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Authors: Lavinia Kent

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“Rosalind, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Huntington
.
He may not realize it, but he’s the stepson of one of my favorite correspondents, Lord William Chesterdown
.
Captain Huntington, may I make you known to my wife, Rosalind, Lady Burberry?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Cornwall, 1816

Organization and persistence had triumphed again
.
Rose settled with satisfaction onto the settee in the corner of her chamber, and stared into the fire
.
Her house party would be a success
.
It didn’t matter that she’d never managed such an event before
.
Everything was going according to her careful plan
.
In fact, better than planned
.
A neat schedule and an orderly list accomplished most any task.

A few brief conversations with a dear acquaintance, Mrs. Huntley, had led to a brisk correspondence with Lady Smythe-Burke, who was apparently a true doyenne of London society and the aunt of Rose’s near neighbor, the Duke of
Westlake
.
That, through various webs of correspondence, had woven a very satisfactory list of eligible gentlemen and of the ladies who would round out the party
.
Lady Smythe-Burke herself had even condescended to attend
.
All but one of the guests were set to arrive on the morrow
.

Rose smiled at the tangle of it all
.
She had conquered.

Plan
.
List
.
Plan.

Life could be so simple if one were organized
.
She left nothing to chance.

A timid knock on the door drew her attention, and she rose to answer
.
Her stockinged feet sank deep into the rich carpet, and she relished the small pleasure
.

She opened the door a crack to see Marguerite standing on the other side, dressed in her nightgown, with a heavy wrap drawn about her shoulders
.
Rose stepped back to allow her sister into her chamber.

“I am so sorry to disturb you, sister,” Marguerite said
.
“But I could not sleep
.
It is too exciting, waiting for the guests tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry
.
Come in and sit down
.
As you can see, I haven’t retired yet
.
My maid has a cold, and I sent her to bed down with Cook
.
I know she’ll be well cared for there
.
I haven’t even summoned someone else to help with my laces.” Rose gestured to the simple lavender gown she still wore
.
“Besides, I must confess to feeling a certain restlessness myself.”

Marguerite perched on the edge of the writing desk’s delicate chair
.
“I can hardly believe you are going through with it.”

“Hosting a house party surely does not call for such surprise.”

“But, it is not just a house party.”

“Of course it is,

Rose said.

“But, your purpose.”

“You mean to find a husband.”

“Well, yes.”

“And what is surprising about that
?
I must tell you it is probably the purpose of most such events
.
Why else would one go to such bother
?
It is purely a matter of expediency.”

“I do not know that I believe that
.
I still do not understand why you would seek a husband.

Marguerite edged closer and stared at Rose
.
“I think you have been very happy just delving through the piles of paper and whatnots left in Burberry’s library.”

“I am surprised at your confusion.

Rose refused to meet her sister’s glance
.
“I thought you believed it the most glorious goal of all women to seek a husband and live ever after in romantic bliss.”

“I do
.
Well, at least I believe it is every girl’s duty to seek a good marriage, one that will do her family proud.

Marguerite’s curls quivered and her cheeks grew rosy
.
“But, you have already been married
.
You always said you loved the admiral
.
I just thought you’d mourn him longer.”

Rose pursed her lips and nodded, wanting to show the common sense for which she was known
.
Her primary reasons for seeking matrimony were sensible
.
“It’s been a year and three months as of yesterday
.
I did love Burberry
.
John was as good and noble a man as ever there was, and he made for a most caring husband.”

“Then how can you think of remarrying so soon
?
I know if I lost my great love I would mourn for a lifetime, perhaps go into a decline and perish myself
.
I know I could never so coldly think of taking another husband.”

Rose choked back the nervous laugh that her sister’s naiveté provoked
.
Probably Rose had similar thoughts herself at seventeen, though she had not been nearly as sheltered by their stepmother
.
Truly, Mary had kept Marguerite in the shade!

Rose walked over to her sister and knelt beside her, bringing their eyes to the same level.

“Oh, Marguerite, I know that when you love, it will be forever, and you will know a constant happiness, if only you can find a man worthy of you
.
But, for myself, that was not to be
.
I did love John and always will, but I find myself at a loss without a husband
.
I had grown used to the wedded state and I miss it greatly.”

In less than a second, Marguerite grew redder than a robin’s breast
.
“Oh.

The one word and hurried gulp spoke volumes.

