by Lynn Bryant
Roseen slept soundly and well in a nightgown borrowed from Voirry but woke early to find her wrist throbbing and to hear the sound of activity outside. Getting up she padded to the window and peeped cautiously out. The fog and rain had vanished with typical Manx suddenness and brilliant sunshine and blue skies had replaced them. On the carriage drive was her father, climbing down from his barouche, and she could see Dr Carney’s gig nearby. It seemed probable that her rest was over and she turned in search of her clothes when there was a tap on the door.
“Miss Crellin. May I come in? Dr Carney is here to see you and your father has arrived. He’s brought your maid with a change of clothes for you, may I send her in?”
“Miss Christian. Yes, of course, please come in.” Roseen lifted a hand to her tangled dark curls. “Heavens, what a commotion, you’d think I’d suffered some serious accident instead of a stupid fall and a few bruises.”
Voirry Christian came into the room, smiling. “Captain Kelly is worried. I think he feels guilty that he didn’t get you home sooner yesterday. How are you?”
“Sore but perfectly well. Although I’m glad of clean clothes, mine were soaked.”
By the time Roseen had washed, dressed, seen the doctor and submitted to having her unruly curls properly styled she found Hugh and her father at breakfast. Joining them, she was aware of feeling unaccountably shy. There had been considerable intimacy in their journey home the previous evening and she was not sure how he would be today. He rose immediately and came forward, drawing out a chair.
“Come and eat, you must be hungry. How are you? Dr Carney thinks it’s not broken.”
“No, sprained as I thought. Thank you, Captain. I’ve been a lot of trouble to you.”
“No, you haven’t. Your father is going to take you home once you’ve had breakfast, but he’s kindly invited me to dine later, if you’re not sick of the sight of me.”
Roseen smiled. She was conscious of her parent’s benign aspect and knew that he was very aware of the shift in her relationship with Captain Kelly. Roseen did not mind. At some point during the past twenty four hours, she realised that she had made her decision.
During the week that followed, it seemed to Roseen that she was seldom apart from Captain Hugh Kelly. It was as if he too had made a decision at some point during their ill-fated day in Peel Town and his choice having been made, he behaved as if he had already proposed and been accepted. He arrived to dine at the Top House and remained late into the evening, returning the following day with a request for her company in the carriage to Douglas where he had several meetings with his bank and a legal advisor. They dined together at a charming inn overlooking the harbour and he took her home and stayed late once again talking to her father and looking at Roseen through the candlelight with an expression that she found decidedly to her taste.
She could ride again by the end of the week and they rode out through the warm afternoons of late summer, talking of everything and nothing. His reserve seemed to have vanished and he told her whatever she asked about his naval career and campaigns, about the Nile and Trafalgar. At the end of each long and happy day he would kiss her hand and leave her with a promise for the following day.
Roseen approached the lieutenant-governor’s reception in a glow of happiness. Whatever reservations she had harboured about Hugh Kelly had long gone, swept away in the sheer pleasure of his company. She dressed, with unusual care in the deep blue gown that he had admired and accompanied her father to the Governor’s House within the walls of Castle Rushen.
The lieutenant-governor had been in post for only a year and it had not been an easy one. Roseen had heard her father and his friends discussing the conflict between Colonel Smelt, who was the first royally appointed lieutenant-governor of the Isle of Mann and the Duke of Atholl, the hereditary Lord of Mann and was now the governor.
There was long and painful history behind Smelt’s appointment which had begun at the time of the Revestment Act of 1765 when the Duke of Atholl, the hereditary Lord of Mann had sold his rights to the island to the English government. Although it had been long before Roseen’s time, she had been raised in the belief that Atholl had sold out to the English and that the island, small but fiercely independent, had been the loser. Previously, the Manx Parliament, Tynwald had passed laws concerning the government of the island in all respects and had control over its finances, subject to the approval of the Lord of Mann. After the revestment, the Parliament at Westminster legislated with respect to customs, harbours and merchant shipping and it was generally felt that they did so for the benefit of England and not Mann.
