Notoriety

Chapter Seventeen

Rosalind made her way over to Arthur's home (for it was now, in her mind, more his than it ever could be Maude's), and waited to be introduced by the smart butler who showed no sign of knowing her as she entered. It was only when she was led into the parlour that he commented that it was nice to see her again, and no doubt Mr. Arthur would think so as well. She felt herself blushing -- were her emotions so clear?

"Rosalind! How lovely to see you again! We were all quite despairing." Maude got up and ran over to her friend to embrace her, Rosalind returned the gesture with surprise. "I must call Arthur now. Arthur! Arthur!" She shouted out the door. "Rosalind is here. And I am sure it is not just to see me." Maude grabbed Rosalind's hands and led her over to the sofa. "Oh I will be so happy to have you as a sister."

"Maude-"

"Hush! Let us talk no more of it, for here is my brother and no doubt he wants to greet you." She giggled, "Should I leave the both of you alone?" Fortunately there was no time to respond to that question as Arthur bounded into the room seconds later with a wide smile on his face.

"Miss Ellis! How I have...I mean, how we have missed you!" She gave him her hand so that he could kiss it, and coloured once again when his lips lingered there longer than was necessary.

"Thank you for your concern."

"Surely you must know that I would never be able to rest until I knew that you were perfectly well." The earnest look on his face was most flattering and Rosalind found herself reduced to a state of female nervousness which Eve and Maude would undoubtedly be proud of.

"I shall leave you alone now." Maude said, as she watched her brother fawn over Rosalind. It really would be delightful to have her dear friend as her dear sister -- and Arthur's feelings were something which she encouraged greatly, for she had endured many long years with no female company (with the exception of her mother, but she did not count).

"Ah! Miss Ellis. I hope you are well." George said as he entered the room, thwarting his sister's plans to leave the other two alone.

"Yes, I thank you Mr. Harding."

"Call me George. It appears that, if you consent, you will be my sister." There was still some doubt in his eyes regarding her emotions, and she realised, for the first time, that he was struggling with his allegiance. Should he stand tall with his brother or his close friend, with whom he undoubtedly had much more in common? She wondered if he hated her for that.

"George! Do not speak so!" It was Arthur's turn to redden.

"Oh, brother, it is the worst kept secret in centuries, I am sure. I know full well that you have been hankering after Miss Ellis for the past few months. And I am nigh on sure that she comprehends your behaviour."

"Oh ... you are infuriating!"

"Will we leave Rosalind and Arthur alone, brother? I am quite sure that neither wants us around."

"Perhaps we should ask them, Maude. I hope, Miss Ellis, that our leaving will not affect your sensibilities."

"Oh no, sir. Please, you are free to go whenever you desire." She attempted to tell him of her choice and, with no means of getting this message relayed to him with clarity, she wished that he understood from her looks and hints.

"Very well." George and Maude exited, with Maude often checking behind her with a teasing smile on her face. It did certainly seem as though everything was going along perfectly well for her.

"I am glad to see that you are quite recovered," Arthur began hesitantly. "Your father told me that you had received some very bad news from London."

"Well ... yes. I did. It was very ... bad." She was not good at lying.

"Miss Ellis, Rosalind, I must declare myself." He looked at her earnestly and clumsily picked up her hands, before dropping them again suddenly and fleeing to the window. "You have to know my feelings. I am sure you do."

"Your feelings, sir?"

"For you, I mean. Lord, I am making such a hash of this. I knew it would be so, for my tutors are always instructing me to be more confident in speaking but...I am incapable of doing so, it appears."

"You are doing fine."

"Truly?"

"Of course." She offered him a kind smile, which seemed to bolster his self-esteem. Once again he moved towards her, but this time he took a seat beside her and hedged cautiously nearer to her.

"I love you. So very, very much. Those few days when I didn't see you, they were like how I imagine the fiery circles of hell to be. I know I should probably write you a letter of intent, or tell your father or something fussy like that, but I can't. I only wish to know if there's any possibility ... any at all -- it does not matter how small and insignificant it may seem now -- that you care for me in the same way." There was a vulnerability on his face which she had never seen before, in him or in any other man, and it endeared him even more to her -- for it showed her that he needed her, and that with him she would always be cherished.

"There is..."

"Is there?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Good."

"A big possibility."

"Big? How big?"

"I am sure that I find myself in love with you." Her eyes flew to his face. He was shocked. But why wasn't he jubilant? For surely that was the standard practice when someone you professed to love, said that they loved you as well. "I hope you are not offended." She said hastily, little noting how nonsensical that notion was.

"Offended? No, no. Quite the contrary, I assure you. Quite definitely the contrary."

"Oh."

"Will you ... marry me?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Oh this is famous! This is famous!" He shouted, after embracing her for a long period of time. "You are such a perfect creature. I shall never see your equal, of that I am sure."

"I would hope that you shall never meet another woman who will make you want to propose. Not if...if we are married." A thrill went through her at the idea of her presiding over her own household, with her own servants and her own darling husband.

"We will be married soon! I promise!" He leaned in slowly and with caution touched his lips to hers. The kiss was not deepened, it was not about fire or passion or forbidden love. No. This gesture was the opposite. It was devotion and it was security and it was the knowledge that the other would always be there.

"Can we come in now, Arthur? Honestly, you do go about the business quite slowly! I am sure that any one of my London suitors would have had done with the matter ages ago. Well, perhaps not Mr. Farrow, because he does tend to ramble on. But he has a large fortune, which makes him easier to bear."

"Forgive Maude. She is too dependent on wealth to be romantic." Arthur whispered. "You are very beautiful."

"Do not flatter me! I am well aware that I am plain."

"Not to me, my darling." He was about to kiss her again when Maude came tumbling into the room.

