Jumping up, she rushed from the room.
Glad that no one was around, Rosabel hastened up the stairs and cursed each step it took to reach the end of the corridor and open the door to her room. There in the top drawer of her vanity were Leonora’s diaries and letters, letters that her husband had written to her, or so Rosabel had thought.
After slamming the door shut, she gathered the drawer’s contents and retreated to her favourite reading spot under the window. Flipping through the first diary, Rosabel scanned the entries, re-reading snippets here and there.
…G. assures me that he will not give up,…
…Although G. did not speak of it,…
…But G. insists I put my trust in him. …
…Never would I have thought G. would consider such a solution. …
And then her eyes found what she had been looking for.
…Graham treats me with the utmost respect. …
…I feel safe with Graham, …
Graham.
Here she had suddenly used his full name and before only the initial. Again her husband’s words echoed in her head, tell me how I can make you forget him!
The truth hit her with such force that it knocked the breath from her lungs. Panting, Rosabel leaned back, closing her eyes for a split second, before she returned her gaze to the words on the page before her.
…Graham adores her, and I am grateful for the father he is to her. Upon first hearing me call her by the name I had chosen, his eyes seemed to darken for a bare instance. I cannot blame him. However, I could not help myself. I feel choosing the name I did would always keep her connected to her roots since she will be denied everything else her line owes her. …
“Georgiana,” Rosabel breathed, feeling the blood drain from her face. “She is not his daughter.”
***
Watching the sun disappear behind the horizon, Rosabel couldn’t move. The truth she had sought for so long did not give her peace. All she had wanted had been to understand, but now she wished she could forget.
Again she re-read the lines before her eyes and shook her head. Georgiana was not his daughter. There was no other explanation. Trying to think things through, she replayed everything she had learned about Leonora in her head.
Leonora had been in love with whom she did not know. But his name started with a G. Although his father had been against the match, they had hoped for a happy outcome. They had to have been sure to succeed in persuading his father, considering that Leonora had risked everything by agreeing to a physical relationship in such a situation. Shortly after, she had then been with child. And then everything had fallen apart.
Instead of marrying the man she loved, he had arranged for her to marry someone else instead, Graham. And her husband had known, he had promised to take care of her and protect her as well as he could. But he had loved her too. Was that why he had agreed to marry her even though she was carrying another man’s child? Because he loved her?
Rosabel couldn’t believe her own reasoning, and yet, it appeared the only explanation.
Again her thoughts returned to Georgiana and the question of her fatherhood. Why had Leonora shortened his name to an initial? Had she been trying to keep his identity a secret in case someone should read her diaries? Why did his identity need to be protected? Who was he?
Reading the lines before her eyes yet again, Rosabel suddenly knew what his name was.
…Upon first hearing me call her by the name I had chosen, his eyes seemed to darken for a bare instance. I cannot blame him. However, I could not help myself. I feel choosing the name I did would always keep her connected to her roots since she will be denied everything else her line owes her. …
Georgiana was named after her father. That had been the reason for her husband’s reaction upon hearing her name.
So his name had to be George.
Unfortunately, it was a name widely popular.
Chapter Twenty-Seven − A Mere Replacement
Shocked and yet not surprised, Rosabel read the note Hanson handed to her. Again her husband had fled the premises. Officially, it had been urgent business calling him to Town, and yet, Rosabel knew without a doubt that the reason he had once again departed in the middle of the night lay with what had happened the day before in his study.
Desperate to kick or hit something, Rosabel tried to satisfy her anger by balling up the note and tossing it into the fire, its flames licking at it like hungry dogs. However, it did not work. Her anger still burned within her, another flame but just as hungry as the ones warming her cheeks.
Strangely following her husband’s example, Rosabel decided that a little distance would help her clear her mind and douse the flames in her heart. She ordered the carriage and then went in search of Georgiana. Half an hour later, they rolled through the greening landscape. Seeing a glow fill the girl’s eyes as the Baron’s estate came into view relieved Rosabel of at least some of her anxieties. If she was to suffer from her husband’s cowardly behaviour, at least his daughter would be spared that day.
