The Roses of Feldstone, page 14
“Sorry, William,” Joseph said in a voice that didn’t sound sorry at all. “Father and I agree on this one. Lucinda would never be comfortable keeping up with the social requirements of being married to an earl. And as far as staying, I understand you would be comfortable with us here, but you are planning to marry soon, and I doubt too many wives would agree with the idea of the former heir running amok in her home.”
“But, Joseph, India! It is so far away!” Lady Chatsworth continued.
“We will return. We aren’t planning on living there forever. If you want more grandchildren around next year, I am afraid that will be up to William.” He gave his brother a shove with his shoulder. “How is the bride search going, by the way?” Joseph chuckled as he saw William get instantly uncomfortable.
“Oh, I don’t know what is taking him so long,” Lady Chatsworth said. “There are plenty of eligible young ladies. He just needs to draw their attention and pick one.”
Joseph laughed outright. “If there are so many interested women, why have we seen no evidence of it? Perhaps they have heard about how you spent your school days being teased for drawing rather than wrestling with the other boys.”
“His drawing is a real talent,” I heard myself say. I had wanted to say it to Joseph so many times when I was younger but hadn’t had the confidence. I was no fifteen-year-old now, and I would probably never get another chance to express my feelings to Joseph.
“It is at best a hobby,” his father said with a shrug, and I didn’t dare contradict him. So much for my bravery. “As silly as it is, I doubt it has anything to do with the ladies dragging their feet.”
“What could the problem be, then? I thought we would be beating off women with a stick by now,” Lady Chatsworth said in frustration.
“Perhaps we need a young woman’s perspective,” the earl said. “Miss Davenport, what do you think?” There was a loud clink as my empty fork fell from my hands. “Finding a match shouldn’t be a problem at all. You would be happy to make a match with someone as illustrious as my William, wouldn’t you?” Lord Chatsworth asked.
I quickly looked away from William, hoping he hadn’t noticed my stare. But my eyes were instantly drawn back to him, as were everyone else’s. William had been unfortunate enough to have taken a sip of wine just as his father had mentioned me. He was sputtering and coughing while in desperate search for his napkin. He finally found it in his lap, and with great effort, he swallowed hard and regained his composure. I counted myself lucky that all I had done was drop my fork. Fortunately, William’s near-death experience at the thought of being tied to me distracted everyone at the table and saved me from having to answer the earl.
When William finally settled down, he placed his napkin back in his lap, cleared his throat, and turned to his father. “Father, what do you mean?” His voice was slightly hoarse from his unfortunate run-in with the wine. “I have known since Joseph—” he began, and then with a look at his mother and Joseph, he rephrased. “I know I owe it to you and Mother to marry whom you choose, and I had never thought Rose would be an option.” He lowered his voice. “I specifically remember you saying only the daughter of a peer would do.” He looked nervous. His face was pale, and his breathing had still not returned back to normal after his coughing fit.
“Oh, I remember,” the earl said. “I said that because I was so upset with what a terrible choice your brother had made. You are smart enough not to make the same mistake as your brother, I assume.”
“Reginald!” Lady Chatsworth exclaimed with a pointed look at Mrs. Lawrence.
“She doesn’t speak English, my dear,” he said, ignoring the fact that his son did. “I wanted to show Joseph how much better you could do. Truthfully, I still expect you to. Even with this ambitious deadline, there will be time to find a woman of good standing, but Miss Davenport?” The earl laughed heartily, and although it was comical to me also, I couldn’t help but be defensive. What was so wrong with me that I couldn’t even hypothetically be worthy of his precious son? “Why, she is much too young for you! Of course it couldn’t be Miss Davenport. How old are you now, young lady? Fifteen?” he asked.
“I am eighteen this last August, my lord.”
“Eighteen!” Lady Chatsworth cried from the other end of the table. “Why, that is perfect!” She clapped her hands. “Oh, Reginald, Rose would be a wonderful choice. It would be so easy. She is practically a daughter already, and I know she would make William happy!”
I wanted to ask her if she had even seen us interact during the past two years. I could make William a lot of things, but happy wasn’t one of them. How had our discussion turned to this? I looked at William, willing him to put a stop to the conversation. He couldn’t have wanted to hear this any more than I did.
He looked like he was about to speak, but my mother managed to pipe up first. “I am not so sure Rose doesn’t already have an agreement with another young gentleman,” my mother said, clearing her throat.
“Mama!” I said. I had no agreements, and I was quite confident she knew that.
“Well, Lord Blakeley has shown you remarkable attention of late, and you haven’t seemed to mind this year,” Mother said.
“Well, if she already has a gentleman, there is no more need to discuss this.” Lord Chatsworth’s voice was heavy with relief. He must not have been as inclined to join our families as Lady Chatsworth was.
“There is no agreement, Mama. Please don’t speculate,” I told her and everyone else.
“Well, if there is no agreement between Rose and Lord Blakeley, I see no reason why she can’t marry William,” Lady Chatsworth said.
