I know there is someone you care for, my dear.’
‘Percy, I have been perfectly happy...’ she’d said, but even as she’d spoken the words she knew he’d left her and she’d wept.
Her tears were the more bitter because she believed that she must have hurt him in some way. Surely he had not guessed at those feelings she’d hidden deep in her heart—feelings for Brock, one of his men, that she had never once allowed to show. The realisation that Percy had guessed was painful and made her grieving harder. She had kept up her mourning for more than several months and then only began to go into society gradually. It was Lady Jersey and her great friend Lady Patricia South who had finally dragged her back to the land of the living and made her face up to the future.
These days, she gave discreet, but very popular, dinner parties to which she invited both married and single friends, often including young officers who had served with her husband, and was never alone for very long. At a ball she would gather a crowd of younger men and women about her, though only the very strict would have thought her fast. She was a great rider and was usually to be seen in Rotten Row of a morning, riding a great red horse that looked as if it were far too strong for her and yet responded to her lightest touch. If she began her ride alone, she did not finish it so for there was always an officer or a fashionable gentleman to ride with her.
Samantha cast an approving eye over the chamber prepared for her guest. She could only be glad that Brock had no idea of her continuing feelings for him, because she was sure that his heart was given to another. Indeed, it must be for why else had he asked Cynthia Langton to be his wife? And yet the wedding had not yet been announced...
‘Stay with a widow?’ The look in Rosemarie’s eyes told Brock that she was not happy with the idea. ‘I do not wish to live quietly and hardly dare to raise my voice. Why will you not advance me a little money on my trinkets and let me go where I please?’
‘Because it would be quite improper for you to live alone, Miss Ross,’ he said patiently for perhaps the twentieth time. ‘Besides, Sam is not a long-suffering widow wearing black. Her husband has been dead for almost two years. She goes into society and will take you to small parties and dances, once you have suitable clothes.’
‘She will?’ Rosemarie tipped her head to one side, reminding him with her bright eyes of a hungry robin, ready to pounce on a worm. ‘Where shall I get the money to buy my clothes?’
‘Your lawyer will advance you some money,’ Brock lied, for Mr Stevens had refused to do anything of the kind until he had spoken to the girl’s aunt and uncle. Brock had not yet brought his own lawyer to bear on the subject of her inheritance, though he intended to speak with him as soon as he had her settled with Samantha Scatterby. ‘You need not concern yourself, Rosemarie. You will be safe and pleasantly engaged while I attempt to sort out your affairs. And do not think that your uncle will try to drag you back, because I have already informed your father’s lawyer that we are considering having your affairs taken out of his hands, unless he protects you in this matter. He was much shaken and promised that he would enquire into your affairs without loss of time.’
‘Thank you,’ Rosemarie said and looked thoughtful. ‘You are truly considerate and a great gentleman, sir. Had you not come when you did I might have fallen into the hands of rogues—or died. I know Papa would have liked you. Had he known you, I am sure he would have appointed you as one of my guardians.’
‘Well, your guardian I am not, more’s the pity,’ Brock said and smiled. ‘However, I am hopeful of a satisfactory outcome to your problems—but I must ask you to comply with my request. Mrs Scatterby is a respectable widow and will take care of you while helping you acquire some town bronze. Only if I know you to be safely established in her care can I leave town...’
‘You’re going to see your fiancée, are you not?’
‘Yes, I must,’ Brock said, ‘but fortunately for me Cynthia is in town. I may call on her and settle my affairs before I take a trip down to Falmouth to speak to your uncle.’
‘He will be very angry. I dare say he will demand that I return to his protection.’
‘He may well do so,’ Brock agreed, but seeing the fear in her eyes softened his tone. ‘However, I believe the threat of my applying to make you and your fortune a ward of court will stop him in his tracks. It is a last resort, of course, but if it were the only way to protect you from their scheming I would take whatever measures necessary.’
‘If I were married, my uncle could not make me wed Sir Montague and neither he nor Papa’s lawyer could withhold my fortune.’
Brock was struck by the look in her eyes, his senses alerted. ‘Is there something you have not told me, Rosemarie? Have you a particular young man in mind?’
‘What if I have? He is serving abroad, but once he comes home he will marry me and then...’
‘You do realise that although your uncle may not force you to marry a man of his choice, he can forbid you to wed another—until you are of age you would need his consent to marry.’
‘I knew you would say that.’ Rosemarie pouted at him, a truculent note in her voice. ‘It is the reason I did not tell you everything—but he cannot stop me if we run away.’
‘No, but he might apply to have the marriage set aside and make you a ward of court but under his own jurisdiction.’ Brock frowned at her. ‘For your own sake, I must warn you to be careful, Rosemarie. You are very young to be married and might easily make a mistake. Why not give yourself a little time to live in town and get to know more people...to be sure of your own heart?’
‘I love Robert. He is the only man I shall ever love and I am determined to be his wife.’ Rosemarie set her mouth stubbornly. ‘Papa would not have forbidden me. He believed that marriage should always be for love. His own was arranged and look what happened, though I know he cared for his wife deeply. Yet he also loved Mama and I know he would tell me to marry Robert and be happy.’
Brock smothered a sigh. ‘Unfortunately, your father is no longer here to tell us his wishes, Rosemarie. If you are sensible and give yourself a little time, your aunt and uncle may be brought to agree—and that would be best for everyone. Would you not wish to be on good terms with your family?’
‘Why should I care for them?’ Rosemarie’s eyes sparkled with defiance. ‘You say that because you do not know Lord Roxbourgh. You think I exaggerate when I say he covets Papa’s estate and his wife wants my mother’s jewels, but I assure you I do not, sir.’
‘Forgive me, Rosemarie. I believe that you have been unjustly treated, but I must reserve judgement until I have spoken to your uncle and aunt—after that we shall see what needs to be done to protect both you and your fortune.’
There was the hint of a tear in her eyes as she inclined her head, but her pride would not let her give way to a show of weeping.
‘I know you are right, sir,’ she said. ‘I am grateful to you—but I love Robert and he loves me. Even if we have to wait two years, I shall marry him.’
‘Do not think me your enemy,’ Brock said. ‘I speak only out of a desire to protect you. I think you would not like to be cut off from society for your whole life?’
‘As Mama was?’ Rosemarie tilted her chin at him. ‘No, indeed, it was sad
