Love Rescues Rosanna Read online

  Rosanna took a deep breath.

  “I am afraid,” she ventured slowly, “that you have come too soon. I am not entertaining at Donnington Hall at the moment.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “the deaths of my great-uncle and my dear mother make that impossible.”

  Susan de Vere, who was taller than her older sister and as thin as a rake, raised her plucked eyebrows at Miranda before saying,

  “Of course we understand. It is always difficult to entertain when you have had no prior experience.”

  Sir Walter glared at her for her sniping remark and said,

  “I think, my dearest Rosanna, that you are worrying unnecessarily. We have come because we anticipated that you would be feeling lonely.”

  He smiled as he resumed,

  “We want to help you in every way possible in this enchanting house which you know as well as I do is too large for one small person such as yourself to manage.”

  For a moment there was silence. Then Rosanna stated,

  “As I only arrived yesterday, I can hardly plan anything amusing and entertaining.”

  “All I desire and what I am sure my friends want, is your company,” Sir Walter replied. Patting her hand, he rose to his feet. “I am going to talk with your butler and ask him what he can do for us.”

  Before Rosanna could speak, he was walking towards the door. He had reached it before she managed to cry out,

  “Stop! Please stop!”

  Sir Walter looked round and called cheerfully,

  “I cannot allow you to be worried. Leave everything to me.”

  When he had gone, everyone began to talk at once.

  “We thought you were expecting us,” Miranda said sitting down in the chair Sir Walter had vacated and taking Rosanna’s hand in hers. “Lord, it never crossed my mind that you did not know we were coming.”

  “I only arrived here yesterday,” Rosanna repeated. “The guest beds have not been used for such a long time, indeed, they may even be damp.”

  She could think of nothing else to make staying at Donnington Hall sound unpleasant.

  The girl gave a cry.

  “We have annoyed you. I know we have! It was stupid of us to listen to Sir Walter, but you know when he wants something, he always gets it. There is no point in arguing with him. Indeed, I would be quite scared to do so.”

  Rosanna felt her heart sink. She knew however much she might be upset or feel it was impossible for her to entertain visitors until she and the staff were prepared for them, Sir Walter would get his own way.

  She knew by the expression on his fleshy face when he returned that she was right.

  “It is all arranged,” he said, “we may have a dinner which will not be as good as we are accustomed to, but at least there will be something to eat and a bed in which to sleep. I know that our dear hostess would have felt embarrassed if we had felt obliged to return to London.”

  No one spoke so he carried on,

  “My feelings were hurt when she left.” He smiled at her before he added, “in fact, I thought of her all alone perhaps longing for us but unable to say so!”

  The way he spoke by softening his voice and the intense stare of his gooseberry green eyes made Rosanna not only angry, but frightened.

  ‘He is planning to have me,’ she thought. ‘He is determined by hook or by crook to make me his wife. He is so keen to own this house and when he sees the horses and the Racecourse he will be even more determined.’

  She managed to slip away to speak to Bates.

  “I am desperately sorry to worry you and Mrs. Bates so much,” she said. “Especially as I have only just arrived myself.”

  “That is quite all right, my Lady,” he replied. “I knew you were not expecting them.”

  Rosanna said,

  “I would never invite guests before giving you and the staff ample warning.”

  “Well, I am sure we can manage.”

  Rosanna smiled at him.

  “Thank you very much, Bates, for being so kind and understanding.”

  She walked back towards the drawing room and Bates watched her go, a frown on his face. She was such a small girl and so alone in the world.

  As she reached the door, he saw Sir Walter appear, like a hawk watching his prey. He towered over Lady Rosanna, holding out his arm and insisting he walked with her back into the room.

  To Bates he looked like a gaoler escorting his prisoner to an execution.

  He returned to the kitchen a grim expression on his face. He had met men such as Sir Walter before. He knew exactly what he was after and wondered if little Lady Rosanna would be able to hold out against him.

  The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Rosanna had slept badly and was wide awake by six o’clock. She washed swiftly before the maid could appear and dressed in her favourite dark blue riding habit.

  She slipped downstairs, through the quiet house. Only a couple of housemaids saw her, but she put a finger to her lips to silence their automatic greetings.

  Round at the stables, she found much more activity. The stable lads and grooms were already hard at work, cleaning out the stalls and grooming the horses.

  Rosanna asked for Taffy, the chestnut mare, to be saddled.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, my Lady, but shall I accompany you?” Tom, the youngest groom, asked as he helped her mount and handed her the reins.

  “No, thank you, Tom. I am sure you have far more pressing duties than to ride with me. I shall not go far and Taffy is quite safe. Oh, and Tom – ” she gazed down at the round, honest face – “if Sir Walter wants to ride out – then please tell him there is no suitable horse at present.”

  Tom nodded thoughtfully, watching her as she trotted out of the stable yard.

  Rosanna pushed Taffy into a canter as she crossed the first fields. She was free! Oh, how marvellous to be away from the atmosphere inside Donnington Hall.

  She had been sure that Sir Walter would suddenly appear and want to ride with her.