The situation on the island had resulted in a tense stand-off between John Murray, Duke of Atholl and Colonel Smelt. Atholl was not particularly popular on the island but nevertheless, the Manx people were accustomed to him and were generally slow to accept change so it was to Smelt’s credit that he was already beginning to be seen as a reasonable man who could be trusted.
Atholl was not currently on the island which meant that the atmosphere at the reception was relaxed and easy. Smelt, a dark haired man in his late fifties, greeted arrivals at the castle with his wife. He bowed over Roseen’s hand with old fashioned courtesy.
“Delighted as always, Miss Crellin. My officers will be overjoyed to see you. Crellin, good to see you, sir. I’ll find you later for a chat; Taubman wants to discuss his ideas for the harbour works in Douglas.”
“Taubman always does,” Mr Crellin said, with a bow. “I will, sir. Mrs Smelt, delighted, ma’am.”
The reception rooms in the Governor’s House were not large and quickly became crowded. On fine evenings it was traditional for the party to spread out into the castle grounds and during the previous year when Lieutenant Barton had occupied her mind, Roseen had become adept at evading the chaperonage of her aunt, who was not in any case particularly vigilant. Observing that she had become drawn in to a lengthy gossip session about the perfection of Roseen’s baby nephew and the trials of his mother, who had not been at all well since the birth, Roseen slipped quietly away. She was humming to herself as she went down the stairway and out through the door into the courtyard.
“Roseen.”
The voice shocked Roseen; it was not the one she had been expecting to hear calling her name and definitely not the one she wanted to hear. She whirled around and saw him standing in the shadows beside a boarded up doorway into one of the crumbling outbuildings, the light of the lanterns sparking off the braid on his red coat.
“Edward! Dear God, you frightened the life out of me! What on earth are you doing back here? I thought you would be with your regiment.”
Roseen ran her eyes over the willowy form. He was resplendent in his new uniform, his hair longer and tied back. He looked far younger than she remembered; a good looking boy in a red coat.
“Roseen, it is so good to see you, I was hoping you would be here. Oh sweetheart…”
The word made her flinch and as he moved towards her, Roseen held up a warning hand.
“Don’t, Edward. Please don’t.”
“What’s wrong?”
Roseen took a deep breath. Of all the evenings for her past love to come back to haunt her she would not have chosen this one, but it had to be faced now that he was here. With a sigh she moved closer into the shadows, carefully not touching him.
“What are you doing here, Edward?” she asked quietly. “I thought the island had seen the last of you.”
“So did I,” Barton admitted. “I joined the regiment and we were sent to Sicily under Moore - helping to train local forces. But I was taken ill, some kind of local fever. Tried to last it out but eventually they thought I’d best go home to recuperate. I recovered fairly quickly, but they’re not sure where we’re going to be posted next, we’re awaiting orders. The colonel is friendly with Governor Smelt and he mentioned me. The governor said I could come back here for a couple of months, perhaps help to train the fencibles, make sure I’m fully recovered. And I was all for it be
cause I hoped I’d see you again.”
Roseen studied him in the lamplight. “I am glad you are recovering so well, Edward. And sorry you’ve been ill. But…”
“You’re married, aren’t you?” Barton said. “I thought you might be. Thought there was little chance that a girl like you would have remained single all these months.”
“I’m not married, Edward,” Roseen said. “Were you intending to offer for me?”
She saw his gaze shift, an expression that she realised was very familiar to her. He had worn it every time she had tried to ask him his intentions towards her and she had deliberately refused to recognise it last year when she had been busy falling in love. It did not trouble her now and that fact confirmed what she had known for some time.
Roseen gave a little smile and shook her head. “Don’t bother to answer it, Edward, I honestly don’t want to hear you stammering your excuses again. And it doesn’t matter now, since I wouldn’t say yes.”
