For the Roses (54 page)

Harrison wasn't there to comfort her. He had been given a mound of work to complete for Lord Elliott and was, therefore, forced to spend the weekdays and weeknights in the city. She saw him only during the weekends, but then the country house was always bursting at the seams with relatives and friends, and they were rarely allowed to be alone.

Harrison had become obsessed with finding the evidence to condemn George MacPherson. Whenever there was an extra hour available, he went up to their bedroom and poured over old ledgers he'd brought from London looking for the hidden discrepancy. Douglas had stolen the money from the nursemaid, and she had to have gotten it from MacPherson. Where in thunder had he gotten it, Harrison would mutter to himself. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't find it.

Mary Rose still hadn't met her father's assistant. MacPherson, she'd been told, had left on holiday just as she was reaching England. He had wired for an extension and still hadn't returned to work. She told Harrison she supposed she would never meet the man because she fully expected to be back in Montana before the first hard snow, and it didn't look like MacPherson planned on returning to England any time soon. Harrison didn't agree or disagree with her assumption. As time went on, she became more and more withdrawn. She'd written to her brothers at least a dozen times and still hadn't heard a word from them. She didn't want to bother Harrison with her worry that something had happened and her brothers were trying to shield her from bad news, and so she fretted about it in silence. She hadn't heard from her mama either, and she knew Cole had sent her Mary Rose's address. Had something happened to her?

Dear God, what would she do if her mama needed her and she couldn't go to her?

Worrying about her family put her on edge, of course. Her relationship with her Aunt Lillian became increasingly brittle. Eleanor had become the aunt's darling, and Lady Lillian was constantly comparing the two young ladies. Eleanor cooperated; Mary Rose didn't. Eleanor appreciated what the family could do for her. She adored her new clothes and realized the importance of looking smart at all times. Mary Rose would do well to learn from her friend's example. No one ever saw Eleanor with a smudge on her dress ora hair out of place. She never, ever ran anywhere. Why, when all the official functions began, Eleanor would be ready, but would Lord Elliott's own daughter? Could any of them bear it if she embarrassed them?

Mary Rose couldn't understand her aunt's obsession with such superficial matters. The behavior of the upper crust puzzled her. Women, it seemed, spent most of their days changing their clothes. Mary Rose was expected to wear a riding habit in the morning, then change to a day dress, then a tea gown, and finally put on an elegant dinner gown. It seemed to her that she was always running up the stairs to put on something different.

Women weren't supposed to engage men in conversation about political matters either. It wasn't considered ladylike to show one's intelligence. Did she wish to embarrass Harrison by behaving like an equal? No, no, of course she didn't, her aunt decreed. Mary Rose must learn to talk about home and family. She must present a smile to the world, and if she wanted to argue or criticize, well then, that was what her staff was for. It was perfectly all right to find fault with the servants. Mary Rose didn't tell her aunt what she thought about her opinions. She knew she frustrated her relatives. She wanted to please her aunts and her father, and so each morning she vowed to try a little harder to live up to everyone's expectations. Her Aunt Barbara suggested she think of herself asa blank canvas and let them create a masterpiece.

August and most of September were spent preparing her for her place in society. Mary Rose learned all about the hierarchy amongst the titled gentlemen and ladies, who was interested in what, those she should avoid and those she should be especially nice to, and on and on and on, until her mind became cluttered with all the unimportant details she mustn't dare forget.

She spent her afternoons being tutored while she sat with her cousins in the conservatory of her father's home learning how to do needlework and other crafts.

Lord Elliott continued to pile work on Harrison. He was sent from one end of England to another on business matters, and on those rare occasions when he returned to his wife, she inevitably broached the subject of going home. Harrison put her off by telling her to wait a little longer before she made her decision.

He also gave her constant praise, so much so that she began to wonder why he liked what was being done to her.

Her last spurt of rebellion came just the day before she was to attend her very first ball. She found her Aunt Lillian in her bedroom going through her clothes.

"What are you doing, Aunt Lillian?"

"Ann Marie told me you're still wearing these crinolines, Victoria. They're out of fashion now. Don't you remember, dear? The tighter skirts are in. Shouldn't you think about throwing them out?" Mary Rose was appalled by the idea. Throwing away perfectly good underskirts had to be sinful. She vehemently argued with her aunt.

