Love Rescues Rosanna Page 3

  She had arrived at Donnington Hall!

  A fine avenue of giant oak trees curved through green meadows and then, as the carriage rumbled over a little bridge across a sparkling stream, the oak trees ended and she saw ahead of her the house she now owned.

  For a moment Rosanna could only gasp because it was so much bigger and so much more impressive than she had ever imagined.

  Built of honey-coloured stone, it stood at the top of a slope leading down to a lake covered with beautiful yellow and apricot water lilies.

  Rosanna could see where the new wing had been added to the old building, but it had been built with great sensitivity.

  The many windows glinted in the sunshine and there seemed to be flowers everywhere, red roses and white lilies and cascades of tiny blue blossoms.

  “It is quite lovely,” she said out loud as her carriage drew up at the impressive entrance.

  Even as the horses came to a standstill, the front door opened and she saw an elderly butler was waiting for her to descend.

  A groom came running round from the rear of the house and held the horses as Henry jumped down and helped her out.

  “Good morning. I am Lady Rosanna Donnington – ”

  “Yes, my Lady,” the butler replied warmly. “I am Bates, your butler. I am pleased to welcome you to Donnington Hall. We have been hoping you would be visiting us ever since we lost Sir Leonard. We have been very lonely without him.”

  It was not something Rosanna had expected a servant to say.

  Before she could think of a reply, Bates said,

  “Shall I instruct your coachman to drive into the stables?”

  “Please do,” Rosanna replied, finding her voice with some difficulty.

  It was all so strange and different from what she had expected.

  Bates returned to her side and ushered her into the house. A very impressive entrance hall lay ahead of her, the black and white marble floor gleaming. A grand curving staircase rose up to the first floor gallery.

  “If you will come this way, my Lady,” Bates said, “I will take you to the drawing room, which I am sure you would like to see first.”

  “I want to see the whole house,” Rosanna told him. “I haven’t been here for many years, although I believe I was born here.”

  “That is true,” he agreed. “Begging your pardon, my Lady, but Mrs. Bates and I have often thought it was sad that Sir Leonard had no wish for his family to see what a beautiful home he had created and how magnificent it is in every possible way.”

  Rosanna drew in her breath. She was already aware that the furniture in the hall was old and valuable and most impressive. The pictures were, she was quite certain, painted by masters of their craft.

  When they stopped halfway down the passage, the butler opened the door and she had her first glimpse of what she was to learn later was reported to be the most beautiful room in the house.

  It was certainly imposing and almost dazzling in the sunshine streaming in through the long windows.

  Rosanna noted that the furniture was exquisite and so were the delicate watercolours hanging on the walls.

  The room itself was beautifully proportioned, painted in the very palest green with gold edges to the plaster roses that adorned the ceiling.

  “This is the drawing room, my Lady,” Bates announced. “Sir Leonard finished collecting these pictures just before he died.”

  “It is so lovely,” Rosanna enthused.

  Bates smiled.

  “I knew you would be pleased,” he said.

  Rosanna drew in her breath before she asked,

  “I cannot understand, when he had such a beautiful home, why my great-uncle never wanted visitors.”

  There was silence before the butler answered,

  “When Sir Leonard’s wife, Lady Margaret was alive, they enjoyed a very social life. But tragically, as you know, she died in childbirth and after that, well, Sir Leonard withdrew from Society completely. He spent all his time adding to his collections of fine porcelain and paintings.

  “He used to say to me, ‘Bates, I have lost the most beautiful woman in the whole world, but I can try and collect other beautiful objects to adorn the rooms of her house in her memory’.”

  Rosanna wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek.

  ‘Poor Great-Uncle Leonard,’ she thought. ‘If only Mama and I had realised how unhappy he was, we would have visited more often, I am sure.’

  “My wife and I having been with Sir Leonard for so long, we were used to his ways,” Bates told her. “But he was content here by himself with his books. He loved his garden and, probably most of all, his racehorses.”

  For a moment no one spoke and then Bates continued,

  “I am sure, my Lady, you would like to see the rest of the house. Or perhaps you would rather wait until after I have served luncheon?”

  “No, I would very much like to see it all now,” Rosanna replied enthusiastically.

  “Then if you will please come this way,” Bates invited, “and I will show you your new home.”

  By the time Rosanna had explored the house from the cellars to the attics, she realised that she would love Donnington Hall as much as her great-uncle had loved it.

  It was an enchanting place and although it was big, it still gave her the impression of being a home, not just a house. Each room was beautifully decorated and full of exciting and interesting objects.

  Translucent porcelain from China, magnificent statues from India and weird and wonderful carvings from far away islands in the South Pacific.

  Finally, when she had inspected the servants’ quarters on the top floor, Bates escorted her to where a ladder led through a trap door onto the very roof of the house.

  “Would you wish to climb outside, my Lady? It is very steep.”

  Rosanna hesitated but only for a moment. She wanted to see and explore every inch of her new home and holding up her amber travelling skirt with one hand, she nimbly ran up the ladder onto the roof where a flag pole stood.

