"How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into." Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
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Chapter One
A week had passed since Emmett had announced that an American hotelier father and son had purchased Pendleton Park from Ascot. It was also the day that they were supposed to be arriving for their stay.
Rose sat idly in the library, pretending to be immersed in a novel while she watched maids scurry about dusting surfaces that had already been dusted. Even she had to admit, it was quite exciting to have two foreign guests come to Ascot. It was even more exciting to think that the once beautiful manor house, which was now quite tired, would be turned into a beautiful hotel. Perhaps, as the previous owners, she and her family might be permitted to dine there every once in a while.
"Oh, Rosie, there you are!" exclaimed Bess as she pulled Alexandra and Imogen into the library by their hands. "Could you mind Allie and Imogen for me? I need to go and speak to Mrs Weston about the menu tonight and Emmett is taking Davy to Pendleton Park to meet our guests. Lord, everyone is so frantic. Poor Mr Hartley. I fear he may have a coronary!"
Rose loved caring for her nieces, and she hoped it would fill the void as she grew to be a spinster. It saddened her at times, knowing that she would not become a mother. Although Bess, her mother Marie, and her sister Charlotte often laughed off these fears, Rose knew them to be true. She'd had a London season. Three months of balls, assemblies and dances. She'd been in rooms filled with eligible gentlemen, and the only one to ask her to dance was one who knew of her dowry, and only because Emmett had told him. Though Emmett had only been trying to appease her, it brought her to the true realisation that she was not tempting to men. Not like her beautiful sister.
While Charlotte was statuesque, slim, and beautiful, Rose was small with unremarkably plain features. Her lacklustre height overemphasised her hips, which was just another feature about herself that caused her to be self-conscious.
Bess looked unusually dressed up. Her usual loose, wavy hair was pinned up and away from her face in a neat knot. She wore a lovely sky blue gown and some beautiful jewellery pieces — a matching blue bauble around her neck and a sapphire encrusted tiara on her head. She couldn't help but think that Emmett may have insisted that she abandon her usual simple attire for their special guests. She'd never looked more aristocratic.
"Anyone would think we were hosting the King," Rose joked.
"One would think that," Bess said, smirking, "with the way Emmett is behaving. Anyway, girls, be good for Aunt Rose." With that, she left the twins and made her way swiftly from the library.
Alexandra and Imogen were very attractive children. Alexandra's hair was dark and curly, like Emmett's, and she had big hazel eyes. She was taller than Imogen, who had wispy blonde hair, but the same hazel eyes.
Alexandra, as the taller and slightly older of the two, often took charge of Imogen. She had Bess' boisterous personality. Imogen didn't seem to mind though.
"Aunt Rose, what is happening?" Alexandra asked Rose.
Rose lifted Alexandra and then Imogen up onto the settee with her, both girls getting comfortable on Rose's lap. Rose wrapped her arms around both of them. Yes, this could fill her void. "We have some very important guests joining us," Rose replied. "So you have to be on your verybest behaviour, Allie," Rose warned. "You, too, Imogen," she added, tapping her niece on the nose, making her giggle. To entertain the girls while their parents were elsewhere, Rose decided to order some sweets from the kitchen. Maids were still going about their business, walking throughout the rooms of Ascot cleaning and cleaning again. "Excuse me?" she asked, to get one of the maids' attention. Unfortunately, Rose only knew the names of a handful of maids. They came and went ever so frequently, leaving to get married and start families. She silently cursed herself for feeling envious.
A young maid turned around, looking only about eighteen years old. She had fair skin and a few curly, red tendrils slipping out from underneath her maid's cap. "Me, milady?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, what is your name?" she asked.
"Florence, milady," she replied nervously.
"Could you please go and ask Mrs Weston if she could fix Lady Alexandra and Lady Imogen something sweet to eat? She shall be occupied with the Duchess, so perhaps ask the kitchen maids."
No sooner had Florence departed the library, Charlotte entered, carrying baby Georgie in her arms. Charlotte looked frazzled herself, though she still looked effortlessly beautiful in her red silk gown. She too had decorated herself in some lovely jewels. Rose had never resented her sister's beauty as Charlotte had never flaunted it. But she'd envied it. She'd envied the attention Charlotte received, and she envied the fact that she'd once had both Nate and her previous fiancé, Eric, both vying for her.
"Nate has taken Edward and Maggie to Pendleton Park with Emmett and Davy. Apparently the Americans want to talk business before they're brought to Ascot and introduced to the wives and sisters." Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Maggie went with Nate as she was curious as to who the Americans were."
"Are they bringing their wives with them to meet us?" Rose asked curiously as Charlotte sat down on the settee next to her. While holding Georgie close to her chest, Charlotte kissed both Alexandra and Imogen and then Rose's cheek.
"I don't know," Charlotte replied honestly. "I've never heard wives mentioned, but then again, they were writing to enquire after a house. Why would they mention wives?"
