A Refuge for Rosanna

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A Refuge for Rosanna Page 18

by Susan Karsten


  Melissa gave her opinion, too. “The clues were excellent. Each time I deciphered one, I kicked myself for not seeing sooner what you were driving at.”

  “Indeed, once solved, they were crystal clear.” Lord Russell patted his wife’s hand. “Easy for us to say, now, isn’t that right, darling?”

  Dot bustled into the room and froze in her tracks. She looked down at the single cup and saucer in her hands, then up at the roomful of guests.

  “Bring that here, Dot. It’s fine.” Rosanna accepted the cup and set it down on a nearby table. Drat. She couldn’t drink the concoction and her head pounded worse than ever.

  Relief came in the form of Lord Winstead speaking up, almost as if he perceived her discomfort. “This has been a lovely evening like no other, but the hour is late and the travelers,” he nodded toward the Russells, “must be off early tomorrow, if I’m not mistaken. So, I shall be saying my ‘goodbyes’.” He bowed to all the guests, then to Rosanna, lifted her hand to his lips, and bowed over it without an actual kiss.

  His warm hand sent an electric throb up that side of her body and a tingle shot down her legs. How scandalous of me. I must get control. When he let go, he backed away, eyes averted. She stood up to receive parting comments from the other three gentlemen.

  “I thank you, Miss Cabot, for a most diverting evening. The dinner, delicious, the company, delightful. I shall see you Friday as we discussed.” Mr. Clough raised his eyebrows, glanced smiling at Miss Barton and then bowed, once toward each lady present, before exiting the room.

  Perkins appeared in the doorway, chin up, standing stiff and ready to hand the men their hats, and show them the door.

  Carrying on as if he were on stage, handsome Lord Halburt orated his parting words. “You’ve surely made the Scotts’ evening memorable. I’ll bring them over tomorrow so they can see the house in daylight.”

  “Certainly, I’m sure.” Rosanna was flummoxed, and at a loss for words at the temerity of Halburt. “You forestalled me. I was about to invite the Scotts to join me for tea tomorrow at their convenience.”

  She reached out and clasped Miss Scott’s hand, and then offered her hand to the courtly Mr. Scott, who beamed and bowed over it. After bowing he addressed her. “Ah, lass, to see this delightful, noble home in the light of day would be charming, but ‘twill have to be upon another trip. My daughter and I are leaving at first light. Thank you for your hospitality.” He offered his arm to his daughter and moved regally out into the hall.

  Halburt, taken by surprise at the abrupt turn of events, scurried along behind the illustrious man of letters.

  The door closed behind him, and a collective sigh of relief could be heard.

  Ellie let out a giggle and then her fingers shot up to cover her mouth. Guilt and amusement warred on her face.

  Lord Russell took his wife’s hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow. “We have a long journey tomorrow, so we shall depart from this charming party.”

  With all the goodnights said, Ellie and Miss Barton sat back in a group of chairs near the fire.

  Rosanna joined them there. Even though she sensed a contemplative mood, she took a sip of her now-tepid medicinal tea and broke the silence. She glanced at Barton, then gazed at Ellie, as though she’d have the answer. “What could Lord Halburt have been doing coming out of a bedroom upstairs?”

  40

  Ellie sat up straight. “A bedroom? You specifically made bedrooms off limits.”

  Miss Barton gave a derisive sniff, folded her arms across her chest, and raised her chin. “That man, such an interloper. I’ve never seen the like. As handsome-looking as can be, but so off-putting.”

  While watching Ellie for any revealing reaction, Rosanna added fuel to the fire. “He didn’t see me, but I observed him leaving the Lilac Room.” Nothing but shock on Ellie’s face told Rosanna the young lady had no knowledge of Halburt’s visit to her room. She hadn’t really believed Ellie to be complicit, but had wanted to make sure.

  “That man is so pushy. To intrude into a private area of a home is beyond rude.” Ellie rubbed her arms as though a chill passed over her. “Did you say the Lilac Room? That’s my room. I’d like to know why he went into my room. Did he go into any others?”

