Snowbound With the Notorious Rake (8 page)

Rose put her arms around him and kissed him, standing at his side as he made his bow.

‘Do not forget to thank Sir Lawrence for seeing you home,’ Magnus reminded him.

‘No, no, you have that the wrong way round,’ replied Lawrence seriously. ‘Sam showed
me
the way.’ He held out his hand. ‘Goodnight, Master Westerhill. I am greatly indebted to you.’

‘So, what business is it that keeps you in Mersecombe?’ enquired Magnus, when Sam and his grandmother had left the room.

The gentlemen were settling into chairs close to the fire, but Rose moved to the window seat, still trying to collect her wits.

‘Oh, this and that,’ Sir Lawrence responded vaguely. ‘I return to Knightscote tomorrow, but I shall have to come back again once Wooler sends word that the dog is weaned.’

Magnus leaned back in his chair. ‘You could send your man to collect it.’

‘I could, of course, but I enjoy finding my way about.’ He added apologetically, ‘I fear I have been far too reclusive during my previous visits to Exmoor.’

‘I do not see what you need with a dog when you are here for only a few weeks each year.’ Rose’s statement brought both men’s eyes upon her and Magnus was moved to protest. Lawrence held up his hand.

‘No, no, Emsleigh, she has a point.’ Again she was subjected to that intense gaze. ‘I have brought my keeper with me. The dog will be put into his care to be trained up, for use on whichever of my estates we are visiting.’

‘Do you plan a long stay at Knightscote, Sir Lawrence?’ asked Magnus.

Rose looked down at her hands, desperate to hear his answer.

‘That depends. I have made no firm plans yet.’

She dared not look up, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

‘Well, sir, if you are still here at the end of October you should come to the Mersecombe Assembly,’ declared Magnus. ‘I will be able to introduce you to everyone. Not the highest society, of course, as you are used to in London, but nevertheless it will give you an opportunity to meet your neighbours. It is held at the Ship, so before you leave tomorrow you could take a look at the Assembly Room—I think you will agree it is a fine space for dancing.’

‘And will you be attending, Mrs Westerhill?’

Rose jumped as Sir Lawrence addressed her.

‘Why…yes.’

‘Then, if I am still at Knightscote, I shall look forward to seeing you there.’ He picked up his hat. ‘I must go.’

Rose jumped to her feet.

‘I shall see you out.’

Magnus immediately sat up.

‘My dear, you should ring for Janet—’

‘She will be helping Mama put Sam to bed.’ Rose went to the door. ‘This way, sir, if you please.’

The hall was blessedly free of people, but suddenly all the questions that had been flying around in Rose’s head disappeared. All she could think of was Lawrence standing at her shoulder.

‘Do you know, I am not sure I can recall my way back to the inn?’ His low voice provoked in Rose a shiver of aching memory.

‘Nonsense,’ she retorted. ‘You walked here only a short while ago.’

‘Ah, but I was distracted by my companion’s non-stop chatter. Would you be good enough to walk a little way with me?’

Rose knew she should refuse, but she took up her cloak and threw it around her shoulders. As they stepped outside Sir Lawrence stopped and she saw that he was staring at the shrubs beside the door, illuminated by the lamp from the parlour window.

‘Rosemary,’ he muttered. ‘For remembrance.’

Rose gave a little shrug, trying to ignore the sensation of his eyes boring into her.

‘I planted it as soon as I got home. By some miracle it has survived.’

She turned away quickly, hurrying through the garden and across the stream. Once they were on the road Sir Lawrence held out his arm to her and she laid her fingers on his sleeve. Beneath the fine cloth the muscle felt reassuringly solid.

‘So you did not marry him on Lady Day.’

‘No.’

‘Because of your visit to Knightscote?’

‘Of course not.’ The denial was far too quick, unconvincing even to her own ears. ‘My son is not yet ready for a new father.’ She added, so he should be in no doubt, ‘My opinion of you is unchanged, Sir Lawrence. You should not have come in search of me.’

‘I did not. I am here on business of my own.’

‘Oh.’ Rose bit her lip, trying not to dwell upon her sense of disappointment. ‘Well, I am glad of it. I, um, I suppose I should thank you for not mentioning the fact that we have met before.’

‘Your mother was clearly unaware of it and I doubted very much if you had told Emsleigh.’

‘No indeed.’

