Copyright to VedaPettigrew
The next morning found Rosannah pacing the hall with excitement as she awaited the return of the coach bringing her beloved new Papa. It was fair scandalous that she call him that, but she truly felt he had earned the right to the endearment, and she had loved the way his eyes sparkled last night even as he told her she should not.
Henry had said if it made her happy, he did not care a jot for what the gossips would say. When she had fretted it might be too cruel to her own father he had exploded with rage, furious that she would put any care towards the Baron's pride and practically demanded that she call Maestro, Papa.
And who was she to refuse her husband's wishes?
He had gone out this morning as soon as they arose but assured his return for lunch. She had spent the morning preparing a suite of rooms for her Papa. Henry had advised her on which ones were the most suitable and as soon as she stepped inside she had discovered a set of splendid rooms that proved to her he was serious about considering the Maestro as real family.
They had surprised Jameson and Mrs Swift when he announced the new, permanent addition to the household and Rosannah had been amused by their stunned faces. Despite the shock, Mrs Swift was most helpful getting the rooms ready which made things much easier, especially as she knew all the resources in the house and was able to suggest things that Rosannah had not thought of.
The result was a set of three rooms; one for sleeping, a sitting room which would hopefully house a piano of his own once more, he had been forced to sell the last one to fund his journey home, but would also be used for entertaining if he should so wish. The last room was suitable for dining in, for when he wished to spend time alone as Rosannah knew he would. He had lived alone for a long time.
There was enough furniture in the rooms to be comfortable and enough space to fill with his own trinkets. She did not know how long he would live with them, but he would always have these rooms as his own.
The sound of horse hooves on the cobblestones caught her attention and she ran to the window and sure enough saw him disembarking from the carriage, looking up at the house before him in awe.
Jameson opened the front door and she stood waiting for him to be announced. As soon as the door opened, she ran to him and gave him another embrace. She really had missed him so much and last night's short conversation had not been enough to satisfy her.
"Papa," she cried happily, before Jameson had time to announce him. She glanced at the butler who was turning his own peculiar shade of red. She giggled inwardly and called to him before he could exit the room.
"Jameson, you obviously have met Maestro. He is family to me and should be treated accordingly by all the staff. Please make sure you all introduce yourselves to him, he loves meeting new people do you not Papa?"
"Yes indeed," Maestro looked to Jameson with a twinkle in his eye. "You must be a good man if my Leetle One does not fumble 'er words wiz you." He held his hand out to Jameson who took it in shock.
"Yes, ahem, well welcome to the household Maestro." Jameson blushed at the compliment and Rosannah laughed gently.
"Thank you Jameson, will you please have some tea brought through? And some of Cook's sweets? Papa, I know you will love them."
She practically dragged him to the sofa and sat him down, sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder. Her arm threaded through his so tightly she feared his hand would numb, but she could not bring herself to let go.
"Oh Papa, I am glad you are home. I truly missed you," she breathed out and tucked her feet under her to lean into his side more.
"I loved receiving your letters, I read and re-read them, it was almost as if I as in Italy with you. But it was not the same as having you here and seeing you most every day."
She felt him kiss the top of her head before he leant back, taking her with him. "I am glad to be 'ere wiz you again. It was wondairful seeing my 'ome and being wiz la mia famiglia. But I missed ma leetle Rosannah."
They sat in comfortable silence, their frequent letters had been truthful and detailed, and there would be plenty of time to talk about the events of the last few weeks, for now Rosannah simply sought the balm of his presence. Familiar feelings of peacefulness and relief hummed through her as they watched out the window and enjoyed the beauty before them.
The sound of the tea tray being set down startled both of them, so lost in the moment.
"Sorry yer Grace," the maid said fretfully, "I did not intend to alarm you."
"No Alice, do not worry. We were just mesmerised by the beauty of the gardens. Thank you for the tea. We shall be finished shortly and then I will take Maestro to his rooms. I trust his trunks have all been set there safely?"
"Yes M'um." Alice nodded her head.
"Wonderful, you may go, I'll see to the tea myself." She smiled at the servant girl, a similar age to herself and wondered anew at the differences between two people, just because they were born into different families, different places.
After their tea Rosannah guided Maestro to his rooms. As they walked along the long corridors she asked him what the last letter he had received from her had been.
"I received the lettair you wrote on ze morning of your wedding day, and then no more. I am glad he 'as been good to you. You deserve so much more zan you 'ave been given my love."
