The Roses of Feldstone, page 12
“He’s breathing!” William shouted, and there was an audible gasp of relief from everyone in the crowd. William continued to work on the boy, rubbing his hands and legs between his hands one at a time. “Someone run for a doctor.”
A portly man who was still wearing his fine coat grabbed the shoulder of another man near him. “Run and fetch the doctor. This happened at my home; I will pay for his care.” The man hurriedly left.
There was finally a cough from the boy, and his arms and legs started flailing frantically. William placed his arms back around him, taking several blows to his face and arms, until the boy finally began to calm down.
I watched for a few moments and then turned around slowly. There was nothing I could do here, and I knew I should get back to Elizabeth. I looked down and realized I still had John’s coat in my hand. He had climbed down and was standing next to William and the boy. I walked the few yards to them and quietly handed John his coat. As I got a closer look at the child, I realized the black soot was not covering his clothing but his skin. The unfortunate child had been forced to climb and clean a flue so small he’d gotten stuck in it completely naked. I immediately pulled John’s coat back into my arms, bent down next to William, and threw it over the boy.
“I will buy you another one,” I said without looking at John to see his reaction. I hoped I hadn’t offended him.
The boy’s shivering slowed, and he tried to say something, but his voice was too hoarse, and it came out like a croak.
“Shh,” I said, placing my hand on his abdomen. “You can speak later. You need to rest.” His panicked eyes calmed slightly at my words and touch until, eventually, his flailing completely stopped.
I stood and looked at John. “Sorry about your coat.”
He smiled at me. “The boy needs it more than I do, and it was high time I got a new one. I’m going to hold you to buying me one.”
“It will be my pleasure, John. Thank you for all your help.”
“I was glad to do it. I have a little one at home . . .” He paused and gave a small cough. “It makes me sick to think of him having to endure something like this.”
The doctor arrived, and William apprised him of all that had happened. When it was clear the doctor had everything under control and there was nothing more William could do, he stood. The whole right side of his face was sooty, and his clothing was just as dirty.
“Let’s get Miss Davenport home,” William said to John. “Then afterward, if you could come to my home, I have a coat you can use until she fulfills her promise to you.”
“And the boy? How is he?” I asked William.
“It looks like he is lucky today. The doctor seemed to think he will make a full recovery. Lord Percival has offered to pay for a hospital stay to make sure he gets the care he needs.”
“A hospital? Must he stay in a hospital?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach. I had only ever heard of the dreadful conditions there, having never been allowed to set foot in one.
“John, take Rose home,” William said.
How many times must I be told to go home? By now, they must realize I make my way back to Elizabeth’s when I was ready.
“I’ll talk to Lord Percival to see if there isn’t anything else to be done about the boy,” William said. “Even though a hospital isn’t the best place to stay, I certainly don’t want him going home with the chimney sweep. It might be his only option.” William returned to the doctor and Lord Percival, and John motioned for me to head back toward Elizabeth’s home.
This time I followed John’s directions, and we walked away from the chaos that still surrounded Lord Percival’s residence.
“Couldn’t his parents take him?” I asked almost to myself.
“Most likely, he doesn’t have any,” John said.
I knew that, of course, but I was still in shock over the whole situation, and I hadn’t thought it through.
We had walked the few yards to Elizabeth’s door when I turned to see William catching up to us at a brisk jog.
“Lord Percival has agreed to let the boy—Adam is his name—stay in the servants’ quarters at his home for the next few days, at least until he is well.”
“That is good news,” I said with a sigh of relief. At least the boy would not have to spend any time in a hospital.
“How did you convince Lord Percival of that?” John asked. “He is free-handed enough with his money, but not many folks are invited to stay at his home.”
“Yes, well, he also has a penchant for fine brandy, and I happen to have an 1811 bottle—a gift from the Duke of Manwaring—that I am willing to part with,” William said.
John nodded as he made his way to the carriage so he could untie the horses. “That would do it, I suppose.”
William and I stood for a moment, watching John go about his work. “If it was a gift from a duke, I am sure it was valuable.”
William made a small sound like a cough. “Yes, well, I suppose I could have had Adam stay with me, but I assumed you would want to visit him.” He looked at what I thought must be his home, which he either felt I wouldn’t be comfortable in or I wasn’t invited to. I tried to pick out which one he was eying, but I couldn’t be sure.
“I will want to visit Adam. Thank you,” I said, not daring to ask the reason he felt I couldn’t visit the boy at his townhome. I started up the stairs and then stopped to turn back to William. A thought had been nudging my brain throughout the ordeal as I’d watched William with Adam.
“You would have been a great doctor,” I called down to him.
His right hand was on the wrought-iron railing, and one foot was on the first step of Elizabeth’s stairs as he looked up at me. “I had almost forgotten about that,” William said with a half-smile.
“You don’t often wonder about what you could have been?” I asked. “You could be helping people like this all the time.”
