Arm in arm, the couple returned to the Drawing Room. A card table had been set up and tea had already been brought in. "I'm afraid my brother was not able to remain," Evan announced, no doubt to stave off questions immediately.
"That is a shame," Mr. Williams said, though his tone held no real regret. "We were about to start a game of whist, West. Care to join us?"
Squeezing his wife's hand one last time, Evan went to join the gentlemen at the card table. Breathing out a sigh, Rosalind went to where the ladies were seated. Emily handed her a cup of tea, a questioning expression in her eyes. "Thank you, Em," Rosalind said as she accepted the cup. She forced a smile to reassure her cousin.
"I was just trying to convince Miss Cooper to remain with us until after our picnic in two days," Emily said, gesturing to the lady. "There really is no hurry to return to your great-aunt, is there?"
"I'm afraid there is," Miss Smith said firmly She was staring at Miss Cooper with narrowed eyes. "Miss Daly is an elderly woman, as we've told you. She expects Miss Cooper to return tomorrow and it would be unwise if we were to worry her over something trivial."
"Oh, but what about your gowns," Emily exclaimed. "Surely you cannot expect Mrs. Leigh to have them ready after one night."
"I wrote to Mrs. Leigh with my measurements last month," Miss Cooper said quietly. "She would have sent them to me, but I asked to pick them up." She glanced quickly at her companion. "Miss Smith and I will make any adjustments necessary once we have returned to Wallace House, but I am sure Mrs. Leigh did a marvelous job."
It was difficult not to express surprise at such an arrangement. Rosalind sipped her tea and held her tongue. It was not for her to judge how another person chose to arrange their affairs, after all. Perhaps it was the best way for the young lady to arrange the situation.
"What a shame," Mrs. Melbourne said, shaking her head. "Mrs. Williams has invited the entire neighborhood to the picnic. It sounds as though it will be great fun for all."
Miss Cooper made a sound that could have meant anything. "Rosalind, would you play for us?" Emily asked, changing the subject. "It's been so long since I've heard you."
"I would be delighted," Rosalind said in relief. Playing would give her hands something to do. She would be able to focus on something other than whether everyone in the room was curious about why Lord Emberdown had come.
****
Though rain poured down the next morning, Miss Cooper insisted she could put off her departure no longer. Nothing Emily said could sway her from the decision. A message was sent into Ambershire and the inn's coach hired. The lady and her companion took their leave mid-morning as much a mystery as when they'd arrived.
As the rain continued through the day, the men occupied themselves with billiards, leaving the ladies to write letters, read, or sew. Rosalind chose to read her father's journal, trusting the others would not question her about her reading material.
Sitting next to the window, Rosalind found her attention on the raindrops running down the glass instead of on her father's words. It was difficult to find pleasure in the company or to focus on what she was reading when concerns weighed on her mind. How were she and Evan to smooth things with his family without humiliating themselves? What could they do to put an end to the rumors?
She couldn't work out answers to her questions. Even when they were alone in their room, Evan refused to speak about the matter.
The Smithsons came to dinner that evening, and again Rosalind put on an impassive face for the company. She couldn't help but feel sorry that Lord Selkirk was faced with two evenings in a row with an unmarried young lady. Unlike Miss Cooper, Miss Smithson set out to be as agreeable and a flirtatious as she could with the earl.
When Rosalind woke the day of the picnic, she could see the sun shining weakly through the window. Evan had already left the bedroom, much to her disappointment. "A letter for you, my lady," Ingram said as she set the breakfast tray on Rosalind's lap.
Apprehensively, Rosalind stared at the sealed letter resting on the tray. Her stomach twisted and not just from the nausea that had plagued her once again that morning. The handwriting was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen it.
"Thank you," Rosalind said, dismissing her openly curious maid with a nod. Some instinct made her certain this was not a message she wanted to read with an observer on hand. "I will ring for you when I wish to dress."
When she was once again alone, Rosalind took a deep breath. She reached out and gingerly lifted the letter. The seal was unremarkable, and she broke it with ease. She unfolded the paper and began to read, her eyes widening at each word.
My dearest Lady,
I hope this finds you well. I dare not suppose you are pinning for me as much as I am for you. London is empty without your sweet manners and charming smile, little though you deigned to bestow either on me.
For a moment, Rosalind wanted nothing more than to crumple the letter into a ball and throw it into the fireplace. Only one man had ever tried such sickening flattery. A glance at the bottom of the page revealed two initials: J.R.
"John Rowley," Rosalind said, scowling at the paper. "What trouble are you trying to stir up now?"
Surely by now, you have heard from your lovely sister-in-law what the old gossips have been spreading with so much glee. Of course, I cannot lie and deny the passion I have for you, Fair Rosalind. Even penning your name sends a thrill through my heart.