  A chill of fear raced up Rosanna’s spine. “Not that I saw. He scooted away down the back stair after he closed the door to your room.” The man’s behavior wore the shape of a sinister puzzle—one with missing pieces. First, he’d almost insisted she plan a treasure hunt. After all, if he liked them so much, why didn’t he host one at his own house?

  Miss Barton pounded her fist on the arm of her chair, and spoke with decisiveness. “Rosanna, please forego inviting that man here again if at all possible.”

  “Miss Barton, he won’t be invited by me, but he has shown himself not above arriving here at his good pleasure.” Rosanna clasped her hands in her lap, and shivered. “I will instruct Perkins to say I’m not at home to Lord Halburt for the forseeable future. At least until I can solve the riddle of the man’s presence in the Lilac Room—Ellie’s bedroom.”

  “Fine, I concur with that. If he materializes anywhere near me, I shall give him a proper set-down.” Miss Barton made this pronouncement then clamped her lips shut, as if she’d said more than she’d intended.

  ~*~

  Rosanna swam up out of a deep sleep, groaned, pushed back the bed curtains and listened. Something woke her. Intense in an instant, she focused, taking small breaths, listening for the sound to occur again. It had been a loud clunk. Hard to know where it came from, but if she heard it again, maybe she could identify the source.

  A scream rent the air of the silent house.

  Rosanna shot out of bed, grabbed a wrapper, and ran out into the hall.

  Miss Barton emerged from her room next door, shoving her arms into her robe. The older woman wore a tilting nightcap giving her a raffish air.

  The two huddled together.

  Miss Barton whispered. “Where did that come from?”

  “That had to be Ellie. The only woman in this part of the house is Ellie, and it came from the direction of the guest wing. Let’s go.” Without waiting for an answer, Rosanna grabbed Miss Barton’s forearm and pulled her down the hall and across the landing, toward the Lilac Room.

  Rosanna tapped on the door, and then swept into the room. Miss Barton entered in her wake and both women stopped short at the sight that met them.

  Ellie huddled in a lump as far away in the corner of the large four-poster bed as possible. The window stood wide open and the drapes were blowing around as a gusty wind gained entrance and continued to rampage through the room.

  Miss Barton hustled over to shut and latch the window.

  Rosanna surveyed the scene as she moved toward the bed. The room, uncomfortably cold, had the look of a disaster. A hassock tipped over, a rug rumpled, and several drawers hanging askew.

  “Ellie, was that you screaming?” Rosanna hastened to ascertain the facts. “A clunking noise woke me. Then came a scream.”

  Covers clutched to her chin and gulping for both air and composure, Ellie spoke in a rush of words. “Yes, I screamed. I heard the squeak of a drawer, then a footstep. Half asleep—so confused.” She held a clenched fist in front of her mouth and her shoulders convulsed.

  “There, there, now.” Miss Barton patted Ellie’s arm, then wrapped a shawl around her shaking shoulders. She helped her to rise, then guided her over to Rosanna. “Sit down dearie, while I stoke the fire.”

  Rosanna poured reassurance into her voice and hoped Ellie would soon stop shaking. “Sit here. You’re fine, whoever it was is gone.”

  “So frightened, a man, all in black—oh, Rosanna, I was terrified. He stood right there.” Pointing to the center of the rug, Ellie gripped the arm of the settee, perhaps to still her shaking. “I screamed, then he climbed out over the sill and was gone. What was he searching for?”

  “Is anything missing?” Rosanna’s eyes scanned the disarrayed room.r />
  “I can’t tell for sure, but my manuscript is still here, Praise God. Miss Barton, would you please hand me that?” She indicated a stack of paper on the desk, and when Barton placed it in her hands, Ellie hugged it to her chest.

  Rosanna lifted the sash and gave a quick look around before locking the window again. “It appears whoever came in used a ladder, which would explain the clunking sound. There’s no convenient tree or drain spout anywhere near this window. I shall have Bramstock investigate the grounds in the morning. I’ll also direct Perkins to check the locks on all doors and windows every night before retiring. For now, my friend, you come sleep in my room. I have a trundle bed in my dressing room and a wonderful down comforter.”

