Starting Over

Part XXI

Mrs. Irving lost no time in finding her place in Rampton. She strictly observed the customs of mourning, which Rosalind found rather insincere, considering that Mrs. Irving had refused to come near her uncle while he had still been alive. Rosalind was not the only resident of the village to think so, either, but since Mr. Irving was very popular among the people in Rampton they treated his mother with becoming civility, no matter what their opinion of her might be.

Even the most impartial of observers, however, could not help but notice that mother and son were not on the best of possible terms. It soon became known that Mrs. Irving wished to make some alterations to the Manor House, but that her son had expressly forbidden her to do so. Those villagers whose relatives were employed at the Manor House in some function or other were able to furnish their friends with some more details -- apparently, Mrs. Irving took exception to most of the furnishings, which she found unfashionable as well as inconvenient, and had furthermore suggested tearing down the oldest wing of the house and building a modern one in its place, for "how anyone could live in such a rabbit-warren was a mystery to her". Her son had immediately vetoed these plans, saying that he was well-pleased with the house as it was and that he was not going to make any changes whatsoever.

A week after Mrs. Irving's arrival in Rampton, the Actons received a note from her, inviting them to pick apples in the Manor orchard, as had been their custom every year during Mr. Deane's lifetime. Mrs. Acton had not expected an invitation now that Mr. Deane was dead, but was pleased to see that Mr. Irving was eager to keep up the traditions his great-uncle had started. To her, it was obvious that he had been the driving power behind this invitation -- for some reason or other Mrs. Irving had taken Mrs. Acton and her family in dislike, though Mrs. Acton could not think of a reasonable cause for her hostility. By the end of their apple-picking expedition, though, Mrs. Acton had a fair idea of how this had come about. Mr. Irving had shown her eldest daughter such marked attentions that one would have had to be blind not to notice what was in the wind. Glad though she was that Rosalind had attracted such an eligible suitor, she was worried about Mrs. Irving's evident opposition to the match.

"Rosie," she said when they returned to the Rectory, carrying several baskets full of apples, "I need to have a word with you. Will you come to my room with me?"

Being ordered to Mama's room was never a good sign, and so both Rosalind's sisters gave her compassionate looks as she followed her mother upstairs.

"Close the door behind you, my dear," Mrs. Acton said and waited until Rosalind had done so.

"Is anything the matter, Mama?" Rosalind asked her mother, though she had a faint idea of what they were going to talk about. She had noticed her mother's watchful eyes on her and Mr. Irving on more than one occasion during the afternoon, and was well able to add two and two.

"I do not know," Mrs. Acton said. "Is there?"

"As soon as you tell me what it is you wish to know, Mama, I will tell you," Rosalind said with a smile.

"Mr. Irving," Mrs. Acton prompted. Rosalind sighed.

"Mr. Irving," she repeated. "Well, he appears to be very fond of me."

"How ... fond ... exactly?" Mrs. Acton asked sharply.

"He more or less asked me to marry him," Rosalind explained. "That is to say he did not exactly ask me, he just wanted to know whether I'd dislike it if he did ask me, once he had Papa's approval -- and his mother's."

For a moment, Rosalind considered fully confiding in her mother, but decided against it. If Mrs. Acton found out that Rosalind had met Mr. Irving before he had come to Rampton, and that he had behaved in a not at all gentlemanlike manner towards her, she was unlikely to approve of the match. Once they were married, Rosalind thought, it would not matter when she and Mr. Irving had shared their first kiss. Perhaps Rosalind would be able to confide in her parents then.

"I do not think he has spoken to your father yet," Mrs. Acton remarked. "I am sure he would have told me if Mr. Irving had taken him into his confidence."

"He might wish to gain his mother's consent first," Rosalind said quietly. "Mrs. Irving seems to dislike the notion very much -- from what I gather, her plans for her son were somewhat different."

"Miss Delaney," Mrs. Acton said. Rosalind nodded.

"It may take some convincing in that quarter, Mama."

Mrs. Acton laughed. "If Mr. Irving is not able to change his mother's mind within another week or two, I will be grossly mistaken."

She had merely said so to allay her daughter's apprehensions, but was far from confident herself. Still, Rosalind appeared to believe that Mr. Irving's powers of persuasion would be sufficient to twist his mother round his little finger, and for her sake Mrs. Acton hoped it would be so.