"You are betrothed! How happy I am! George! George!" Her elder brother reluctantly answered her calls and entered the room, taking in the pretty tableau of his brother and Rosalind together on the sofa. "George! Now we will just have to go to London, for I am quite sure that nowhere else has the right sort of clothes and fabric for a wedding trousseau as fabulous and grand as Rosalind's will have to be. Oh, when shall we go?"

"Whenever our parents, and Miss Ellis' parents permit."

"Oh, I am convinced that it will be soon. How I long to see London again! I wonder if Mr. Mantlin remembers me. I hope he does!" She fell back onto an armchair which was sitting beside the fire, and sighed happily. "Do not you think that everything has worked itself out for the best?"

"Only time will tell."

"How dreadfully dull you have become, George. Honestly! I remember the time when you brought your fancy piece along to dinner when Uncle Jasper and Aunt Mildred were staying with us. The expression on Aunt's face was unforgettable."

George decided to ignore his sister and proceeded to offer his congratulations to his brother and his soon to be sister. "I think my sister is keen to introduce you at Almack's," he drawled, "If so, then you may plead to be released from this engagement."

"How terrible of you to say that!" Laughed Arthur, little knowing that his brother was referring to a certain gentleman who was currently languishing in London, with a few hurt ribs and a rather more injured heart.

Chapter Eighteen

Rosalind left Arthur both with reluctance and difficulty, for he was all for going with her to see her father and ask his permission for the wedding immediately. She, on the other hand, knew her parents' dispositions well enough to realise that if an offer came so suddenly without her saying anything then they would be greatly offended. Her mother, she was certain, would be delighted at the chain of events and Rosalind expected her to be as giddy as Maude was at the notion of going to London at once.

"Rosalind! Oh your father said that you had gone out! Where did you go? To the Hardings'?" Apparently Lady Ellis had managed to rouse herself from her bed and was looking quite refreshed, with not even a pinch of snuff about the place.

"Yes, mama. Arthur was very pleased to see me," she remarked with a smile on her face which her mother had rarely, if ever, seen on her daughter. It made Rosalind seem quite tolerable really, such a change from the moping she had done since they had come back from London.

"Arthur? Oh, is there an understanding between you?"

"Do you speak of marriage?"

"Of course I do!" Lady Ellis exclaimed. "You are such a fortunate girl. An Earl or a Baron would have been better, I know, but I am convinced that Arthur Harding is exactly the sort of man who I would wish my daughter to be attached to."

"So he has finally proposed then?" Her father asked drolly from the door. There was an enigmatic expression on his face, and for a moment -- a terrible moment -- she thought that he would refuse his consent. He did not, however, and congratulated her as warmly as he was able. Although, Rosalind guessed, that was more likely to be down to the knowledge that there would only be one female residing with him instead of two. A welcome change for any man.

A period of celebration followed and soon Lady Ellis was arranging a dinner party for the Hardings. Her father had heard mention of plates and had abruptly left the room without an excuse, but his wife -- who was used to such behaviour -- did not comment on it. "And we will have beef ... or should we choose chicken instead because then cook could make some of that divine sauce." She was quite content to muse at length on these matters, and so Rosalind had an opportunity to gather herself together and contemplate the new path her life was turning. It would be a fine thing to be Mrs. Harding. A very fine thing, and she was aware that it was a great source of joy for her to find that someone who cared for her as unselfishly and as unconditionally as Arthur did would always be there for her.

"If you please, ma'am, the post's just arrived for you," stammered a servant. Lady Ellis looked up from her plans (for her preparations for a dinner would be as exact and careful as those of Lord Nelson on the eve of battle had been) and was handed the letter. Once opened she commented that it appeared to be written in great haste. "It is from your Aunt. She informs me that Josephine has had her child...a girl...well that is no good!" Rosalind presumed that she was unaware that her own daughter was sitting right beside her. "Oh but how awful! The physician has told them that they will not be able to have another. That will disappoint them dreadfully I am sure. My poor sister is quite dismayed."

"Is the child healthy? And Josephine?"

"Oh yes, yes. They are both perfectly well." She paused, "I have decided on the chicken. I will not deny myself or my guests the pleasure of that sauce. Now onto the puddings. I think something terribly sweet will do, for I am sure I heard Lady Harding comment on how much Sir Jeremiah likes sugary things." And she returned to her lists. Rosalind was starting to despair of her mother, and excused herself to write a note to Josephine and Johannes at once. She was determined that at least one member of the family should be sympathetic, and if Lady Ellis would not enter into that role, then she herself was quite prepared to do it.

---

The night of the dinner party arrived much quicker than anyone could have imagined, and Lady Ellis was in a tizzy for most of the day until she was persuaded, by a grand number of people, that her worrying would not help anyone. Therefore, at noon, she retired to her rooms and began the preparations for her dress. Rosalind was obliged to get ready much earlier than she would have liked, but it turned out that her mother's insistence at starting at an early hour was correct, for she was barely prepared when the Hardings arrived. Dressed in her new blue silk, she felt quite the princess -- a new and somewhat delightful feeling -- and this instantly started Maude's talk of Almack's. This time, her brothers were unable to halt the flow of her chatter and George turned to wine for comfort. She supposed that there was only so much talk of dresses and Ladies and Earls that gentlemen could tolerate, because Arthur was the only one who did not desert the group of women before dinner.

The meal itself was as successful as even the most ambitious hostess could have hoped for, and it sent the two older women into talk of all the parties and houses they had dined at, consequently it was soon announced that the Hardings would hold a dinner for the Ellis' the following week. Rosalind just caught a glimpse of her father's expression at this news and had to stifle a laugh.

"Mama, mama, do ask Lord and Lady Ellis!"

"Ask us what, Miss Harding?"

"Oh do call me Maude, Lord Ellis, for soon you will be as good as my father." She turned to her mother again and beseeched her to speak of what appeared to be a most urgent, pressing matter.

"Very well, my dear. We have been talking and, if it is convenient, we should dearly love to have Rosalind for Christmas. In London." She added after a pause.