  ‘This is quite dreadful, feeling a prisoner in my own home,’ she said to herself as she turned Taffy’s head towards the open countryside. ‘I wish I could ride and ride until that awful man vanishes back to London.’

  She galloped up a steep slope and reined in on the crest of the hill, where she enjoyed a fine view back down to Donnington Hall.

  Her blonde hair had escaped from its tight bonds and flowed down over her shoulders. She tossed it back, breathing in the glorious fresh air.

  On the other side of the hill, the land stretched ahead for miles and far in the misty distance she could see the faint outline of a Castle’s battlements with a flag flying high in the early morning sunlight. It looked like something out of a fairy tale and Rosanna sighed.

  That was where the poor Earl of Melton lived, she realised. How she envied him. Even though he was unwell, no one was forcing him to marry and he had good kind friends to take care of him.

  *

  Inside the Castle Rosanna could see from the top of the hill, William, the Earl of Melton, tossed restlessly in his bed under its deep blue silk canopy.

  His dark hair was tangled over a face that was pale and drawn with pain.

  George and Verity Blackwood stood at the side of his bed, gazing down in dismay.

  “Angel, must find my angel,” the Earl muttered in his delirium.

  Lady Verity’s thin lips pursed in disgust.

  “Why does he keep asking for an angel? Is he dying? Goodness, this is becoming intolerable, George.”

  She stared around the grand bedroom. The windows were tightly closed and the air was oppressive and unsavoury.

  Viscount Blackwood looked uncomfortable and ashamed. He knew he should be doing more for his old friend, but had no idea what.

  “I thought the waters at Bath would help, but he seems worse since our return,” he said miserably.

  “Perhaps our presence is hindering his recovery,” Verity said slowly as a course of action suggested itself to her. “
The strong feelings he has for me may make him worry about my seeing him in this fashion. No lady should be faced with such an unsavoury picture of her future husband.”

  George rubbed a fat hand over his face. Lord, he was hot and life at the Castle was certainly not comfortable. The staff were only concerned with their sick master and even the meals had become hurried and dull.

  To tell the truth he was bored and the thought of his rumbustious life back in London was very tempting.

  “Do you think we should leave, sister?” he questioned, trying not to sound hopeful.

  Verity pulled her cream lace shawl tighter around her deep mauve morning dress, as if to shut out the clammy air in the bedroom.

  “Yes, George, I do. I think we should return to London immediately, leaving word to be sent for as soon as William has recovered.”

  The Viscount’s better nature stirred for a second or two.

  “Seems harsh to leave a friend alone like this. What will people say?”

  Verity shrugged and walked out of the room without a backwards glance at the sick Earl.

  “Anyone who is anyone will realise we are doing it with the very best of intentions. I am sure William will thank us when he regains his health. Come, George. I will inform the servants that they should pack our things immediately.”

  *

  Rosanna trotted Taffy along the path back towards Donnington Hall. She was reluctant to return, but recognised that she must. No matter how she felt about Sir Walter and the others, they were her guests and they had to be treated with a show of manners.

  As the path crossed the road leading up to the Racecourse, she reined to a halt as a string of beautiful horses walked past.

  The groom was a man of around thirty with brown hair and a tanned, good-natured face. He was riding the lead horse and touched his hat to her. “My Lady.”

  “Good morning. What marvellous horses. Who do they belong to?”

  “Lord Melton, my Lady. I am his head groom, John Barker. My Master has permission to use the Racecourse to train his horses from Sir Leonard himself. I am taking them up there now for a training gallop.”

  Rosanna smiled.

  “I am Lady Rosanna Donnington. I own the Racecourse now, but of course you can continue to use it. How is your master? I believe he has been unwell.”

  John Barker frowned as the line of horses and their young grooms passed them by.

  “He is still very sick, my Lady. He was thrown by his stallion and has not recovered from his injuries. We’re all that worried about him.”

  Rosanna looked at him curiously. The groom sounded genuinely upset.

  ‘The Earl must treat his staff very well,’ she thought, ‘for them to show such concern.’

  “No doubt his doctors will do their very best to make his recovery a speedy one,” she said.

  The groom frowned.

  “Beggin’ your pardon if I’m speaking out of turn, my Lady, but the doctor seems to leave it all to the nurses that he sends. And some of them seem to be no better than they should be.”

  “But the Earl’s friends are in attendance, are they not?”

  John Barker shook his head.

  “Their carriage was setting out for London as I was leaving the stable yard this morning, my Lady. They’ve left my master on his own.”

  Rosanna frowned, but there was no more she could say on the subject.

  She bade the groom good day and rode back to Donnington Hall, wondering how anyone who called themselves friends could be so unkind as to leave a sick man alone.

  Then all thoughts of Lord Melton were banished from her head as she saw Sir Walter standing, waiting for her on the stone steps leading up to the front door.

  She bit her lip. There was no way she could ride past him. She had to stop, but how dare he stand there, so arrogant, hands on hips, as if he were the owner and master of the house.

  “Rosanna, my dearest, there you are!”

  Sir Walter walked down the steps and held out his arms to catch her as she dismounted.

  For a horrid second she could feel his hot breath on her cheek and his hands held her far too close to his chest.