Immediately upon their arrival, Rosabel’s youngest cousins latched onto Georgiana, and before she knew what was happening, the four of them scampered off to find new adventures. Watching them go, Rosabel smiled. At this age, life was still easy, still a wonder.
Again sitting in the back parlour with Ellie, Rosabel found eager eyes looking at her. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “You keep fidgeting.”
Casting a glance at the maid, serving tea and sandwiches, Ellie remained silent, only her eyes seemed to be dancing. When the door finally closed and they were alone, it burst from her like a stream breaking a dam. “I know I shouldn’t tell you yet, but I cannot keep it a secret.” She grinned from ear to ear. “I might be married soon myself!”
Rosabel’s mouth fell open as she stared at her cousin wide-eyed. “Married? But…? To whom?”
“Viscount Haston,” Ellie hummed, her voice dreamy as though speaking to a loved one. “He has not proposed yet, but he will. I’m sure of it.”
“Has he made you any promises?” Rosabel asked, worried that her friend might have jumped to conclusions.
Ellie shook her head. “It’s the way he looks at me. I’ve never seen him look at another quite like this. Whenever we meet at a gathering, he stays by my side almost the whole evening.” Remembering one such occasion, her eyes became distant.
“I am happy for you,” Rosabel said, hoping her friend’s hope would not be disappointed the way Leonora’s had been. “But please do not rush into anything without thinking,” she cautioned. “Be sure of his intentions before you allow your feelings to run away with you.”
Ellie nodded. “I will. I promise.” Rosabel hoped this was true.
“And how are you?” Ellie asked. Her eyes seemed to have abandoned their former occupation and now narrowed slightly as they observed Rosabel with curiosity. “You seem different.”
Rosabel shrugged. Although she had hoped to leave her troubles behind for at least a little while, she had known that such a wish was hopeless. Her cousin saw right through her. And yet, Rosabel wasn’t sure how much she ought to share with Ellie. What she had learned the day before was of such delicate and intimate nature that she hesitated to even share it with her truest friend and confidante. What if the servants overheard? Such knowledge could destroy Georgiana’s future and happiness?
“Have you been able to learn more about your husband’s first wife?” Ellie prodded.
Rosabel drew in a deep breath and met her eyes. “I know he still loves her.” Not knowing she would say that, Rosabel clasped a hand over her mouth. Where had this come from?
A knowing smile played on Ellie’s lips as though she had just glimpsed the core of Rosabel’s problems. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “You care for him greatly; do you not?”
Not sure how to answer, Rosabel shrugged, turning her gaze out the window at the gardens slowly coming to life with each passing day, welcoming the br
illiant spring sun.
“That bad?” Ellie asked.
Feigning ignorance, Rosabel said, “What do you mean?”
Ellie shook her head. “Please, dear cousin, do not play me for a fool. You have come to care for him, greatly. Why do you deny it? Are you afraid he does not return your affection?”
For a moment Rosabel contemplated pretending not to understand what her cousin was referring to, but then their eyes met, and Rosabel realized it would be a futile endeavour. Her cousin knew her too well. So, in the end Rosabel nodded, gaze fixed on her hands playing with the folds of her dress.
Ellie nodded. “Maybe not yet,” she counselled. “From what you said, he shared a great love with his first wife. Something like that is not easily forgotten. You must be patient.” Rosabel felt her cousin’s hand descend upon hers, squeezing it gently. “He will come to love you. I am sure of it.”
Desperate to lift the burden that had been weighing down her heart for the past months, Rosabel turned to her cousin. “Oh Ellie, I wish you could be right, but I fear he will never love another. Leonora was everything to him and still is. How can I compete?”
Deep down, Rosabel wasn’t sure she even wanted to. After everything she considered Leonora a friend, an ally, and not a rival for her husband’s affections. Could she live with herself if she were the reason he stopped loving his first wife? Was that right?