"Do say yes Rosalind, for I do declare that it would be dreadfully dull if I was in town with only my parents and my tedious brothers. It is quite appalling how good George seems to have become." George, who had been engaged in talking to his father (a task which was never particularly pleasant to him, but one which was infinitely better than any conversation Maude was involved in), started at the mention of his name.

"I thought you would be pleased to have an exemplary brother for once."

"Arthur is the good one. I could always rely on you to cause some mischief when I was bored. Now you do nothing exciting. Whatever has made you change?"

"I have recently encountered things which have made me change my mind about life."

"Oh, you mean Arthur's engagement!" She whirled towards her youngest brother and gave him a very mean look which had the effect of making him burst into laughter. "Quentin, how is the desert?" Her brother, or cousin in reality, was quite amazed to have been addressed in such a particular way and, after he had overcome his shock, began to describe, in the most poetic of terms, the delight he found in the pudding.

"So, Lady Ellis, do we take too much for granted in hoping that Miss Ellis joins us for Christmas?"

"No, No, Lady Harding. I assure you that I would be most happy to let Rosalind have her little adventures." The smile on Lady Ellis' face was positively beaming, for to her mind it would hasten the wedding and prevent Rosalind from indulging in any flights of fancy concerning unworthy gentlemen.

"There! It is all settled!" Maude declared, looking triumphant. She grabbed her friend's hand and covered it with her own. "We will have such fun! And George will have to escort us to all the parties, so you will see how all the ladies fawn over him. It is quite indecent." Rosalind, who had not yet given her opinion on whether or not she would like to go to London, just nodded and attempted to muster up the enthusiasm for another very long, very tiresome journey and the prospect of being thrust into the kind of society that terrified her.

It took many hours for the party to dissolve itself, and once the Hardings had left Lady Ellis felt it necessary to take to her bed, having exhausted the little strength she claimed to have left. And so it was left to father and daughter to mull over recent events.

"So you head for London then. I presume that you will require new clothes, for your dear mama has protested that your own clothes are not suitable for the sort of excursions she believes you will undertake."

"If mama wishes it, then what can I do but assent?"

"You do not sound very happy. Surely a female must be happy upon her engagement to a man like Arthur Harding. He is certainly the best of the boys." He moved over to the fire and rubbed his hands to generate some sort of heat, for the house was draughty and the winter imminent.

"I am. I am just hesitant to return to London. I did not enjoy it very much the first time."

"I thought there were certain aspects of it that you enjoyed exceedingly. Obviously I was wrong. There is a first time for everything, after all." He seemed quite content to leave it there and so Rosalind hastily removed herself from his presence and rushed up to her bedroom to take comfort in recollections of times past.

---

The arrangements were made by Maude and Lady Ellis and, to Rosalind, it felt like a very small amount of time since her engagement when they departed. The journey did last an age, and the conditions were so treacherous that at times they were forced to stop at some inn until the wind and rain passed. It was not yet December, so the temperatures had not reached their lowest, but the biting gales caused Maude and Rosalind to seek heat in the fur rugs that the former had had the presence of mind to bring with them. The men, keen to prove that they were indeed real men, endured the harsh conditions as well as they were able, but indulged in a secret cigar in a vain attempt to warm up their faces.

At long last they reached London and were conveyed to Grosvenor Square, where everyone appeared to be seeking refuge in their homes, for there were very few people on the streets. "Inside at once, girls!" Lady Harding shrieked, having decided that enough was enough and that she was not going to endanger the life of a Baron's daughter. Rosalind and Maude happily complied.

"Oh it is so good to be back. George has decorated, I see. I wonder why he should take it into his head to do that, for I am convinced that the pink was quite charming."

"It was that hideous shade which was the problem," George commented as he and his brother bundled into the house. "What self-respecting bachelor could live with pink walls and frilly decorations?"

Maude was mortified. "George, you have not got rid of all my lovely ornaments, have you?" The impish grin appeared on her brother's face. "Oh I shall hate you for all my life! Detestable creature!" Before she had time to sink into a fit of the sullens, Arthur remarked that they would surely be busy the next day with calls from their friends in town. This went some way to mollify his sister, and at the mention of Lady Jersey her spirits were quite restored and her mind taken up with balls and all the other sorts of events which made the male members of the party cringe.

"Miss Ellis, you are shivering! Poor dear! Now come, we shall have a fire lit in your room and you can have a hearty supper. That will make you feel better, I am sure!"

"Thank you, Lady Harding."

"Oh, do not mention it. You are almost my daughter, so it is only fair that I fuss over you." Rosalind returned her beaming grin with a small smile. "Your mother said that you do not have a history of head colds, and for that I am grateful because whenever Arthur was a boy he had frequent bouts of sickness." She led Rosalind up the stairs, "But George was perfectly healthy throughout his childhood. Perhaps we indulged him too much, though." A huge sigh was released from her frame and Rosalind couldn't help but feel sorry for this lady and she wondered exactly what George had done to be 'basically disowned' by these caring and lenient parents.

Chapter Nineteen

Rosalind rose early the next morning, having not been able to sleep the previous night due to a mixture of trepidation and absolute terror at what the following day would bring. She tiptoed down the stairs after she heard Sir Jeremiah's loud snoring, a sound which had startled her because she was convinced that her father had never done such an improper activity. Her mother would not have tolerated the noise in any case.

She had fully expected there to be no food ready for her to breakfast on, but as she entered the dining room there was a veritable feast of breads and fruits and all manner of things which smelled all the better since she had survived on intolerable, bland meals at the odd inn they had stopped at on the way here. Ravenously, she reached for a plate when there was a sudden noise behind her.

"Miss Ellis."