"How are you?" Rose asked, changing the subject.
"Severely regretting not taking on a nanny," chuckled Charlotte. "She sleeps now." She motioned down to the quietly sleeping Georgie in her arms. "I am just tired."
"You don't look it," Rose said honestly. Georgie was a very pretty baby. She had to be. She was the product of Charlotte and Nate. Any child of theirs was bound to be gorgeous.
"Thank you, Rosie," replied Charlotte gratefully. "Where is Mama?"
Marie didn't often surface from her bedchamber, especially when preparations were being made for the American guests. While she was opposed to things being run in the way that John Wilde had instigated, she wasn't used to change. Bess was as big a change as she could handle.
"Hiding." Rose laughed lightly.
"And how are you, miladies?" Charlotte asked Alexandra and Imogen on Rose's lap, her voice changing to that of a child.
The girls only giggled, awkwardly shifting on Rose's lap so that they could see Georgie.
"And how is your friend, the Marquess?" Charlotte asked, continuing on their conversation while she let the twins play with Georgie's tiny fingers.
Michael Cornell, the Marquess of Juniper, had been the only positive to come out of Rose's horrid season in London. She'd thought him a handsome man, as well as very charming and kind. She'd also thought that he'd taken an interest in her. But he hadn't. He'd noticed that she was alone, and he thought that they could be alone together.
"Is it true that he ..." Charlotte quietened her voice. "Keeps company with men?" Charlotte spoke the word as though it was taboo.
"Hush, Charlotte," Rose scolded. "Do not spread rumours."
What she'd asked was indeed true. Michael Cornell did keep company with men. Rose was the only one he'd ever admitted it to. Otherwise it was just rumours. His family had tried to send him away for treatment as a teenager but Michael had refused, electing to instead live away from his family's estate. They hadn't spoken for years, not until Michael's father had died. He was still the heir, regardless of how he behaved behind closed doors. He became the Marquess of Juniper, and his family didn't speak to him. They treated him as if he were diseased.
Rose was unsure of how she felt about his behaviour. She'd never heard of a man keeping company with other men before, but she didn't feel as though she had any right to pass judgement. It was Michael's business, and before he'd revealed himself to her, they'd had many merry conversations. He was a friend, and in her opinion, no different to her than Emmett or Nate. His estate was in Sheffield, Derbyshire's neighbour to the north, and he often made the trip down to Ascot to visit his friend in Rose.
He'd also proposed to her on three occasions. He had no interest in a wife for romantic reasons, but he believed that he and Rose could be happy in each other's company. He also would need an heir at some point.
While Rose couldn't deny that she would be comfortable in a marriage with a friend, she also didn't want to marry for anything less than love, and if that meant no marriage at all, then so be it. Which was why she'd refused every time.
"Sorry," Charlotte apologised bashfully. "I'd just heard ..."
"Rumours," interrupted Rose. "Nasty rumours." While it was true, she did not want Michael to be ostracised. He didn't deserve it.
"Alright." Charlotte nodded, accepting Rose's word. "I wonder if either of our guests are unmarried," Charlotte pondered, changing the subject.
"Charlotte," exclaimed Rose. "You are married, if you do not remember."
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I meant for you, silly," she replied. "Wealthy hoteliers. You might be able to see America."
She had absolutely no idea of how old the two Americans were. Derek, the son, was old enough to be clever with business so he had to be at least in his twenties. But any man with a fortune and a clever head on his shoulder did already have a wife. And even if he weren't married, why would he have any interest in her?
"Because you're lovely, Rosie," Charlotte answered, as if reading Rose's mind.
"How did you know?"
"You have an identifiable look on your face when you are mentally chiding yourself. I wish you would stop. If you believe yourself worthy, others will too."
At that moment, the maid, Florence, returned to the library with a tray of miniature lemon slices.
"Oh, excellent," Charlotte said excitedly, eyeing the tray hungrily.
"Her Grace instructed me to tell you that the girls shall only be permitted one." Florence blushed. "Otherwise you will be the one trying to get them to sleep at two o'clock in the morning while the sugar is still coursing through them."
Both sisters laughed as Florence set the tray down. Bess had clearly requested that Florence relay the message exactly. Rose fished two of the lemon slices from the tray and fed them to Alexandra and Imogen. Charlotte pouted comically so Rose reached for another and popped it into Charlotte's mouth. Rose settled onto the settee with her own slice, enjoying the acidic citrus mixed with the sweetness of the sugar.
***
Several hours later, once the dinner gong had been rung and everyone had changed, the Ascot carriage was sighted entering through the iron gates. Rose had been laced into a sapphire blue gown by her lady's maid, Gabrielle. She had also completed her outfit with the London blue topaz ear bobs that Bess had given her and Charlotte for Christmas all those years ago.