She squeezed his arm, "I do not know about that Papa, but I do know I am incredibly fortunate indeed. It is a love match and I never imagined how wonderful it would be."
"Oh yes, I know zat. Love is indescribable no? My wife, oh she stole my 'eart, my breath, my sanity." He sounded forlorn and her heart tightened in her chest.
It had been an Englishwoman that had brought him here in the first place and they had been extraordinarily happy, but she had died in childbirth along with their only child, a daughter. Rosannah knew it was one of the reasons he had let their relationship develop in such an unsuitable manner. She would have been the same age as his daughter had she lived.
"Papa," she breathed, "I am sorry. Now I am married to Henry I understand more fully how terrible it must have been for you."
Her heart constricted at the thought of losing Gray, even in fiction it seemed too terrible to bear.
He patted her hand, "Zank you mia figlia. It was a long time ago now, though I miss them every day, the knife; it is not so sharp."
"Henry will not be put in the same position." She said hurriedly, desperate to share her sad news.
Maestro looked down on her with raised eyebrows.
"The doctor examined me after Henry discovered how my mother and father disciplined me," Rosannah felt his body tense, he had always tried to tell her it was not normal, but she had not believed him. She just felt maybe his Italian heritage meant it was different for him.
"He said that..." she took a deep breath to try and stop the trembling breath, "... he thinks it unlikely I will be able to bear any children. The damage is too great."
A rogue tear trailed down her cheek and she wiped at it furiously. "Henry has been truly wonderful, I do not deserve it. I know how fortunate I am to have him and I am trying to only think positively, but, b.b.b..but I had ssssso wanted t.t.to have a fffamily of my own."
With that she gave up trying to be brave and burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands and felt her Papa pull her into his arms. He stroked her hair and murmured loving words in his native Italian.
It comforted her and she allowed the warmth seep into her. She was glad she could finally admit her feelings, Henry had been so focussed on making sure she knew that he still loved her, it almost felt like a betrayal to admit how disappointed she was.
He had not made her feel any lesser for it and had not admonished her in any way, but she was sure he felt sadness too.
"I love him so much Papa, and I believe him when he says I am enough for him. It is easy to believe because he is enough for me too. Except, except, I do so l..l..long to bear his children, t...t..to give him the gift that every wife sh..should. I feel like I've let him d.d...down, I'm a bbb.b.bad wife."
"Nonsense." Henry's voice thundered from behind her and she found herself being removed from the Maestro's arms and encompassed in her husband's. "Rosannah, it is reasonable to be sad. I am sad too. But you," he scooped under her chin and lifted her wet eyes to his, the sight softened his voice, "You, my beautiful wife," he kissed her eyelids one at a time, "You have not let me down. You are the perfect wife for me. My life is better because you are in it. Never doubt that."
She clung to his waist coat, fingers gripping it so tightly she feared it might rip. "B..but I..."
"But you nothing. You are nothing but goodness and light in my life. I will not let you lay blame at your own feet for something you did not and would not choose for yourself."
"Oh Henry," she cried, "You are right, I would not choose it. And, and, and... I am sad." Her breathing hiccupped as she confessed her feelings.
He cupped the back of her head and brought it to his chest holding her tighter than before. He stroked her hair and let her sob into his waistcoat.
"I would choose you again, even knowing what I know now," he kissed her head softly, "but I know how you feel my love. I wanted a family of my own, of ours. However," he said hurriedly before she could let the guilt in, "it is NOT your fault that we cannot have children. I want to be able to tell you of my sadness without you taking on the guilt. Just as I want you to tell me of your sadness without you believing that I will take it badly."
She nodded her face against his chest, it was not fair that he had to hold in his feelings for worry of her reaction.
"You know," Maestro interrupted them gently, "It ees possible to fill your lives in uzzer ways."
They both turned to look at him and he smiled lovingly at her.
"It ees possible zat a leetle girl will come into your life and steal your 'eart, and fill the void that caused such pain." His eyes were full of affectionate warmth and she felt it smoothing over her rough, painful edges.
"Or a leetle boy. But My Rosannah, mia figlia, you of all people should know, family is not always ze one you are born with. You tell me, 'oo do you considair your family now? Ze Baron and Baroness? Or us? A man you 'ave known as a teacher and a man you 'ave only known for months?"
Relief flooded through her as she considered the truth of his words. Having a family did not seem so impossible. But how would Henry feel about it? He was a man and bound to feel differently. His own children would be wanted, but would another man's ever be considered as his?
