Rose’s heart was pounding in her breast. Had she miscalculated and gone to the wrong room? Thankful nothing seemed to faze Jane’s youngest brother, she stepped back, about to pull the door shut, when she heard the deep timbre of Aiden’s voice from within the room.
Pushing the door open a little further, Rose peered in and then looked towards the bed. Aiden was propped against the pillows, a cup of tea on the table beside him and, unaware of her presence yet, seemed to be explaining what a drone was.
Charles winked at her, then turned to address Aiden. ‘But does one not flee for one’s life, for fear of this flying contraption giving chase?’
Aiden shook his head. ‘No, no. Some consider them a nuisance, but they are not particularly feared and—’ He glanced in her direction, then blinked. ‘Er, Miss Wallace. Good morning.’
Rose was speechless, but she stepped into the room and closed the door. There were dark circles under Aiden’s eyes and he was a little paler than normal, but he seemed so much better than she had expected.
Recalling where she was, Rose curtseyed hurriedly to Charles. ‘Good morning to you both. Captain Austen, I hope you will forgive the intrusion. I—’ She stopped, looking from Jane’s brother to Aiden and back again. ‘I did not—’ Warmth filled her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. How embarrassing was this? The captain must think her positively wanton!
‘Do not concern yourself, Miss Wallace. Jane told me she had shown you an alternative way to satisfy your curiosity with regard to your friend.’ Charles smiled at Aiden and walked over to the tray on the dresser to deposit his cup, then turned around. ‘You will forgive me if I remain? I think it in the best interests of you both for there to be a chaperone present.’
Rose threw him a grateful look, then flew across the room to the other side of the bed, where she took Aiden’s good hand.
‘I can’t believe how much better you look. Are you in much pain? Did you sleep at all?’
Though his demeanour was reassuring, his eyes were somewhat dulled, but she suspected that was the after-effects of the laudanum.
‘I believe I slept.’ He smiled, then winced. ‘Sorry, face is a bit stiff this morning. I might just have been knocked out by the drugs, though.’ He nodded towards the injured side of his body. ‘The pain is bearable at the moment. I’m told Mr Lyford is returning later this morning. Hopefully they can give me something a little less disorientating today. I believe I entertained him greatly, not least expounding on the benefits of aerial photography for an archaeological dig.’
‘I’m so… so…’ Rose sank into the chair by the bed. ‘You scared the life out of me yesterday!’
Aiden’s gaze became serious, and he squeezed her hand. ‘If I could have spared you every moment of it, I would have.’
Smiling, Rose could feel the weight of her anxiety lifting. ‘I can’t stay long, I must join the others at breakfast, but I just had to see you, to know you were okay.’ She turned to where Charles stood near the fireplace. ‘Have you seen Jane yet this morning, Captain?’
‘Indeed. She set out in the direction of the cottage, almost as the sun rose. She will return directly, I am certain.’
Rose felt a spurt of guilt. ‘I hope she didn’t get up early on my account. I was worried sick last night and getting a message to Morg— my friend seemed so important.’
Charles smiled and shook his head. ‘Do not concern yourself, ma’am. My sister is rarely to be moved by anything but the most prudent of logic. If she did not wish to walk so early, she would not have.’
With a grateful smile, Rose turned back to Aiden, but just then the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside floated through the open window, and Charles walked over to peer out.
‘Ah, we have a visitor.’ He turned around. ‘For you, I believe, Miss Wallace.’
Rose got up and hurried over to the window. Jane was crossing the gravel sweep in front of the house, and with her was Christopher Wallace. She swung around to face the room.
‘It’s my father.’ How strange those words still sounded, and yet how wonderful! ‘I should go.’
‘I will accompany you, ma’am.’ Charles took his leave of Aiden. ‘I will await you outside, Miss Wallace.’
He stepped out onto the landing, leaving the door ajar, and Rose hurried back to Aiden’s bedside.
‘We need to get you back, but—’
‘You also need time with your father.’ Aiden smiled faintly. ‘I don’t see any harm in having the singular bragging rights that my broken arm was set by authentic Regency means.’ He laughed, then winced again. ‘Sorry, sore ribs. I suppose that’s a badge I’ll have to brag about silently, as no one would believe me.’