Two days later, Rosalind encountered Mr. Irving on her way back from the Smiths. She had visited them with some of her herbal medicines after hearing that both old and young Mrs. Smith were feeling very poorly, and the children running wild with no one to look after them. She had spent an arduous afternoon at Tom Smith's cottage, tending to the sick and teaching the elder children to do some household chores. She had ended up bathing the whole brood, and preparing dinner for when the master of the house and his two eldest sons would return from the fields. Needless to say, she was exhausted and not looking her best when she walked along the road towards Rampton. She had taken off her bonnet, and both her hair and gown were a mess. Just as she was considering to take a shortcut across Farmer Yates' fields, a curricle came up to her and a laughing voice said, "You there, girl! Is this the road to Rampton?"

Rosalind looked up at Mr. Irving, her smile answering his. "You should know, sir -- you're coming from that direction," she retorted.

He grinned. "Your father told me you were out on an errand of mercy," he informed her. "You look tired -- I take it you're not averse to making the rest of your journey to Rampton in my curricle?"

"Not at all," Rosalind replied. "It's very kind of you to make the suggestion."

"Can you get in by yourself? Not having my groom with me, I cannot get out to assist you," he said.

"Much as it may astonish you, Mr. Irving, I can get into a carriage without help," Rosalind said.

He reached out his hand to Rosalind and asked her to give him her basket. Having safely stored it on the floor, he pulled her into the curricle and waited until she had settled down beside him.

"If you leave some more space between us, you may well end up sitting in the road," he observed. "I don't bite, you know."

"You may not care for propriety, but I do," Rosalind said. "No doubt you'd prefer me to hang round your neck, sir."

"Oh no - not while I'm driving, at any rate. Though I must say the idea does have its appeal."

Rosalind blushed, admitting to herself that the idea was indeed tempting. Mr. Irving gave her a sidelong glance and smiled.

"Don't worry," he said "I will behave with the greatest propriety, if this is what you wish. -- I had a talk with your father this afternoon."

"Oh!" Suddenly, Rosalind felt quite breathless.

"My intentions did not surprise him very much," he continued. "He seems to have expected me to make you an offer of marriage for quite some time."

"Papa is very observant," Rosalind said. "Too observant, we often thought. He may well have picked up the signs of what was going to happen before we did."

"I can imagine." Mr. Irving gave a short laugh. "Well, once I had his permission to address you I was impatient to do so without any loss of time - this is why I came here in search of you. I realise that the road to Rampton is not the most romantic spot for a proposal, but on the other hand we can talk in private. I am not certain we can do so at the Rectory - your sister Miranda may not be able to curb her curiosity, I suspect."

Rosalind laughed at his exact reading of her youngest sister's character. She, too, suspected Mr. Irving would not be able to propose to her without Miranda making sure she overheard every word.

He stopped the carriage. "Will you marry me, Rosalind, or have you decided that you cannot face the prospect of growing old with me?"

Suddenly, he looked very anxious and vulnerable. Rosalind wished she could say yes, without thinking of the consequences, but there was one matter she knew she must settle before she could give him that promise. Since her own family meant so much to her, she knew she would not be able to go against his family's wishes.

"What about your mother?" she asked. "What does she have to say to the idea? You said you have my father's consent, but do you also have hers?"

"I do have her consent," he said. "But in all honesty I cannot say she is happy about our marriage."

"I was afraid it would be so," Rosalind sighed. "It was quite obvious she had her heart set on a very different match."

"I cannot deny it, but I always told her nothing would come of that dream of hers," he said. "Rosalind, please don't let my mother spoil our happiness. She will come round, once she realises there is nothing she can do to change the situation. Believe me -- I know her."

"Yet she refused to come to your uncle's house because he did not give his consent to her marriage," Rosalind pointed out. "She has no one but you -- and I would feel awful if I were the one to take her only son away from her."

"It would not be your fault if that happened, but hers," Mr. Irving said. "My mother will always be welcome in my house -- if she treats my wife with the respect that is due to her. I told her as much, and she cannot doubt my sincerity in that matter. After all it was she who renounced her entire family in order to marry my father; there must be something the two of us have in common. -- The only objection she can have to my marrying you is that you are not Patience Delaney. There is nothing in your birth, character, or reputation, to justify her opposition, and she is fully aware of that. I told her she'd grow fond of you, once she got to know you better, and she has promised me to make an effort."

