Starting Over

Part IX

Her prayers were being ignored lately, Rosalind thought when she got up the next day and looked out of the window. First, she had asked for Mr. Irving to stay away -- and he had arrived in Rampton the very next day. Yesterday, she had asked for rain -- and on looking out of her bedroom window, she saw glorious sunshine. Someone up there hated her.

"You do not look too happy," her father said to her at the breakfast table, when her brothers and sisters were cheerfully talking about the outing and she remained silent.

"Don't I?" Rosalind said. "Well, I must admit I'd rather stay at home today."

"You cannot be serious," Miranda exclaimed. "Rosie!"

"I suspected yesterday that you did not really want to go," Mr. Acton said.

"Still you robbed me of the only excuse I had," Rosalind said grimly.

Mr. Acton chuckled. "You sound as if you had to do something really dreadful when all you are going to do is going to Kenilworth on an exceptionally fine day. A penance, I'm sure."

"It is, considering with whom I am going," Rosalind said darkly.

"Have you quarrelled with Lady Wilcox?" Mr. Acton asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Papa! You know very well that I have no objection to Lady Wilcox's company -- and who could ever quarrel with her? I am talking about the ladies currently residing in Effingham Court." And Mr. Irving, she added silently.

"Surely you can keep out of their way," Mr. Acton said. "Stick to your brothers."

Rosalind was not sure whether this would help. If she wanted to keep clear of Miss Delaney, she had better stick to the ladies. They were the company Miss Delaney did not care for. Men, no matter how insignificant, would not be safe from her. Even if she was not at all interested in a young man she would flirt with him just to test her effect on him -- and to make the ones she was interested in jealous enough to make them do what she wanted.

Half an hour later, there was a commotion in the hallway. The party from Effingham Court had arrived. Sir Leonard and Martin Wilcox came into the Rectory to ask whether the Actons were ready to go. Mr. Wilcox gave Beatrice an admiring look -- she looked remarkably pretty in the new dress she had put on for the occasion, and Mr. Wilcox was quick to notice it even though he did not say anything. Rosalind hoped that he and Beatrice would get a chance to be alone during the day. There was no reason to assume Mr. Wilcox would do anything improper. He was too shy to talk to ladies, and was unlikely to become forward all of a sudden. Still, if they were alone Beatrice might be able to draw him out and get him to speak.

There were three carriages waiting outside the Rectory. One was Lady Wilcox's barouche, containing Lady Wilcox, her daughter, and the Delaneys. Rosalind was grateful to see that there was no room in the barouche for anyone else. She would not have to endure the Delaneys on the way to Kenilworth, or on their way home. One had to be thankful for the small mercies, she thought.

The second was Lady Wilcox's travelling coach, and the third one, Rosalind noted, belonged to Mr. Deane. She supposed that Mr. Irving would be travelling in this one, and hoped she would be placed in the Wilcoxes' carriage.

There was no such luck, however. The Wilcox carriage, Sir Leonard explained, was the largest, and therefore it was to convey the Wilcox and Acton gentlemen.

"There are five of us," he said, "but there is only room for four in Mr. Deane's carriage. I am sure Mr. Irving will take good care of you."

Miranda's face brightened when she realised they were going to spend the entire ride to Kenilworth in Mr. Irving's company, and she was probably planning to sit next to him. Rosalind was not quite as pleased upon hearing the news, but having to travel in Mr. Irving's company was the lesser evil in comparison to having to endure the Delaneys.

Whether Miranda had planned it or not, her wish certainly came true. Mr. Irving handed her in, and took his seat next to her. Unfortunately, this seat was also opposite Rosalind's, so Rosalind had to resign herself to having to face Mr. Irving during the journey.

He seemed to be in a particularly amiable mood, though he did not talk to Rosalind any more than to her sisters. He was not unfriendly though, for which Rosalind was glad. She hoped this meant he had forgiven her for leaving him behind for Mr. Trent's sake -- which was how it must have appeared to him. He could not know that she did not find Mr. Trent any more interesting than him. It was only that she felt safe with Mr. Trent, while she always had a sense of ... well, danger, when he was around, especially when she was alone with him. In fact, she did not quite trust him -- or was it that she did not trust herself when he was with her? It was an uncomfortable thought.

"I trust you have been to Kenilworth before," she heard Mr. Irving say and realised that he was looking at her, expecting her to reply.

"Quite often," she said with a slight smile. "My parents take us there for a picnic about once every year, sometimes even twice. When we were little, my brothers used to terrify my mother by climbing the ruins."

"And she was always shocked at how we looked by the time we got home," Miranda chimed in. "Our gowns were so dirty that she said no one would believe we were a gentleman's daughters if anyone saw us in that state."

Rosalind laughed. "How she used to berate us! But Papa was on our side. He said he did not want to live in a world where children were not allowed to play and behave according to their age."

"Mr. Acton is a wise man," Mr. Irving said.

Rosalind smiled, and accepted the compliment on her father's behalf.

Mr. Irving then returned to the topic of Kenilworth, asking them to prepare him for what he was going to see there.

"The castle ruins," Miranda said.

Mr. Irving smiled. "I had gathered as much," he said. "But I was hoping for some more information."

"You will find some fine examples of Gothic architecture," Rosalind said. "The Great Hall must have been especially beautiful."

"The Keep is awe-inspiring too," Beatrice said.

"Oh yes, it is!" Miranda looked at Mr. Irving. "You must allow us to show you around, sir!"

"I can think of nothing more agreeable," Mr. Irving said.

Rosalind could think of several things more agreeable -- especially because she suspected that Miss Delaney would join their group too if Mr. Irving went with them. Someone like Miss Delaney would not allow him to keep company with other unattached ladies -- or, even worse, enjoy that company.

Miranda beamed, and promised Mr. Irving that they would have a delightful day. Mr. Irving gave her a noncommittal answer, and turned to Rosalind.

"By the way, my uncle is going to spend some time in the garden today."

"Indeed?" Rosalind gave him a worried look. "Don't you think it is too early yet?"

"I do," Mr. Irving said with a smile. "But my uncle does not quite agree. He wished for it, most vehemently. He refused to eat unless they would take him into the garden today."

"Let us hope this will not do him more harm than good, then," Rosalind said.

"It cannot do him as much harm as starvation does," Mr. Irving said. "He will only stay there for ten minutes -- I ordered Philips to take him back inside after that. I felt it was rather hard on the old gentleman to keep him practically locked up for weeks, when his garden used to be one of his favourite places before his illness."

"Hard, but necessary," Rosalind said.

"Do you really think this short visit to his garden will harm my uncle?" Mr. Irving asked anxiously.

"I do not know," Rosalind said. "It is just that I believe it is too early still, but maybe I am wrong and it will do him good after all. We will see in the evening when we get back, I daresay."

---

Finally, the red walls of Kenilworth Castle came into view, and some minutes later the carriage stopped. They had arrived.

Mr. Irving handed them out of the carriage, and then said to Rosalind, "I believe awe-inspiring is a very fitting expression to describe this place, Miss Acton."

Rosalind laughed. "And you have not even seen it yet," she said, as they walked towards the castle. "The castle used to be on an island in a lake, by the way. The lake was a part of the castle's defensive system."

"Indeed? Then where has the lake gone now?" Mr. Irving asked.

"It was drained," Rosalind said. "Simply because it was part of the castle's defensive system."

That moment, Miss Delaney came towards them.

"Mr. Irving!" she exclaimed, and held on to his arm the moment she reached him. "How I pitied you for being stuck in that old coach," she continued, looking up at him. "I daresay you were terribly bored!" She threw a malicious glance at Rosalind, indicating that the old coach had not been her only reason for pitying Mr. Irving.

"I was not bored at all, Miss Delaney," Mr. Irving said. "On the contrary, I have found my travelling companions most entertaining."

Miss Delaney gave a derisive laugh. "Well, I suppose they can be amusing," she said, looking Rosalind up and down in an impudent manner. "In a certain way."

Rosalind decided not to take these insults. "I believe my brother needs me," she said and, with a nod, left Mr. Irving and Miss Delaney to their devices, walking over to where her brothers stood with Mr. Wilcox. If Miss Delaney thought Rosalind would put up with her impertinence she had better think again.