"Mr. Harding. George, I mean." Her heart was rushing ten to the dozen and it took her a while to recover her breath, all the while he lounged on two chairs munching on a piece of toast. "I did not see you, I assumed that-"

"My father's snoring would do that to anyone. I am a light sleeper, something you should get used to."

"Pardon?"

"When you and my brother marry you will have to stay with my parents, for he is still at university and has not yet got a good enough fortune to set up an establishment of his own. And I spend time with my family. We will be in each other's company often." He took a last bite and finished off the slice of bread.

"How delightful."

"Sarcasm, Miss Ellis? I wouldn't have thought you were capable of it. Tea?" She nodded and he poured them out two cups worth. She gazed curiously at him as he did so, and he noticed. "Why do you look at me in such a way?"

"I do not ... That is..." she blushed and tried to recover her composure by sipping the drink he had placed in front of her. "I quite expected you to put brandy in it." This earned a laugh from him and he certainly appeared in better spirits.

"I thank you, Miss Ellis."

"For what?"

"For proving me right."

"In what way?"

"This room is dreadfully dull, isn't it?" She hesitated, confused and annoyed that he had not answered her. To be quite honest, she didn't think that décor was a fit topic to discuss at the breakfast table. "It is. I detest it, it makes you think that you are about to go to a funeral. Or that you are at a funeral. I quite expect Grandmother to be lying dead in one of those chests over there," he pointed to the corner where there were several boxes.

"I do not-"

"You're right, horribly distasteful subject. But my point is that this is the kind of family you will marry into. I love my parents, but they are a tad boorish, and Maude will certainly drive you demented within the month. Don't pay much attention to Quentin because he won't pay much attention to you, unless you have food, of course."

"You are terribly uncharitable."

"Honest, Miss Ellis. To tell you the truth, Arthur is about the only tolerable one in this family, but he's young, foolish and although you think that he loves you now -- I must warn you that things will change when he comes of age and discovers all the delights of London."

"You are vile!" She yelled, jumping up from the table, quite ready to storm out of the room if he attempted to restrain her. He did not, however, and remained seated.

"Quite possibly. But it has happened to better and wiser men than my brother. He wants to be constant, but he is only a young man with no control over his emotions. Do you suppose he has been living like a monk at university? That he has no harlot up there?"

"Stop it! Stop it!" She covered her ears and hoped that he would cease with such horrid talk.

"No, I will not. What happens if you marry and then a few years later discover that whatever affection may have existed has disappeared? That Arthur is in love with another woman? Or what if you should fall in love with another man?" He laughed bitterly. "But then, you already are." He stared intently at her and he was as serious as she had ever seen him. "I am glad you do not take me for a fool and deny it. You asked me why I said that you had proved me right. This is the reason. You, Miss Ellis, are different to all the members of my family, you have something about you -- something almost scandalous, I am sure. Arthur is besotted with that quality in you. But he will tire of it and then you would be denounced as unredeemable as me." Rosalind averted her eyes, hearing the truth in his words. "But Alex...Alex loves that part of you. He loves all of you. I have known him nearly ten years and I have never, ever seen him as affected by anything else as he is by you. Trudie sees it too, but then she's a woman and sees everything."

"He..." the words caught in her throat. "He told me never to see him again."

"Alex is foolish. I have no doubt that he regrets those words."

"Why are you doing this? Why do you prefer for me to hurt your brother rather than your friend?"

He was silent for a few moments and she was about to exit the room when he replied, in sorrowful tones, "Arthur's heart is not engaged. Alex's is, yours is. I would not have any horrible pain inflicted on those I care about. And I know that if I do not help you and Alex, then I will never be able to be easy within myself."

"You speak as if you know that pain."

"Perhaps I do." She thought that he was about to say more but at that moment Arthur bounded into the room, with eager talk of purchasing new books and going to meet his friends at the Homer Society. George glanced at Rosalind, made her look him in the eye, and then removed himself from their company, declaring that he had to meet up with old acquaintances.

"Goodbye then, George. He's a terribly fine chap. Said he'd get me into one of his clubs. Tea?" She shook her head and smiled sadly at the spectacle Arthur was making of himself by trying to plaster a roll with butter and jam and ending up with a dollop of the latter substance dribbling down the front of his waistcoat. "Damn."

---

Most of the morning and afternoon was spent receiving visitors, since word of the Hardings' arrival in town had spread quickly. It seemed that they were very popular, and although some of their guests were a little too common for Rosalind's peace of mind, they were -- on the whole -- terribly amiable.

"That was such a bore!" Maude exclaimed, yawning loudly. "Not one of my friends visited me, and none of my suitors either -- for dear Mr. Jenkins does not count. More is the pity. I expect I shall see them soon enough."

"Maude, I was thinking that I may call at my cousin's home tomorrow. I would dearly love to see her again."

"If you want to, but make sure you go in the morning for Mama has told me that we are all invited to a card party in the evening." Rosalind found herself discouraged by such a scheme, but did not voice her reluctance. "Lady Jersey was very nice, wasn't she? And I should not be surprised if you are admitted into Almack's in the next day or two."

"Do you think so? I thought she appeared rather ... cold ... towards me."

"Oh no, not at all. And if it was so she is just jealous because you are so very pretty," Maude giggled. The sound grated on Rosalind's nerves but she persevered and reminded herself that at least she would not have to reside with Maude for all of her life. Unless she remained a spinster...no, that was an awful thought. She must not let that happen. "Oh look, Arthur is back. Not that that is a cause for celebration, for now I shall be forced to play gooseberry and that is a role I detest."

Soon footsteps were heard bounding up the stairs and Maude moved away from the window, taking a position by the pianoforte in case there should be any show of affection between her brother and Rosalind.

"I had a brilliant day, Rosalind. Utterly brilliant," he shouted as he ran through the doorway. "And I am so very glad that my friends are all in town -- it seems Kendrick's father has quite driven him out of Garmley Park. Well, all the more fun for the rest of us, eh?"