"This does not sound very encouraging," Rosalind said doubtfully.

"The fact alone that she means to try is most encouraging, I can tell you," Mr. Irving said. "Trust me on that -- I have known the lady all my life. So what do you say, Rosalind? Leave my mother out of your considerations for a moment -- it is me you will live with once we are married, not my mother. Do you like me well enough to marry me, or not? Please don't make me wait too long for your reply -- you know I love you."

He watched her anxiously as Rosalind thought the matter over once again. Mrs. Irving had promised her son to make an effort to like his chosen bride, and according to him she had been sincere. Rosalind doubted it, but on the other hand what did it matter? Even if Mrs. Irving continued to dislike her, there was no harm she could do her, especially since Mr. Irving had made it clear to his mother that he would not tolerate incivility or unkindness towards his wife. In the end, Mrs. Irving would have no choice but to welcome her into her family with what kindness she could muster.

"Rosalind?" Mr. Irving asked. "You have still not answered my question."

Rosalind turned to him with a smile. "Very well. I will marry you ... Frederick. Or am I supposed to call you Mr. Irving until we are married?"

"Don't you dare," Frederick said, took her hand and kissed it.

That Mrs. Irving had not yet reconciled herself to her son's marriage to a parson's daughter from the wilds of Warwickshire became evident that same evening. Upon hearing that Rosalind had accepted Mr. Irving's offer of marriage, the Actons had invited him, his mother and cousin to dine at the Rectory, to negotiate such details as the wedding-date, bride-clothes, or the wedding-trip.

Rosalind was greatly relieved to find that Mr. Murray, at least, had no objection to the marriage his cousin contemplated. He offered her his heartfelt congratulations and expressed the hope that they would continue to be friends once she was married to Frederick Irving.

"I think you will deal famously together," he said. "If you will permit me to say so, you are exactly the kind of wife my cousin needs. You will make him very happy, I know."

His aunt's congratulations were more temperate, and not quite sincere. Yet Mrs. Irving showed more grace than Rosalind had expected -- she kissed both Rosalind's cheeks, welcomed her to her family and wished her very happy. Seemingly, she was determined not to give her son any reason for complaint. Her strategy was quite different, as Rosalind found out in the course of the evening.

The wedding-date had been set for December -- for, as Frederick had said, he wished to welcome the New Year with Rosalind at his side; a wish that Rosalind had shared. They could not very well get married before that, Mrs. Irving had objected -- Mr. Deane's heir was expected to observe a proper period of mourning, after all -- and she was none too pleased when she heard what date they had agreed on in the end. In her opinion, the date was too soon, and most inconvenient.

"But where are you going to spend your honeymoon if you marry in December?" she protested. "No one is going to be in London during the Christmas season, and I do not recommend going to the seaside in winter. Even such watering-places as Bath will be as dreary as can be! You cannot be serious, Frederick. I suggest you wait until the spring, and spend your honeymoon in London, presenting your wife to Society there. You know I'll be only too happy to be of assistance!"

"This is very kind of you, Mama, but I still prefer to be married in December," he replied.

"But what about your bride?" Mrs. Irving asked. "Does she not deserve a proper wedding-trip?"

"I ... I do not really care that much for these things," Rosalind intervened.

"But you should, my dear," Mrs. Irving said. "One only gets married once in one's life -- so it should better be done properly."

"You forget we still have three months," Frederick pointed out. "No doubt we will hit on something until then. Rosalind will have a proper wedding-trip, never fear."

"I suppose you could ask my father if he'll let you have his hunting-box for a couple of weeks," Mr. Murray suggested. "I'm sure he would be glad to help. It is in the middle of nowhere, but I daresay a couple of newlyweds won't mind that."

"We'll keep it in mind, Nicholas, thank you," Frederick said. "You see, Mama, there are places we could go."

For the time being, Mrs. Irving said nothing. After a short pause, however, she asked her son, "Where are you going to live, once you are married?"

"Here, I suppose," he replied. "In the Manor House -- or won't we?" He gave Rosalind a questioning look. "Would you prefer to live in Town?"

"Oh no ... no. I am not fond of Town," Rosalind assured him. "I'd love to live in the Manor House, with my family not too far away."

"Not fond of Town?" Mrs. Irving asked, her tone suggesting that she had never heard anything as ridiculous. "Then I take it you will not spend the Season there either?" She turned to her son. "But what about your friends in Town?" she demanded.