‘So what did you tell them?’

‘They think I was stranded at one of the outlying farms.’

They had reached the crossroads and Rose stopped.

‘There.’ She pointed. ‘The Ship is just around the corner; you can see the glow from the lighted windows on the road.’

‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He caught her outstretched
hand. ‘Thank you. And will you give me permission to call—?’

‘No!’ She stepped away from him, pulling her fingers free. ‘No. We agreed.’

‘We agreed nothing. Ten months ago I let you ride out of my life—’

‘I told you then it was better if we did not meet again. Nothing has changed.’

‘You do not know that.’

Rose desperately wanted to believe him, just as she had wanted to believe Harry every time he promised he would mend his ways. She took refuge in her bitterness.

‘A rake reformed?’ Her lip curled. ‘An impossibility.’ She shivered. ‘I must go back.’

She pulled her cloak about her and began to retrace her steps.

‘So you will not allow me to call upon you?’

Rose stopped.

‘No.’

‘But you will be at the Assembly?’

She shrugged.

‘That is not until the end of the month. I cannot think you will want to stay at Knightscote for so long.’

‘I shall be there.’

‘I cannot prevent you from attending a public assembly, Sir Lawrence, although I think you will find it dull work.’

She saw the flash of his white teeth in the moonlight.

‘We shall see!’

He strode away, whistling, and Rose hurried back
to Bluebell Cottage. How dare he come back into her life? What was he doing in Mersecombe, if he had not come to find her? She had told him they should not meet again and she would hold to that. After all, it was not just her happiness that was at stake if she allowed herself to become entangled with a rake, but that of her son.

Rose returned to the house to find her mother and Magnus waiting for her in the sitting room. Mrs Molland looked up, relieved, as she walked in.

‘My dear, we were about to send out a search party!’

‘I beg your pardon. Sir Lawrence was unsure of the way, so I stepped outside to—er—point him in the right direction.’

Magnus frowned.

‘That was imprudent, Rose. I would not advise you to step out into the dark with any man, but when it is someone of Sir Lawrence’s reputation…’

Mrs Molland nodded.

‘Mr Emsleigh has the right of it, my love. Sir Lawrence and his circle are constantly mentioned in the London news sheets. You may recall even your aunt has mentioned him in her letters. Rake Daunton! Why, his name is for ever being linked with some society hostess or another. They say he is never seen twice with the same woman on his arm.’

‘There has been very little about him this year, Mama.’ And she had searched the newspapers more carefully than usual, looking for his name. Rose told
herself she was not defending Sir Lawrence, merely trying to be fair and just.

‘Perhaps we missed it.’ Mrs Molland laughed. ‘Good heavens, Rose, Mr Emsleigh will think the society gossip is the only page we read!’ She added soberly, ‘For all that, I was most grateful to Sir Lawrence for seeing Sam home. That was very thoughtful. And I was most impressed that he should then sit and converse with Sam and me in a very civilised manner. He is most agreeable.’

‘I would expect nothing less of the man,’ put in Magnus, giving an indulgent little laugh. ‘I noticed at the Pullens’ ball that he is like a magnet to you ladies. Gambling and flirting is how he spends most of his time in town.’

‘I wish he had stayed there,’ muttered Rose.

Magnus smiled at her.

‘I know. It is a pity that you should meet him, but you need not worry. It is most likely he will return to Knightscote in the morning and we shall hear no more of him. But if he
should
come to the Assembly, I shall make very sure he understands that we are to be married next Lady Day, and if he attempts to go beyond the line of what is pleasing, he will have to answer to
me
.’

Never had Rose known the weeks to drag by so slowly. Her work at the village school occupied her for four mornings of the week, but she spent the rest of the time thinking of Sir Lawrence and wondering if he was still at Knightscote. She had forbidden him to call upon her,
but that did not stop the flutter of hope every time there was a knock at the door.

The day of the Mersecombe Assembly dawned cold and wet. Heavy rain fell all morning; although the weather became drier as the day went on the thick cloud shrouding the hills remained, bringing an early dusk. Despite the drear weather Rose experienced a little thrill of anticipation as she walked with her mother the short distance from Bluebell Cottage to the Ship Inn. She told herself it was merely the thought of dancing that excited her; she had no expectations that Sir Lawrence would attend a provincial ball. After all, she could not even be sure that he was at Knightscote—he had certainly made no attempt to see her again.