“Being a doctor and running an estate are both just things one does,” he said with a shrug. “Becoming the heir didn’t dictate who I have become. I have been able to help a lot of people who rely on Feldstone for their livelihood, and I imagine that is just as fulfilling as helping the sick. I am the same man I would have been regardless of how things turned out.”
I thought about how he had thoroughly ignored me after Joseph left, and I wanted to disagree. He changed completely when he became heir.
“I wonder about other things sometimes though,” William said. “Some aspects of my life may have turned out differently had I had more freedom.” His eyes went to my lips, and for an instant, I thought perhaps he was remembering the morning I came so inappropriately to his chambers. I shook the notion from my head. It must be the lady in the park he was thinking about. If Joseph were still heir, it might not be quite as scandalous for William to marry so far beneath him. That was none of my business though, I reminded myself for the hundredth time.
I gave William and John a parting smile and then finished making my way up the stairs. My hands were still shaking as I gripped the doorknob. I took a few deep breaths. I didn’t want to show Elizabeth my distress. If I was calm enough, she might not realize how desperate the situation had been.
Chapter 11
Two days later, I was back in the carriage with my mother and father, headed to Feldstone Manor. I had visited Adam both days before we’d left, and he was much improved. He was, by nature, a shy boy and didn’t speak much. More than his shyness, his wariness of his surroundings disturbed me. He was completely uncomfortable in such a large residence, even though he spent all his time near the kitchen. Any food he received, he took without question, but until it was completely swallowed, his eyes darted back and forth as if someone was about to take it from him. I hated to think what his life had been like, both in his home and with the sweep. I also hated to leave him for our trip to Feldstone.
It would be a quick stay this time, I reminded myself. We would be there only two nights. It hardly warranted the four-hour carriage ride, but Lady Chatsworth had insisted we have the dinner at their manor and not in London. My pleas of illness had fallen on deaf ears with my mother. If she was going to miss the Tingleys’ ball for this dinner, she was certain that I could miss lying in bed to recover. The fact that I had been out of the house so much to see Adam hadn’t helped my cause.
As frustrated as I was with my mother, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. She had raised five daughters, and although she was not the most loving of mothers, she had stayed with us.
The first time I visited little Adam, I had discovered that he did, indeed, have parents. They had given up on his care and sold him as an apprentice. Even as ill as he had been, they hadn’t visited him at Lord Percival’s or asked to take over his care. I shuddered at the thought of being truly abandoned.
“Are you cold, Rose? Perhaps you should get farther under the blankets. I don’t want you becoming even more ill than you already are,” Mother said.
I was cold but not for the reasons my mother was thinking. I slid closer to her and nestled myself deeper into the blankets. “Thank you, Mama, for always taking care of me. I know I have not always been the easiest of children.”
Mama looked at me in surprise.
“Of course I should take care of you, Rose! You are my daughter, after all. Can you imagine how it would look if I let you fend completely for yourself?”
“It wouldn’t look good at all,” I agreed, smiling to myself. She wasn’t perfect, but she was there.
As we hit the cobblestone driveway of Feldstone Manor, I was not mentally prepared to face this new situation. Letting go of my childhood fantasies about William and me seemed easier when I was in London. Spending time with Adam had helped me see what real trials looked like. I thought I was ready to greet this new woman without any reservations, but my bravery was quickly disappearing.
“I should probably head straight to my room, Mama. I’m really not feeling well.” Perhaps I could stay in my room for a large portion of the visit.
“Nonsense, Rose,” my mother said. “You need to greet the family, at least.”
I sighed in resignation as the two smirking lions came into view and then grew until we rolled to a stop in from of them. My father exited the carriage, and the coachman helped my mother and me. I drew in a deep breath of fresh air. As much as I didn’t want to be here, at least we were out of the dark, stuffy carriage.
A brilliant flash of color from the side garden drew my eye. There was a familiar large feather—no, three large feathers—and garish bows. It was the hat from the milliner’s shop. There could not be two such atrocities. Beneath it was the dark-haired woman from the park. I willed my muscles to relax. There was no reason to be upset about this. I needed to be happy for William. He must have told his family about her and somehow convinced his mother to agree to an engagement between the two of them. It was great news.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered her, only now her clothing was impeccable, minus the hat, of course. There was simply no excuse for that hat. Her figure was one that every woman dreamed of, a figure corsets were made for: a tiny waist with curves above and below. She was petite, the kind of woman any man would want to protect and love, not a behemoth who raised seamstresses’ eyes and made them adjust their budget for fabric. She turned to look at us, and although she was too far away for me to take in her features, I saw a brilliant flash of white, and I knew she must be smiling. This was the woman William was willing to give up everything for.
I couldn’t blame him.
The vision of womanly graces traipsed happily toward a side door, presumably to make herself presentable in order to meet us.
“Rose!” my mother said from the entrance of the manor. I hadn’t bothered to move from the spot where I had first landed. “What are you doing standing there? Come. We need to get settled before dinner.”
I caught up to my mother. No one from the family welcomed us outside the home on this visit. Perhaps it was due to the cold weather. However, as soon as the butler showed us in, Lady Chatsworth descended the massive double stairway to greet us.