  She gasped as she gazed out on the magnificent view of the land which now belonged to her. It was only from this height that she could comprehend the magnificence of her inheritance.

  Downstairs, her luggage had been taken from the carriage up to what Bates described as the Blue bedroom.

  “Sir Leonard used to sleep in the Master bedroom,” he told her, “but this room was the one that Lady Margaret used as her private sitting room.”

  He gestured to a beautiful painting that had caught Rosanna’s eye as soon as she entered the room.

  “This is a study of Lady Margaret on her twenty-first birthday. Sir Leonard could not bear to hang it in his room, but he would not have it covered up and put away.”

  Rosanna stared at the lovely face. Lady Margaret was smiling out of the canvas, as if someone she loved very much was standing watching her.

  “It is so sad that he never remarried,” she said softly.

  “That’s what my wife thought would happen sooner or later,” Bates replied. “But the years passed by and he stayed true to Lady Margaret’s memory.”

  And when Rosanna finally retired to bed that evening, exhausted after her long journey, her dreams were a strange mixture of the great-aunt she had never met and the poor sick Earl she had met at the inn earlier that day.

  *

  The following morning dawned bright and fine. Rosanna rose refreshed, bathed and discovered that, Jenny, the little maid who was caring for her until Edie arrived, had laid out her riding clothes.

  “Mr. Bates was sure you would want to ride one of the horses from the stables,” she said.

  Rosanna stared at her reflection in the long mirror. The dark blue riding habit suited her admirably.

  “He is quite correct. I am keen to explore, especially the Racecourse.”

  “Oh, it be very fine, my Lady. I am not keen on those great horses myself. Too many teeth and nasty big feet! But Sir Leonard showed all us staff when it was finish
ed.”

  Rosanna ran down the wide curving staircase. She felt so happy this morning. The sun was shining, she loved Donnington Hall and she was free from her unwanted admirers, especially Sir Walter Fenwick!

  Bates watched from a window as the lovely young lady mounted on a pretty little chestnut mare, cantered past with Tom, one of the grooms.

  His wife appeared at his shoulder.

  “She is such a lovely child.” She dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “Sir Leonard would have been very proud.”

  Bates nodded his agreement.

  “That he would. But she is very young and so alone in the world. Donnington Hall is a big responsibility to place on those slender shoulders.”

  He turned away with a sigh and went back to his duties.

  The Racecourse was grander and much larger than Rosanna had expected. She reined in Taffy, the beautiful chestnut mare she had chosen to ride, and stared in surprise and appreciation at the long circular sweep of grass between the white fences.

  “I wonder, my Lady, if they told you that Sir Leonard’s horses have won a number of races,” Tom said.

  “He and his great friend, the late Lord Melton, would send entries to all the big meetings and point-to-points. This is where they trained the horses to run true and jump. Although they were friends, they were great competitors as well.”

  Rosanna had already inspected the stables and admired the magnificent steeds.

  “I believe the present Earl was injured in a riding accident,” she ventured, hoping this was not bordering on gossip with a servant.

  “Indeed, my Lady. He owns a fiery stallion, name of Demon. No one can ride it but his Lordship, but it threw him a couple of months ago now and damaged his leg badly, so I’m told.”

  Rosanna turned for home. There was so much to think about, but she decided that when the Earl had recovered his health and strength, she would extend her great-uncle’s invitation for the Melton horses to train again at Donnington Hall.

  She did not want people to think she was looking for an unfair advantage if she ran her horses against his in future races.

  The following day Rosanna spent on horseback exploring every inch of her new estate, meeting the lodge-keeper and his wife, and visiting the tenants of the cluster of little farm cottages.

  Everywhere she went she was greeted with friendly smiles. Little children scampered alongside her horse, waving shyly and several of the farmers’ wives came out of their cottages to bob their curtsies and offer her cold lemonade or cider.

  It was obvious that people had been awaiting her arrival with anxious concern, worried as to how their lives would change now she was in charge.

  She could see how the estate had been built up and improved year by year and was only too anxious to assure everyone that she would try and continue in the same way as her great-uncle.

  ‘It is a vast responsibility,’ Rosanna thought as she walked Taffy slowly up the driveway. ‘But one I have to accept. I will do the very best I can. I trust it will be enough. So many people depend on me now.’

  As she neared the house, she saw two carriages moving away from the front door.

  ‘Visitors!’ she exclaimed. ‘Perhaps they are neighbours leaving calling cards, but I have no wish to be bothered with the social life here until I am more at home than I am at the moment.’

  She rode round to the stable block and Tom helped her to dismount before leading Taffy away to her stall.

  To Rosanna’s dismay, the carriages were there in the courtyard.

  Obviously they were not local dignitaries coming to pay their respects to the new owner of Donnington Hall.

  But perhaps they were business acquaintances of her uncle, come to consult her about some detail of the estate.

  Whoever they were, she could not greet them covered in dust and dirt from her day’s excursion.

  Rosanna slipped indoors via the little room where the flowers for the house were arranged. Crossing the hall to the stairs, she could hear from the laughter and voices in the drawing room that there must be quite a number of visitors.