"My friends are always welcome to come and see me here," he replied calmly. "Besides I do not think Rosalind said she would not go to London at all. She merely said she did not want to live there, and that suits me very well. I will be very busy here, you know. A wife who is forever hankering after Town amusements would be a nuisance indeed." He turned to Rosalind. "I am not saying you cannot go to London whenever you like, mind you. It is just that since I will have to spend a great deal of time here I am happy to hear that you have no objection to doing so as well."

"Your London friends will think you are ashamed of your wife if you do not present her to them," Mrs. Irving said in a joking tone.

"They will discover their mistake soon enough, Mama, and I am certain you will assist me in correcting their misapprehensions."

"You see, my dear," Mrs. Irving said to Rosalind, "my son has many friends who will expect him to entertain in style."

"I will do my best to live up to their expectations," Rosalind said calmly. She had recognised Mrs. Irving's strategy by now -- seeing that she had not been able to prevent her son's engagement Mrs. Irving now wanted to make Rosalind cry off before the engagement could be announced.

She said so to Frederick later in the evening, when her parents had allowed them some five minutes alone to take leave.

He laughed, and put his arms around her waist. "I noticed," he said. "Will you cry off?"

"I think it will take more than your mother's hints at what is expected of me to make me do that," Rosalind replied. "My mind is made up -- I won't draw back."

"Good girl," Frederick said approvingly, pulled her closer and kissed her.

Part XXI

It did not take long for Rosalind's betrothal to become common knowledge in Rampton. It was generally believed to be an excellent thing. There had been those who had feared that Mr. Irving would leave Warwickshire by the time he had settled his business there. His marriage to a local girl, people thought, would probably make him settle down in the area after all. Since there were a good many people dependent on their positions in the Manor House, that was certainly good news. Had Mr. Irving left, he would probably have dismissed most of the servants. But since everyone in Rampton knew how fond Rosalind Acton was of her home and family, the villagers concluded that Mr. Irving was unlikely to leave.

The congratulations both Rosalind and Frederick received from their neighbours were, therefore, most sincere, and had it not been for her future mother-in-law's coldness towards her Rosalind's happiness would have been complete. She often noticed it when she was in Mrs. Irving's company, although her future mother-in-law's civility towards her left nothing to be desired. Still, it was obvious that Mrs. Irving would have preferred her son to marry the girl she had chosen for him, and she lost no opportunity to point out, in the most amiable way possible, that she thought Rosalind a highly inadequate wife for her son.

This state of affairs almost made Rosalind lose heart, and she was on the brink of calling the wedding off several times. Had it not been for Frederick, who tried to be with her and reassure her whenever he could, she might even have done so. His unfailing optimism could not but have an effect on her, however. Frederick kept telling her that his mother would come round in the end, but not even he could have foreseen the circumstances under which she finally did.

A notice of their engagement had been sent to the Gazette, and had been published accordingly. In consequence of this announcement, both Frederick and his mother received letters of congratulation from family and friends who resided in London; many of them containing requests for further information regarding his bride.

Neither was surprised that the Delaneys offered them no felicitations; they agreed that after having expected an offer of marriage from Frederick for years Miss Delaney might be a trifle put out when learning that he had offered for someone else, and her mother no less so. Still they were shocked when an alarming piece of news reached them by way of Mrs. Murray, Frederick's aunt, who was at the moment staying in London.

In a letter to her sister-in-law, Mrs. Murray wrote that London was abuzz with gossip regarding the future Mrs. Frederick Irving. Speculation was rife concerning her identity; people wondered why she had never been seen in the Metropolis before, and why Mr. Irving did not care to present her to his friends in Town. There were those who thought that perhaps the mysterious Miss Acton was not fit to be seen in London, and, Mrs. Murray wrote,

these rumours are substantiated by some friends of yours, who claim to have met Miss Acton during a stay in Warwickshire and describe her as "an ignorant, ill-mannered country miss, with neither beauty, charm nor elegance to recommend her".

But, according to Mrs. Murray, this description was not the worst of the things that were being said about Rosalind.

I myself have heard Miss Delaney mention, in the sweetest possible manner, that my nephew had no choice but to offer for Miss Acton, considering what had passed between her and his great-uncle. One must pity him, she said, for being obliged to bear the consequences of a sordid affair, but his sense of duty must also command respect, Mrs. Murray wrote.