A tug-of-war resulted. The underskirt her aunt was trying to take and Mary Rose was trying to keep ended up being torn in half. In the midst of the struggle, buckshot clattered to the floor.

"What in the name of God is that?" her aunt wanted to know.

"It's buckshot, Aunt Lillian. My friend Blue Belle suggested I sew some into the hems of my underskirts to weigh them down. The wind can sometimes become strong enough to blow a lady's skirts up over her head in the West."

Lillian was so appalled by her explanation, she had to sit down. She ordered Ann Marie to fetch her smelling salts and then patted the seat next to her and suggested to Mary Rose that they have another nice long talk.

Mary Rose knew what was coming. Her aunt wanted to assure her for the hundredth time that she and the family only had her best interests at heart. She would also tell her never to mention putting buckshot in her skirt hems again.

The family moved into their London quarters late that afternoon, and the following evening she was duly presented to her father's friends and associates at a formal ball in honor of her marriage. She wore a beautiful ivory evening gown with matching gloves. Her hair was swept up into a cluster of curls and secured with sapphire clips. The dress was dangerously low cut, in keeping with the current fashion, and her maid had to assure her several times she really wasn't going to spill out of the bodice.

"You look like Lady Victoria," she whispered once she'd finished fussing with her mistress's curls. Harrison almost missed his own party. He had just returned to London two hours before. He looked exhausted to her. Her husband stood with her father in the entryway and watched her walk down the stairs. Elliott was fairly overwhelmed by his daughter. He grabbed hold of Harrison's arm to steady himself and whispered, "I see my Agatha when I gaze upon Victoria." Mary Rose could see how happy her father was. She reached the bottom of the steps and executed a perfect curtsy. Her aunts and uncle stood in the background watching. Tears filled her Aunt Lillian's eyes as she watched her niece.

"Well done, Victoria," she praised. "Well done." Harrison was the only one not pleased with what he was seeing. He wanted his wife to go back upstairs and put on something less revealing.

"She'll catch a cold," he argued.

"Nonsense," Aunt Lillian scoffed. "She'll wear her new jacket and be just fine." Eleanor kept them waiting another fifteen minutes. She finally came down the stairs dressed in a pale green evening gown. She stared at Aunt Lillian for approval, and when the woman gave her a brisk nod and a quick smile, Eleanor beamed with pleasure.

Harrison was helping Mary Rose put on her fur jacket when Aunt Lillian spotted her gold chain.

"Where are your sapphires?" she asked.

"Upstairs," Mary Rose answered. "I wanted to wear my locket and Ann Marie told me I couldn't wear both."

"It won't do, dear. Why, the chain looks tarnished. Take it off this instant. Edward, run upstairs and fetch the sapphires."

"She wants to wear her locket," Harrison announced. "It has special meaning to her, and to me." Her father also decided to champion her cause, and two men against one woman should have weighed the outcome in their favor. It didn't though. As usual, Aunt Lillian was a force to be reckoned with. A battle would have ensued if Mary Rose hadn't graciously given in.

She asked the butler to take her locket upstairs and put it on her desk. She also added the request that he be careful with it.

Aunt Lillian stopped frowning once the sapphire necklace was clipped around Mary Rose's neck.

"Do you ever get to win?" Harrison asked her on the way out the door.

"No, but that isn't important," she answered. "My aunt has my best interests at heart." Harrison wasn't at all certain about her Aunt Lillian's motives, but because Mary Rose didn't seem upset by the woman's constant bullying, he decided not to make an issue out of the necklace now. Mary Rose was filled with excitement. She felt like a princess in a fairy tale. She was determined to make her father proud of her and said several hasty prayers that she wouldn't do anything to embarrass any of her relatives.

The ball was held at Montrouse Mansion. Mary Rose stood between her husband and her father as she was introduced to well-wishers. She met the Duke and Duchess of Tremont and found them both delightful. The duke was quite old, befuddled too, because he kept calling her Lady Agatha and whispering what a miracle it all was.

No one corrected the man. She looked up at Harrison to see what he thought about the man's misconception. He winked at her.