  There was no sign of Bates or the rest of the staff and she imagined that he was serving tea. She knew she could rely on him to do all that was necessary in her absence.

  With Jenny’s help, she changed swiftly into a pale pink dress, brushed her hair until it shone like polished gold silk and caught it up at the back with a pretty tortoisehell comb.

  “Do you know who the visitors are, Jenny?” she asked as she put on her pink silk shoes.

  “I did hear them say to Mr. Bates that they were friends of yours from London, my Lady. They’ve brought ever so much luggage.”

  Rosanna frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

  Who in the world could it be?

  Even as she entered the drawing room, she still had no idea of who awaited her.

  She gasped, stunned, for there, standing in front of the fireplace, legs astride, one of the best Sevres teacups lost in his beefy hand, was Sir Walter Fenwick, the man she hated most in all the world. The man she had run away from in such fear.

  He had found her!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rosanna stared at Sir Walter, overcome by the feelings that flowed through her.

  This was her worst nightmare come true.

  All her plans to escape to the country had been in vain. It had never crossed her mind that this dreadful man would follow her to Donnington Hall.

  Just for a moment as she stood in the doorway, Sir Walter did not realise she was there. He was laughing at something someone had said.

  It was the man who was speaking who exclaimed,

  “Ah, here is our delightful young hostess!”

  Sir Walter turned and before Rosanna could move, he had taken both her hands in his and was kissing them.

  “We could not stay in London without you, my dear,” he said. “The place seemed empty and very boring so we have come to tell you how much we miss you. In fact I do unbearably. Tell me you are pleased to see me.”

  As he finished speaking, he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them again.

  With the greatest difficulty Rosanna pulled away from him.

  Walking into the room she saw there were two other girls there, Miranda and Susan de Vere, neither of whom were great friends of hers.

  The two younger men, James Heath and Patrick McNab, she had danced with at various functions. They had been particularly flattering when they had realised how rich she had become.

  “I hope you are glad to see us, Lady Rosanna,” Patrick said, dusting the remains of a slice of cake from his fancy waistcoat.

  “It is certainly a surprise,” Rosanna replied dryly.

  “We thought when we learnt you had left London that this was where you would be,” Sir Walter said, beaming, “and that you might be lonely without us.”

  There was laughter at this.

  Miranda de Vere, a chubby, rather plain girl, came forward and held out her hand. It had been at her birthday dance two nights ago that Sir Walter had asked Rosanna to marry him.

  Now she said,

  “Goodness, Rosanna, I am so tired after such a journey. I had no idea your new home was so far away from London. But I suppose if my bedroom here is comfortable, I will not complain.”

  Rosanna felt a chill run down her back.

  Then she asked,

  “Are you thinking of staying?”

  “Of course,” Sir Walter answered. “I brought Miranda and Susan as chaperones and also two friends who told me the other night how much they admire you.”

  He paused for a moment before continuing,

  “I am delighted to see you, Lady Rosanna, and to discover that your home is even finer and more significant than the newspapers reported.”

  “That is true,” James Heath agreed. “I had no idea there was such a magnificent collection of pictures. It makes me very curious to see the rest of Donnington Hall and all the marvels it contains.”

  Rosann
a was about to reply when the door opened and Bates asked,

  “Will you be requiring tea, my Lady?”

  As she walked towards him he said in a voice only she could hear,

  “I am afraid as these visitors have arrived so unexpectedly, Mrs. Bates is worried about the quantity and quality of the provisions we have in store, my Lady.”

  Rosanna frowned.

  “I will see Mrs Bates later. At the moment I am hoping they will all leave very soon.”

  She turned back to her guests, and then her hand was suddenly taken by Sir Walter, who was standing far too close to her.

  He whispered,

  “How could you have been so cruel as to run away without telling me, little Rosanna? I can hardly believe you would do such a thing. But I have found you and now nothing matters but that we are together again.”

  Rosanna did not speak. When she felt the pressure of his hot damp hand over hers she wanted to scream.

  But this was not the time nor place to have an argument. She pulled her hand free and took the cup Bates was offering her.

  The five visitors chatted endlessly about the value of the pictures, the statuary and the beautiful Sevres tea service.

  They fingered the beautiful drapes at the windows, ran their hands over the upholstery on the chairs and admired everything in sight.

  Everything they said was in very bad taste. It made them sound avaricious, like a flock of crows picking at a dead rabbit by the side of the road.

  Eventually Sir Walter said,

  “You are very quiet, my dear. Anyone would think you are not pleased to see us!”

  Rosanna did not answer for a moment. Then she replied in a low voice,

  “Sir, I had not expected guests so soon. It is impossible, with no notice, to make you as comfortable as I should want you to be.”

  “All I wanted,” he breathed, “was to be alone with you. But I thought it incorrect for me to arrive without a chaperone. That is why I invited my friends to accompany me.”

  Rosanna did not answer.

  James Heath said,

  “This is the most amazing house. I am looking forward to exploring it while we are staying with you, Lady Rosanna.”