Rose eyed his bound arm warily, then frowned. Did his fingers look swollen? ‘Is your arm feeling okay?’
‘Bit numb, to be honest, but I’d rather that than pain! Go, Rose. I’m being well looked after.’
‘Are you sure? I mean, I know I have to go, that I shouldn’t even be in the room, but—’
‘Rose, I’m sure I’ll be fine for another day if it’s what you need.’
‘It’s not what I need so much as that I would hate you to think your well-being isn’t my first priority.’
His brown eyes held hers for a moment. ‘I don’t. How could I? Who else would risk the censure of society by scurrying along the servants’ corridor to burst unannounced into a gentleman’s chamber?’ His gaze softened. ‘Only you, Rose.’
She glanced over her shoulder. The door remained ajar, and she leaned over to place a kiss on Aiden’s cheek, but he turned his head and captured her lips with his own. The sound of a throat being cleared brought a smirk to Aiden’s face as they drew apart.
‘Go, before you get into any more trouble than you already are.’
With a smile, Rose turned and hurried from the room, pausing on the threshold to blow him another kiss, before following Charles along the landing and down the stairs.
The captain excused himself once they reached the ground floor, and Rose went along to the great hall to greet her father.
‘How does the young man fare this morning, Rose?’
Casting a quick glance at Jane, Rose smiled. ‘Extremely well. Much better than I could have hoped.’
‘And I trust you heeded my words from yesterday, and took no risks with your reputation?’
She bit her lip. ‘Not entirely. I mean, I did heed your words.’ Jane made a small sound, and Rose continued. ‘I was chaperoned by Captain Austen.’
‘That is well, then. Now, I came expressly to enquire after Mr Trevellyan, but as the report of his health is so encouraging, I will own to having a second motive for my visit. My wife would like to invite you to call upon us, Rose. This morning.’
‘Oh!’ Rose stared at her father. Her relief over Aiden seeming so much better meant she could consider this invitation and all its implications with a clear mind. How challenging might it be, when only her father knew the truth about her origins?
‘I can see you are hesitant, but it is plain you wish to safely return the gentleman to a place where he can receive the best of the medical advancements we know exist in the future. If we do not grasp this opportunity, my dear, when else might you properly become known to your own sisters?’
Jane walked over to Rose’s side, and she noticed suddenly how pinched Jane’s features were. ‘You must go, Rose. The doctor will be calling later this morning, and my brothers will keep Mr Trevellyan company when he is not resting. He would not wish you to turn down such a kind invitation.’
‘Rose.’ She looked back at her father as he spoke. ‘We have Miss Jane Austen’s sanction. Will you not come? Remember, no one will have any suspicion whence you came. How could they? They will simply put any… anomaly down to you being the daughter of an eccentric man!’
Rose laughed. ‘They will find me very eccentric, I fear!’
‘Come, you must change your clothes, Rose.’ Jane took her arm, and Christopher bowed and walked over to take a seat beside the fireplace.
‘Why?’
Rolling her eyes, Jane ushered Rose towards the curtained screen. ‘One does not pay calls, especially on such august company, dressed for lounging at home.’
Glancing at her simple shift dress as they mounted the stairs, Rose smiled. Such distress and fear yesterday, and here she was contemplating the happiest of days. She must tell Morgan…
‘Jane, did you check the—’
‘Most indubitably, yet no correspondence has come from Miss Taylor.’
Rose frowned at her tone. ‘Are you…? You sound puzzled.’
They had reached Rose’s door, and Jane turned to face her. She was smiling now, and shook her head.
‘Pay me no mind.’
‘She said she would try to check for messages every day, but we can’t predict when a safe moment will come for her to lift the floorboard. If there are many visitors…’ Rose shrugged and opened the door. ‘I will write to her about Aiden later, so she doesn’t worry too much, and I’m sure there will be several notes for me by then.’