“Mother . . .” William said calmly. He couldn’t like where this conversation was headed. He had told me in plain words that anything between the two of us was impossible. “These are questions I should be asking Rose in private,” he said quietly. My eyes flew to his in shock. He seemed calm now, his face guarded in his usual mask of indifference. Apparently, I was the only one now who felt like sputtering and coughing. Perhaps I should take a sip of wine as an excuse. He must have seen my dismay, for he quickly added, “Assuming she will talk to me at all anymore.”
Lady Chatsworth smiled at the idea and then happily turned her attention to the soup.
In private.
Why would he need to speak to me about this in private? I knew he was not interested in marriage to me, despite what his mother had said. Perhaps he didn’t want to be rude here at the dinner table. William was the kindest person I knew to everyone else but me. He wouldn’t want to disappoint them by publicly humiliating me.
I suppose that was kind after all.
As my mother and Lady Chatsworth moved their conversation to the new fashions gaining popularity in London, William and I ate in silence. The overly large dining room felt cavernous and morose. The rest of my dinner tasted bland, and the sound of the cutlery hitting the china was jarring. My father tried several times to engage Lord Chatsworth in conversation, but Lord Chatsworth seemed distracted and favored him only with grunts and one-word answers. It was a relief when the time finally came for the women to leave for the drawing room.
Chapter 14
I was too restless to stay with my mother in the drawing room after dinner. I felt a little remorse abandoning Joseph’s pretty little wife. It wasn’t going to be fun for her to listen to my mother’s few words of Spanish spoken as if Mrs. Lawrence were deaf. I hoped Lady Chatsworth would be able to handle the two of them on her own.
I excused myself, fetched my coat, and headed out to the garden for a walk. It was cold enough that I was convinced no one would follow. The roses in the back garden had long ago been pruned, and only the dry branches poked up through the small dusting of snow on the ground. William hasn’t managed to have these bushes pulled out yet, I thought. And then I remembered that he hadn’t pulled the entry roses out; his father had. The number of things I had misjudged William for was beginning to be astounding. I walked over to the dry bushes and inhaled a scent that was no longer there. I’m not sure how long I stayed that way, just breathing in and out the imagined perfume of my namesake, when I heard a familiar crunch of feet on the gravel walkway. How was it that I knew the sound of his footsteps?
“Rose,” William said before he reached my spot in the garden. We would definitely need to start being more formal once he found a fiancée. “I thought I might find you here.”
My breath caught as I turned to look at him. He hadn’t bothered to fasten his coat, and it billowed out behind him as he made his way purposely toward me. The biting wind caught his hair and toyed with it, pulling it this way and that. His eyes were purposeful and resolute. I imagined a surgeon’s eyes would have such a sharp focus. In his hand, however, he did not hold a surgical knife but a blush-colored, hothouse rose. Where in the world had he been able to find that?
He stopped a few feet in front of me. “William,” I said, wondering how many more chances I would have to call him that. We both just looked at each other. William ran his fingers through his hair and mussed it slightly. I pulled my hands behind my back. It would be highly inappropriate for me to fix it.
“I have something to ask you, and I am not sure how to go about it,” he said hesitantly. “I am suddenly overcome with inadequacies and, more than that, regret for the way I have treated you these past two years.”
A painful bud seemed to sprout in my chest at his words. It hurt, but it had an edge of hope burning inside it. I couldn’t decide if I should remove it from my chest or let it grow. More than anything, though, I felt that I couldn’t face it right this moment; whatever William’s question—be it a proposal or an entreaty to stay away from him so his mother wouldn’t get such ridiculous ideas—I wasn’t ready for it. “It is wonderful to see your brother again,” I said quickly, hoping to derail whatever it was William had come to talk with me about.
His thick eyebrows pulled together, and eventually he gave a quick nod. “It has been good to have him home, especially for my mother.”
“I am surprised at your father. I wouldn’t have expected him to let him in the home, let alone buy him a commission as an officer so he could earn a living in India.”
“Ah, yes,” William said. His features were suddenly schooled into showing no emotion, as if he were trying to hide something from me.
“Oh,” I said.
“Oh, what?” he asked, his fingers delicately touching the petals on the flower he’d brought. He was trying to look innocent.
“You paid for his commission.” He stopped toying with the rose in his hands and gave a shrug.
“That must have cost a fortune.”
“The land really has increased in productivity,” he said. “In the worst-case scenario, buying that commission means I may not be able to throw money away at White’s for a year or two.”
“You never have set foot in White’s.”
“That is not true. I was elected last year, and Father made sure I went.”
“Well, you don’t gamble money away there.”
“How would you presume to know that?”
“Because I know you.”
“Do you, Rose?” His eyes seemed cloudy, like a storm was brewing just under the surface. “Do you know why I have followed you here?” he asked. “I think you might, and I am worried that you so obviously wanted to control the topic of conversation. It doesn’t bode well for my endeavor that you want to postpone my speaking of it.” He sighed. “But I am afraid I cannot postpone speaking. Not now that I finally have hope.” He stepped closer to me; we were only inches apart. He still smelled of sandalwood, just as he had outside of his bedroom weeks ago.
“First and foremost, I feel that I have some explaining to do. One of the things I need you to know is that I promised my father after Joseph ran away that I would marry whomever he wished.”