"Kendrick? Mr. Kendrick? That awful bore you used to being round here? The one with that horrible beard?" Maude scrunched her face up in disgust and once again Rosalind was reminded of Eve.

"The one and the same. And he is not a bore, Maude, he is a very intelligent fellow indeed." Rosalind sought to smooth over the probable conflict and asked him if his meeting had went well. "Oh yes, capital. I was quite convinced, at first, that my Greek had been terrible, but a few discussions made it all well again."

"What is that racket outside?" Maude asked, rushing over to the window again. "Look! There is a gentleman, I do not recognize him -- oh Arthur he is coming in! It is all so very exciting. He appears extremely handsome."

"You have seen his hat and that is all."

"He was not wearing one, and he glanced up at me! Fancy, I should like to have that man as one of my suitors."

There was a commotion downstairs and suddenly it occurred to Maude that this man may mean harm. Her brother assured her that a thief would not burst into the house in broad daylight, and this went some way to mollify her. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, the harassed voice of a servant carried up to the room and all were anxious to know who this guest and his business were. The door was thrust open and a confident looking man appeared.

"Rosalind?" His voice faltered slightly, but only so much that anyone who did not know him would assume the emotion in it to be merely surprise.

"It is very nice to see you again," she breathed, "Mr. Seymour."

Chapter Twenty

"Do you know each other then?" Maude asked with her eyebrows raised. Whatever else might be said about her, she was not slow when it came to matters of the heart. Mr. Seymour looked away immediately, as if he could not bear to set eyes on Rosalind. She, in turn, winced at the unintended slight.

"We met a few months ago, when I was in London."

"Oh yes, I remember you telling me about it now. She did not even go to Almack's! Fancy that! Don't you think it is quite scandalous, Mr. ... Seymour -- was it?"

"That is my name, yes. You must be Miss Harding then, George's sister."

"Indeed I am. Although I would not be surprised if you thought I was his fancy-piece, for I daresay I am beautiful enough."

"Maude!" Arthur whispered angrily. His sister turned round and gave him a very nasty look which silenced him.

"And ... are you Arthur or Quentin, sir?"

"Arthur, pleased to make your acquaintance." The two men shook hands. "If you are a friend of Rosalind's then you will be a friend of mine!" Arthur declared. Rosalind grew faint.

"Oh?"

"Why yes! For Rosalind and I are going to be married, and I am sure that husbands and wives must have friends in common."

"Married? I congratulate you, Arthur." He turned to Rosalind but still refused to meet her gaze. Instead he peered at a painting over her shoulder as he spoke. "And you also Miss Ellis. I am sure all your relations are very pleased."

"They are, I thank you."

"Have a seat, Mr. Seymour. It is very tiresome to be continually on one's feet isn't it?" Mr. Seymour smiled in agreement. Rosalind attempted to decipher his feelings, but in vain. He seemed determined to hide his reaction to the news, that or else he simply didn't care. But she could not believe that. "Were you looking for George then? Well, he told us that he was going out to see some friends this morning but that is all I know of the matter. Rosalind," she called, "you were speaking to my horrid brother this morning, what did he say?"

"Just that he was going to meet some old acquaintances," she answered quietly. Arthur mistook her silence for discomfort and did something which only made the entire situation worse -- he grasped her hand in his and raised his lips to it.

"Mr. Seymour, are you alright?" Maude asked, concern in her voice. Rosalind presumed that she did not want to have such a handsome man die in her house. "You look frightfully pale!"

"I am ... I am fine, Miss Harding. I suffer from bad health now."

"Why?"

"I was injured a little while ago and the wound still smarts from time to time." Rosalind dared to look at him, but all his attention was focused on the other, much more beautiful young woman.

"Whatever did you do? Were you duelling for your honour -- or for someone else's? How exciting! I have never met anyone who has done that, you see. Well, expect for Mr. Yardley, but he was violently ill at the time and so his opponent was merciful. The coward!"

"You have a thirst for blood then?" Mr. Seymour asked in an amused tone. Rosalind felt a pang of jealousy rise up within her, struggled to squash it, and realised that there really was no point in attempting it.

"Maude has a thirst for anything that involves males."

"George!" His sister sprang up from where she had been sitting and faced her brother defiantly. "How beastly of you to say that! And when we have a guest and everything."

"I thought you wished me to be more unpredictable. It seems I was wrong."

"I did ... oh, you are too vexing!" She collapsed back into the chair with her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face. George moved further into the room and greeted his friend without a hint of worry. Then again, it was not his job to be anxious.

"Alex! I was going to call on you when I saw Trudie and she informed me that you had had the exact same scheme. I hurried home, of course." There was a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sure you did." He sounded relieved. Perhaps, Rosalind supposed, he felt as horrible as she did at the moment and saw George's entrance as a way to avoid her.

"Did you have anything terribly important to discuss? I'm so tired, that all I want to do is sit down with a glass of scotch and a tart."

"George!" He was reprimanded this time, by his younger brother no less. "That is not the proper way to talk in front of ladies."

"Ladies? Oh, I see Rosalind now."

"What about me?" yelled Maude, coming reluctantly out of her silent sulk.

"Oh yes, well you are my sister. Not a lady."

"I've never heard anything more scandalous!"

"You have known me all your life, sister. I dare say you have. Now don't go off into a sulk again -- men don't like moody women, do we Alex?"

"No, I am afraid that George is correct, Miss Harding." Before she had time to respond, Mr. Seymour rose and began to make his goodbyes.

"If you must go then you can escort Rosalind to her cousins'," George drawled. "For she has been meaning to go and I would not like her to go on her own." Arthur started to complain but George checked him, "You have already pledged yourself to your friends for dinner. As far as I am aware, Alex has no arrangements which cannot be changed."

"And how would you know that?" asked Mr. Seymour wryly.

"Alex, you never have engagements which cannot be altered. It is not in your nature."