“Rose, you know how I feel about you!” Barton said passionately, his eyes on her face. “It’s just…”
“I know that you would very much like to go to bed with me,” Roseen said calmly and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen in horror.
“Roseen - you cannot speak that way!”
“Yes, I can, Edward. Indeed, it comes very naturally to me, I have simply restrained myself in order to avoid shocking you. But I do not need to worry about that any more.”
He was studying her closely. “Have you met somebody else, Roseen?”
“I have. I was very unhappy when you left, Edward. I tried to understand that your career came before me, but I think deep down inside, I knew that you did not wish to marry me. When you do marry I am sure it will be a nice English girl from your own county whom your mother will like, not some little Manx girl trying to pretend to be a lady. Please don’t look so upset, I’m not angry or hurt any more.”
“Are you betrothed?” Barton asked.
“Not yet. Although if he asks me - and I think he will - I intend to say yes. My father approves and I think we shall suit very well.”
Barton gave a stiff bow. “Then I have nothing more to do than to wish you happy, Miss Crellin.”
“Thank you. I think I shall be. I hope you do as well when you are ready. Will you excuse me, I…”
“I did love you, Roseen. Perhaps I’m not ready for marriage,” Barton said suddenly. “But I did love you.”
Roseen saw that he believed that it was true. Perhaps it had been. It softened her and she smiled at him. “I know, Edward. Just not enough. Don’t let us think of it again; I hope I may call you my friend.”
“Of course.” She saw him glance around. “One kiss,” he said suddenly, dropping his voice. “Please. I’ve dreamed of you. Just to say goodbye.”
Roseen hesitated. She had no doubts or regrets but she was suddenly curious. Only a year ago she had melted in his arms. It seemed to her now that she had never felt the same way with Lieutenant Barton as she felt when Captain Hugh Kelly took her into his arms but she wondered if her memory was faulty. After a moment she stepped forward and stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips.
He pulled her into his arms, catching her by surprise. The sensation was not unpleasant but it was without meaning, without depth. Roseen stood very still for a moment and allowed him to kiss her, waiting for him to release her so that she could leave him without a single regret.
“What in God’s name…?”
Roseen recognised her father’s voice in sheer horror. Barton released her, so suddenly that she stumbled and had to catch hold of the lintel of the doorway to steady herself. She turned. Three men had emerged at the bottom of the stairwell and were standing staring at her. All three looked shocked. Roseen’s eyes looked past her father and Major John Taubman, the speaker of the House of Keys and fastened on to the third man. The expression in Hugh Kelly’s eyes appalled her.
“Captain Kelly…”
“Miss Crellin.” Hugh’s voice was a crack of sheer fury. “My apologies, ma’am, didn’t mean to disturb you. Will you excuse me?”
Roseen could feel her face flooding with colour. “No…sir, you’ve misunderstood! It is not…I did not…”
“Misunderstood?” Josiah Crellin roared. “Misunderstood, that you’re hiding in the dark kissing that young good-for-nothing in a scarlet coat that you spent last spring and summer chasing around like a moonling? By God, girl, you’ve gone your length this time! By the time I’ve done with you…”
Taubman put a hand on his arm. “Crellin, keep it down!” he said quickly. “There’ll be enough talk over this, fella, no need to make the gossips a present of it. Best take her home and talk about it when you’re calmer.”
Crellin appeared to make a gargantuan effort to restrain himself. “Right,” he said finally. “Yes. Come with me, girl, we’ll find your aunt and get your wrap. But you’re going to regret this!” His eyes shifted to Barton who had remained back in the shadows, frozen in sheer terror. “As for you, you young scoundrel, you’ll stay away from her or I’ll take a riding whip to you, I don’t care how much the soldier you think you are!”
Roseen hardly heard him and was completely oblivious to Barton’s petrified silence. Her eyes were fixed on the white, set face of Hugh Kelly. She shook her head again.