There are many, naturally, who know that Miss Delaney has been setting her cap at my nephew for years and that she therefore believes to have every reason for hating Miss Acton; yet there are also those who appear to credit Miss Delaney's spiteful lies. Whatever version one chooses to believe, Miss Acton is the talk of the day, and will remain so until some other scandal will hopefully take people's minds off her.

Frederick was furious and tried to keep this piece of news from Rosalind, but she did find out in the end -- the rumours had also reached her own aunt, Mrs. Holbrooke, and that lady lost no time in informing her brother that his daughter was the victim of malicious slander.

Mr. Acton summoned Frederick and his family to the Rectory, and laid the matter before them, upon which occasion Mrs. Irving shared the contents of Mrs. Murray's letter with Rosalind and her family. She appeared to be greatly shocked at Miss Delaney's conduct, and for the first time she seemed to realise that the match she had planned for her son might not have been quite as advantageous as she had thought. It even looked as if she had begun to prefer her son's fiancée to the bride she had chosen for him -- too late, Rosalind thought. There was no way she could marry Frederick now.

"This is a piece of malice I will not tolerate," Mrs. Irving said. "We must make an effort to stop the gossip, and there are a few things I will have to say to Miss Delaney when I meet her again!"

"The damage is done, I am afraid," Rosalind replied, barely able to suppress her tears. "Whatever we do, to people in London I will remain the woman who tricked her lover's great-nephew into marriage to save her reputation."

"This is ridiculous," Frederick cried. Rosalind had never seen him so angry before. "I cannot think of anyone who would be fool enough to believe such an obvious pack of lies. Patience Delaney is known to be a spiteful creature, and this is not the first time she has tried to spread lies about someone she disliked. There won't be many who actually believe her, and if we deny those rumours..."

"There's no point in trying to do that, Frederick," Rosalind interrupted him. "As my future husband you are supposed to defend me, no matter what. Everyone will say so; people won't believe you. Miss Delaney could not have hit on a more certain way to ruin me."

Meanwhile, Rosalind had given up struggling against her tears. Those rumours, she knew, would not only ruin her own chances, but also her sisters'. It was unlikely that Sir Leonard and Lady Wilcox would allow their son to marry a girl whose sister was reputed to have had an affair with a man old enough to be her grandfather, and as for Miranda --

Frederick pulled her into his arms, effectively putting an end to those depressing reflections.

"We'll find a way to deal with this," he whispered to her. "It will be difficult, but for my part I think it's going to be a pleasure to get even with Patience Delaney. Don't give up without putting up a fight, Rosalind, I beg you!"

"You can count on me, whatever it is you are going to do," Mr. Murray said grimly. "This time she has gone much too far. It's about time she learns there are limits to the things she can do, and I have no objection to teaching her that lesson."

"I think," Mrs. Irving suddenly announced, "there is one strategy that might work. We must go to London -- all of us."

"And what do we do once we get there?" Frederick asked sarcastically.

"Present your bride to society, of course." Mrs. Irving smiled. "It will take a great deal of courage and determination on your part, Miss Acton, but this is the only way to stop those scandalmongers."

"What kind of plan do you have in mind, ma'am?" Rosalind had no intention of going into Town, but she thought it was only fair to give Mrs. Irving a chance to explain her idea, if only because she was being uncommonly kind to her at that moment.

"If people find that the Delaneys' description of you was -- shall we say, inaccurate? -- they will begin to have serious doubts concerning the rest of their story," Mrs. Irving explained. "Prove half of their account wrong, and people won't believe the other half either. What do you think? Do you feel up to doing this? You will not have to go without support, my dear -- we will all come with you, won't we?"

"I think this might work," Frederick said while Rosalind was still pondering what Mrs. Irving had said.

"It's very likely that it will," Mr. Murray agreed. "But my aunt is right, Miss Acton - you will need a great deal of courage to pull this off. The first week or two of your stay in London are bound to be pretty uncomfortable." He encountered Frederick's angry stare and said, "There's no use glaring at me, Frederick. You know as well as I do that if Miss Acton agrees to this course of action she's bound to come across some difficulties. It's only fair she should know that. No point in trying to hide the truth from her -- she will find out soon enough."