  Rosanna led Ellie, with Miss Barton bringing up the rear. They traversed the hall, jumpy and scared of their own shadows as the fearsome events had shaken them. Rosanna tried to reassure. “Ladies, this has me scared of my own shadow.”

  It took some time to settle in. Rosanna tossed and turned, the heavy responsibility of the estate weighing on her. She hadn’t been prepared to manage an estate, but her determination brought her this far. Who could she consult about this? Her options were few. She neither expected to face such danger, nor the urge to fling herself into Lord Winstead’s arms.

  41

  Rosanna’s eyes flew open and she threw off the covers. She needed to instruct the servants to be extra quiet this morning. Sounds of doors opening and closing, and people clomping upstairs to do their duties might wake Ellie. Poor Ellie must have peace and rest after last night’s shock.

  Rosanna padded over to her wardrobe, thankful that she had a few morning gowns that could be donned unaided. One of her own design, it went on over the head and then tied to fit under the bosom. Stuffing her feet into shoes, she tiptoed out of her room, and down the stairs to warn the staff to avoid her bedroom. Arriving in the hall, she spied the butler sorting mail. “Ah, there you are, Perkins. Tell the staff not to tend to my room this morning, Miss Moore slept on my trundle bed last night and must not be disturbed.”

  The butler’s reedy voice came out a bit rusty this early. “Very good, Miss. Anything else?”

  “I’m going to my study and I’d like some coffee there. I’ll need a message delivered to the rectory in approximately ten minutes.” There, that sets things in motion. Now to the next step.

  “Very good, miss.”

  “And Perkins? Lord and Lady Russell plan to depart after breakfast. Please alert me when they arrive in the dining room. I shall join them.”

  Perkins scurried off to enact her instructions. She entered her study and the soothing colors of the room had their effect. Her mind cleared as she pulled a piece of paper toward herself and dipped a pen to load it with ink.

  Wednesday

  Dear Mr. Clough,

  Though we planned to meet for a talk on Friday, I find myself needing counsel post haste. If workable for you, I’d like to speak with you later this morning. Would 11:00 at Honor’s Point be convenient? Please send a reply with my messenger.

  Cordially, Miss Rosanna Cabot

  “There.” Taking a deep breath, she placed the note in an envelope and sealed it with wax. She’d brought her seal, a rose, when she’d moved in, but had found in the desk, a seal with the letters “HP” intertwined. Today, she used the Honor’s Point seal. Her commitment to making a life here caused her to want to make a statement any way possible. Circumstances would not force her away. Not intruders, nor friends turning cold, nor her own sore heart.

  She rang the bell again, waiting for Perkins to come get the message. The staff here were so reliable, so good. Such a blessing that none of them seemed to resent her presence here. Lord, thank You that I can still be grateful for Your provision. I need—

  The door opened, Perkins leaned through the doorway, a smile on his face. Another blessing. She worked well with the butler. Perkins seemed to approve of her. But Peter Winstead, on the other hand, what were his feelings? Shoving that intruding thought aside, she smiled at the servant, raising her eyebrows in inquiry.

  “Miss Cabot, Lord and Lady Russell just entered the dining room.” Perkins’s loud, yet reedy voice certainly took some getting used to.

  “Thank you. Here’s a message for Reverend Clough. Tell whoever you send to wait for a reply. And please cancel the coffee, I’ll go to the dining room.” She stood, smoothed her dress, and gave a moment’s thought to whether it sufficed for appearing in company. It would need to. After all, Melissa was here to visit her, not to judge her wardrobe. And the newlyweds only had eyes for each other.

  The couple, heads together, whispered and laughed and broke away from each other only when Rosanna cleared her throat. “Good morning. I trust you rested well? No disturbances in the night?” With nonchalance, Rosanna moved along the sideboard, selecting her usual choices, eggs, bacon, and coffee.

  The new bride gave a glowing glance to her husband. “We slept like children. Country air is so good for that.”

  Melissa’s contentment made Rosanna happy for her friend. Witnessing the couple so blissful gave her hope. Someday, maybe she’d have someone to look at that way. She sat at the end of the table, murmuring thanks to the footman who pulled the chair out for her. Sipping coffee, she glanced out the window and caught a fleeting glimpse of someone, she couldn’t make out who, carrying a ladder across the lawn. She sputtered a bit and her cup clanked down into its saucer.

