Rose (Flower Trilogy) (38 page)

Rose ignored the question, turning to the footman instead. “Windsor,” she ordered.

“Windsor?” Violet’s jaw dropped open. “You told Mum we would stay at the town house tonight. I heard you with my own ears.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to tell her I’m spending the night with Kit.” She hadn’t planned to from the outset, but when the combination of Rowan’s deception and collecting her sisters resulted in a late start that would make an overnight stay necessary, it had occurred to her that she could spend that night with Kit.

An unexpected bonus, and one to which she was very much looking forward.

“Windsor,” she repeated, settling back as the footman closed the door. ’Twould be a lengthy ride, but toward Trentingham, after all, so her sisters had no real reason to protest. They’d arrive at their respective homes earlier tomorrow than if they’d stayed the night in London.

Lily toed the heavy bag with one red-heeled shoe. “How much money?”

There was no point in lying. “A thousand pounds. Do you know, I had no idea how heavy—”

“A
thousand
pounds?” Violet’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “Egad. Whatever will you do with all that money?”

“I’m giving it to Ellen. Kit’s sister.”

“What?” both her sisters burst out. The cat jumped from Lily’s lap and cowered under a bench seat.

“I’d planned to give Ellen all ten thousand, but the goldsmith convinced me ’twould be too much to carry.” Rose rolled her shoulders, still feeling the strain. “So I’m giving her just the thousand with a note from Mr. Abrahamson promising the rest is forthcoming.”

Violet slumped against the coach wall. “You’re giving Ellen Martyn ten thousand pounds.”

“Ellen Whittingham. And I’m telling her it’s from Kit. At least I hope she’ll believe it’s from Kit. He had promised her eleven—”

“Are you out of your mind?” Lily interrupted.

“Yes,” Violet snapped at the same time Rose said, “No.”

“ ’Tis Ellen who has lost her mind,” she continued, proceeding to tell her sisters the long, sad story. “Can you not see?” she concluded. “I think her pregnancy must be affecting her brain.”

Violet shook her head. “I never felt better than when I was carrying my children.”

“Not everyone is so lucky. When Mum’s maid Anne was last with child, she was always at sixes and sevens. Practically useless, but as soon as—”

“Have you considered,” Lily broke in, “that Ellen might simply be a spoiled brat?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. But Kit is perplexed and hurt, and I believe if she’d been like this always, he would be exasperated and angry instead. And Ellen is really nice.

Mum quite likes her.”

Violet took off her spectacles and polished them on her skirts. “And you believe Kit is totally blameless in this?”

“Of course he isn’t. In his own way he’s as stubborn as his sister. But I cannot blame him for the way he feels, and I cannot stand to see him so unhappy. ’Tis like a dark cloud hanging over my wedding. The only way to solve this is to give Ellen my inheritance and make her think the money came from Kit. Then she’ll talk to him and everyone will be happy.”

Lily scooped up the cat again. “But you’ll have given up your inheritance!”

“Don’t be a goose. Kit will replace it. If Ellen would only speak to him again, he’d be happy enough to hand over her dowry.”

“Has he said so?”

“Not in so many words. But I know him,” she added, lifting her chin.

“You cannot know him.” The poor cat let out a pathetic meow as Lily clutched it tighter. “You haven’t lived with him for even a single day. Goodness, I’ve been married to Rand almost two months now, and he surprises me all the time.”

Violet slid her spectacles back on. “I’ve been living with Ford for
four years,
and sometimes I still wonder—”

“I know Kit,” Rose repeated. “No matter that he hasn’t said so, there is no chance he meant to keep that money from his sister forever. What is the difference whether the ten thousand pounds was mine or his to begin with? It will be ours soon enough either way.”

“There’s a difference,” Lily argued. “Unlike a dowry that becomes your husband’s upon marriage, according to Grandpapa’s will that money is yours to control. Not many women have the advantage of their own funds. By handing it over to Ellen, you’re giving that up. You and Kit may have the same amount of money combined, but none of it will be under your control.”

“That doesn’t matter. Not compared to this.” Rose forced herself to calm. Her sisters were only trying to help. “Kit and Ellen are not speaking, and both of them are miserable.

And they’re the only family either of them has . . . can you imagine one of us missing the other’s wedding?”