In the end, Rosalind agreed to Mrs. Irving's plan, but not until her parents had joined the ranks of those who urged her to go to London and prove Miss Delaney wrong. Her father had asked her whether she wanted Miss Delaney to win, and when she had replied in the negative he had informed her that in that case there was only one thing she could do. He had been right, too, Rosalind thought as she arrived at her aunt's house in London. The only thing that bothered her now was that there might be some people who'd recognise her as the girl Frederick had kissed for a wager some years before. She had confessed that fear to Frederick, who had dismissed the idea as highly unlikely.

"And in the case someone should recognise you," he had continued, "we can still deny it. There is more than one parson's daughter in Warwickshire, I've been told."

Noticing that Rosalind was not yet reassured, he added, "If it is any comfort to you, Rosalind, I doubt any of those who knew will remember the episode -- or your identity, if it comes to that. Even I didn't until you more or less confronted me with what I'd done."

Rosalind could only hope that Frederick's assessment was correct. Otherwise, she suspected, this incident would serve as some more evidence of her loose behaviour. Unlike Miss Delaney's stories, this one would even be true.

The first week of Rosalind's stay in London was dedicated to shopping. Mrs. Irving had decreed that her future daughter-in-law was not to make any appearance in society until she was dressed appropriately. Rosalind found that Mrs. Irving had a good eye for colour, and impeccable taste. Together with Mrs. Acton, Mrs. Irving advised Rosalind on her choice of bride-clothes, and turned her from a country bumpkin into a very elegant young lady. Due to the time of year, London was rather thin of company, but Rosalind preferred things to be that way. It was easier to find one's feet in society if one didn't have to face a huge crowd right at the beginning.

Rosalind's first encounter with Miss Delaney took place in Hyde Park one afternoon, a week or so after her arrival. She had gone there with Frederick in his curricle, and he had introduced her to those of his friends and acquaintances they had met on their way. Rosalind was aware of many curious glances directed at her, but none of them appeared to be hostile. On the contrary, those of Frederick's friends they met were very kind to her. Perhaps, she hoped, the rumours concerning her had already died down, or had been replaced by even more sordid ones regarding someone else.

"Look who's over there," Frederick suddenly said, and Rosalind looked into the direction he indicated with his whip. It was Miss Delaney, who was walking with a friend.

"I don't want to talk to her," was Rosalind's initial reaction.

"I know this is difficult for you," Frederick said. "But if you want to convince people that those rumours are wrong, your behaviour must be above suspicion. Everyone will keep an eye on how you deal with Patience Delaney, depend upon it."

"Which means?"

He grinned. "Deal with her as you have always done. You need not pretend she is your best friend, but be kind and civil. There is no better way to make her appear in a very bad light. People know you are aware of the rumours she has spread about you, and they suspect you also know who is at the bottom of the whole affair. There's no better weapon than forgiveness to put someone in the wrong."

"I am almost beginning to be afraid of you," Rosalind joked. "There are some depths in your character I had not suspected."

"And you suspected many, I know," he laughed. "In fact, the idea is not wholly mine. My mother has provided most of it -- and she ought to know how to behave in situations like this, having survived in London's drawing rooms for decades. Which is quite an accomplishment, I can tell you."

In the meantime, they had reached Miss Delaney and Frederick stopped his curricle next to her. He greeted her and her friend with an affability that greatly surprised Rosalind, but she followed suit.

"Miss Delaney," she said, holding out her hand. "What a pleasant surprise! It has been an age since we last met, hasn't it? How is your mama?"

Miss Delaney gave her an insolent stare at first, and then tittered unpleasantly. "Dear me, Miss Acton! I hardly recognised you!" She turned to her friend and said, "One can hardly believe what a difference a new gown and bonnet can make!"

"Exactly so," Rosalind agreed genially, refusing to react to Miss Delaney's insult. "How long have you been staying in London, Miss Delaney?"

"Oh, ever since we returned from Leamington," Miss Delaney replied. "An odious place, I thought. I am glad to be back."

"Indeed? I do hope Mrs. Delaney has derived some benefit from the Leamington waters. I would hate to think that your stay in Warwickshire had been a complete waste of time."

Miss Delaney reddened, but refrained from saying anything in reply. Instead she made a feeble excuse, took her leave and almost dragged her friend along with her.

Rosalind looked up at Frederick. "What do you think?" she asked, smiling.