"William, if you do not wish to see me hanged you had better keep Miss Delaney away from me," she whispered in her brother's ear.

William grinned. "I'll do what I can, Rosie," he said. "What do you say, Martin?"

Mr. Wilcox was unable to say anything on the subject -- he felt that any derogatory remark about his guests was grossly uncivil, no matter how true it was, and his shyness prevented him from expressing his opinion as freely as most other people would have done.

Sir Leonard and Lady Wilcox walked ahead, leading Mrs. Delaney to the castle entrance. The young Wilcoxes and Actons went closely behind them, and Mr. Irving and Miss Delaney brought up the rear. Rosalind could hear Miss Delaney talk incessantly to Mr. Irving, telling him about some London acquaintance or other. No doubt Miss Delaney found her own conversation vastly amusing, but Mr. Irving did not laugh at any of her oh-so-witty remarks, Rosalind was pleased to note. She was more than ever convinced that Mr. Irving did not care for Miss Delaney at all, and was even beginning to suspect that he had left London to avoid her. In fact, she thought that was a more likely reason for his doing so than a sudden feeling of obligation concerning his sick great-uncle. He could not care much for Mr. Deane and his well-being ... no, that was wrong. The way he had behaved since his arrival could only mean that he did care for that, and took every measure to make sure his uncle was comfortable. Then why had he never come to Rampton before? This was his first ever visit to his uncle's house, as she knew very well.

Once they reached the castle grounds, Rosalind walked away from the group, determined to do whatever she could to make the day enjoyable for herself -- and that included staying away from Mr. Irving and Miss Delaney. Unfortunately, Miranda still remembered her promise to show Mr. Irving around, and called out to her when she noticed Rosalind was separating herself from the group.

"Rosie! Where are you going?"

"To the Keep, where else?" Rosalind retorted.

"Aren't you going to wait for us?"

Rosalind sighed inwardly, and then said, "Are you going to come with me then?"

Miranda hurried towards her. "You know we promised Mr. Irving to show him the Castle."

"You did. I didn't." Rosalind said.

"But you know that included you, Rosie," Miranda protested. "Mr. Irving won't walk with me when I am all by myself."

"You won't be all by yourself, Miranda. Miss Delaney does not look as if she were going to part with him."

"Is that it?" Miranda asked. "Has Miss Delaney set up your bristles?"

"Quite so," Rosalind said. "Honestly, you cannot expect me to be in her company all day! Indeed, if you do ask me to do it I will go and drown myself in the remains of the lake."

"That would certainly be a pity. I am sure Miss Delaney would not want to be held responsible for your untimely death," Mr. Irving suddenly said behind Rosalind. She and Miranda had been so busy arguing that neither of them had noticed that he had come towards them.

Rosalind blushed furiously. "I am sorry, Mr. Irving," she said.

"Oh, you need not apologise," Mr. Irving said laughingly. "It is quite heartening to see that there are people you seem to dislike even more than you dislike me."

"Rosie!" Miranda exclaimed. "You do not dislike Mr. Irving, do you?"

"We are not exactly the best of friends," Rosalind admitted.

"Perhaps not, but I am quite willing to mend that matter," Mr. Irving said. Rosalind cast him a furious glance, and he laughed.

"Come, Miss Acton, do not let anyone spoil your day," he said.

"This was exactly what I was planning," Rosalind said.

"By walking alone? Surely that cannot be too amusing," Mr. Irving said.

"Maybe not, but at least no one will try to provoke me at every turn," Rosalind replied.

"May I give you a piece of advice, Miss Acton?" Mr. Irving asked. "I have known Miss Delaney for much longer than you have. She will continue to bother you if she realises that her jibes have an effect on you. You'd deal better with her if you came with us and gave back as well as you got. You did very well yesterday evening, you know."

"I only talked to Miss Delaney when we arrived," Rosalind said. "You were not there then. So how do you know?"

"She told me," he said with a laugh. "Not in as many words, of course, but she told me you were impertinent, and seemed quite upset."

"I am sorry to have upset her, but it was no more than she deserved."

"I do not doubt that," Mr. Irving said with a laugh. "Miss Delaney does not get along with ladies, I am afraid. She prefers the company of gentlemen."

"I realised as much," Rosalind said.

"So she will not misbehave quite as much as long as I am around," Mr. Irving said. "She wishes to make a good impression on me."

"Did she say so?"

"No, but it is obvious." Mr. Irving smiled. "So, will you be so kind as to show us the castle? I promise Miss Delaney will not go too far."

---

Rosalind had been skeptical at first, but while they walked around the castle grounds she noticed that Miss Delaney was, indeed, on her best behaviour. She was not really interested in what Rosalind and her sisters had to say, but since Mr. Irving seemed to be interested she kept quiet, and just impatiently tapped her foot whenever they remained in one place for longer than she thought necessary. When their tour of the castle was finished, she even thanked Rosalind and her sisters for telling them what they knew about the castle. She would not have been Miss Delaney, however, had she not added, in a disparaging manner, "I daresay you are quite the scholars, all of you."

With a mischievous smile, Rosalind answered, "Oh yes. You see, with so little to occupy our minds here in the country, we must take what we can get."

She was amused to see Miss Delaney preparing for a retort but biting it back at the last moment.

"It is most unfortunate," she merely said. "My mama always says bookish ladies will have a hard time to find husbands. Gentlemen do not really like bluestockings, I have been told."

"Unless they are bookish themselves," Rosalind said, smilingly. "And if he is pleasant and thoughtful, a scholar will do quite well for me."

"I believe that would be a bore," Miss Delaney said. "I am looking for a bit more excitement in my life -- but I suppose you cannot quite understand why."

"No, I cannot," Rosalind said. "Excitement is quite nice, now and then. But don't you think excitement will pall sooner or later?"

"Perhaps, but boredom palls forever," Miss Delaney said. "It may do for others, but certainly not for me."

Lady Wilcox was an excellent hostess, as everyone who knew her was aware of, and her cook was one of the best in the county. It was therefore hardly surprising that, while the young people had strolled around the site and examined the ruins, she had prepared a picnic for them. She had chosen a spot with a good view both of the castle ruins and Kenilworth village, and had spread several blankets on the ground and unpacked the hampers her servants had brought with them. Rosalind's brothers were the first to notice that they were in for a treat, and no sooner had Lady Wilcox added her finishing touches to the picnic that they came running towards her.

Eventually, everyone was sitting down and enjoying the delicacies from Lady Wilcox's kitchen. Even the Delaneys seemed to put their superciliousness aside for the moment and ate as heartily as everyone else.

"This was wonderful," Rosalind's youngest brother Richard finally exclaimed. "What a feast! You are spoiling us, Lady Wilcox."

"Not at all," Lady Wilcox said with a smile. She was well pleased with Richard's compliment, unrefined though it was. One could not expect a fifteen-year-old boy to express himself with the same polish as, say, Mr. Irving who was many years his senior and had had plenty of opportunity to acquaint himself with the ways of the elegant world. "It goes well with the tradition of Kenilworth, that is all. Lord Leicester was a lavish host, and it would not do to desecrate this site by not offering the best of everything to one's guests."

"I daresay he'd rise from his grave and haunt you," Rosalind said with a laugh. "But I do not believe he will have reason to disapprove of your hospitality, ma'am. You have outdone yourself, and that does mean something."

"What is everyone talking about?" Miss Delaney complained.

"The Earl of Leicester was one of the former owners of the castle," Mr. Irving explained. "At one occasion he received the Queen at the castle, and took great pains to entertain her."

"They went hunting during the day," Rosalind said, "and held banquets in the evening. There was music, dancing, and I do not know what else. The celebrations lasted a fortnight, it is said, and have become legendary ever since."

"A fortnight of celebration!" Miss Delaney exclaimed. "How exciting it must have been!"

"And tiring, too," Rosalind said dryly.

"I cannot promise you a fortnight of celebration," Lady Wilcox said. "But, dear Patience, I was talking to your mama while you were exploring the Castle, and we have decided that a ball would be quite the thing. There hasn't been a ball at Effingham Court in a while, and I am looking forward to it. What do you say?"

"A ball!" Miranda exclaimed. "This is a capital idea, Lady Wilcox! When is it going to be?"