"You have given us a lot to think of Maestro. You are wise as well as talented," Henry's deep voice reverberated his chest behind her.
"I do not mean it is not alright to be sad," Maestro said, "But do not give up 'ope."
"Thank you Papa," she held her hand out and his warm one took it comfortingly. "You are right of course. You and Henry are my family. And Sophia, Amelia and Theodore. And even Wiston." Henry's grip tightened momentarily at the name and she swore she heard a humph.
"My mother and siblings, and my soon to be former best friend," Henry explained grumpily at Maestro's confused expression.
"Never. He will never give up that title," she said cheekily, "Especially now he knows certain things about you." She was rewarded with another humph which made her giggle.
She squeezed the hand he still had about her waist and looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye, she knew he was not as bothered as he was pretending to be. Even though his brows were drawn and he looked quite fearsome, she knew he was hiding a pleased smile. She saw it deep in his eye, where no-one else would dare look for it.
"I love you," she mouthed.
A look of exasperation crossed his face, "I'm trying to maintain a facade of annoyance and you just ..." he blew out a puff of air with a grumble.
She smiled cheekily at him and tried to quirk her brow in the same manner as he did.
"Grrr woman, and I love you," he murmured softly, finally allowing a small smile to play about his lips. A sudden release of breath from the Maestro made her realise he was not as sure of the Duke's true feelings and had possibly been quite worried at his fearsome expression.
"I was taking Papa to his rooms, would you care to join us or have you got to get back to your matters?" she asked, eager to move them from the corridor they had been standing in for quite some time.
"I will come, I am intrigued to see what you have done with the rooms I suggested." His eyebrow arched and removing his hand from about her, he offered her his arm.
They strolled towards the suite and upon opening the door, she was gratified to hear a gasp from Maestro.
"Oh my dear, zis is too much." He stammered, amazed by the opulence around him.
"Believe me when I say Maestro," Henry stated firmly, "You are family, and more valuable to me than most others. You did great things for the woman I love, you give her a sparkle I have not seen and gave her love when nobody else did. So I can assure you, this is not too much. Nothing will ever repay what you did."
It was moments like this that turned her to jelly, his declarations made her tremble with breathlessness. How happy she was to be married to this man, she vowed to never take him for granted.
She became aware that she was almost panting when he looked at her with concern in his gaze, but when he saw the love and longing on her face, his eyes darkened and his look became almost predatory.
She could not tear her eyes away from his and his mouth curved in satisfaction as she swallowed dryly.
Fortunately her Papa had not noticed, so enthralled he was with his room. A sudden clatter made her almost jump out of her skin and broke the rising tension as Henry chuckled at her fright, not appearing to have been affected by it. How he was always so sure and certain she had no idea.
The clatter had been caused by Maestro knocking over a picture he had tried to pick up hastily. It was of the two of them, her friend Hannah had painted him before he left for Italy and then she was added in after. The result was a cosy scene of the two of them sitting at a piano, Maestro was looking towards the painter, but she was looking at him with familial love.
Both were happy and smiling.
It was a very risky possession to have and she had kept it very carefully, making sure it had never been discovered by anyone. She had recently asked Hannah to make another copy and was planning on sending one to Italy for him, but had not managed to do so before his return. So she arranged for the little picture to be placed in here as a surprise.
He turned to her with tears in his eyes, and she quickly explained how it came to be.
"Where on earth did you keep yours?" Henry asked.
"In my personal bible." She looked to her Papa, he looked quite overcome and held it close to his chest. "I am glad you like it Papa."
"It is wondairful." His voice was husky, "I weesh I 'ad 'ad it at 'ome. My Mammia and fratelli would 'ave loved to see the girl zey 'eard so much of."
"I am sorry I did not think of it sooner then."
"I have a solution. I will commission a large scale one to be hung in the house and you could send your little copy over." Henry grinned, "It would please me to have this on display. Your friend has caught you so faithfully, and you look genuinely happy. That is something I enjoy immensely."
Rosannah could not argue with him, he looked so satisfied at the idea. "Very well, thank you Henry."
He merely patted her hand and announced they should see the other rooms, at which point Papa nearly fell over.
"Ozzaire rooms?" he asked incredulously.
"Why yes Papa, Henry has assigned you three in total to have as your very own. Obviously you will be welcome to join us when we are around. Though we are quite social and it is not unknown for us to take supper in our room when at home." Rosannah explained.