“I did hear something like that at dinner.” William was to be an earl. I would’ve been more surprised if they had given him leave to marry whomever he wanted.
“I’ve wished thousands of times that I never made that promise. But you were here when Joseph left. You saw what it did to my family. I didn’t dare add to my parents’ worries.”
William walked over to the empty rosebushes. He bent over and breathed in their imagined scent just as I had done not long ago. It was a strange thing to do when he held a fresh rose in his hand. He smiled. “You know, even when you are gone, every summer, these roses are still here, goading me with their scent.” He straightened and cleared his throat. “Soon after I gave my word that I would marry only according to my parents’ wishes, I discovered you would never be a choice. My father made that very clear when he made me heir. He was adamant about me marrying very well for my station. I never in a million years would have imagined that you would have been considered an option.” The air left my lungs in a painful rush. Of course he hadn’t; William had only ever seen the worst in me, but hearing him say it hurt.
I started back toward the house. I didn’t want to hear whatever it was he was going to say next.
He was faster than I. He came up behind me in an instant and grabbed my elbow. I stopped but didn’t turn to face him. His hand slid from my elbow to my hand, and he took it in his own. I took one more step forward, but he didn’t let go. We stood there like that for a time, my hand behind me, lifted in the air slightly by the pressure of William’s hold on it. Feldstone Manor was in my view. If I could get there, I would be safe, it seemed to say.
“After you left the dining room, I couldn’t stop thinking about what my mother said. She looked so happy at the thought of a union between us.” He paused a moment, and I felt his hand squeeze mine slightly. “She has been so ill, and although she is doing better now, I am afraid unless I am engaged before Joseph leaves, she will be ill again.” He cleared his throat. “For this to be the thing that could cure her, it would make me the happiest man on earth. My mother is willing to overlook any inequality in station, and I am hoping you will be able to overlook how utterly abominable I have been to you.” Again, a pause during which he inhaled and exhaled deeply as if to fortify himself. “What I am saying, Rose”—his hold on my hand tightened—“I’m wondering if you would have me as a husband?”
I closed my eyes slowly but still did not turn to face him. I was afraid to meet his eye. This couldn’t be happening. If I waited long enough, I would wake up, or William would laugh it all off as a joke.
I waited, and so did William. There were no birds outside this time of year, no creatures making noise. The only sounds in the garden were those of the wind and our breathing. He wanted me to answer his question. Perhaps he was serious. I opened my eyes to take in the gardens around me and the massive manor in front of me. I tried to imagine my life here with William. Would we go back to how we were before? Or would he continue to ignore me and insult me, marrying me only for his mother’s health? When I didn’t answer right away, he tried again, his voice quieter this time. “I need to know, Rose. Even if it is just to please my mother, to help her keep her health, would you have me?”
I lifted my free hand to my mouth and bit down sharply on my forefinger. I needed something to ground me in reality. He didn’t want me. The dream of newly planted rosebushes in the front courtyard vanished before it was even fully formed in my mind. I knew William couldn’t want this, but he was willing to tolerate me to give his mother back her health. I thought of the old William, my William, and I closed my eyes, trying to remember him as he had been. I had loved him then. He had been my first love. I could admit it to myself now, but I had always known nothing could come of it, even then.
Here was my chance though. Was I willing to marry him, even knowing it was not for love that he asked me but only to restore his mother’s health? It scared me to think that I might. “To please your mother,” I found myself saying, feeling oddly removed from the situation. “I might be able to do it.” I turned to face him now and was startled by how close he was. I slowly pulled my hand out of his grasp. “But I need some time, William. We haven’t exactly been on friendly terms lately.” He didn’t seem satisfied with my answer. His boot traced a pattern in the dirt.
“Do you think we could make a go of it? I mean, we could try harder to get along,” he finally said.
I laughed. “Get along? Have you not been here the last two years? We can’t even speak to each other without causing pain.”
“That was my fault,” he said. “You know I wasn’t always that way with you.”
“But how can I agree to this when I don’t which version of you I would be marrying?” Would he be the William of the past? Could we become friends again? Or would I be ignored and be a wife in name only? I noticed his jaw clench. The flower in his hand bent at a funny angle. He had ruined the stem with his iron grip. “Let us see reason,” I continued. “You are no longer kindness personified.” William’s face blanched. When Joseph had called him that, I had thought it was true. For some reason, it had bothered William to be called kind. Joseph had always thought of him as weak. Kindness, together with his drawings, was proof to Joseph that William wasn’t much of a man.
“I might have been that once, but not anymore. Is that what you are saying?” His face was darker now but not with the anger I had seen in him at Mrs. Wright’s. It looked to me like a deep sadness and despair. I stepped away from him, and his eyes dulled at the movement. “How do I seem to you now, Rose, if, as you say, I am no longer kind?” His voice was oddly even. As if he were trying to show me my answer didn’t matter to him. “Am I just a blackguard who says and does whatever he pleases?”
I shook my head in denial. I wanted to retract and start again. I didn’t think that terribly of him, and if we really were serious about an engagement, it was time I tried to see more of the good side of William again.