At the same time, I confess to being affected by the distress I know you must be feeling. What, I wonder, would you give to have these rumors banished by a strong voice? What would your husband pay to save your reputation? His family cannot like this change in circumstance.
Gasping, Rosalind sat straight up, heedless of her tea. The tea splashed across the bedclothes as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "That snake! How dare he? He cannot mean—"
But what else could he mean?
I know this to be a serious matter for you to consider over your morning chocolate. Think, my dearest Rosalind. It would bring me much pleasure to be your knight and champion in this matter. I await your response with eager anticipation.
Yours,
J.R.
Her hands shaking, Rosalind folded the letter. Though she knew it would be further fuel to the angry already brewing in her husband, she knew without a doubt Evan had to see this latest insult. How her husband would react, she couldn't even begin to imagine.
I know this to be a serious matter for you to consider over your morning chocolate.
That phrase rang through Rosalind's mind, and she unfolded the paper to make sure she had read the words correctly. She had. The ink was stark against the paper, the words unmistakable.
"How on earth did he know I usually have chocolate in the morning?" Rosalind said aloud, unsettled by the question. "How would he know I would receive this with my breakfast tray? The post could be delivered at any time."
If they'd been at her brother-in-law's townhouse, she would have had an entire household to be suspect. However, she was in the country. It wasn't possible Emily's servants would have had contact with Rowley, was it? Such an idea made no sense.
Her maid.
The thought came to her in an instant. It was the only possible way Rowley could have known her morning routine. Ingram, who was supposed to be loyal, must have told him. Who else could have done so? Who else would have been close enough to know such detail about her life?
There was not a moment to lose. This could not go unexplored or punished if it were true. Rosalind grasped the pull rope and gave it a forceful tug. She pulled on her dressing gown and then waited for her maid to return.
Ten minutes passed before Ingram entered. "Ready to dress already, ma'am?" the woman asked as though everything was normal. Her gaze moved to the overturned tea, and she frowned. "Oh, dear. What happened? Let me clean that up."
"A moment, Ingram. The letter you brought me on my tray, when did it arrive?" Rosalind asked, getting straight to the point.
A wary expression came to Ingram's face. "With the post, ma'am, as it usually does," she said slowly. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "It didn't come by special messenger if that's what you were wondering."
"I wasn't, but thank you for clarifying," Rosalind said, keeping her tone even. "Which post did it come with? Yesterday's or this morning's?"
The woman shifted slightly. "Yesterday's, ma'am? What reason would I have to hold back post from one day to hand to you on another?" she asked. Her eyes flicked to the right for the briefest second.
"Why, indeed," Rosalind said, noting the maid's unease. "Ingram, I have one more question for you, and complete honesty is what I expect when you answer me. Has anyone ever offered you money to know my daily routine?"
Ingram's eyes shifted to the side for a moment. "Of course not."
"I see," Rosalind said, not believing a word of what the woman said. She pulled on every ounce of dignity she had in her. "You may return to London and collect what pay is owed you. I'm sure Lady Thomas' housekeeper will write you a suitable reference."
Ingram's eyes widened. "My lady?"
"I am certain my cousin will have someone who can assist me until I can hire a maid I know I can trust." Rosalind gestured to the door. "You may go. I hope whatever Mr. Rowley paid you was worth it."
For a moment, Ingram stared with her mouth ajar. Then, she recovered herself, straightening her shoulders. "Very well. My lady." Disdain practically dripped in her tone as she spoke. She bobbed the briefest of curtsy and left the room.
Breathing out, Rosalind tried to let go of the anger that still raged in her heart. Her sister-in-law had been the one to hire Ingram on Rosalind's behalf, insisting it was necessary to have a well-qualified maid to assist in all matters of dressing. Rosalind had never imagined the woman would betray her confidence in such a way.
"I am well rid of her," Rosalind said aloud.
But what lies might the maid now spread once she reached London? The news that Lady Evan Westwood was expecting a child? That John Rowley sent letters to her? Not lies at all, but taken out of context they would be unwanted fuel to fire the rumors.
Feeling as though she had gone back in time, Rosalind selected her own gown for the day and dressed without assistance. She sat in front of the mirror and arranged her hair in a low chignon. It was simpler than what she wore in the past year, but she felt more herself and proud she'd done so without help.
Glancing at the stained bedclothes, Rosalind went to the pull rope and tugged it firmly. She hoped one of the household maids would answer the summons and not go in search of Ingram to handle the matter. As she waited, Rosalind picked up the teapot and cup and placed them right side up on the tray.
Fifteen minutes passed, and the door opened. "I'm sorry for the delay, ma'am," the girl said as she entered. "I couldn't find your maid. Is there something you need?"
"Yes. My maid has been dismissed," Rosalind said, getting straight to the point. "I'm afraid most of my breakfast ended up on the bed, and the bedclothes will need to be replaced."