Miss Delaney gave Miranda a censorious glance, before she said, "A very agreeable idea, Lady Wilcox. I am looking forward to it."

"Certainly you do. Every young lady likes to dance! I think it will take place in a fortnight. It cannot be earlier than that -- there is so much to do. After all I want it to be a memorable evening."

"It will be, Lady Wilcox," Beatrice said. "Everyone knows what an excellent hostess you are."

Rosalind did not say anything to Lady Wilcox's projected ball -- and no one had expected her to say anything either. She finished eating, and then excused herself, saying that she wished to go for a short walk before starting the journey home.

She followed the footpath along the edge of the former lake, enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet. At one point, she sat down in the grass, thinking.

A ball. She had not attended a ball ever since that incident in London. She had gone back home three days later, and although her mother would have taken her to the assemblies at Warwick or Stratford she had not wanted to go. She had been made a fool of once, and did not wish to repeat the experience. But this time she would not get out of it. Lady Wilcox would want her to come, and would be offended if she did not. Rosalind did not depend on falling ill at the last moment -- her prayers had not been answered lately. She would have to go, and dance, and he would be there too. Rosalind sighed. A ball had been the last thing she had wanted.

She got up intending to go back to the castle, only to see Mr. Irving coming towards her.

"Lady Wilcox was worried where you had got to," he said when he reached her, "and Miss Delaney wishes to go home now, so I offered to go and get you."

"I wonder they let you go all by yourself," Rosalind said.

"Oh, Miss Delaney would have kept me company, but I happened to mention that the path was in all likelihood muddy."

Rosalind laughed. "Poor Miss Delaney," she said.

"You pity her?"

"Not really."

There was a short pause. Then Mr. Irving said, "You did not seem to be too happy about Lady Wilcox's idea."

"Which one?"

"The ball. Don't you like to dance, Miss Acton?"

"I used to," Rosalind said quietly.

"But not any more? Why?"

"Something happened to put me off dancing," Rosalind said. "I have not attended a ball ever since I returned from London."

"Why not?" Mr. Irving asked, and then suddenly stopped. "Was it because of me? Because of what happened the other night?"

"Yes," Rosalind said. "I did not relish being a laughing-stock, so I decided to stay at home in the future."

Mr. Irving seemed struck. He did not say anything for a while. They kept standing where they were, until Rosalind said, "Well, sir, I think we had better make haste. We do not want Miss Delaney to lose her patience, do we?"

He laughed. "Would you care, Miss Acton?" he asked. Then he became earnest again, and took Rosalind's hand.

"Miss Acton, promise me to come to Lady Wilcox's ball."

"It does not look as if I had a choice," Rosalind said.

"Promise."

"Very well, if you insist. I promise to attend Lady Wilcox's ball."

He smiled. "If you do not come, I will personally come to the Rectory and drag you to Effingham Court."

"Why is it so important to you that I should come?" Rosalind asked.

"Because I need to prove to you that I can be different from what I was then," he said. "You do not believe me yet, do you? I am afraid it will take a ball to convince you." He laughed. "I am glad Lady Wilcox offers me the chance."

Part X

When Rosalind went to the Manor House to visit Mr. Deane the next morning, her fears regarding his health turned out to have become true. His visit to the garden the previous day had not done him any good -- he had been greatly fatigued, and in consequence he was too weak to leave his bed. He made no effort to hide his annoyance -- he even scowled at Rosalind when she asked him how he was.

"Mr. Deane finds himself in indifferent health today," Philips said in answer to Rosalind's question, which earned him a glare from his employer.

Rosalind refrained from saying that this was how she had thought it would be, and instead merely said that an occasional relapse was to be expected.

"You will soon be better again, Mr. Deane."

Mr. Deane scribbled something on his slate. Nonsense.

"Is it, Mr. Deane?" Rosalind asked. "Would you prefer me not to try to lift your spirits, sir?"

Mr. Deane grinned. Very kind, he wrote.

"I know," Rosalind said. "It is one of the few things I can do for you."

You do a lot.

"Not as much as I could wish, sir."

Philips supported his master while Rosalind arranged his pillows.

"There we are," she said when Mr. Deane leant back. "Are you comfortable, sir?"

Thank you, he wrote.

"Have you had enough to drink?" Rosalind asked. "You know you must drink enough, sir."

My mother, he wrote.

"Your mother, sir?" Rosalind asked, puzzled.

Said that. Often.

"She said you must drink enough?"

Yes.

"It seems your mother was a very clever lady," Rosalind said. "Though one can hardly doubt it, looking at her son."

Mr. Deane grinned again, no doubt pleased with the compliment.

"Do you want me to read to you again, sir?" Rosalind asked, taking a book from the bedside table.

Please, Mr. Deane wrote.

Rosalind sat down next to the bed and began to read. Mr. Deane listened intently, but after a while his mind seemed to drift off.

"Do you want me to stop, sir?" Rosalind asked. "Are you tired?"

Yes.

"Then I'll let you sleep, Mr. Deane," Rosalind said. "I had better go home."

She got up and took Mr. Deane's hand to take her leave, when there was a knock at the door and Mr. Irving entered the room. He was surprised to see Rosalind with his uncle.

"Good morning, Miss Acton," he said. "I did not know you were still here."

"My mother needed my help in the morning, so I could not come here at the usual time," Rosalind replied.

"Mrs. Acton is ill? I am sorry to hear it," Mr. Irving said.

"My mother is not ill," Rosalind protested.

"I thought she needed your assistance," Mr. Irving said, puzzled.

"Nursing is not the only thing I can do to help people," Rosalind said indignantly. "I hope I am of use to my family even if no one is ill."

"I do not doubt it, Miss Acton," Mr. Irving said. "I did not mean to indicate that."

"Well, I was just taking leave of Mr. Deane," Rosalind said. "Your uncle is tired."

"I see." Mr. Irving turned to his uncle. "In that case I will leave you alone, sir. I just wanted to ask your opinion on some business matter, but it is not urgent. It can wait. -- Miss Acton, may I escort you home?"

Rosalind knew that she could not possibly refuse him. Mr. Deane knew nothing of what had happened between them, and would probably be upset if she was so rude as to refuse Mr. Irving's escort.

"Certainly," she said coolly, and after bidding Mr. Deane a good day she left the room, holding on to Mr. Irving's arm.

"It does go against the grain with you, doesn't it?" Mr. Irving said, smiling at her.

"What makes you think so?" Rosalind asked.

"Two things. One, the look on your face when I asked you, and two, the way you got rid of me last time I wanted to escort you home."

"That was simply because Mr. Trent was driving and I was tired," Rosalind defended herself.

"Apart from the fact that you cannot stand me," Mr. Irving said.

"It's not that," Rosalind blurted out.

"Then what is the problem," he asked. "What do you think I'll do to you on that short way from here to the Rectory?"

"Nothing," Rosalind said. "It's not that either. It is ... well, to be honest I am not very comfortable..." She broke off.

"You are not very comfortable when I am around?"

"That's it," Rosalind admitted sheepishly. "But I have no idea why."

Mr. Irving gave her a searching look, but said nothing more until they arrived at the Rectory. When Rosalind thanked him and expected him to go back to the Manor House, he told her that he had an errand to perform. So Rosalind invited him in, and took him to the parlour where she knew her mother was to be found at that time of day. Mrs. Acton was pleased to see Mr. Irving, and even more pleased when he told her about the purpose of his visit.

"Mrs. Piggott has charged me with a message, Mrs. Acton," he said. "She says the strawberries in my uncle's garden are ripe. So she asked whether you would be so good to come and pick some. There are plenty, according to Mrs. Piggott."

"If you have no objection, Mr. Irving, I will," Mrs. Acton said.

"Why should I have any objection?" Mr. Irving asked. "Mrs. Piggott told me it was some kind of tradition, and who am I to abolish it? Besides, there are more than enough strawberries for all of us."

"In that case, we will come over tomorrow," Mrs. Acton said. "Mr. Acton is uncommonly fond of strawberry jam, you must know."

"I am glad to oblige him, then," Mr. Irving said. "If you tell me when you are going to come, ma'am, I can request Mrs. Piggott to have some refreshments prepared for you. If tomorrow will be as warm as today, you will need them."

"I am much obliged to you, sir," Mrs. Acton said. "I think we will come in the afternoon."