Frederick's smile told Rosalind that he was proud of her. "I think you have made a good start, my love."

It was not to be expected that Miss Delaney would stop her campaign any time soon. But Mrs. Irving turned out to be right -- the more people in London saw of Rosalind, the fewer of them credited Miss Delaney's spiteful gossip. Instead of ruining Rosalind's chances, as had been her intention, she spoilt her own. While Rosalind received countless invitations to balls, soirees and private concerts, Miss Delaney got less and less.

It was generally agreed upon that Miss Acton was a very modest, well-behaved girl, dressed with taste and elegance, and that she had a lot of common sense. She might not be a dazzling Beauty, but her looks were pleasing enough, and there were several young gentlemen deploring the fact that she had not come to Town before her betrothal to Frederick Irving, for they would almost certainly have tried to cut him out. No one remembered having met Rosalind during her previous visit to London.

Whenever she encountered Miss Delaney in public, Rosalind noticed that everyone's eyes were on them, and took great care to be as civil and pleasant as she could. This was noted with approval, for Society abhorred vulgarity, and nothing could be more vulgar than conducting one's quarrels in public. The ungracious way in which Miss Delaney received Miss Acton's courteousness was also noted, and played a great part in her downfall.

Even Miss Delaney's closest friends, who had been most likely to believe her stories, had to admit that perhaps dear Patience had been mistaken about Miss Acton's character when they saw how Frederick's family upheld his fiancée. During the first two weeks of her stay in London, she never went anywhere without one or several of them in attendance. His mother and aunt took turns in taking her to parties; Mrs. Irving restricting her chaperonage to those functions she could attend in spite of her state of mourning. Since both Mrs. Irving and Mrs. Murray were known to be sticklers for propriety, even those well-disposed towards Miss Delaney acknowledged that she had, in all likelihood, misjudged Miss Acton. It was highly unlikely that either of those ladies would lift as much as a finger to assist someone who was not quite the thing.

If Miss Acton's popularity with her fiancé's relatives had not been enough to convince everyone of her good character, one only had to look at Miss Acton's own family to dismiss the unpleasant rumours. Miss Acton's father was a clergyman, after all, and her mother and aunt were ladies of rigid respectability. One could hardly assume that any daughter of such parents would stray from the path of virtue, and if she did it would be improbable that her parents would sit back and watch without doing anything about it. No, Miss Delaney must have been mistaken, was the tenor among her friends, while the rest of London society correctly assumed that she had simply made up the whole story to do as much harm as she could, and acted accordingly.

The ultimate success of their rescue mission, Mrs. Irving as well as her son and nephew agreed, was ensured when Lady Sefton invited Rosalind to dine at her house and, in the course of the evening, promised her a voucher for Almack's, should she care to spend the next Season in London. From then on, no one could doubt that Rosalind would be accepted everywhere, and that Miss Delaney's hate campaign had failed.

Winter weddings did have their disadvantages, people in Rampton thought. For one, the church was freezing cold, and besides it was impossible to catch a glimpse of the bridal gown since the bride was so disobliging as to wear a fur-lined pelisse at the ceremony. Everyone agreed, though, that Miss Acton had never looked lovelier than on her wedding day.

The wedding breakfast was a great success -- not only had the bridegroom invited his friends and family to celebrate his wedding at the Manor House in Rampton, he had also liberally provided for the villagers and his tenants at the local public house.
The young couple did not honour these celebrations with their presence for long. Only two hours after they had been married in St George's Church in Rampton, they got into the carriage that was to take them to Bath, where they wanted to spend their honeymoon.

During the months of her engagement, Rosalind had learned to relax some of the strict rules of conduct she had always imposed upon herself, and now she found nothing wrong with snuggling up to her new husband, enjoying the feeling of being close to him and the sensation of his arms around her. Considering what she had been that spring when he had arrived in Rampton she had come a long way, Rosalind thought and mentioned this to Frederick.

He laughed. "Indeed you have," he agreed.

"When you said you wanted us to forget about London and start over again -- did you expect things would turn out this way -- that we would be married before the end of this year?" Rosalind asked.

"I did not expect it -- but I had some hope. Not much, but I felt it might be worth a try."

Rosalind smiled. "And, was it?" she teased.

"More than that. This is much better than I'd ever thought," he replied, and kissed her. Rosalind could not help but think that the journey would turn out to be less tedious than she had feared.

The End

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