  The Russells looked at her, concern on their faces.

  Melissa half rose, asking, “Are you fine? Did you choke?”

  “I’m fine. A worker walked past out in the yard and it startled me, that’s all.” Oh, it would be nice to unburden her fears to her friends. But no, she would not heap her problems onto the happy newlyweds. They’d be leaving in less than an hour, if departure went as planned. No need to share her burdensome woes since she fully expected to speak to Mr. Clough later in the morning. Instead, Rosanna began a strand of conversation regarding the Russell’s plans for the next leg of their trip. Talk went on around this and some peripheral matters, until the time came for them to take their leave.

  Rising, Lord Russell gave a parting compliment. He assisted Lady Russell to her feet. She beamed up at him, obvious pride shining in her eyes. “Miss Cabot, I’m so glad we were able to visit you here at Honor’s Point. It’s a lovely estate. And meeting Walter Scott was priceless. He’s truly noble as well. I predict he’ll be knighted by the Prince Regent who is a great admirer of the poet’s work.”

  “Thank you. I’m beginning to settle in completely here, and it was an honor to have you two as overnight guests. It was wonderful to see you again after all this time.” Rosanna reached out to grasp hands, but Melissa moved in for a ladylike hug.

  “So glad you are doing so well. And such nice neighbors, too—Lord Halburt, Lady Brook, and Lord Winstead.” Melissa’s brow arched, and her husband took her hand, interrupting her flow of words.

  “My dear, we must be off.”

  ~*~

  Turning away after a final wave, Rosanna stepped back through the heavy, brass-trimmed front door.

  The butler closed it behind her.

  “Perkins, I’ll be in my study.” She strode down the hall, to her study, relishing having a room of her own in which to take care of correspondence and business matters. Seating herself at the delicate, yet efficient writing desk, she pulled an account book out of its slot. Open, the book took up almost the whole surface of the desk. She bent her head to the task, but her mind refused to focus on the columns of numbers, and instead ran ahead to her meeting with Mr. Clough. She closed the book, and rose, going to stand by the window. The sight of the lawn made her blink. How could she have let this slip her mind? She dashed out into the hall, calling, “Perkins! Perkins, where are you?”

  The elderly retainer emerged from the library, a feather duster in one hand and a leather-bound tome in the other. “Yes, miss?” He stood at attention, clearly surprised at her mode of calling.<
br />
  “Sorry for raising my voice, but I recalled something. Something important, and I need to see Bramstock immediately. Before Mr. Clough arrives.” She clasped her hands beneath her bosom, attempting to regain a composed appearance. It would never do for Perkins think her a flighty miss.

  “I will call Bramstock, miss.” Perkins bowed and set the book and duster on a side table, folded his cuffs down, straightened his cravat, and marched toward the back of the house to locate the steward.

  Rosanna rubbed her forehead as she returned to her study, barely gaining the room when a tap came on the door.

  Bramstock entered, looking curious, but like a man with no time to waste.

  “Thank you, Bramstock. It’s simple. I mean a simple question. I saw, I mean, there was a ladder. I saw a tall ladder this morning. Outside. One of the gardeners, I believe, carried it across the lawn. Where did it come from? Is there a project going on or a repair on the house, perhaps?” She schooled her face to reflect mild interest and kicked herself for sounding like such a flibbertigibbet.

  Impatient, the steward wasted no words. “Miss Cabot, I am aware of no projects that require a tall ladder.”

  Rosanna debated whether to ask the steward to investigate and decided against it. It would seem odd to show so much interest in a ladder being used, and by whom. She’d have to find out another way, discreetly, if possible. It wouldn’t do to spread the news about evidence of a strange man climbing into Ellie’s room. “That is all. I thought you might know, but it’s of no real importance.” She smiled before turning away, and he exited, closing the door.

  She needed to organize a list of her thoughts for Mr. Clough’s visit. Where to start? The intruder. Lord Winstead’s coldness. Those two topics would suffice. It amazed her how life could go from uneventful, peaceful days one after another, to this constant niggling unease at the back of her mind.

 

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