Mr. Irving soon took his leave of the Rectory ladies, and went back to the Manor House.

"Such a well-bred, obliging young man," Mrs. Acton sighed. "I do wonder why he has never visited his great-uncle before."

Rosalind wondered about that too. She had watched him closely when he had talked to Mr. Deane. He had seemed affectionate and respectful. Then why had he never come to Rampton before? And why did his mother refuse to cross Mr. Deane's threshold before the old man was dead?

"Perhaps there is a story behind it," she finally said. "Mr. Deane did not tell us about his family affairs."

"There must be," Mrs. Acton agreed, and turned to her needlework again.

---

The conversation with her mother made Rosalind think of the matter far more than she was supposed to. She came to the conclusion that there must have been some sort of quarrel between Mr. Deane and his niece, and that the quarrel had led to the estrangement between his family and hers. But what had caused it, she had no idea. Perhaps Mrs. Piggott knew something about it, Rosalind thought, and at the same time chided herself for being so nosy. It was none of her business and besides Mr. Irving was here now and was looking after his uncle and his uncle's estate. His behaviour with the old gentleman was that of a loving and considerate nephew -- if it were different, Rosalind would have heard of it already. So she had better stop thinking of something that did not concern her in the least.

Rosalind sighed. She had to admit to herself that she somehow wished Mr. Irving to be different. If he treated his uncle badly, she could hate him with a clear conscience. But he did not -- in fact, he was the perfect gentleman, and everyone liked him. In a way, even Rosalind liked him, she had to acknowledge grudgingly. If only she were not so ill at ease whenever he was with her.

---

The next day, Rosalind and her sisters went to the Manor House to follow Mr. Irving's invitation and pick strawberries in the garden -- Mrs. Acton had remembered a prior engagement at the last moment and had sent her daughters by themselves, confident that Mrs. Piggott would take good care of them.
First, Rosalind went to see how Mr. Deane was, and joined her sisters in the garden half an hour later. Mr. Irving was with them -- and so was a young gentleman whom Rosalind had never seen but who seemed to be on the best of terms with Mr. Irving.

"Here comes Rosie," Miranda cried eagerly when she saw her sister approach them, and ran to meet her.

"Only think," she whispered into Rosalind's ear. "This gentleman is Mr. Irving's cousin. Is he not handsome?"

"Oh, quite," Rosalind said with a smile.

"And he is so charming, too," Miranda continued dreamily. Rosalind realised that Mr. Irving's cousin was Miranda's new favourite -- she had fallen out of love with Mr. Irving. For some reason Rosalind was glad, even though she did not know what kind of man Mr. Irving's cousin was. He was closer in age to Miranda, at any rate -- he looked younger than Mr. Irving.

"There you are, Miss Acton," Mr. Irving said when they reached him. "I have just told your sisters that I have a surprise visitor -- my cousin, Nicholas Murray."

Rosalind curtsied and said, "Pleased to meet you, sir. I did not know Mr. Irving had a cousin."

"There are many things you do not know about me, Miss Acton," Mr. Irving said teasingly.

"I daresay," Rosalind retorted. "But it is doubtful whether I'd be as delighted if I found out about them as I am to meet your cousin."

Mr. Murray laughed. "That should put him in his place," he said and turned to his cousin. "Don't pretend to be any more interesting than you are, Frederick."

Rosalind thought this was a rather unkind thing to say to one's cousin, but did not comment. Instead she decided to make polite conversation.

"Have you come here from London, Mr. Murray?"

"No, I have come from Norfolk. My father owns an estate near Norwich."

"Are you going to stay with your cousin?"

"Not really. I have put up at an inn in Warwick, and am planning to come here as often as I can. I felt it would be rude to impose on Mr. Deane's hospitality. It is rude to stay in a place where the host has no chance of throwing you out if you are not wanted."

"I told you I was going to ask my uncle," Mr. Irving said.

"So you said, but would he be able to deny you?" Mr. Murray asked.

"He would," Rosalind said. "No matter how sick he feels."

Mr. Irving laughed. "You know my uncle well," he said.

"For much longer than you have known him, too," Rosalind merely replied and turned to her sisters. "If we want to get enough strawberries until tonight, we had better set to work now."
She took her basket, took leave of the gentlemen and stepped into the strawberry bed. Beatrice followed her immediately, Miranda reluctantly. Rosalind concentrated on her work and paid no attention to whether the gentlemen were still there or not. She was surprised when Mr. Irving was suddenly beside her, picking strawberries and putting them into her basket.

"Mr. Irving," she exclaimed. "You are still here? I thought you and your guest had gone."

"Nicholas suddenly decided to stay here and help the ladies -- and as his host I must oblige him."

"I see." Rosalind said. "But why did he wish to stay?"

"I am afraid I cannot read his thoughts, but it might have something to do with being in the company of delightful ladies."

"Delightful?" Rosalind asked, doubtingly.

"Now before you tell me that you are not delightful, Miss Acton, let me assure you that you are."

Rosalind was aware that she was blushing, and turned away from him to hide it. Only when she had calmed herself she turned back, and put the strawberries she had picked into her basket.

"I hope I have not embarrassed you, Miss Acton," Mr. Irving said.

"No, you have not," Rosalind said. "It is just ... I am not used to being complimented."

"Which is why you tend to disbelieve people if they do compliment you," Mr. Irving said.

"Not always," Rosalind said. "But much too often people use compliments to get me to do something for them that I would not do under normal circumstances, and I do not like that."

"You prefer people to be honest."

"Of course," Rosalind said. "Don't you?"

"I certainly do, and I do realise that I have not always been honest where you were concerned," he said quietly. "Your reserve is quite understandable. I cannot blame you, even though I wish it were different."

"If it is any comfort to you, sir, I can tell you that my opinion of you has improved a bit since you arrived here," Rosalind said.

"Then it is a good thing I did come here," Mr. Irving said.

"Do you mean to say that you were in doubt whether you should come to see your uncle?" Rosalind asked.

"Not that, exactly," Mr. Irving said. "I was just not certain whether I'd be welcome."

Rosalind stared at him. "I do not understand," she said.

Mr. Irving took her hand and said, "Let us take a turn about the garden."

They went along a gravel path until Mr. Murray and Rosalind's sisters were out of sight and out of earshot. Then Mr. Irving said, "I thought it was common knowledge that my great-uncle did not want us here -- my family, that is."

Rosalind shook her head. "Everyone thought it was strange that no member of his family visited Mr. Deane, but no one really knew why. There were rumours, but we have never listened to gossip."

"The answer is easy. We were never invited," Mr. Irving said. "My great-uncle told my mother never to cross his threshold again when she married my father."

Rosalind gasped. She had never thought Mr. Deane was capable of doing such a thing. He, the most amiable gentleman she had known, the kindest of her neighbours!

"I must admit though that she offered him severe provocation," Mr. Irving continued. "He was quite right about my father. Still, she did not listen to her uncle's warnings and married him in spite of her uncle's opposition."

"Could she do that?"

"She was of age by that time, so there was little he could do against it," Mr. Irving said. "Although he knew that my father only wanted to marry her for her money, and took great pains to make her realise it, she chose not to believe him."

"Oh dear," Rosalind said. "But why did Mr. Deane renounce her?"

"For that exact reason. According to my mother, he told her that since she had not listened to his advice, she had better make of her life what she could -- without his assistance, and she had better not come to ask for it. I believe he must have been furious."

"I can imagine," Rosalind said.

"Anyway, soon after her wedding my mother found out what kind of man she had married. Once my father had realised that he had been cheated -- that my mother's fortune was being withheld from her, he more or less abandoned her and continued the way of life he had led before. He drank more than was good for him, he gambled, and ..." He paused, obviously trying to think of an expression that would not offend her sense of propriety. "He did not know the meaning of the word fidelity," he finally said.

For a moment Rosalind thought it was disrespectful to speak of one's father in such a way, but upon reflection she had to admit that if the late Mr. Irving had indeed been an irresponsible man of loose morals he had done nothing to earn his son's respect.

"Why was your mother's fortune withheld from her?" Rosalind asked.