She did feel she looked nice, or was dressed nicely. There was nothing particularly dazzling about her features but perhaps some fine accessories could improve her.
Marie, too, had accessorised with her favourite piece of jewellery, the black onyx necklace that Bess had given to her. Her mother did look very lovely in her dark purple gown that was decorated with fine, silver embroidery. She also wore a silver tiara and a reserved expression.
Bess had already put the girls to bed, Georgie with them, and they were in the care of Anna, her lady's maid. When David, Maggie and Edward returned with their fathers, they too would be sent upstairs to be fed and then put to bed.
Rose could hear the carriage pull up outside the house, and they all waited in the foyer to receive their guests.
Mr Hartley opened the door and they all heard Emmett's voice. "Ah, Mr Hartley. Gentlemen, Ascot's butler, Mr Hartley. We would not function without him!"
Mr Hartley chuckled bashfully. "Thank you, Your Grace." He opened the door widely and allowed the party to enter into the house.
Emmett came in first, carrying a lethargic David, while Nate followed carrying a sleeping Edward and holding Maggie's hand. Then came their mysterious guests. The first was an older man, who looked to be in his fifties. His hair was silver and neatly styled, and he wore a smart day suit, though it was not English. One could tell it was a foreign suit as it didn't wear a white cravat, more a black silk ribbon tied around the shirt collar. His trousers were not tucked into his boots and he wore a simple coat. He looked kind, though, and he wore a wide smile that crinkled the skin on his face. He had to be Stephen Montgomery.
The man that followed him was the younger version of Stephen. He looked to be of a similar age to her brother. His hair was fair coloured, and she could see from where she was standing that he had green eyes. She thought him quite handsome, though he had a look of mystery about him. He looked to be quite reserved and careful, as though he was deliberating. Perhaps this was how clever businessmen were?
No wives followed. Interesting, Rose thought. Perhaps they'd left them behind in Pennsylvania.
"Mr Montgomery," Emmett said, referring to Stephen. "This is my wife, Bess, the Duchess of Ascot." He took hold of Bess' hand and brought her forth.
Rose wondered if the two Americans had been taught how to behave in front of the British aristocracy. Both Stephen and Derek bowed respectfully to her.
"Your Grace, it's a pleasure to meet you," Stephen said sincerely, kissing her knuckles. "You must call me Stephen. We are to be cohabitating for a while." He chuckled. His voice was hearty, and strong, and his accent was completely different to Maggie's original accent.
"And you must also call me Derek," Derek added, kissing Bess' knuckles as well. Derek's voice was different to his father's. Calmer, more soothing. Rose enjoyed it.
"Stephen, Derek, it's lovely to meet you. I'll insist on being called Bess, too," she said kindly.
"Bess it is," Derek agreed.
"And you must be Momma Wilde," Stephen guessed, moving on to Marie who stood next to Bess. He held his hand out for hers but Marie refused.
Marie arched her eyebrow distastefully. "I have not, nor will I ever answer to that," she snapped. Rose internally groaned. These men would soon learn that their mother was a difficult woman to get along with at the best of times. Marie was harmless though, and she loved her family, even if she didn't show it particularly well.
Emmett cleared his throat. "This is my mother, Marie, the Dowager Duchess of Ascot."
"Dowager?" Derek furrowed his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"
"It means that she is the widow of a previous Duke," Emmett explained.
"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am," Stephen apologised sympathetically.
"I'm not," Marie huffed. "And you shall henceforth refer to me as Your Grace," she insisted.
Stephen looked a little confused, but unless one was well informed on the previous Duke and Duchess' disdain for each other then they were bound to be confused.
"This is my wife, Charlotte," Nate introduced, changing the subject and drawing the attention away from Marie. Charlotte took the sleeping Edward from Nate as she smiled in greeting.
"Lady of Montrose, correct?" Derek guessed.
"Yes, the Countess of Montrose," Charlotte corrected. "But calling me Charlotte is perfectly alright."
Derek smiled, running his hand through his fair hair. "Your peerage system is confusing. I thought a countess was the wife of a count."
"You will learn eventually," Emmett replied. "And finally, my youngest sister, Lady Rose Wilde."
Both men turned their attention to Rose. Stephen kissed her hand first, followed by Derek. She felt a little foolish as she smiled widely, enjoying their attention.
"Nice to meet you, milady," Derek said kindly.
"You, as well," she replied nervously. "Please, call me Rose."
"Derek," he countered, flashing her a smile. His smiles weren't as wide as his father's, which brought Rose back to her original assumption of him. He was reserved, as if he had a lot on his mind.
"Your Grace, dinner is served," Mr Hartley announced.
Derek, nearest to Rose, offered her his arm. "May I escort the lady to dinner?" he asked. Rose felt rather flattered. Just as soon as she'd taken his arm, he added, "You Brits encourage this, don't you?"
Rose merely nodded, realising that Derek thought it his obligation.