The girl's eyes widened as she took in the damage done. "Oh, my. Yes, my lady, I will clean this up right away," she said respectfully.
"Thank you," Rosalind said sincerely. "I know this adds to your workload."
"Not at all, my lady," the maid said. She visibly hesitated. "Would you like me to bring you up a new breakfast tray first?"
Breathing out, Rosalind shook her head. "No. I may as well go down to join the others now. I wouldn't want to get in your way or cause more work than necessary."
The maid managed a smile before she set to work stripping the bedclothes from the bed. Feeling guilty about causing such a mess, Rosalind picked up her father's journal and left the room. Though she knew she ought to eat something, anxiety and residual anger made her stomach twist in such a way she didn't want to risk it.
Instead, she made her way to the library. She expected to find the room empty, but Mr. Williams was already there. "Lady Evan," the man said before she could retreat from the doorway. "I wasn't expecting company at this time of day, but you are more than welcome. Come in and sit down."
"Thank you," Rosalind said, feeling her cheeks heat up. "It was not my intention to disturb you at your work."
"Not at all. Do sit down."
Embarrassed, Rosalind did as he bid, gripping the journal tightly. "Have you added much to your collection, Mr. Williams?" she asked, searching for some topic of common ground. "I know you took great pride in it when last I visited."
"I haven't found anything worthwhile in some time," the man said with a rueful smile. "Emily has tried to convince me there is a shocking lack of novels in my collection." He shrugged his shoulders. "I have not yielded. Yet."
Somehow, Rosalind knew it was only a matter of time and said as much. Mr. Williams laughed. "True. That is why I added the word 'yet.' Keeping Emily happy is the sole purpose of my life now."
"You are succeeding. I've never seen my cousin happier than she is now," Rosalind said honestly.
"My only wish is that you and West could be as happy."
"We are," Rosalind said quickly to reassure him. She forced a smile. "We may have hit a rough patch with these gossips and meddlers, but does not every marriage have their own troubles?"
"If there is anything I can do to help, you need only say the word," Mr. Williams said, his tone serious.
Touched by his sincerity, Rosalind managed a nod. "Yes, I know. Thank you for your loyalty and kindness. I don't know what Evan and I would have done without someone believing in us."
"Faced down the entirety of London society on your own, I would imagine."
An image came to mind of her and Evan standing on a battlefield with the matrons of the ton standing on the other side, frowning their disapproval. She resisted the urge to laugh. "True enough."
"What happened to send you into hiding here?"
Glancing at him, Rosalind decided to be honest. "I discovered my maid has been sending information about me to Mr. Rowley in London. He is now intimately aware of my morning routine in a way no man save my husband has a right to know."
Mr. Williams straightened up. "I take it you did not hire this maid in the first place?"
"My sister-in-law made the suggestion, and I saw no problems in the references that were provided," Rosalind said with a sigh. "I haven't seen Evan to tell him this latest bad news. I'm almost afraid of what he will do when he knows."
"West does have a bit of a temper at times," Mr. Williams said, nodding his understanding. "I'll have a word with the housekeeper to make sure the woman leaves as soon as possible. No doubt there is a maid in the household who would be eager to assist you while you a"
Smiling her appreciation, Rosalind relaxed her grip on the journal. "I can't help but feeling—" She broke off.
"What is it? Something I can help with?"
"I don't know. I've been reading my father's journal," Rosalind said, trying to explain herself. "I haven't reached the end, but his later entries are...worrisome. He mentions being under an obligation, something he didn't wish for my mother to know." She gave a slight laugh. "I suppose I can only see the similarities between him and me."
"Under an obligation?" Mr. Williams repeated. "Odd phrasing." He tilted his head. "Has someone tried to impose an obligation on you, Lady Evan?"
The note from Mr. Rowley fairly burned in her pocket. "I think he would like to try."
"And—please correct me if I'm wrong in my assumption—this obligation is phrased in such a way that it would be detrimental to yourself and my friend if you were to use the note to send this person on his way."
"You understand me perfectly." Rosalind shook her head. "I really meant to keep this to myself until I could tell Evan. He would prefer as few people as possible know the worst details about this situation."
Mr. Williams nodded in understanding. "Perhaps a lawyer could advise you on the best way to proceed. I know West has his own lawyers to oversee business aspects and such, but if a second opinion is needed, I would be happy to make a recommendation."
His words made sense and Rosalind nodded. "It may be better to hear counsel from a lawyer who has not been used by the earl."
"I will suggest it to West later on."
"I don't suppose you know where I could find Evan?" Rosalind asked hopefully.
Her host shook his head. "Last I knew, he went for an early morning ride."
"Well, then, I will simply have to wait for him. Thank you for listening so patiently." Suddenly embarrassed by the confidences she had shared, Rosalind rose and escaped from the room.
If Evan had gone riding, he would return to the stable before the picnic. And she would be waiting for him.