"Her father left the money in a way that allowed her trustees to do so, if she did not marry according to their wishes," Mr. Irving said. "She greatly resented that, as you can imagine. She always thought that her husband would have behaved differently, had she been in possession of her fortune. I do not think he would have. He'd have lost her fortune within a couple of months."

"I can quite understand Mrs. Irving's indignation," Rosalind said. "But I can also understand her uncle's motives for not giving her the entire fortune. He did give her the income derived from it, did he not?"

"Oh, he certainly did, and my father managed to waste it," Mr. Irving said. "My mother had to employ cunning tricks to get hold of enough money to feed us, at least. By the time I was old enough to go to school she asked her uncle for assistance. What she wanted was an increase of her allowance, but her uncle knew that this would not work. My father would spend the money on himself and I'd be expelled because he did not pay the bills. So great-uncle Francis offered to pay for my education."

"That was fair, I think."

"So it was, but my mother did not see it that way." Mr. Irving said. "She vowed she'd never come near her uncle again as long as he lived."

"Is she going to keep that vow?"

"Oh yes. I have no doubt of that," Mr. Irving said. "But when the news of my uncle's illness reached me, I felt I had to go to him. He never did me any wrong, and I only hesitated because I did not know whether I'd be welcome here. Like my cousin Nicholas I did not want to inflict my presence on a dying man who had no means of escaping it."

"That was very considerate," Rosalind said.

"Oh, I can be considerate if the occasion calls for it," Mr. Irving said with a grin, and then took Rosalind back to the strawberry beds. Her sisters were still there, talking to Mr. Murray. Miranda, especially, seemed to drink in every word he said.

"Where have you been, Rosie?" Beatrice wanted to know.

"Oh, I just needed to ask Miss Acton something," Mr. Irving said.

Rosalind realised that he did not wish to divulge the topic of their conversation, and simply said, "I do hope your idea will work and your uncle will soon feel better."

Mr. Irving gave her a grateful look, and then helped her to fill her basket with strawberries.

That night, Rosalind lay awake, thinking of what Mr. Irving had told her. If his father had indeed been such a libertine, it was small wonder that he had committed some dreadful mistakes in his youth. She remembered the Mr. Irving she had met in London, and the Mr. Irving she knew now, and compared them. One thing was certain -- the Mr. Irving she knew now was more earnest, and more responsible than his younger self. Perhaps she should not blame him so much, Rosalind thought. After all he had not had a good example in his father -- in fact, it was rather amazing that he had turned out so responsible after all.

Rosalind decided to try and be friendlier with him. Whatever his faults had been in the past had probably been brought on by his upbringing, and he had changed, after all. Besides, being friendly to people did not hurt.

Part XI

Mrs. Acton was the first hostess in Rampton to invite Mr. Murray when he finally moved to the Manor House. Mr. Deane had invited him to stay in there, and Mr. Murray had been quick to accept the invitation.

Three days after his arrival at Rampton Manor, Mr. Irving and his cousin were to dine at the Rectory. Mrs. Acton, always at pains to ensure an entertaining evening for her guests, had also invited the Wilcoxes and Delaneys. Rosalind was not sure the Delaneys would be entertaining; in fact she suspected they'd be a nuisance instead. Unfortunately one could not invite the Wilcoxes and exclude their guests. Rosalind was certain it would be a horrible evening. Therefore she was not feeling very enthusiastic when she dressed for her mother's dinner party. Her sisters, however, were.

Rosalind could hear them giggle and whisper while they got ready, Miranda teasing Beatrice about Mr. Wilcox and Beatrice getting her own back by mentioning Miranda's obvious liking for Mr. Murray.

The Wilcoxes and the Delaneys were the first guests to arrive. Mr. Wilcox immediately sat down on the sofa next to Beatrice -- a fact that annoyed Miss Delaney, who had been hanging on his arm when they had entered the parlour. Rosalind wondered whether Miss Delaney had ever been anything else than annoyed. She did not look like it -- her mouth seemed to be in a permanent pout, and there was a sullen look in her eyes at all times. Rosalind did not doubt that Miss Delaney, had she got rid of her surly manner, would have been very pretty. But it was probably too much to ask of a woman who thought every moment in which she was not the centre of attention was a waste of time.

Seeing that Mr. Wilcox was otherwise engaged, Miss Delaney immediately set her sights on William -- until Mr. Irving and Mr. Murray arrived. From that moment on William might as well not have been there. She went to the newcomers with a brilliant smile.

"Mr. Murray! What a pleasant surprise! I did not expect to see you here. What made you come to this godforsaken place?"

"Godforsaken, Miss Delaney? This is Warwickshire, not the desert. Besides, you can have no doubt regarding my reason to come here. I had to see my cousin."

"And you did not expect to find us here, I suppose."

"Not at all, Miss Delaney. It was a surprise, certainly. My cousin did not tell me."

Mr. Irving smiled, and Rosalind suspected that he had refrained from telling his cousin on purpose. Perhaps he had felt that he did not want to deal with Miss Delaney by himself. She supposed that Mr. Murray, confronted with the news upon his arrival, would immediately have turned back. It was what she would have done, had she had any choice in the matter.

After having thanked his hostess for the invitation, Mr. Irving turned to Rosalind.

"You have not come to see my uncle today," he said.

"No, I was obliged to go and see Mrs. Smith again," Rosalind said. "It seems she is not at all well at the moment, and her husband's grandmother cannot help her at all. The poor woman, with all those children of hers! It weighs heavily on her mind, too, especially since she is worried that not all is well with her this time."

"I did not know you also acted as a midwife," Mr. Irving said.

Rosalind laughed. "I do not," she said. "But I know one or two remedies to make things easier for her. -- I hope Mr. Deane did not miss me. I did send him a message."

"He got the message, but he still missed you," Mr. Irving said. "We have grown to quite depend on you."

"I am sorry," Rosalind said. "But I thought my father had come to keep him company. He did promise to do so."

"Oh, he was there, but it was just not the same," Mr. Irving said with a smile. "Or so my uncle said."

Miss Delaney could not bear it that Mr. Irving should pay attention to another woman. Rosalind was just beginning to say something to him when Miss Delaney interrupted her.

"You did not tell me you expected Mr. Murray to come for a visit," she said sweetly.

"I did not expect him," Mr. Irving said. "He surprised me."

"No doubt a pleasant surprise," Miss Delaney said with a false smile.

"Very pleasant. Life here will get more interesting now that he is here."

"Was it not interesting before?" Miss Delaney said, pouting. Mr. Irving did not do her the favour to disagree.

"I confess I was often bored," he said. "Though I have to say I was not when I was visiting the Rectory. I like your family, Miss Acton."

"They'll be pleased to hear it," Rosalind said. "Now if you will excuse me, my mother needs me."

With a nod, Rosalind left Mr. Irving and Miss Delaney behind. She had to admit that Mr. Irving had behaved very gentlemanly, and she would not have minded speaking to him some more, but Miss Delaney was intolerable when he was around, and Rosalind did not want to put up with Miss Delaney's ill-temper. Had Miss Delaney not been her mother's guest, Rosalind would have ignored her altogether. Unfortunately, Miss Delaney was a guest in her house, and had to be treated as such.

Mrs. Acton was sitting with Lady Wilcox, and was talking about Lady Wilcox's projected ball. When Lady Wilcox saw Rosalind, she beckoned her and asked her to sit down next to her. Rosalind did as Lady Wilcox had asked her, and for a quarter of an hour she listened to Lady Wilcox's plans for her ball. Apparently, it was to be a grand occasion. Lady Wilcox was planning to use the Long Gallery at Effingham Court as a ballroom, her husband's library as a card-room, and was going to serve supper in the dining-room.

"I am not really sure what supper is going to consist of, but my cook has already made some suggestions that made my mouth water," Lady Wilcox said. "I can trust Cook to rise to the occasion, certainly."

"No doubt, ma'am," Rosalind said. "I must say that the dinners at Effingham Court are about the best one can get in this part of the country."

"Oh, you flatter me," Lady Wilcox said. "It is kind of you to say so when your mother is one of the best hostesses around!"

It was now time for Mrs. Acton to protest, and at that point the maid came in and announced that dinner was served.

Mr. Murray took Rosalind in to dinner, and was also seated next to her. Rosalind decided he was a pleasant young man -- he was an excellent conversationalist and seemed intelligent. He was funny too, and made her laugh more than once. Miranda gave her sister an envious look, and continued trying to make Mr. Wilcox talk.