“Sir John, Lady Davenport, Miss Davenport, thank you so much for coming! The men are out of the house but should be returning shortly,” Lady Chatsworth said as she motioned to her left, toward the drawing room. My dreams of spending the whole of the visit in my rooms vanished with the simple wave of her hand. “Please, make yourself at home in the drawing room. There is someone here you must meet, and she will be joining us shortly.”
A fire was roaring in the hearth of the familiar drawing room. At times, the manor had felt like a second home to me, but suddenly, it felt foreign. All the candles were lit, but it felt dimmer than usual. The bookshelves seemed farther away and the couches more impersonal. I couldn’t decide where to wait for the unnamed guest. I started toward Mama, who had found a place on the settee, but realized I didn’t want to be near anyone. Father had taken a chair by the fire, and as much as I felt the need for warmth, I didn’t want to be near him either. I decided to make my way to the bookshelf at the back of the room. I was halfway there when I realized I wanted to be sitting down and not standing. There were several other chairs to choose from, but I went to the window and sat on the deep windowsill. Hopefully, from there, I would be unnoticed and would not feel the need to speak.
The door opened, and she walked in. I had taken note of only her figure up until this point, and I couldn’t help but have a selfish desire that her face would somehow be horrible. It wasn’t. Her dark hair was pulled masterfully into a neat chignon—Lydia’s work. The simplicity of her hairstyle drew attention to her facial features. Her large blue eyes were a startling contrast to her dark hair, and they were framed by lashes so dark and thick they could have been drawn in William’s charcoal. Her lips were a perfect rosebud. I suddenly felt dowdy. I had endured a week of irregular sleep and inconsistent appetite. Not only that, I was rumpled and creased from the carriage ride. I was familiar enough with how pale and hollow my face looked when my stomach was this upset to know there was no comparison between this vision in lilac and myself.
“Let me introduce you to my daughter-in-law,” Lady Chatsworth said from near the door. Her hand caught the other woman’s tenderly.
Daughter-in-law.
There was a roaring in my ears, and I couldn’t take in what else Lady Chatsworth said or what was going on around me. This was not a random woman William had decided to introduce to his family. They had already married. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Worse than a carriage ride. My hands shook as I gripped the edge of the windowsill. I needed to get out of the room. But first I needed to breathe deeply enough to clear away the dark spots forming on the outer edges of my vision.
The drawing room door opened once again, this time with more force, as if the person coming in was too impatient to let the swing of the door open at its natural rate.
“Look who I have stolen from the nursery!” William said, holding a baby up for all to see. It wasn’t a new baby but one who was large enough to be walking. I gripped the windowsill even harder and put my head down. A wife. A baby. William’s words from outside his bedchamber rang through my ears. There is nothing for us in the future; it’s impossible.
Impossible. Because he had a wife and a child.
“Give me my granddaughter,” I heard Lady Chatsworth say through the rushing noise in my ears. A strange noise escaped my lips, and I realized it was a laugh. Lady Chatsworth finally had a daughter, and a granddaughter to boot. No wonder she was looking so well.
My strangled laugh caused William to look over at me. I didn’t know if he noticed I was there until that moment. He had been too busy showing off his child, his daughter. Deep lines of concern suddenly appeared on his face. He handed the babe over to his mother and started to walk toward me. I curled up in the windowsill, my legs balled up underneath my skirt.
“Rose,” he said.
I couldn’t help it. At the sound of my Christian name on his lips, I laughed again. I knew I was flirting with a breakdown, and I made myself sit up straighter.
“Has the carriage made you ill?” he asked, worry coloring his voice. His gray eyes examined me up and down, and despite the tenderness I saw in them, I knew what he was seeing: a haggard, wild woman sitting in a window on the brink of doing something insane, someone who would never compare to his beautiful wife.
“I think I might be ill,” I said to everyone because I knew there was no other excuse for my behavior. “Please excuse me while I go to my room.”
I stood and brushed past William without meeting his eyes again. I couldn’t handle the pity I saw there. My vision blurred, and I knew if I didn’t get out of the room quickly, angry tears would escape, and then William—kind William, who couldn’t handle even letting a small animal suffer—would be forced to find some way to try and help me. It would be much more than I could bear.
I managed a small nod to Lady Chatsworth and Miss—no, Mrs. Flawless—before I stormed out of the room. William had left the door open, so I didn’t even have to fumble with the doorknob or wrestle with the heavy door. I looked only at my feet as my pace quickened to a run. I can spend the rest of the evening in my room, I chanted to myself. I am obviously ill; no one will question that. By tomorrow I will have accustomed myself to the situation. In the morning I will make sure there are no traces of my feelings for William. I wasn’t watching where I was going as my whole world seemed like it was behind me. It was a mistake. I crashed into someone.
“Oomph.” The man sounded as if I had punched him in the gut, which I essentially had done, but just with my head. I looked up to apologize, expecting to see the butler, but found William instead.