Her sisters seemed to consider that a moment, then Violet tried another tack. “Have you told Mum and Father what you’re doing?”

Rose remained quiet.

“Of course she hasn’t,” Lily said. “They would never in a million years agree.”

“I’ve no need of their permission. I’m twenty-one. The money is legally mine.”

“But you knew you would have had an argument, did you not?” Lily’s blue eyes lit with sudden understanding.

“That’s why we’re here with you instead of Mum, isn’t it?

I’d wager Rowan isn’t even ill. How can you live with yourself, scheming behind your own mother’s back?”

Rose’s lips thinned. “You were not averse to scheming last week to get me to Windsor,” she pointed out. “I’d rather scheme than have my sister-in-law refuse to attend our wedding. If that happens, Kit may never forgive her.”

“Has it occurred to you,” Violet asked with concern,

“that Kit might never forgive
you
for meddling in his affairs?”

It hadn’t, and Rose was taken aback for a moment. But only a moment. “Kit’s not like that,” she said.

“You don’t know him—”

“I do.” This discussion was going nowhere, and Rose was finished with it. “What is it with all this traffic?” she asked, glaring out the window. “At this rate, my wedding day will arrive before we even get out of London.”

“Excellent attempt at changing the subject—” Violet started.

“No,” Lily interrupted. “Something
is
going on.”

The carriage hadn’t budged in the last ten minutes. Since they weren’t going anywhere anyway, they all climbed out.

“William and Mary,” Rose breathed. “Their wedding! I’d completely forgotten that today is the fourth of November.”

William of Orange and King Charles’s niece, Mary, rode in an open carriage down the Strand on their way to St.

James’s Palace. Caught in the crush, Rose and her sisters were swept into the swarm of citizens lining the streets, waving and cheering as William and Mary approached.

“Everyone seems so happy to see them wed,” Lily remarked, holding onto her cat for dear life.

“She’s a Protestant,” Rose said. “Charles is no fool. He has no legitimate heirs, and he knows the people don’t want to see his Catholic brother James on the throne. He is wise to marry James’s daughter to a Protestant prince like William of Orange.”

“When did
you
become so wise?” Violet asked.

Rose lifted her chin. “Just because I don’t bury my nose in books about the past doesn’t mean I am ignorant of the present. Besides”—she shrugged and cracked a droll smile—“I vow and swear, there was little to do at Court in the daytime besides read newsheets.”

The happy roar swelled as the bride and groom drew closer. But Mary did not look happy at all. In fact, as she rode by in the royal carriage, wearing a magnificent blue and gold gown and waving to the people, she looked ready to burst into tears.

“How old is she?” Lily asked.

“Fifteen. And William is twenty-seven.”

Twenty-seven and short with stooped shoulders, bad teeth, and a large, beaked nose.

Rose wouldn’t want to marry him, either. Her heart went out to poor Mary. With her own wedding only five days away, she suddenly felt very lucky to be marrying a man she truly loved.

Assuming, that was, that Kit wasn’t angry she’d forced matters with Ellen. Violet’s question kept rattling in her brain.
Has it occurred to you that Kit might never forgive
you for meddling in his affairs?

But with the wedding so close, she couldn’t allow this brother-sister standoff to continue. Not when there was a way to fix it. Standing by meekly was simply not in her nature.

Kit wouldn’t be angry; he’d be grateful. She knew him well enough to know that.

Didn’t she?

With all the excitement and delay caused by the royal wedding, night had fallen by the time Rose and her sisters reached Windsor and the carriage jerked to a stop in front of the pawnshop.

Rose roused herself from a doze and climbed down, then turned back when nobody seemed to be following her.

Shivering in the cold night air, she stared through the open doorway of the vehicle. “Are you two not going to come with me?”

Her sisters looked at each other. “I think not,” Lily said for them both.

“We don’t choose to be part of this insanity,” Violet elaborated.

“Oh, do hush up,” Rose said. Obviously they didn’t appreciate her roping them into her plot, but she couldn’t have simply gallivanted about England alone. This was the sort of thing sisters were for, wasn’t it?

And she’d done some thinking on the way here to Windsor.