At least, Rosalind noticed, Mr. Wilcox was not quite as reticent as usual. He really tried to converse with Beatrice, and since Beatrice was inclined to encourage him he probably talked more than usual. In other words, things were progressing well, Rosalind thought. Mr. Murray saw her content smile as she looked at her sister and Mr. Wilcox and said, "Your sister seems well-entertained, Miss Acton."

"It certainly looks like it," she said with a smile. "I am glad it is so."

"My cousin told me you looked after his uncle," Mr. Murray finally said.

"I am trying to, at least," Rosalind said with a smile. "But I must give credit where credit is due. Mr. Deane's valet is the one who mainly looks after him. I merely come to see him and read to him if he is bored. I do not exactly call that looking after someone."

"Well, I do," Mr. Murray said. "An invalid's spirits must be looked after as well as his body."

"Probably," Rosalind said. "Let us say then that I try to cheer him up whenever I can."

"A laudable object," Mr. Murray said.

Miranda did not seem to relish Mr. Murray complimenting her sister, and began to take part in their conversation. Rosalind noticed Mrs. Delaney's censorious look on her youngest sister, but did not mind that Miranda was talking to them across the table. Her parents had never insisted on formality at the dinner table, and to be honest it was much more amusing to have a lively conversation in which all of their guests could take part if they wanted. She did know, of course, that there were people who'd consider such behaviour vulgar (and Mrs. Delaney was of that order), but she did not mind. In her parents' house things were as her parents thought they should be, and no one else's opinion mattered. In her own home Mrs. Delaney could have things as she liked them.

Later, when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the parlour, Mrs. Acton suggested a game of Speculation to her young guests, and Mr. Irving, who was certainly used to different sorts of entertainment, immediately complied. So did Rosalind's brothers and sisters, and Mr. Murray saw no reason why he should not join in. Rosalind went to get the cards, and on turning the corner to the stairs she ran into Polly, the housemaid. Unfortunately Polly was carrying a tray of empty glasses from the study, and dropped the tray when Rosalind bumped into her. They were lucky -- only three of the glasses were broken, the rest of them had dropped onto the carpet and were not damaged.

"I'm sorry, Miss," Polly said. "I didn't see you!"

"It was my fault, Polly," Rosalind said. "I did not look. I should have known you were busy clearing the tables."

"What will Mrs. Acton say when she finds out the glasses are broken?" Polly lamented.

"Never mind, Polly," Rosalind said. "It was my fault and I will tell my mother so."

She got the cards and went back into the parlour, where the young set -- except Miss Delaney -- had sat down at the table and were chatting happily. Rosalind gave them the cards, asked them to wait for a moment and went over to her mother to inform her of the broken glasses.

Mrs. Acton was sitting with Mrs. Delaney and Lady Wilcox, and calmly listened to what Rosalind had to say. Unfortunately, Mrs. Delaney overheard and decided Mrs. Acton needed to hear her opinion of the matter.

"What a clumsy girl!" she exclaimed. Rosalind thought it was her duty to defend Polly -- after all the damage had not been her fault.

"She is not clumsy at all," she said. "I ran into her -- she had no chance to prevent it, and she has never broken anything before. Has she, Mama?"

Mrs. Acton admitted that Polly did indeed treat her employers' possessions with great care, and was not in the habit of breaking crockery.

"Well, but if I were you, Mrs. Acton, I would make her pay for the damage," Mrs. Delaney said. "That will teach her to be more careful. One of my maids broke some valuable glasses once, and I made her pay every penny they were worth."

"Indeed?" Mrs. Acton asked. "Was she able to pay for them then?"

"I kept her wages until she had done so," Mrs. Delaney chuckled. "She had to work for free for one and a half years."

Mrs. Acton was visibly shocked, and so was Rosalind. The thought of the poor servant girl who had had to work without wages just because she had broken some glasses made her furious, and before she could stop herself she said, "I do hope for you, Mrs. Delaney, that your maids often break valuable things, so you do not have to pay them."

"Rosalind!" Mrs. Acton exclaimed.

"What, Mama?" Rosalind asked coldly. "Surely Mrs. Delaney knows that I wish her well?"

She decided she was so angry that she could not sit with the rest of the party and play cards. They'd see how upset she was, and their evening would be spoilt. So she left the room, and went outside into the Rectory garden.

It was a warm evening, and Rosalind sat down on the stone bench under the apple tree. The sun was long gone, but it was only just getting dark. Slowly but surely Rosalind calmed herself. She told herself that she had just been so upset because she had disliked the Delaneys from the beginning, and had been looking for an opportunity to show them what her opinion of them was.

She was just wondering whether she should get back into the house when the side door opened and Mr. Irving came towards her.

"Miss Acton! Why did you leave us?" he asked.

"It was so stifling in the parlour," Rosalind lied. "I needed to go out and get some air."

"And my mother's dear friend Mrs. Delaney had nothing to do with it?" Mr. Irving asked. Rosalind detected a great deal of sarcasm in the words dear friend.

"No," Rosalind said. Mr. Irving sighed and sat down next to her.

"Miss Acton," he said, "I did realise that there was some kind of argument going on. It is none of my business, I suppose, but I wish you'd tell me what upsets you so."

"What upsets me most is that Mrs. Delaney finally managed to provoke me into being uncivil to her," Rosalind said. "I know I should not have talked to her the way I did, and that I have no right to criticise a woman who is so much older than me, no matter what my private opinion of her might be." She sighed.

"Mrs. Delaney can try the patience of an angel though," he said. "What did she do to provoke you?"

"She told us that when one of her maids had broken some glasses she made her work for free until the glasses were paid for," Rosalind said. "And I thought it was a beastly thing to do -- to cheat a housemaid out of her wages if she could well afford to buy dozens of glasses if she cared to. Still, she looked so smug that I had to say something. Such behaviour is nothing to be proud of, in my opinion."

"You are absolutely right, Miss Acton," he said. "Unless, of course, the girl had broken the glasses on purpose."

"I wouldn't blame her if she had done so, considering for whom she works. But even then one could find another way," Rosalind said. "She could have dismissed the girl, or she could have made her do some extra work to pay her debt. But she knew that with no wages the girl had no chance to leave her -- and mistreating one's servants is something I do not hold with."

"Nor do I," Mr. Irving said. "I must admit you were right about the things you said. -- By the way, am I mistaken or have you for once refrained from biting my head off when I tried to talk to you?"

Rosalind laughed. "I do not bite people's heads off," she said.

"Oh yes, you did so with me at any rate."

"I can still do so if it makes you feel better," Rosalind joked. "Anything to make our guests feel comfortable"

"No, I must say I prefer your present frame of mind," Mr. Irving said with a smile. "I hope you will stick to it."

"We'll see," Rosalind said and got up. "I suppose I had better go back inside," she said.

"Absolutely," Mr. Irving said. "Your sisters said you were the best Speculation player in your family."

"Oh, no," Rosalind said. "My father is the family champion, but he rarely plays with us. He says playing cards is no fitting activity for a clergyman."

"I would not object if he joined in," Mr. Irving said. "But he seems busy entertaining Sir Leonard and Lady Wilcox."

They went back into the parlour, and Rosalind sat down at the card table next to Mr. Irving. Her sisters welcomed her cheerfully, and they started to play. When Rosalind was not busy checking her cards or bidding for a card, she looked over to the sofa where Mrs. and Miss Delaney were sitting. Miss Delaney glared at her, while Mrs. Delaney chose to ignore her. Rosalind did not blame either of them -- what she had said to Mrs. Delaney had not been nice. She did realise, however, that he had made a pair of enemies that evening.

The Delaneys were the first ones who wanted to leave and therefore broke up the party. Lady Wilcox, always the obliging hostess, ordered her carriage, and took her leave of the Actons. So did Mrs. and Miss Delaney, though their leave-taking was of a decidedly frigid nature.

Mr. Murray and Mr. Irving stayed for a bit longer, but they too went home soon after the Effingham Court party had left.

Mr. Irving gave Rosalind an encouraging wink before he walked out of the door, and Rosalind sighed. Her evening was not over yet, she realised. Both her parents would want to have a word with her because of her behaviour towards Mrs. Delaney, and she did not look forward to the conversation.