“I need to explain,” she said and she could hear the tremor and the hint of tears in her voice. “Sir, I need to tell you, this is not what it seems. I…”
“You’ll excuse me, ma’am, if I tell you it is very clear what this is. My apologies. Had I known you’d a previous attachment I would not have troubled you with attentions that you cannot have welcomed. I’ll remove myself immediately. Excuse me, Mr Crellin, Major Taubman. Good evening.”
Crellin looked round at him. “Captain, we’re all upset. I’ve no wish to quarrel with you…”
“I’ve no intention of being at outs with you, sir, you’re a business partner. The marriage of your daughter, however, is no longer my concern. Good evening.”
He turned and walked away and Roseen took two steps towards him and then stopped herself. She could feel the tears beginning to come and she could not run crying through the governor’s reception. She turned to look at her father. He was looking after Hugh with his brows drawn.
“If you’ve thrown away this chance, Roseen, you’re going to be very sorry!” he said quietly, and Roseen turned to him.
“Do you think I wanted this?” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I didn’t! It was a stupid moment!”
“Sir. Mr Crellin.” Barton’s voice came out as a croak. “I can assure you that I have no intention of…”
“Oh be quiet!” Roseen said furiously, rounding on him. “If you prove to be this much of a coward in the field I imagine your regiment will be glad to be rid of you! Go away, please. The damage is done, there’s nothing you can do to help and you are just making things worse. Father - I want to go home. Please.”
Crellin studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Aye, I’ll find your aunt. Wait here. No hope that this won’t get out, too many people will have heard it. I’ll ride over and see if I can speak to Captain Kelly tomorrow, but I’ll tell you now, Roseen, he didn’t look like a man much inclined to listen to me.”
Roseen wiped her tears with both hands. “He has to listen. I’ll make him listen,” she whispered.
Chapter Six
Hugh rode back to Ballabrendon without any awareness of the road, the weather or the bright moonlight guiding his way. MacLir knew the route thoroughly and needed little guidance. Only as he was trotting into the stable yard did Hugh suddenly realise that his quick return from an evening which should have lasted much later was going to occasion comment.
He walked up to the house and found Isaac and Voirry seated in the parlour discussing wedding plans. Hugh nodded to them and headed to the stairs but his friend followed him into the hall.
“You’re back early, fella, everything all right?”
Isaac raised surprised brows. “I think so,” he said. “But you’ve a few more weeks at least, surely. We’ve the wedding in two and I’m well aware you’ve plans of your own…”
“Not any more,” Hugh said. “I’m sorry, I’d have liked to be here for your wedding, but I need to get back. I’ll pack tomorrow and Brian and I will take the packet; I can hire a carriage in Whitehaven to get me to Yarmouth. I should be there anyway; the majority of the work on the Iris is done, I’d like to supervise the rest myself, and I need to get a crew together.”
Isaac came forward, looking concerned. “Christ, Hughie, what’s happened? Don’t tell me she turned you down?”
“I didn’t ask her. And I don’t want to talk about it, Ise. It was a mistake - I rushed into it, I don’t really know her well enough…”
“Bollocks, fella, you’ve been wandering around smelling of April and May for months, it’s more time than most people need. What happened?”
“I told you…”
“If you’re walking out of here, missing my wedding and leaving me to get this place in order and run it for you months before I expected to have to, Hugh, you’re bloody going to tell me why!” Isaac said shortly. “Come into the parlour, Voirry’s gone up to bed.”
Hugh sighed and followed his friend. The parlour was warm and cosy with the fire burning brightly and the table scattered with Voirry’s note tablets and pencil and several swatches of material which Hugh guessed painfully were samples for the wedding gown. He sat down on the old fashioned wooden settle before the fire and accepted a glass of brandy from Isaac in silence. Isaac sat down opposite him and studied him.
“What happened Hugh?”
“I went in search of her and found her in a rather passionate embrace with some skinny half-wit in a red coat. From what her father said, I gather it’s an attachment of some standing. He left the island with a flea in his ear from Crellin and now he’s back. I wish she’d told me, but I suppose she thought he’d gone and I was a fair substitute for a while.”