “Her maid came and got me.”

  “Her maid? How did she pick which one of us to talk to?”

  “I looked up at her first I guess.”

  “Are you telling me, by some stupid quirk of a maid’s glance, you were chosen to go upstairs and lay on a bed with Rose?”

  “Yes. The maid asked me if I wanted to help Rose and I said yes. Then she suggested I marry her because otherwise Rose was running away. So, I asked Rose to marry me.”

  “You didn’t? What did she say?”

  “She has not agreed yet, but I’m hopeful,” Simon smiled and looked like he’d found a treasure, tripped over a pot of gold, and drank a bottle of brandy all at the same time.

  “You stupid ass. Lord Sandhurst would not honor her wishes, even if she agrees. You know him. He shoots high.”

  “I’ll make him approve of me. I’m making Rose Sandhurst mine and no one’s going to stop me.”

  “Don’t set your heart yet, you know the viscount is shrewd, cunning, and he can be ruthless when deceived. I wouldn’t trust his word any more than Lady Lucy does.”

  A knock sounded on Simon’s bedchamber door and on opening it, a servant instructed him to go to the library per his lordship’s instructions.

  “I don’t know if I wish you luck, or a set down. Just be careful Simon, Lord Sandhurst can be a dangerous enemy,” Stanley warned.

  “I know, I’ve worked with him. I know how he thinks, his deceptions and undercurrents. I’ll be careful, but wish me luck of Rose, for if you ever desired to see your brother happy, she is the way.”

  “You’re going only by looks, what of her manner, her heart?” Stanley asked.

  “I’ve tasted her kisses, there’s no misjudging that. I’ve got to go down, no use making him angrier.”

  “Good luck then Simon. I think you are a fool to play this game.”

  ……….

  Rose was anxious to see Simon again. Would his heart waver under father’s pressure? She knew nothing about him except he was a marvelous kisser, but she had no comparison. What if all gentlemen kissed that way, or better?

  Lord Sandhurst was rubbing his bristled jaw, deep in thought. Often he would glance at Rose and groan. She could practically see the wheels turning in his glorious head.

  Simon entered and Rose gave a sigh of her own, remembering his touch and the feel of his lips on hers. He looked strong and determined. He had not wavered and she was glad.

  Lord Sandhurst noticed the looks the two younger people exchanged, and a new inspiration surfaced in his head. Perhaps a better idea?

  “Have a seat Simon,” his lordship ordered. “I need you as my man of affairs. Take my desk, parchment and pen, for I mean to dictate a promise to my daughter Rose.”

  Simon raised his eyebrow, but did as he was told. When ready, he nodded and Lord Sandhurst began.

  “I, Lord Gerald Sandhurst promise the following agreement with my daughter Lady Rose Sandhurst.

  1.) She will be given a dowry of twenty five thousand pounds.

  2.) She will be allowed to choose her husband, though he must be of English nobility, healthy in fortune, reputation, and family connections.

  3.) An engagement will be announced by the end of this Season, 1814 in the Times, with banns.

  4.) If no gentleman of good standing asks for her hand however, Rose will marry her father’s choice.

  5.) All the above agreed to by both parties, and if broken, the dowry is forfeit.”

  “That should do it, what say you Rose, will that serve?”

  Rose had a vision of the devil, sitting on a brimstone rock and rubbing his hands together. Demons jumping about his hairy legs, saliva dripping from his mouth, and she was afraid. She looked at Simon and he carefully shook his head in the negative.

  “No father, take out number four. That trips me right back to you picking a nobleman in his dotage and I will not do it.”

  She glanced at Simon and he winked at her courage, standing up to this impressive lord and father was not an easy action.

  “Not number four? But that’s just a safeguard so you will be taken care of,” her father offered, all sweet smile and nod.

  Now she knew he was deceptive, for he thought her a ninny if she did not see what he was after.

  “Also, number three, the part about ‘healthy in fortune, reputation, and family connections,’ who is to decide?”

  He smiled, proud she did not fall immediately in line and Rose took heart, he wasn’t so bad, if a person trusted him less than a stray dog.

  “As your father, I will,” he replied.

  “Then I will think on it, for it grows late and I’m tired. Perhaps tomorrow we will meet again and resolve this.”

  “For every day you delay, your dowry drops five thousand pounds,” her father slipped in softly, knowing people were always motivated by money.

  The threat seemed to craw inside her, like an icy breeze. It ran down her arms and stopped in her stomach. Rose looked into those same sparkling eyes and challenged him right back.

  “Let it go to zero then, for if I cannot find a gentleman to love me in three months, I will not buy one.”

  He stirred in his chair and mocked a reply.

  “You are more like me than just your hair and eyes Rose. Beware Simon, this lady thinks.”

  ……….

  CHAPTER FOUR

  London

  Lord Sandhurst Town House

  Residence of Viscount Sandhurst

  8 Mount Street

  London, England

  Spring 1814

  Rose was dazzled by the wealth her father’s townhouse displayed. The Aubusson rugs, Francois Boucher paintings of beautiful women in frivolous pastimes, quality cabinet woods, and carved cornice. The priceless mirrors by Gibbons, carved, gilded, and covered in reproduced motifs of leaves, flowers, and fruit. Numerous mirrors, every movement reflected on opposite wall, it was like being inside a prism of crystal. How her father must enjoy seeing himself from every angle, nothing hidden; everything display
ed and admired. His townhouse was a jewelry box designed to enhance the prize inside, himself.

  Rose could not help but compare it to the small, simple manor house she had lived in and now understood her mother’s feelings of being slighted and neglected. What a change of worlds Lady Lucy Sandhurst had been forced into, and how cruel of her father to arrange it.

  After being introduced, invited to balls and assemblies, navigated about on Lord Sandhurst’s arm, shown off as if she were a five carat emerald ring or a winning racehorse, Rose knew being married to an elderly nobleman would be a lifetime of just this. She would be a statement, a conquest, a coveted trophy in which a peer could say, “Come and gaze on my beautiful wife, my possession, she’s mine, just mine.”

  Her father was obvious in his attempts to keep Simon Bainbridge away, but everywhere Rose was invited, he was there too. No matter how many gentlemen she met, grandly dressed, courtly and polite, Rose saw little she craved.

  A group of highly dressed nobles always watched her from the corner at every ball. Their dress was dandified, their stance proud, and their eyes sly. Why, one even wore a beauty mark above his lip and had a bow tying his hair back, long and over his shoulder. Sometimes they would snicker, drawing attention to themselves, as other guests deferred to them. They possessed wealth, for their jewelry glistened in the candlelight and the fabric of their waistcoats was covered in embroidery, so delicate it must have taken months to complete. They all wore slippers with heels decorated with symbols and paintings.

  Then there was a group of last decade’s noblemen, still with their lace and snuff. They carried fancy canes, wore long flowing cuffs, and tied their hair long at their neck. Some still wore satin breeches and long tailed coats.

  Another grouping leaned about and watched. They looked jaded and wild. Many of them sat long hours in the card room, during every ball. The term, ‘fortune hunter’ floated about them, as older women passed by. They each directed a hungry gaze at Rose, not bothering to hide their desire. They hunted wealth and they caught her scent and trailed it.