That was as it should be, she told herself as she followed Mrs Molland into the Ship, but she could not prevent the rough edge of disappointment chafing her spirits when she could not see his tall figure amongst the crowd in the Long Room. Magnus and his sister were already present and came up immediately.

‘It is as I feared,’ declared Magnus, kissing and retaining Rose’s hand. ‘A sad crush. All the village must be here, including those who can ill afford it!’

‘Fie, sir, they are a very good sort of people, and why should they not enjoy themselves?’ Mrs Molland responded, her eyes bright as she surveyed the company. ‘I am sure we shall enjoy some lively dancing this evening. Miss Emsleigh—what a delightful gown.’

Althea spread her flounced skirts. ‘This colour is called blushing rose. It is all the rage in London.’

‘You are quite the most fashionable lady here this
evening,’ replied Rose diplomatically. Privately she thought the pink a little bright, for it clashed horribly with Althea’s yellow hair and plump red cheeks. In her opinion the gown would also be better for a little less ribbon and lace, but Althea seemed delighted with it.

‘You are very kind to say so,’ she replied, simpering. ‘Especially when it is you, Mrs Westerhill, who is always being held up to me as a model of elegance. Always so…neat.’

She means plain and drab
, thought Rose, but she was not offended. Her midnight-blue silk was not new and had only a single row of silver lace around the hem, but it suited her and she had always liked its simplicity. She glanced down at her corsage: three large white camellias pinned to her shoulder. Magnus had delivered it to the cottage that morning and impressed upon her that he had ordered the flowers to be brought down from Bristol at great expense. Since he had gone to so much trouble Rose was obliged to wear it, although she felt it was a trifle ostentatious, more a badge of ownership than regard. She chided herself for her ungratefulness, but the impression remained.

‘Of course,’ Althea continued, ‘as a widow, no one would expect you to wear a new gown on every occasion.’

Mrs Molland was quick to jump to her daughter’s defence.

‘When one has an excellent figure, like Rose, no one remembers the gown, only how lovely she looks.’

Althea gave a tinkling laugh. She smoothed her gloved hands over her skirts.

‘I am sure you must think me very extravagant to buy another new gown. I know Magnus is always complaining that I cost him a fortune.’ She giggled. ‘My poor brother cannot wait to have me married and off his hands.’

‘I do not deny it,’ Magnus replied. ‘But these things cannot be hurried and he must be a man of excellent birth and good fortune. I am seriously considering taking Althea to London next year.’ He took a step closer to Rose. ‘When I have a wife to escort her.’

‘Oh, London,’ sighed Althea, glassy-eyed. ‘How I long to be away from the country! Just think of it, parties and balls every night. And we would be able to meet some
real
gentlemen—like the one standing in the doorway!’

The change in her tone coincided with a sudden lull in conversation. Nearly everyone in the room was looking towards the entrance and Rose suspected hers was not the only heart that leapt at the sight of Sir Lawrence Daunton as he walked in. His hair was brushed back from his brow and gleamed like a raven’s wing in the candlelight. His black coat fitted so perfectly it might have been moulded to his form, and the pale waistcoat and breeches only added to the sophisticated elegance of the man. She heard Magnus harrumph and mutter, ‘Bond Street Beau,’ but there was nothing ostentatious about Lawrence’s dress. It was simplicity itself and in Rose’s opinion he looked magnificent.

‘Is he not the most handsome man you have ever seen?’ Althea gave an ecstatic sigh. ‘We danced together at the Pullens’ ball last month. So very much a gentle
man—I told him we attend the Mersecombe Assembly, but I never thought he would remember! Magnus, we must go and greet him.’

Magnus nodded. ‘If you wish. Rose?’

She stepped away, raising her hand.

‘Please, take your sister. Mama and I will go and sit down.’ She saw the concern in her mother’s eyes and forced a tiny smile. ‘It is the heat. It is a little oppressive and I need to save my energy for the dancing…’

Mrs Molland led her to the benches at the side of the room. Rose gave a sigh of relief, knowing that they were temporarily shielded from Sir Lawrence’s gaze. Magnus returned shortly after to claim her hand for the first dance and when he led her out she noticed that Lawrence was standing a little way down the line, partnering Althea. She was a little surprised to find Magnus smiling happily upon the couple.