Part XII

Rosalind expected a tremendous scold, but it did not come. Although her mother expressed her disappointment at her daughter's ill-bred conduct, she admitted that provocation had been great. Mr. Acton did not take part in the discussion at all -- he merely declared that Mrs. Delaney had well deserved the set-down Rosalind had given her, and upon his wife's protest he remained quiet. In the end, Mrs. Acton told her daughter to call on Mrs. Delaney the next day, and to apologise. After Rosalind had performed that task -- which was quite as distasteful to Mrs. Delaney as it was to her -- the matter was not mentioned again.

Mr. Deane's health had improved a little, but he was still unable to leave his bed, and Rosalind feared that another stroke was more than likely, and might well carry him off. Mr. Bates, Mr. Deane's physician, shared her opinion. The least bit of excitement, he thought, might lead to Mr. Deane's demise.

Rosalind had to admit that Mr. Irving was taking good care of his uncle. She often found him sitting with his uncle when she arrived at the Manor House, and sometimes even stayed after she had arrived. Mr. Deane, it seemed, was very fond of his great-nephew. It was no wonder, Rosalind thought. Mr. Irving never failed to cheer him up. Whatever his faults might be, Mr. Irving was a model nephew.

Lady Wilcox's ball was the main topic of discussion in Rampton at the moment. The day was approaching fast, and the local ladies could talk of nothing else. Rosalind felt guilty for taking so much interest in such a trivial affair when her friend Mr. Deane was in all likelihood going to die soon, but then she felt that Mr. Deane would certainly not expect her to forego any pleasures for his sake. He had never been the sort who had grudged her anything, on the contrary. One morning he surprised her by writing on his slate, You at Lady Wilcox's ball?

"Who told you about the ball, sir?" Rosalind asked.

Frederick.

It took Rosalind a moment to realise that Mr. Irving's first name was Frederick. So he had told his uncle about the ball, but why he should have done so was a mystery to her. It was unlikely to interest Mr. Deane, after all.

"What did Mr. Irving say about Lady Wilcox's ball?" she asked.

He'll be there.

"I suppose so," Rosalind said with a smile. "Lady Wilcox must have invited every gentleman twenty miles around."

You too?

Rosalind laughed. "I am not a gentleman, sir, but yes, I have been invited."

Mr. Deane smiled.

Will do you good, he wrote. No use locking yourself up.

"I have never locked myself up," Rosalind said indignantly.

You have.

"I haven't. I have always visited the Wilcoxes, and you."

Old men don't count. Mr. Deane smiled again while he scribbled, You need friends your own age.

"We had better not discuss the matter," Rosalind said resolutely. "It will only upset you and make you ill."

Mr. Deane grinned, and pointed at the book on his bedside table. Rosalind took the hint, and started to read to him. She had done so for about a quarter of an hour when Mr. Irving came into the room. He greeted his uncle and Rosalind, and upon his uncle's demand to know where he had been, he informed him that he had accompanied his cousin on a ride.

Where did you go? Mr. Deane asked.

"To Effingham Court. Martin Wilcox wanted us to come and see his new pair of horses."

Good ones?

"Oh, certainly. Mr. Wilcox seems to be an excellent judge when it comes to horseflesh."

Lady Wilcox busy?

"Very." Mr. Irving laughed. "She has guests to look after, and to prepare a ball."

Dance with Rosalind.

"What, here and now?" Mr. Irving asked, giving his uncle a puzzled look.

At the ball.

Mr. Irving smiled. "I am going to do so," he said. Rosalind gave him a furious look.
"And it is no use glaring at me like this, Miss Acton. You can see it is Uncle Francis' wish, and I do not want to upset him, so dance with you I shall. "

"Thank you, sir." Rosalind said coldly. "Most obliging of you, I am sure."

"You see, Uncle?" Mr. Irving said. "Miss Acton does not really want to dance with me."

Of course not. Question not flattering.

"I daresay it was not," Mr. Irving said. "But the point is that Miss Acton would not dance with me at all if she had a choice."

He gave Rosalind a challenging look. "Or would you?"

"Certainly not," Rosalind said. "But I will do so, for Mr. Deane's sake. And now, gentlemen, I must take my leave. Good bye."

She left the Manor House, seething with anger. Who did Mr. Irving think he was? Had it not been for Mr. Deane, she would have given him a set-down from which it might have taken him ages to recover. What made him think she'd dance with him? He had not even asked her, he had simply assumed that she'd accept his invitation. It made Rosalind almost consider not dancing at all at Lady Wilcox's ball, but on the other hand why should she spoil her evening just because of Mr. Irving's highhandedness? There was, of course, the slight chance that Mr. Irving might not be inclined to dance that evening, but Rosalind did not depend on it -- and it was no use to pray for it either. Considering the effects of her earlier prayers regarding that gentleman she had better refrain from doing so. Unless she asked for the opposite of what she really wanted, but since the Lord was without doubt well aware of her real intentions she did not think that such methods would work.

---

That evening Mr. Acton announced that he had received an invitation -- a summons, rather -- from his mother in Stratford. In her letter, old Mrs. Acton complained that she had not set eyes on any of her grandchildren for more than a year, and that she wished her granddaughters to come and stay with her for two or three weeks. Rosalind's grandmother often issued such invitations, for she was fond of company and was feeling rather lonely since her husband's death, and despite her close proximity to her eldest son and his family. Still, when Mr. Acton had invited her to come and live with his family in Rampton she had declined. After all, she said, all her friends were living in Stratford, and besides she could not imagine not being the mistress of the house she lived in, after having been mistress of her own household for so many years. Therefore, she said, she would stay where she was and only expected regular visits from her children and their families.

"When are we to go?" Beatrice asked anxiously.

Mr. Acton grinned, realising why his daughter had asked. "Two days after Lady Wilcox's ball," he said. "Aren't you glad?"

"Papa!" Beatrice exclaimed indignantly, and Mr. Acton laughed. "You are easy to read, my dear," he said.

"I am looking forward to visiting her," Miranda said.

"So would I," said Richard, the youngest of Rosalind's brothers eagerly. "Just think of Grandmama's apple pie! Did she invite us too, or just the girls?"

This greatly amused his father, and when he laughed Richard exclaimed indignantly, "Don't laugh! Even you said that Grandmama's apple pie was worth the journey to Stratford!"

"So I did," Mr. Acton said gravely. "I am sorry, Richard."

The invitation put Mrs. Acton and her daughters into a flutter of activity. They had to prepare for Lady Wilcox's ball and pack their trunks for their journey to Stratford. Both were matters of some importance. They were to wear their new evening dresses to the ball, of course, but on the other hand they knew that their grandmother would take them to parties in Stratford as well, and hoped that it would be possible to clean the ball dresses and take them to Stratford the next day. If they were not so clumsy as to spill wine or gravy on them, it might work, Rosalind thought.

---

They were so busy that the day of the ball approached quickly. Sooner than she had expected Rosalind found herself sitting in her mother's room, having her hair done by Polly. Her sisters, who were waiting for their turn, sat on their mother's bed and commented on everything Polly did. They agreed on one point, however -- Rosalind was looking prettier than she had for a while. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Rosalind had to admit that they were right. She might not be able to compare to Miss Delaney's lovely face, but knowing Miss Delaney for what she was Rosalind did not worry about that. Her character, she knew, was vastly superior to Miss Delaney's. For a moment she was worried about that streak of conceit in her, but then Rosalind decided that stating facts had nothing at all to do with vanity.

At Effingham Court, Lady Wilcox had just welcomed the Actons when Mr. Trent approached Rosalind and asked her to dance the first two dances with him. Rosalind accepted, though she had hoped not to see too much of him that evening. At least he had kept away from her home for a couple of days, so there was a chance that he was not thinking of declaring himself just yet. Still, one never knew with men like Mr. Trent.

Five minutes after Mr. Trent had left Rosalind, Mr. Irving arrived, and as soon as he had thanked the hostess for the invitation and greeted several friends, he came to Rosalind and asked her to dance the first two dances with him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Irving, but I have already promised those dances to Mr. Trent," Rosalind said.

