Page 7 of Papa's Captive
Chapter 4
As she hurried down the hallway to the drawing room where her beloved Lord Caldwell awaited her, Rosie’s heart thundered with emotion. He still cared for her! Why else would he have appeared at Talcott House? It was not as though he would travel from London in order to tell her he no longer had feelings for her. That was a journey no man wished to make.
Though an honorable man would. In the dark period before her arrival at Talcott House, she had been utterly shattered by the letter from Lord Hanworth ending their betrothal. She ought not to have been surprised by his change of heart, but humiliated he cared so little for her feelings that he completed the task via letter rather than in person. ‘Twas not as though she had a contagious disease, though she supposed in his mind, and many others’, she did. The taint of family dishonor.
She paused in front of a large oval mirror hanging in the hallway and checked her appearance. The light from the nearby sconces illuminated the strands of chestnut brown in her otherwise dark hair and her blue eyes danced with excitement. She very much looked the part of a little lady who had just gotten up to no good and her stomach flipped as she briefly wondered what Lord Caldwell might say if he learned about the events which had just transpired. She patted her hair into place, lamenting the affect her tumble across the floor with Lily had taken upon her coiffure. Pinching her cheeks to add color hardly seemed necessary, the thrill of Lord Caldwell’s sudden arrival giving her a flush, but she tweaked her skin nonetheless, the result of habit and nervousness.
Garland caught up to her while she was thus engaged. “You cannot rush off like that. I am your chaperone and I need to be able to observe you and Lord Caldwell to make sure you are not doing anything improper,” Garland said once she was able to partake of enough breath to speak. Hurrying down the long hallway had taken a toll on Garland’s lung capacity.
Rosie rounded on Garland, hands on hips. “You need to stay behind us when Lord Caldwell and I walk out. He is here to seemeand you are always inserting yourself into our conversations. Do you not know anything about courtship? Or proper etiquette, even? You are not the object of his visit, I am. And I will thank you to remember that.”
Garland mimicked Rosie’s hands on hips stance, and added a chin jut. “I know you are not to be alone with a man. It is not dignified and Miss Wickersham has givenmethe job of making sureyoudo not misbehave.” Garland, a dark glint in her eyes, puffed up with pride and dared Rosie to challenge her.
Rosie had already taken on one young woman today, she was not opposed to a row with Garland as well. The uncharacteristic thought startled her and Rosie let loose a nervous laugh. She needed to get her wits about her. Lord Caldwell expected her to be sweet, loving and obedient and currently she felt the complete opposite, at least as far as Garland was concerned.
Scrubbing her hands over her face, Rosie closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to steady her nerves. She shook out her arms and even wiggled her legs to release the pent up anxiety.
“What is wrong with you? Are you having a fit?” Garland asked, reaching a hand out to touch Rosie’s forehead. “Are you ill? Shall we stop to see Nurse Lister?”
“Oh, heavens no. I do not wish to see Nurse Lister.”
As if on cue, the door to Nurse Lister’s office opened down the hallway and a subdued Lily exited. When Lily and Lettie met up with Rosie and Garland, the four young women exchanged suspicious glances. “I thought you were waiting in Miss Wickersham’s study until I arrived,” Lily said, giving Rosie a meaningful look. “I suppose you have sweet talked your way out of punishment and laid all the blame on me. You are a fine one to always slant the facts in your favor. No one can get a fair hearing when you are involved.”
At the mention of afair hearing, Rosie’s psyche took another unwanted plunge into the past.
“Miss Andrews, did you help your father in any way during his illegal activities? Possibly unknowingly? Did you ever carry correspondences for him or perhaps—”
“I-I did nothing of the sort.” Panic filled her as her gaze swept over the courtroom. No friendly faces stared back at her. She had agreed to testify in the hopes of helping her father, but it seemed now the prosecutor was trying his best to paint her as a suspect. “Besides,” she hurriedly added, “there are no missives I could have passed on for him, anyway. As I’ve told you again and again, sir, my father is entirely innocent.”
The prosecutor walked closer, until she could smell his vile body odor. Perspiration trickled down his temples as he glared at her, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “The evidence against your father is damning, my dear. I doubt—”
“Hang ‘em both, I say,” came a shout from the spectators.
More raucous yells followed and cold dread gripped Rosie. She glanced at her father, wearing bruises on his face, his arms and legs shackled. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he gave her a brief smile, no doubt in an effort to comfort her.
Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She was doing the right thing and telling the truth, just as she always strived to do.
Why wouldn’t anyone believe her?
Rosie blinked hard to dispel the awful memories and focused her attention on her present companions. Though she had felt quite vulnerable just a few minutes before when contemplating life without Lord Caldwell, news of his appearance as well as anger at the memory from a lifetime ago had infused her with confidence and a fair amount of pique. Rosie stared down Lily. “What you say is a lie. You do not know what you are talking about. Now, get on your way to Miss Wickersham’s and keep your nose out of my business...unless you’d like me to punch it.” Rosie held up a clenched fist. Lettie gasped and yanked Lily down the hall.
Satisfied, Rosie turned to Garland before lowering her fist. “And the same goes for you if you do not allow Lord Caldwell and I an opportunity to speak privately.”
“What has gotten into you, Rosie?” Garland said. “If you are going to be that way about it, then I shall have to discuss this with Miss Wickersham.” Garland turned as though she were headed to Miss Wickersham's rooms for confirmation of her duties. Rosie, knowing she would be pushing her luck to walk out with Lord Caldwell without a chaperone, acquiesced and touched Garland on the arm.
“That won't be necessary, Garland,” she said. “I am sorry I got angry with you. I am simply anxious over seeing Lord Caldwell after his long absence. Please, make haste. I have a dreadful fear he will leave if I do not appear soon and then who knows what will happen or when I will have an opportunity to be with him.”
Garland was not so easily assuaged. “What about your threats? Your raised fist?”
“Please, Garland, for once—just once in your life—could you not be such a stickler for the rules?” Rosie hated the feeling of panic and desperation filling her chest and she hated even more the small tear she felt forming at the corner of her eye. However, Garland's gaze softened and her shoulders relaxed.
“I shall see what I can do,” Garland said. “But you know it is my duty to make sure that nothing untoward happens. I am here for your protection. To protect your reputation and your virtue.”
Rosie blushed at the mention of her virtue. She had to admit the warm thrum she felt whenever she thought about Lord Caldwell had begun to simmer in her lady parts when she learned he was on the premises.
“I believe my virtue is safe. All we wish to do is walk in the gardens and talk privately. You can protect my ‘virtue’, and anything else, from a safe distance but out of earshot. I am tired of you monopolizing my conversations with Lord Caldwell.”
“Perhaps he enjoys talking to me more than to you,” Garland said with a sniff.