As Rose followed her sister’s thoughts, her own color darkened, as well
.
“No, I don’t mean that
.
I will fulfill what is expected of me as a wife, to be sure, but I already have a daughter
.
All the funds John left me are unentailed
.
I will seek to have them protected in the marriage settlement
.
If Anna is left a bit of an heiress, so much the better
.
I would be happy with further offspring, but would survive without.”

“But, it’s about more than childr
en
.
Surely your husband . . .

Marguerite’s face grew even darker
.
“I’ve heard that men, that they - well, that they need a lot.”

“That has not been my experience.

Rose clenched her fingers at this uncomfortable discussion
.
She well knew that life with John had not been typical
.
“In any case, I know you are not familiar with society, but husbands and wives avoid each other’s beds with great frequency.”

Marguerite lowered her eyes and chewed on her lower lip at these frank words
.
Not wanting to further endanger her sister’s ideals, Rose walked over to her and, bending down, took her sister’s soft hands in her own slightly rougher ones
.
“Oh, dearest
.
Of course I want a husband with whom I feel warmth and desire.

Rose was overcome by memories of a moonlit, sweaty night and the delights it had held
.
“Passion . . . passion is magical and wonderful and all the things your young heart imagines
.
It just isn’t necessary for a good marriage
.
For myself it is much more important to find a man who respects me and lets me be free to pursue the life I desire, than that I find one who makes me tingle in most improper places.

A sudden image of hot, green eyes and warm, calloused hands momentarily overcame her — but she squelched it ruthlessly, as she had done so often over the past years
.

“But, Rose, how can you say such things?” Marguerite began
.
“I know that making a good marriage is important and every woman’s duty, but surely you want more
.
I would always do what Mama thought was best, but I must confess I
long for . . . I know I . . . o
h, forgive me
.
It is that you still mourn for Burberry, is it not
?
Of course, how can you dream of passion with another man when you are still in love with the admiral
?
You just sound so practical, I forget how great your love was
.
Do forgive me.”

Turning her face away, Rose w
alked back to the settee
.
It was so much easier to let Marguerite keep her youthful fantasies than to explain the whole, complex situation
.

It was so much simpler not to delve into her past marriage
.
How did you explain to a seventeen-year-old that you’d had the happiest of all marriages, yet not slept with your
husband after the first year and that t
he illness that ravaged John’s body kill
ed so many other dreams as well?

“Marguerite, you need to rest now.

Rose hoped that would end the conversation
.
“You don’t want to be wilted and faded before young Lord Simon Moreland, now, do you
?
How will you ever catch a gentleman if you don’t look your best?”

The giggles continued
.
“Me, catch a gentleman
?
Do not be silly
.
Whatever would a gentleman want with plain Miss Marguerite Wilkes
?
Besides, you know Mama thinks I am too young
.
I am lucky she has let me put my hair up.”

Rose smothered the thought that Marguerite was undoubtedly right
.
Her stepmother would hold onto the girl as long as possible and then probably marry her off to some dour but prosperous merchant
.
It was amazing that Mary had even let Marguerite visit Rose for the summer
.
Rose still wasn’t sure which of her pleas had touched Mary’s heart
.
Maybe it was nothing more than a mercantile calculation in avoiding the cost of Marguerite’s care and summer wardrobe
.
Mary did know how to spend the same penny three times and still have change left
.

Rose forced her mind back to the conversation
.
“Well, be that true or not, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a little practice being wooed
.
I think you’ll be surprised at how intriguing the gentlemen will find you
.
You’re young and fresh and as lovely as a summer daisy
.
If I, in my advanced age, have hope, surely you can dream a little.”

Marguerite giggled more and, wrapping herself again in her thick shawl, scurried off to bed
.

Rose lay back
on the settee and stared up at the delicate plaster frieze edging the ceiling
.
The round plaster cupids
looked remarkably like Anna
at the same age, all soft pudgy limbs and dimpled smiles
.
How she longed for her daughter’s baby days, to feel that soft, silk of hair caressing her chin, that magical baby smell tickling her nose
.
It had passed too quickly.

Maybe, with a new husband wou
ld come new babies
.
Twenty-nine was not ancient
.
Her body softened with the dream of future infants staring up at her, with large emerald eyes and glowing blond curls.

She lurched up
,
swearing
.
There would be no further green-
eyed babes
.
That was her past, both her greatest mistake and most treasured gift
.
For the last five years, and most particularly this last, she had worked so hard to forget that afternoon, to put aside the dreams that could never be
.
Yes, she had made a mistake, a big one, but she refused to let it affect the rest of her life more than it must
.
She would not be weak now.

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