"True," he mused. Rosalind thought that such an expression suited him perfectly.

"So, Rosalind," George said, "Will you have him?"

"Yes," she replied far too hastily for it drew the attention of all those gathered there. She blushed furiously and continued, "That is, I would be grateful if you would escort me Mr. Seymour. If you are not busy."

"No, I am very not-busy, I assure you." She relaxed her features once again and raised her hand to cool her fevered cheeks. It really was most disconcerting for that to happen, in fact, she had gotten used to it not taking place that it had scared her when she felt the heat return.

"Thank you. I will just fetch my shawl."

"You will need a damn sight more than a shawl, Miss Ellis," Mr. Seymour advised her. "It is bloody cold out there."

"Very well." She returned about a quarter of an hour later with a winter cloak and a small bag which contained the presents she thought Josephine and Johannes would appreciate for their baby. "I hope it won't be too heavy. I suppose it won't be because there isn't much in it-"

"What are you going on about Miss Ellis? We are taking my carriage. I will not let you walk around in such weather."

She could not resist the comment which followed, "But it is not so very far, and the area is quite good." Upon his expression after that she regretted saying it at all.

"We must be off. Miss Ellis?" He sounded mightily stiff and haughty.

"I am coming. Arthur, Maude, I will be back as soon as I can."

"Oh and what am I? The cat's mother?" George questioned.

"Of course not! And be so kind as to inform your parents about my whereabouts. I would not like them to be concerned."

"Go! Before Arthur changes his mind about allowing his intended to go off in carriage with only a very fine looking gentleman for company! And on such a cold night." Perhaps George had imbibed a little too much alcohol that day. Arthur was not pleased and Rosalind sought to reassure him that he need not fear. But she was unable to.

Soon she and Mr. Seymour were in the carriage and she positioned herself by a window to avoid as much communication as she could. In the end it did not work.

"We are alone at last Rosalind."

"Yes. Yes, we are."

Chapter Twenty-One

The journey should not have been long, which had been one of the reasons why Rosalind had been so willing to walk. The other reason was sitting opposite her and staring at her intently.

"So..."

"You said not to make contact, so I did not." She hoped that the feeling of guilt she was undergoing was not evident on her face. "I only did as I was asked."

"Like the good, dutiful daughter that you are." Was he being sarcastic? She could not think of anything she had done which would have offended him in any way. "How long did your mother take to suggest Arthur Harding as a husband? Did she outlast half an hour?" There was a definite sneer now.

"She is my mother. Take care to remember that," she warned, acting out a toughness which did not exist. Perhaps if she were hard and difficult then he would not attempt conversation with her.

"Of course," he conceded. Rosalind thought he moved nearer and immediately retreated as far back as she could. A bitter smile appeared on his face, "I will not hurt you, don't you know that?" He didn't give her time to answer, "Did you believe that I had offered to escort you to your cousin with no other thought in my mind than to destroy your virtue?"

"No, certainly not." She glanced down at her hands which were folded tightly in her lap. "It is just ... surprisingly difficult to meet you again. Alone."

"I know, and understand." He released a sigh, "I am well aware that I gave you no belief that our relationship was leading anywhere, but I thought ... I thought that you cared for me more."

"I do."

"Do you?" His gaze became piercing once again. "Then why did you get engaged to Arthur so quickly?"

"I don't know," Rosalind answered simply. "He loves me, I suppose. And he is ... safe ... and dependable."

"Which I am not."

"Mr. Seymour, I do not think that anyone has ever classed you as a dependable sort of person in your entire life. Let alone a safe one!"

"Really? I must admit that that is very flattering. I am quite pleased." Then his mood changed once again. "I am serious, Miss Ellis-"

"Please don't call me that."

"What should I call you then?"

"Call me Rosalind, like you did when you first saw me again."

There was a silence. "Very well." He glanced out the window. "Ah, I see that we are here. This is where we part ways I believe, Miss- Rosalind," he corrected himself. "I hope to have the pleasure of your company soon." She wondered why he had become so formal all of a sudden, then noticed her Aunt staring intently at the carriage and realised that she must not appear to be doing anything improper. Mr. Seymour jumped out, offered her his hand and help in getting down and bid her and her Aunt -- whom she did not think he had ever met before -- a very good day. Moments later he was gone.

"You better not let your betrothed get wind of that incident," the older woman remarked.

"He knows, Aunt. And he allowed it to happen. I am not so very bad."

"I understand that, but it would be such a shame if that offer were taken back. It would quite sully your name, my dear." She sighed, "At least you are having more success than Eve. The poor thing is quite desolate since the departure of Mr. Blakely. Darling Mr. Drake has attempted to lift her spirits, but it seems no one and nothing can."

"Mr. Blakely has left London?"

"Oh yes, some months ago. Just after you departed yourself actually."

"Oh. That is very ... interesting. I shall call on Eve as soon as I am able, tell her that."

"I will," replied her Aunt. "But I must leave now, for I promised her that I should meet her to go shopping. This winter's fashions are constantly changing!" And so her Aunt was off and Rosalind was left to cool her flushed cheeks in the bitter air. It did not work, however, and soon she was afraid that she would catch a cold and a fever. Such an undignified way to spend time in London, even she knew that. She could only imagine the look on Maude's face if she fell ill and was forced to forego the pleasures of Almack's for another season. Then, stifling a giggle, she went inside.

The butler informed her that the lady of the house was not taking any more visitors, no doubt exhausted by her mother's visit. However, she was informed that Johannes was about and if she wished to speak to him then there were no problems. She thanked the butler and was shown to Johannes' study. He stood there with his back to her even when she had been introduced, but his shoulders relaxed slightly when he heard who it was. Perhaps he too had been fatigued by his mother-in-law's visit.

"Rosalind, it is very nice to see you," he stated calmly, but he still did not turn round.

"I came here to see how you all were. And the baby, of course."