She didn't believe she made very many mistakes. Her father and her aunts seemed pleased with her performance. It was a strain, though, to suffer everyone's curiosity. A baron with sideburns nearly reaching his mouth begged for a dance, and while she was being twirled about the floor, he asked her if she had ever seen any of those savage Indians he'd read about. He didn't give her time to form an answer, but added the comment that he supposed she hadn't, given the fact that she was raised by a God-fearing family in St. Louis.

Mary Rose didn't set the baron straight. When the dance was finished, she went in search of her husband. She spotted him standing in front of the French doors that led out onto the balcony. He was in deep conversation with another man she hadn't met yet. Whatever the topic was, it obviously irritated Harrison, for his jaw was clenched and there was a frosty look in his eyes. Aunt Lillian intercepted her. "Your Uncle Daniel and Aunt Johanna have just arrived. Come and meet them, dear."

"Yes, of course," she agreed. "Aunt Lillian? Did you tell the baron I was just dancing with that I used to live in St. Louis?"

Her aunt didn't immediately answer her. She clasped hold of Mary Rose's arm and led her around the dancing couples. Mary Rose was too curious to let the subject go. She made the assumption her aunt was responsible and prodded her into telling her why she'd lied.

"It wasn't a lie, my dear, just a little fabrication. It's easier for everyone to accept you. St. Louis isn't as primitive, and there aren't many uncouth people living there. I have it on good authority they're quite cultured. I won't have anyone mocking you, Victoria. After tonight, no one would dare, of course. You're the most refined young lady here. I'm so proud of you. We all are. Your mother's surely smiling down on you with pride. There's Daniel now. He doesn't look at all like your father, does he?"

Mary Rose gave up trying to make sense out of her aunt's convoluted motives. She wasn't ashamed of where she'd grown up, but Aunt Lillian seemed to think she should be. The older woman didn't understand what a wonderful life she'd had, of course. How could she? Mary Rose was never allowed to talk about it.

Her father's brother seemed to be genuinely happy to meet her. His wife stood by his side, and after she'd gotten over her surprise and made the comment, as everyone else had, that Mary Rose looked so very like her mother, she embraced her niece and welcomed her into the family. Mary Rose liked Daniel, but she decided to wait before she formed an opinion about Lady Johanna. If her aunt joined the others and began pecking at her, she wasn't going to like her much at all. As was her habit, when she felt herself becoming nervous, she reached up to touch her locket. The link with her family comforted her. She felt a moment of panic when she touched the jeweled necklace, then took a deep breath, told herself she was being foolish, and tried once again to pay attention to what her Uncle Daniel was telling her about his family's exhausting holiday.

Mary Rose's glance kept returning to Harrison. She was finally able to excuse herself and go to her husband. She wanted to tell him to stop frowning, but the other gentleman was standing next to him, and she wasn't about to criticize him in front of a stranger.

Harrison's friend, Nicholas, joined her. He introduced himself, bowed low, and then smiled at her. He was an extremely handsome man, with dark hair and eyes. He was almost as tall as Harrison was, wire thin, and oozed charm.

"Congratulations, Lady Victoria. I wish you and Harrison the best."

"Thank you, sir," she answered.

"Shall we go and save your husband from the biggest gossip in London?" She put her hand on his arm and walked by his side. "What is his name?"

"The bore," Nicholas answered.

Mary Rose laughed. The sound of her amusement turned several heads. She quickly schooled her expression. "He isn't boring Harrison."

"No, he isn't," Nicholas agreed. "Your husband is trying to hold on to his temper." Mary Rose was introduced to Sidney Madison a moment later. She had already decided she didn't like him because he was a rumor spreader, and his manners only confirmed her opinion. Adam would have called him a fop, and Sidney Madison wouldn't have lasted five minutes in Blue Belle. He was an effeminate man with overly long fingernails she thought distasteful. His manners were very affected too. She put her hand on Harrison's arm and stood by his side while Madison finished telling a story about his recent experience in New York City. Nicholas stood on her other side with his hands clasped behind his back. The sparkle, she noticed, was gone from his eyes. Nicholas seemed to be as miserable as Harrison obviously was. Her husband gripped the glass he was holding in his right hand, and she noticed his other hand was fisted at his side.