Again turning to her cousin, she said, “Yes, I realize now that I do want him to love me…for me. Not as a replacement for his first wife. But at the same time, I do not want him to stop loving her. She was a great woman, who suffered a doomed love,” Ellie frowned but Rosabel ignored her. “She deserves to remain in the hearts of those who loved her.” Hearing Georgiana’s voice echo through the door, Rosabel smiled. “What I want from him is what Georgiana already gave me.”
Again, Ellie frowned. “And what is that?”
“A place in her heart,” Rosabel said. “Leonora was and always will be her mother. I would never dream of taking that away from them. But Georgiana allowed me to be her mother as well. It does not have to be either or. Leonora and me, we are both her mother. And that is what I want.” Feeling the burden lifted, Rosabel looked at her cousin with eyes that held hope for the future. “I know it will not be easy, and I am afraid that there might be a time that I will despair, but I will try nonetheless. I care for him deeply; how that happened I do not know. But I do hope that he will come to love me. It is my dearest wish, and yet, I do not want to rob Leonora of his love. I will not make him choose.”
“It sounds like you have a plan, dear cousin!”
Rosabel laughed, “Not a plan, no. Yesterday, something…happened. I cannot explain further, so please do not press me, but it resulted in an unwelcome consequence.”
Ellie’s eye brows rose in question.
“He left Camden Hall in the night,” Rosabel admitted. “I don’t know where he went or when he’ll return, if he’ll return. So all I can do is wait…and hope.”
***
A fortnight passed, and her husband remained absent. No letter, no communique of any kind, nothing. Rosabel’s as well as Georgiana’s spirits dragged the floors. Few things could bring about a smile. They spent many days sitting in the front drawing room, waiting for the echo of hoof beats to drift up the drive.
The nights were even worse. Glad that at least Georgiana could sleep, Rosabel often wandered the halls, desperate for anything to occupy herself with. Her mind left her restless, and her eyes refused to close for more than a few hours when she neared exhaustion around the break of dawn. So she spent her nights reading, either in bed or in the library. When a book would not hold her attention and her thoughts strayed to questions whose answers only plagued her and roused a terrible drumming behind her temples, Rosabel would seek the silent comfort of the kitchen.
While she had always loved the outdoors, early spring’s cold temperatures prevented her from roaming the gardens in the middle of the night. Her chosen alternative, the kitchen, harboured scents quite unlike those of the gardens, but they, nonetheless, stirred feelings of warmth and contentedness. Even in the dark hours of the night, the scent of fresh bread and tea hung in the air. Sometimes, she would just sit and smell preserves, savouring the concentrated smell of ripe fruit and their sweet aromas as they mingled with the spicy tea she had brewed herself. Doing small things herself, as she had not been permitted since becoming a duchess, brought great joy to her and calmed her nerves. Her mind occupied with ordinary tasks, her heart rejoiced in the simplicity of small pleasures.
One morning after a night when Rosabel’s eyes had closed later than usual, Bridget burst into her room. “Your Grace, you must wake! Your husband arrived.”
Rubbing the remnants of sleep out of her eyes, Rosabel yawned. “Are you certain?” At Bridget’s eager nod, she jumped out of bed. “Help me dress!”
Properly attired, Rosabel had trouble keeping her feet in check lest they run down the curved staircase and burst into her husband’s study fairly the same way Bridget had greeted her that morning. Although eager to see him, Rosabel didn’t know what to expect after everything that had happened. Would he treat her with civility? Would he ignore her? Would he use harsh words or speak with indifference in his voice? Would he pretend like nothing had happened, and they were still strangers?
Rosabel’s head spun. Starting to feel dizzy, she braced a hand against the wall, breathing in deeply.
In that moment, small footsteps echoed from down the hall, quickly drawing closer. Turning around, Rosabel spotted Georgiana’s golden curls bouncing up and down as the girl came running toward her. “Father is back! Father is back!”
Forcing a smile on her face, Rosabel nodded. “So I heard. You have not yet seen him?”
Georgiana shook her head. “Can we see him now?”