Once she had taken him to his other rooms Henry surprised them both with the news that Maestro would have his own manservant. "There is a particular boy I have in mind. He is a pleasant chap, and a hard worker and deserves the recognition of his service. I have discussed it with Jameson and he is in agreement. The boy's name is Lucas and he will be presenting himself to you shortly to show you the way to luncheon."
Rosannah was aware that she was gaping at him, yet again she was amazed at how a man so generous and thoughtful as this even existed, nevertheless that he would be her husband.
He grinned at her and tipped her chin up, closing her mouth with the crook of his forefinger but continuing to raise it so he could bestow a small kiss upon her lips.
He looked up, "Maestro, we will leave you to rest and settle yourself. Luncheon will be served in the garden in...?" he looked to Rosannah.
"An hour," she murmured.
"...One hour. Lucas will arrive just a few minutes beforehand to make proper introductions before he brings you. I trust this will give you enough time?"
"Call me Gio, your Grace, for I am certain you 'ave earned ze right to my real name, no? La mia famiglia do not call me Maestro, and I would like you to do ze same." Her Papa looked shaken by the situation he found himself in, and she could well understand it.
"Gio," Henry held out his hand. "I thank you for the honour and return the favour, you must call me Henry."
The men both nodded and then Henry started leading her from the room. "See you soon Papa," she called with a smile.
"Mmm," he mumbled as he still took in the room about him.
As soon as the door was shut behind him she and Henry mutually came together and passionately kissed, gripping the other to them as tightly as they could. Their lips met again and again as Henry's tongue slipped out and pushed into her willing mouth. Tingles exploded through her and she moaned softly at his exploration.
His large hand held the back of her head firmly and his fingers gripped her hair, almost painfully. She pulled on his shirt to ensure he could not escape the kiss either.
She was so overwhelmed by this man, her life changed so drastically for the better because of him. She poured all her emotion into the kiss; the thankfulness, the love, the desire, the amazement.
He groaned as he pulled his lips away from hers, "Rosie, what do you do to me? I cannot believe I have so little control that I find it impossible to resist you when you look at me with such love and adoration."
She giggled softly, "I like that you feel that way too," she whispered. "Besides, you deserve that love and adoration for everything you do for me and now Papa. I never knew husbands could be like this."
"Do not let anyone know, my reputation will be in ruins," he mocked with a fake glare.
"Never my love, your secret is safe in my hands."
He took her right hand and caressed it in his own, his strong fingers gently stroking against her palm, send fizzles up her arm. "Such a small, beautiful hand to hold such great secrets," he murmured bringing it to his lips and planting a kiss on her palm, then on her wrist as he watched her shiver in delight.
"We..w..we should head downs..s.stairs," she stuttered. He grinned at her, enjoying the reason for her difficulties.
He kissed her wrist again, allowing his tongue a miniscule caress that sent her heart racing. "What was that my dear?" he teased but his eyes mesmerised her and she found herself answering a question to which he already knew the answer.
He slowly kissed up the inside of her arm and Rosannah thought she might faint with delight. The tingles that were racing about her body were making her knees tremble and breathing difficult.
"Grayson," she groaned, "Oh, please."
She did not know what she was asking him, all she knew was that she wanted him to both stop and carry on.
Suddenly, just as his tongue slid across her skin again, the door behind them opened. Henry bolted upright, his expression of shock making her giggle.
"Good, you are still ere." Maestro said, then looked confused, "Why are you still 'ere?"
"We got delayed discussing our next move," Henry said smoothly, eyes laughing at her awkwardness. Her cheeks were flaming at the thought of confessing what had transpired in the last few minutes. "What can we help you with Gio?"
Rosannah turned in her husband's arms and faced her Papa. He crinkled his eyes at her before looking up at her husband. "I wanted to see if zaire was a moment we could 'ave a talk? I nevair got the chance to speak wiz you before ze marriage took place, and I am her papa, I weesh to know ze man my Rozzie is marriaged to."
"Of course," Henry bowed slightly. "I would like to get to know you also. Shall we meet before dinner this evening? Come to the library, Lucas will direct you."
As they said their goodbyes, Rosannah was filled with a sense of belonging that was unique to having her two favourite people in the world under one roof. She could never remember feeling this way in her whole life and it was almost too much to bear.
"Thank you Henry," she murmured as they strolled through the halls, resting her head on his arm.
"My pleasure Rosie. As always."