"In that case, Miss Acton, would you dance the last two dances before supper with me?"

"Certainly, sir," Rosalind replied.

"Would you even allow me to take you in to supper?" Mr. Irving asked. This was not quite what Rosalind had wanted, but she remembered her resolve to be friendlier with him and told him that she certainly allowed him to do so. He seemed to realise that her permission was a grudging one, but he did not appear to mind. On the contrary, if Rosalind was any judge it amused him.
He then went to Beatrice to ask her for the first two dances -- knowing that Martin Wilcox was in all probability obliged to dance those two with Miss Delaney. Beatrice was delighted, and when the dancing began she was eager to take her place in the set.

Rosalind was not at all keen to dance, mainly because she knew that Mr. Trent would interpret her willingness to dance with him as some sort of encouragement -- and Rosalind did not mean to encourage him. Indeed, when she had not seen him for several days she had hoped he had given up on her. It was not so, apparently.

"I have had news from Staffordshire," he said when the music had started.

"Indeed? Good news, I hope," Rosalind said civilly.

"My uncle has written that Mr. Hopkins, the vicar in his parish, means to retire. I may be in possession of the living before long," Mr. Trent said.

"I am sure you are looking forward to going to Staffordshire," Rosalind said.

"I am looking forward to it in a way," Mr. Trent admitted. "But there is one reason for me to wish I could stay."

He had said this in a voice that warned Rosalind -- she could even imagine his answer, had she asked him what reason that was. She did not, however, thereby disappointing him.

"You do not want to know my reason for wishing to stay here?" he asked, when the movements of the dance brought them together again.

Rosalind smiled. "I do not pry into other people's private matters, sir. If you wish to tell me you may do so, but I will not urge you to confide in me."

The dance separated them again, and when Mr. Trent had the chance to talk to her again, he said, "I suppose you are right, Miss Acton. I ought not to speak. Not here. This is not the right place to make my feelings known to you."

He could not have made his intentions any clearer to her, and Rosalind felt considerable alarm upon hearing this. She only hoped he did not have the time to drive to Rampton the next day, and to demand an interview with her. That way, she'd have a reprieve until she returned from her visit to her grandmother. A lot could happen in three weeks, she thought. She was profoundly relieved when the second dance ended and Mr. Trent accompanied her back to where her mother was sitting.

Her next dancing partner, Mr. Murray, was unlikely to alarm her by addressing himself to her with lover-like ardour, or by hinting at having intentions that did not at all coincide with her own. It was more agreeable to be dancing with someone who had no interest whatsoever in her, Rosalind thought. That way she did not have to watch what she said, wondering whether her partner might see encouragement where there was none intended. Mr. Wilcox, who took Mr. Murray's place after those two dances, was an agreeable partner too. Though he did not talk much, he was a good dancer, and Rosalind was quite happy not to be obliged to make conversation. It would be different with Mr. Irving, she knew. While thinking of Mr. Irving she realised that the prospect of dancing with him was not as terrible as she had thought at first. In fact, it was something she quite looked forward to. She had danced with Mr. Irving once, and had enjoyed herself. She would not have gone with him, or let him kiss her, had she not found his company agreeable. One had to be fair. Had she not acted the way she had, Mr. Irving would not have been able to kiss her, and since Rosalind was not going to give him another chance she did not need to worry. Knowing him for what he was, Rosalind could deal with him without being in danger of repeating the mistake she had made when they had first met.

Rosalind met her sisters and Miss Wilcox when Mr. Wilcox took her back to her mother, and they stood there talking for a while. Miss Wilcox told them how Miss Delaney had prepared for the ball, and what everyone, including herself, had suffered at her hands.

"She spilled her wine all over the front of my best ball dress," Miss Wilcox said darkly. "On purpose, I am sure. She said she was sorry, but I am certain she only did it because she could not bear me to be prettier than she is."

"So what did you do then?" Miranda asked her.

"Changed my dress, of course," Miss Wilcox said. "I'll get even with her, I swear."

"She is over there," Miranda said helpfully. "Get a glass of red wine and off you go."

Miss Wilcox laughed. "No, I'll use a different trick," she said. "It won't do to make her think I am not clever enough to make plans of my own."

"If you need my help, just ask," Miranda said. "It will be a pleasure."

"I thought you were going to visit your grandmother tomorrow?" Miss Wilcox said.

"Not tomorrow. The day after that," Miranda said.

"I will try to think of something," Miss Wilcox said with a mischievous smile.

That moment, Mr. Irving and Mr. Murray approached them to claim their dancing partners, and so the discussion of how to avenge oneself on Miss Delaney had to cease for a while. Rosalind only hoped Miss Wilcox and Miranda did not go too far. Though she felt Miss Delaney deserved to be punished if she had indeed stained Miss Wilcox's dress on purpose, she was afraid the girls' revenge might be over the top.

"You look anxious, Miss Acton," Mr. Irving said as he led her to the set. "I hope I have done nothing to make you feel uneasy."

"Oh, no," Rosalind said with a little laugh. "It was something my sister Miranda said that made me feel slightly nervous, but it does not bother me any longer."

"Good. I was afraid you might dislike the notion of dancing with me."

"You can be sure that I would have thought of some excuse for not dancing with you, had I disliked the notion so very much," Rosalind replied.

"This sounds almost complimentary," Mr. Irving said with a grin.

"Almost, sir." Rosalind said laughingly.

"But I told you what I was planning for tonight," Mr. Irving said. "I am taking the task very seriously, believe me."

"What task, sir?"

"I wanted to prove that I do not usually behave the way I did when we met in London," Mr. Irving said. "I told you so in Kenilworth."

"Oh, you have not behaved so very differently so far," Rosalind said lightly. "You did ask me to dance with you that evening."

"I hope there was nothing wrong with that."

"Oh no," Rosalind said. "It is perfectly respectable."

During the dance, they did not have much time to speak to each other, but when Mr. Irving took her in to supper Rosalind caught herself playing along with Mr. Irving's flirtatious behaviour. He could make himself very agreeable if he chose, but that was nothing new to Rosalind. He had done so before, after all.

When Rosalind had finished her supper, Mr. Irving offered her his arm to take her back to her mother, who was sitting with Lady Wilcox at the moment. On their way they passed the French windows leading out into the garden. Mr. Irving stopped.

"Would you care to come outside with me for a moment?" he asked.

Rosalind hesitated. There were some couples on the terrace outside, but that did nothing to reassure her. Mr. Irving might wish to leave the terrace and walk into the garden, something that she did not want to do. Her reputation had escaped ruin once. It would not do to try fate.

"Onto the terrace?" she asked, with a great deal of suspicion in her voice.

Mr. Irving recognised the tone, and said, "The terrace. You need not worry, Miss Acton. I said I was going to behave properly tonight."

"Very well," Rosalind said. "But only for five minutes. Young Mr. Bates has asked me to dance with him, and I do not want to snub him."

"Lucky fellow." Mr. Irving smiled. "You do not seem to have any problems with snubbing me."

"You forget, sir, that I have every reason to be cautious when I am in your company," Rosalind said.

Mr. Irving shook his head. "No, I do not forget," he said. "You keep reminding me, Miss Acton."

Rosalind did not choose to answer that remark. She went outside, stopped at the balustrade and looked up at the stars. Mr. Irving followed her, took his place next to her and for a while none of them spoke. He was very close to her, but to her surprise Rosalind did not mind. In fact, she realised that the feeling of having him so close by was very pleasant. So pleasant that it was disturbing.

"It must seem strange to you that I still worry about what happened in London," she said quietly.

"In a way it does," Mr. Irving said. "Your mistake was not as bad as you think, and besides it was my fault. You did not know much about Town life, did you?"

"And even less about men," Rosalind said with a smile.

He nodded. "I thought as much," he said.

"I never told anyone about what happened," Rosalind said. "I feared if I did tell people, they'd think I was fast, and I am not. I have never been. My reputation would have been ruined, and I did not want to suffer the consequences of this stupid mistake for the rest of my life, do you understand that?"

"Perfectly," Mr. Irving said. "I feel the same way about this matter."

Rosalind gave him an alarmed look. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Nothing," Mr. Irving said lightly. "Let us go inside. We do not want to snub young Mr. Bates, after all."

©2006 Copyright held by the author.

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