Page 34 of Grasp the Thorn
“I beg your pardon? A few days after the wedding? You married this paragon then abandoned her a few days after the wedding? Why on earth didn’t you write back and tell me to go soak my head?”
Bear’s guilty wince didn’t go unnoticed.
“You and the lady have had a falling out.”
“Not precisely. Rosa doesn’t… That is to say, I thought some distance might help, but Rosa is not one to nurse a grudge. She writes charming letters, and I write back. When I get home, we will put it behind us.”
“If you will take advice from a man married four years longer than you, when you get back to Mrs Gavenor, discuss whatever it was and clear up any misunderstandings. She is very likely blaming herself for whatever came between you. Women do.”
“Surely not! It was my fault entirely. At least… Lion, I thought virgins bled.” Lord. I did not say that out loud, did I?
Lion took a sip of coffee. “Not that my experience is vast, but I don’t believe it to be an inevitable rule. It depends on the age of the woman, on what kinds of physical activities she has done—my own wife… Well. Let’s leave it at that. And the man’s patience is important.”
Bear groaned. “I should probably be hanged.”
“I see.”
He probably did, too. The ability to pick up small clues and draw correct conclusions was one of his great assets as a commander, and he knew Bear better than anyone else in the world.
“You believed the rumours about her and you still married her?”
“No! At least, I thought they were mostly malicious lies. They started only after her father was no longer able to protect her, and the people most assiduous in pushing them all had an axe to grind.”
“This Pelman wanted to coerce her into bed and used the family feud with her respectable cousins.”
“In a nutshell. Dammit, Lion, it’s obvious to me now. She kissed like an innocent. I thought she was just shy, or nervous about being interrupted by the servants.”
“Ah well. Women are told their first time will be painful, though it is not necessarily so.” He smiled as if at a fond memory, then recalled himself and continued. “You made sure she enjoyed her second time, I assume.” He raised his brows again. “No. You rushed off to London, instead. Bear, tell me you didn’t let the poor lady know you thought she had had previous lovers.”
Bear grimaced.
“You did.” Lion wagged his head from side to side. “Bear, Bear, what are we going to do with you? So, there she is miserable in Cheshire because her husband insulted then abandoned her. Here you are miserable in London because you have made a mess of things and don’t know how to put it right. Go home, Bear. Talk to your wife.”
CHAPTER 24
Two weeks of mostly fine weather saw the standing part of Thorne Hall made weather tight, and had the local farmers scurrying to salvage what they could of the harvest. Papa seemed slightly better, too, enjoying daily outings in his chair as he lectured Brownlee on herbal lore and the romance poetry of medieval France.
Rosa’s new gown was delivered, and she wore it with the new bonnet and shawl to Matins on the second fine Sunday, feeling guilty delight at outshining Livia Pelman and the younger Lady Threxton. With an effort, she reminded herself that she was here to pray, not to show off her fine feathers, and she did penance by praying for the two women.
They lingered outside, talking to the vicar who had ridden over from a neighbouring parish since the rector had gone to stay with relatives for his convalescence. The vicar was a young man, new to the area, and employed to cover the parish for a rector who had a second parish, and one he preferred, in Lancashire.
“The wages of sin, I assure you,” Rosa heard Miss Pelman say to him.
Rosa set her jaw, straightened her back and swept up to them, holding out her hand to the vicar as the other two drew away as if to avoid contamination. “Vicar Snaith. I am Mrs Hugh Gavenor. My husband and I own and are restoring Thorne Hall. I see you have already met my cousin, Lady Threxton, and her friend.
The vicar, with a nervous glance at the two women, tentatively took her hand and bowed slightly. “Mrs Gavenor. Ah… Er…”
Before he could figure out a way to avoid taking sides, or decide which side to take, a relief force of Rosa’s supporters joined them, introducing themselves and taking over the conversation. Miss Pelman and Lady Threxton withdrew, and the vicar, though not without several sideways glances at Rosa, accepted her presence in the middle of the chattering group.
“She hasn’t improved none,” Mrs Gillywether said as they made their way home. “That Livia Pelman was a mean child and she has grown into a mean old woman.”
Rosa turned to look at her. “You knew Miss Pelman as a child? But I thought they only came here six years ago.”
“Came back six years ago,” Mrs Gillywether corrected. “That Mr Pelman who caused all the trouble for the squire’s girls? He brought his two little ’uns to live at Thorne Hall when he came to be factor for Lord Hurley. Miss Livia was six and Master Lawrence just old enough to toddle. Before your time, that was, Mrs Gavenor. Lord Hurley dismissed him after he ruined poor Miss Belle.”
By the middle of the following week, the storms had returned. Caleb was feeling smug, since he had moved himself and the Liverpool crew out of the tents in the stables and into Thorne Hall, where they continued to camp, but without risk of a cold drenching in the middle of the night.
“Now the place is weather tight, we can continue the work no matter how it storms, Mrs Gavenor. And we’ve done the demolition needed to make the place safe. We’ll carry on with that and the new stable block in fine spells, and make the inside what it needs to be when it rains.”