"We are all fine. It is the others who are the problem," a hint of frustration had crept into his voice.

She stepped forward hesitantly, "Is it...is it my Aunt?" He turned around that time, with a bitter smile on his face.

"You see everything, don't you cousin? Yes, it is she. She seems to think that it is a combination of the child's fault and ours that Josephine cannot have any more children. Apparently our child is destined for evil."

"She did not say that, did she?"

"I assure you, she did. Josephine was distraught." He removed himself from the window and sat in a large armchair beside the fire. Rosalind was invited to join him. "So how are you?"

"Very well. I take it you know..."

"About your engagement? Of course! From all accounts your Mr. Harding is a very nice man, very amiable, very intelligent. In the book-learning sense."

"Oh yes, I do not think he is very smart in other areas."

"Quite unlike other gentlemen then, who are often smarter when it comes to clothing and horses than books and Homer." Johannes lifted a cup and poured some tea into it. Upon her look he exclaimed, "I am not so far gone as to drown my sorrows in alcohol. I prefer tea, very soothing. You English make it quite well. And do not say that I am English, for I am not!"

"Then what are you? Your father was English."

"My mother was Bavarian, I was born there. Therefore I am Bavarian as well." She laughed and it brought a little smile to his face. "Thank you, Rosalind. I was wallowing in self-pity before you came."

"And you are not now?"

"No, I am paddling in it, I believe. Quite refreshing." He noticed the package she had in her lap for the first time. "What is that?!"

"I brought presents for all the family. I hope you do not think it impertinent or improper..."

"Why should it be? No, presents will be most welcome. I have a feeling that this child will be spoiled something dreadful."

She handed over the package to Johannes, who said that he would show it to his wife later on. She was sleeping at the moment, apparently. "What is your daughter's name?"

"Ophelia."

"That is a nice name..."

"But it has unfortunate connotations, I hear you say. But no one else has picked up on that. Apart from Mr. Seymour."

"Mr. Seymour?"

"Oh yes. He called around last night, seemed in a devilish bad way."

"Really? I hope it was not something very serious." She also hoped that her expression and voice did not give anything away.

"Well, you never know. He and Josephine get along famously."

"Are you not..." she stumbled over her words, "Are you not worried?"

"Whatever about? Josephine and Seymour? The idea is ridiculous, Rosalind. He is clearly affected by another."

"Oh?" She knew that she coloured at that comment, but she presumed that he would believe it due to the fire.

"Indeed. The whole town regards a match between him and Duchess Waterson to be imminent."

"Oh. But I thought they were just friends."

"I think they are ... but there have been rumours ... and I do not think that they will ever love. It is a pity."

"So it would be a marriage of convenience?"

"I suppose. But then, surely you know. Was it not his carriage that I saw you getting out of when you arrived?"

"It ... it was. But only because he was calling at the Hardings'. He is George's friend. Oh please do not think-"

He laughed, the smile making his face more handsome than it had been previously. "Oh do not think that I am accusing you of an indiscretion with Seymour! The idea revolts!" He laughed again.

Rosalind did not feel as happy.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rosalind did not have the opportunity either to speak to Johannes or see Josephine before Christmas, since they had returned to their estate some twenty miles away from London. She did, however, have the fortune to meet her cousin Eve one afternoon when Lady Harding had decided to go on a shopping trip for wedding clothes.

"Rosalind?" She turned around and saw her cousin standing looking at some ribbons, a pink one dangling from her hand. She smiled hesitantly and watched in amazement as Eve ran over and embraced her. "It is so lovely to see you once again! I feared that we would quite fall out over your Mr. Seymour and my Mr. Blakely."

"It is good that we have not."

"And I hear that you listened to me and all the warnings and have got yourself engaged! Is he handsome? Henry tells me that he is fairly well-looking, but he refused to give me any more information. Brothers! Who would tolerate them were they not, on occasion, generous with presents?" Rosalind smiled and replied that Arthur was indeed quite handsome, which appeared to please Eve. "Good! For I declare, what could be worse than to be married to some ugly man for all your life? That is why I never pay any attention to Mr. Drake. Poor man, he is quite ... mama says he is distinguished in his looks."

"Mr. Drake seems to be a very amiable man. I do not think it wise for you to dismiss him outright."

"But I already have," Eve answered, taking a look at some muslin that was nearby. "He proposed, you know. Awful business, I almost felt bad when I refused him." Rosalind was trying to comprehend this news when her cousin continued, "Surely he must have known that my heart is with Mr. Blakely!"

"Perhaps..." she was unsure whether or not she should say what she was thinking, "Perhaps he loved you before you even met Mr. Blakely."

Eve whirled round with a scowl on her face, "You are just as awkward as my brother. He said the exact same thing. Why should I have accepted him merely because I knew him first? The both of you know nothing about love!" Rosalind feared that Eve would burst into hysterics but that was avoided by the arrival of Lady Harding and Maude.

"Rosalind, we have seen the most..." Lady Harding noticed Rosalind's companion and expressed her wish to be introduced to her.

"Lady Harding this is my cousin Miss Eve Beckett. Eve, this is Lady Harding. Arthur's mother. And this is Maude."

"Her future sister! I cannot wait! It will be so very exciting."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Gone were the tears and in their place was a very welcoming and friendly smile. "I was just telling my cousin some news. It is so long since I have been able to talk to her, for I believe that your family have quite monopolised her!" If either of the other females had been in any way intelligent or sharp then Rosalind had no doubt that they would have taken offence at her comment. Fortunately, they parted ways believing the young woman to be very nice indeed.

"She is very fashionable," Maude sighed in envy. "If only George would-"

"I would not entertain any of those notions. George has become very stubborn recently."

"Mama-"

"There is no point. I cannot make him change his mind."