  He was not a tall man and his lips, which were red and wet, were only inches away from hers.

  Rosanna controlled the shudder that ran through her body and pushed herself away from Sir Walter’s grasp.

  “I must go and change,” she said. “I have had no breakfast yet. Have you eaten, Sir Walter?”

  He frowned.

  “Well, your butler produced some sort of repast, but not of the amount and quality that Donnington Hall should offer their guests. When I am – ”

  He stopped but Rosanna could guess only too well what his next words would have been. ‘When I am your husband and master of the house!’ She harboured no doubts about that.

  “And will you be leaving today?” she asked as she handed Taffy’s reins to a groom.

  Sir Walter smiled.

  “Oh, no, my dear. Whatever put that quaint idea into your pretty little head. I intend to make myself quite indispensable here. Soon you will be wondering how you ever managed without me.”

  Rosanna did not reply. She ran up the steps, into the house, seeking the sanctuary of her own room.

  She no longer felt hungry and she certainly could not face the thought of meeting the others in the breakfast room.

  Swiftly she changed out of her riding habit into a pale green morning gown. The maid, Jenny, was useful but Rosanna wished with all her heart that Edie, her maid in London, was with her.

  The little Cockney girl had a way of cheering her up that Rosanna found refreshing in a world of false behaviour and servile attendants.

  When she walked downstairs, she met Bates in the hall.

  “You have a visitor, my Lady,” he announced.

  “At this hour?”

  “It is Mr. Howard who is on the Board of the local hospital,” he replied.

  “What can he want of me?”

  Bates hesitated before saying,

  “Well, Sir Leonard always helped the hospital because he said that people who were ill could not help themselves. I think that Mr. Howard is here to ask you to assist him in some fashion.”

  “Where have you put him?”

  “In the study, my Lady.”

  Rosanna sighed, squared her shoulders and walked briskly down the corridor to the study.

  It was no good shirking her responsibilities. If she could enjoy all the advantages of being an heiress, she had to accept that she had a role to play in local society as well.

  When she entered the room, an elderly man with white hair turned from the window and approached her.

  “Forgive me, Lady Rosanna, for calling on you so early in the morning,” he began, “but I was afraid you might be returning to London and I was determined to see you before you left.”

  Rosanna shook his hand.

  “I have come here to stay,” she said. “Now, how can I help you, Mr. Howard?”

  “I represent the local hospital. Your late great-uncle was always most generous in his donations for its upkeep. At present we do not have enough nursing staff for our needs. We are situated so deep in the countryside here that girls do not want to come to work for us.”

  He sank into a chair and Rosanna sat opposite him, interested to listen to what he was saying.

  “It is so hard to find experienced people. Why, even the Earl of Melton, who is well able to pay, is experiencing great difficulty in finding a nurse who will stay for more than a week.”

  “But if you paid better wages than in the towns, would not more girls come to the hospital?”

  Mr. Howard nodded enthusiastically.

  “That is exactly the situation. And so I have come to you for a donation. I am quite desperate. Sir Leonard gave us, out of the kindness of his heart, five hundred pounds last year but without more, we may have to close the hospital. We have good doctors, but without the nurses, a hospital fails.”

 
; Rosanna reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm. She could see that this elderly gentleman was, indeed, very distressed and worried about his patients.

  “I am not certain how much I have in my bank account at present,” she said. “But I can certainly let you have two hundred pounds. When I know exactly how my income is managed, I will send you more.”

  Mr. Howard drew in a deep breath. Rosanna could see from the expression on his face just how much this meant to him.

  “Why, thank you, Lady Rosanna,” he said. “I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am. It is horrifying for me to see patients being neglected or left uncomfortable because there is no one to attend to them.”

  Rosanna rose and Mr. Howard followed.

  “I will send the necessary authority over to you at the hospital today,” she said and rang the bell for Bates to show him out.

  When he had departed, she sat at her uncle’s wide desk, admiring the inlaid patterns on the top, fingering the beautiful blue Delft ink wells and tortoiseshell pens, and wrote out the necessary paperwork.

  When she rang for Bates once more, she could tell by his expression that she had done the right thing.

  She handed him the envelope and he nodded his appreciation.

  “I will have your letter sent over to Mr. Howard straight away, my Lady,” he said warmly. “And if I may make so bold as to say, Sir Leonard would have been delighted that you are continuing his charity work.”

  Rosanna sighed.

  “I have a feeling that this is only the first of many requests,” she said. “I must form a clearer idea of my income before too many more applicants arrive on our doorstep.”

  She sat for a while on the window seat, gazing down at the manicured lawns and flower beds. A peacock was wandering across the grass, its long tail a gleaming cascade of blue and green.

  How beautiful this house was and how lucky she was to own it.

  She sighed, wondering how her father could have borne to have sold the house and estate to his uncle all those years ago. How marvellous it would have been to have grown up here. She could almost picture herself as a child, playing on that vast lawn, riding a fat little pony around the paddock.

  Rosanna hoped and prayed that her dear parents and brother were watching from somewhere in Heaven, pleased that at last she was back where she belonged.