Not trusting her voice, Rosabel nodded. Allowing the girl to pull her down the corridor toward her husband’s study, Rosabel wondered if she was making a big mistake by facing him now when he clearly wished to avoid them, or at least her. Wouldn’t he have announced his arrival if he didn’t?
Although reluctant, Georgiana stopped at the door and knocked. To Rosabel it seemed like an eternity passed before her husband’s familiar voice beckoned them to enter. Eagerly, Georgiana pressed down the handle and pulled Rosabel after her into the study. “Father, you’re back!” she beamed. “I have missed you!”
Clearly not expecting his daughter, Rosabel’s husband stared at her as though she was an apparition. Not even glancing in his wife’s direction, his eyes were focused on the little girl bouncing up and down in front of him. “I am afraid I have to work,” he said in a brusque tone.
Undeterred, Georgiana kept beaming at him, blue eyes shining like diamonds. “I have new paintings to show you. I practiced a lot like you said. I believe I am getting better. Will you come and look at them?” Her pleading face could have melted ice, and her father’s face was no match. The corners of his mouth twitched, and a small twinkle came to his eyes as he looked at his daughter. “I will.”
Squealing, Georgiana jumped up and down.
He lifted a hand. “But not right now. I still have business to attend to. Go, return to your lessons, and I shall see you shortly.”
Nodding her head, Georgiana bounced from the room, humming under her breath as she skipped down the hall.
The second she had passed the door and her father’s eyes could not follow her any longer, he only then seemed to realize that his wife was still in the room. His eyes flitted to her for the barest of seconds before returning to the stack of papers before him. “As I said, I have business to attend to.”
His shoulders rigid and jaw clenched, her husband looked as though he was about to face the gallows. Sheer determination seemed to keep him from breaking free and fleeing the scene. The fact that he would not meet her eyes hurt Rosabel more than anything else.
Needing time to tend to her own heart, Rosabel mumbled a quick goodbye and
quit the room as well. Donning a coat and scarf, she rushed from the house, desperate for some fresh air.
As she walked about the garden, her mind began to clear with each chilled breath that touched her lunges. The cold stung the tips of her ears as well as her nose, and she rubbed her gloved hands together in order to keep her fingers from growing stiff. How were they to go on? Rosabel wondered.
For the first time since coming to Camden Hall against her husband’s wishes, Rosabel questioned the wisdom of her decision. Was there a way they could all live under the same roof as a family, not as strangers merely sharing a residence?
In that moment, standing among the slowly awakening shrubs, Rosabel could not fathom a positive outcome. Every scenario led to a doomed future. Strangely, she felt reminded of Leonora’s troubles, feeling a renewed connection to the woman. Was there a chance for her, Rosabel, to be happy when Leonora’s hopes had so tragically been dashed?
Chapter Twenty-Eight − A Kiss Claimed
Although her husband remained civil, particularly to his daughter, his resolve to avoid them as much as possible seemed undeterred. Most days he left the house before breakfast, only to return when night had fallen. What he did away from Camden Hall, Rosabel could only guess. She suspected he spent most of his time on horseback, as Storm seemed exhausted lately, and had probably taken up hunting again. Occasionally, he was accompanied by a group of men carrying rifles, and they spent the better part of the night drinking in the parlour.
Rosabel didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t help but despise his behaviour, and yet, something told her he was merely putting on a show.
Weeks passed, and nothing changed. Temperatures climbed, allowing a warming breeze to brush through the pines and oaks grouped in the gardens. Buds opened and soon blossomed, dotting nature’s green canvas with sparkling colour. The sun shone more brightly these days, promising a brilliant summer. And yet, her husband’s scowl remained.
Finding sleep still a fickle friend, Rosabel once more found herself tossing and turning unable to find a path to sweet oblivion. After a small eternity, she finally threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. Pacing her room for a good ten minutes, she donned her robe and quietly sneaked out into the hall. Tiptoeing past Georgiana’s room, Rosabel found her way into the kitchen. By now familiar with the twists and turns of the house, she moved sure-footed like a mountain goat, not even lighting a candle until she reached the kitchen.