"If only he would recover! He is not the same brother that I had." Then they seemed to remember that Rosalind was in their company and the talk returned to the quality of fabric. Rosalind was intrigued by their conversation which had been so abruptly put to an end, but did not seek to discover more. George had his own reasons for acting like he did and if he did not wish her to know then she would not pry.

The morrow brought complaints and shrieks, for there was to be a dinner party that night to which all of the Hardings' acquaintances seemed to have been invited. It was nothing compared with her own mother's worries, but Rosalind still found that her life was easier out of the way in an alcove somewhere.

"Rosalind, darling, are you well?"

"I am perfectly healthy, thank you. I just needed a little peace to settle my thoughts," she replied to a worried looking Arthur. She smiled and encouraged him to be off to meet his friends, declaring that she would be occupied the entire day anyway so he need not stay on her account.

"Thank you ... that is, I did so promise that I would see them all before tonight. Sorry, I don't mean to be so...Well..."

She chuckled, "Never worry! I understand you very well." He offered her a relieved smile and ran down the staircase. Taking up a book (one which she had carefully checked was not Byron or the book he had given her), Rosalind settled down and wrapped a shawl around herself as she began to read.

A few hours later she felt someone standing behind her and, turning, she realised that it was George. "Good book?"

"It's bearable. I have read it before, though."

"I never have time for books," he answered, shoving her over slightly and placing himself beside her. "The habit is far too solitary for my liking, one is inclined to become despondent."

"I believe that depends on what you are reading," she spoke softly. "Or when you read it. I know that I have read something many times and its meaning changes...adapts to suit my mood." George raked his hand through his mop of dark hair and released a large sigh. She glanced curiously at him but did not ask or seek an explanation.

He gave one anyway.

"You are right, I believe. You are very wise for someone who has such limited experience in life. But then, you are not disillusioned."

"Are you?" She asked after a hesitation, wary of treading on his feelings too much.

"I am, Rosalind. I am ashamed to admit it, but I am. Very much so, in fact."

"You needn't be ashamed. It is natural I suppose. Everyone regrets something or other in their lives or sees how the world could have treated them differently. It is my belief that people are judged too soon, especially in London."

"People are all the same no matter where you go. A fact I know well."

"You have travelled? Oh, I am so very ignorant I fear. Of course you have travelled, you must have taken the grand tour."

"Only briefly. My ... attention ... was engaged elsewhere at that time." His strong frame seemed to collapse back onto the wall. "I was young, foolish. But then we all are at some stage or another." Did he want to tell her something? It seemed that he did but could not formulate the words to do so. "Have you ever been to the theatre?"

"Once."

"And did you enjoy it?"

"I was entertained, certainly. Why do you ask?" But he did not respond to her question. Instead he pursued his own line of inquiry.

"And the actresses, did you think them pretty?"

Rosalind struggled to recall all the details of the play they had attended some months ago, but could not recall whether or not the actresses were beautiful. "They wore much rouge, I think. Some of them were quite ... unsuitable. Or so I felt."

"Some of them are. Indeed, most of them are." He inhaled and released another breath. "But there are occasionally those who sparkle, those who are not vulgar and common and base." He averted his eyes to the window. "When I was three and twenty I fell in love (if one can do so) with one such woman. She was magnificent and I had never met and, I believe, will never meet her equal -- either in appearance or character or anything else that matters."

"And, what -- may I ask -- was her name?"

"Gwen. That is all I knew of her for a long time. But she became exceedingly dear to me and I cherished her like no one I had before. You must understand that I have had...intimate relationships ... with women, but this was something different. Something far purer and it was liberating."

"I understand."

"I supposed you would. Yet Gwen would not entertain me for many months until something happened which spurred her towards me. And by God I was thankful!" Rosalind's mouth formed a bitter-sweet smile and her heart tightened slightly at the sight of her friend (for he was undoubtedly her friend now) in such pain. "We married in secret. I realised that my parents would not tolerate a match between us but I had hoped, I had presumed, that they would not take offence after the event." He looked up and their eyes met. "They did, as you may have guessed. They, in truth, disowned me -- I am certain you have heard that -- and I was cast more or less penniless onto the world. Not that I cared, for I had good friends and a wonderful wife to love. That is how Alex and I became close, he never deserted me. I feel that he understood, on some level, what I was undergoing." His right hand, with its protruding scar, reached out and pressed itself against his forehead. "But soon Gwen became ill. Less than a year after our marriage, she died." His words faltered and his voice cracked. "She was only twenty-four."

Rosalind did not know what to say, how to respond to such an unexpected account. He was greatly moved by its recollection, but she understood that it was no use offering him her apologies or commiserations.

"My father heard the tale and he invited me back into the family. I was not going to return for I had this irrational belief that her death was a result of his neglect of us. Then I saw them all again and I realised that I could not shun them for they were all that I had left. It sounds rather pathetic, when I think of it like that. I need you to recognize that I was never destitute. Just alone, in spirit rather than in body."

She leant over and lightly touched his fingers. It seemed to give him comfort, or at least something else to focus on other than the memories which haunted him. "For what you have undergone, I think you an incredibly strong person to have survived and kept a sense of who you are."

"Thank you," he drawled, some of the irony seeping back into his voice. "But I see it is past three o'clock so I must leave you now and urge you to start to prepare for tonight's entertainment, or else my mother will be in a great panic once again. There were no suitable flowers earlier and Maude informs me that she almost succumbed to an attack of nerves. Poor, pitiable woman!" His tone belied his words and she was obliged to laugh. He became serious once again, "I now see what has captivated Alex. You are quite pretty at times."

"I offer you my thanks, or so I think."

George guffawed and went to exit the room. When he was about to cross the threshold he stopped and said, quite unexpectedly, "Oh and, by the way, Alex is coming tonight. Just to add an incentive to your preparations." He departed and Rosalind was left with only her scarlet blushes and whirling thoughts for company.

© 2006 Copyright held by the author.

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