She clutched her cloak tighter around herself. “Do you know,” she told Violet, “I seem to remember you ‘meddling’ in Ford’s affairs. For God’s sake, you patented and sold his invention without his knowledge; you secretly bought that book, thereby giving him your money—giving him your inheritance, Violet, hmm?—without him knowing—”

“ ’Tis not comparable,” Lily cut in. “She gave the money to Ford, the man she was planning to marry. You’re giving yours to Ellen.”

Rose turned on her. “And you gave up control of your own money, too, to Rand’s father. Quite willingly, if I remember right.”

“That is not comparable, either. ’Twas the only way I could marry Rand.”

“I see. Speaking of Rand . . . Wasn’t Rand the one who came to Violet with the plan to secretly save Ford’s estate?

It seems to me he’s not averse to a little manipulation for a good cause. Are you telling me Rand would leave you if you meddled in his business?”

“Well, no. I am certain we would work it out. But you’re not married yet. What if Kit is so angry he calls off the wedding? Then you’ll have lost all your money, and—”

“Never mind.” There was no reasoning with either of them. Rose reached back into the carriage and hefted the bag of coins with a little grunt. Fuming, she stomped to the pawnshop’s door and knocked.

And knocked. And knocked. She had just about decided the Whittinghams weren’t home when Thomas finally cracked open the door, his face illuminated by a single candle.

“We’re closed,” he said, then raised the candle higher.

“Oh. Lady Rose.” With his free hand, he clutched the top of his half open shirt.

She shifted the heavy bag in her arms. “I have something for Ellen. From Kit.”

He eyed the bag curiously. “Well, come in, then, will you?”

She followed him through the dark shop and up the stairs, noting his disheveled hair and wondering if she’d roused him from his bed. ’Twas early yet, but he and Ellen
were
newly wedded. If Rose had her way, she’d be going to bed early every night with Kit. She could hardly wait to finish this and surprise him at his house.

“In here,” Thomas said at the top of the stairs, opening a door to a small room crammed full of furniture and decorative pieces.

“Rose!” Ellen jumped up from a chair, dressed in a pale pink wrapper. The firelight behind her left no doubt that she wore nothing underneath.

So Rose had guessed right. She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused. “I’ve brought something for you. From Kit.” She walked closer and handed Ellen the bag.

Not expecting its weight, Ellen squealed as it slipped through her hands and fell to the floor with a
thud,
flopping onto its side. The top opened a little, and a coin rolled out and across the plain wooden boards, finally landing with a little
clink.
For a moment, it just sat there, glinting gold in the firelight.

Then Ellen rushed to scoop it up. She folded her fingers around it and looked to Rose, a question in her eyes.

“Your dowry,” Rose told her. “The first thousand pounds of it. The rest is forthcoming. ’Tis waiting in London whenever you decide to claim it.” She handed Ellen the goldsmith’s promissory note for nine thousand pounds. “I couldn’t carry more.”

That last sentence, at least, was the truth. And if the rest of what she’d said was less than honest, it was meant well, for Kit’s and Ellen’s good.

Rose sent up a little prayer that Kit would see it that way.

Ellen stared at the paper with the goldsmith’s name. Rose hoped she wasn’t going to fuss over the missing thousand pounds—ten thousand, after all, was a vast sum of money.

Ellen still hadn’t said a word. “Kit loves you,” Rose added simply.

“I know.” Tears flooded Ellen’s eyes. She opened her clenched fist and stared down at the coin. “I . . . I know not what to say.”

“Save your words for Kit. Just tell me you’ll come to our wedding.”

“Of course I will.”

Rose opened her arms, and Ellen stepped into her embrace.

“Kit needs you,” Rose murmured by her ear. “You’re his only family.”

Ellen hugged her tighter. “You’ll be his family soon.”

“ ’Tis not the same. You’re with Thomas now, but Kit shares your blood.” Rose and her sisters bickered all the time, but even angry as she was with them now, she knew they only wanted the best for her. And they would always be there if she needed them. Always. “You need Kit, too.

Sisters and brothers . . . ’tis a bond that should never be broken.”

“I was going to make her go to your wedding, anyway,”

Thomas put in.

“He was going to
try
to make me go,” Ellen clarified with a strained laugh. She took a deep breath and stepped back. “ ’Twas turning into our first fight.”

Rose eyed her scant apparel. “Not too serious, apparently.”