‘Indeed.’ Jane followed her into the room and walked over to the wardrobes filling one wall. ‘Hmm.’ She studied the few gowns hanging there, altered by Cassandra to fit Rose, then pulled forward a smart green one she had never yet worn. ‘This, I think, with the cream pelisse. It will compliment your hair decidedly well.’
Rose preferred not to think about her hair which, despite its recent wash, didn’t feel as it should. It felt shallow, with all that was happening, to wish for modern sanitary ware, but how she longed for a good shower and some proper shampoo!
Excited though Rose was at being able to spend more time with her father and to discover her own extended family as a result, she was a bundle of nerves as she was shown into the small drawing room at Baigens. So much so, she might well have turned tail and fled, had it not been for her father’s hand under her elbow, gently urging her forward into the room.
The collective gaze of its occupants, all of which turned to look at her, was no help in calming her, either. The ladies rose to their feet and all performed a curtsey, which Rose returned as neatly as she could.
‘Miss Wallace.’ Mrs Wallace stepped forward, a smile spreading across her face. ‘I am delighted you were able to leave the house and join us for a few hours.’
‘My dear, there is no necessity for formality. Rose is family, is she not? You may address her accordingly.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Mrs Wallace held out a hand to Rose, and she took it, allowing herself to be led over to sit on a chaise near the fireplace. ‘Olivia, please ask Williams to send in some refreshments. Christopher, my dear, we need more logs.’ The lady walked over to a wooden cupboard, extracting a key from a nearby drawer, and removed a wooden tea caddy.
Olivia and her father disappeared on their errands, and Rose’s eyes drifted around the room, taking in its warmth and comfort.
‘You are very pretty.’
Rose’s gaze flew to meet Anne’s, the easy colour filling her cheeks. ‘You are too kind.’
Anne smiled. ‘Papa is oft heard to say I am like Mama. She is kind, too.’ The young girl’s smile widened, and Rose returned it, only for it to fade as her gaze met that of Mary, who was seated beside her sister. Unless she was mistaken, the eldest daughter was not too enamoured of Rose’s arrival.
‘And do you draw or paint, Rose?’
Mrs Wallace had retaken her seat on the chaise next to Rose and, thankful to have a reason to break away from Mary’s challenging stare across the room, Rose turned in her seat.
‘Sadly, I do not.’ Rose swallowed quickly. What nineteenth-century talent might she be able to offer? To be very fond of walking was never going to suffice!
‘Do you sing or play?’ Anne had risen to her feet, and she gestured over towards a small instrument against the wall.
‘Er, I play the piano… forte. A little. But I do not sing.’
‘Why ever not?’ Mary was frowning. ‘If you do not paint or draw or sing, then what can you do?’
For a wild moment, Rose was tempted to say that she could drive a motorised conveyance, but her eye caught sight of a sewing basket near Mary’s chair, and with relief she summoned a smile. ‘I can sew. Make clothes.’
Anne giggled as she walked over to stand by her mother’s chair.
‘Hush, now, child,’ admonished Mrs Wallace, but Mary was clearly unimpressed.
‘We are all taught how to do work. That is hardly an accomplishment.’
‘Mary.’ Mr Wallace had returned with a full basket of logs and he threw the girl a warning look as he placed it beside the fireplace.
‘I do speak French. Quite well.’ Rose felt like she’d just produced a rabbit from a top hat. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
Mary, however, remained unmoved. ‘And much use it may be at present.’
Rose bit her lip. This was like being on a very odd talk show where she was failing as a guest. She sent her father an anxious look, but he smiled reassuringly at her. How could she have forgotten England was currently at war with France?
Olivia returned then, followed by a maid with an urn of hot water, and Mrs Wallace prepared the tea whilst Anne produced her book for Rose to see. Mary did not move from her seat, and although Rose was saddened by the eldest daughter’s blatant dissatisfaction with the situation, she had a hard time not finding humour in the stubborn set of her pretty mouth. How many times had Rose’s mother complained about the same expression on her face as a teenager?
‘My dear.’ Mrs Wallace smiled kindly at Rose as she passed her a cup of tea. ‘Delighted though I was to hear from Christopher of his joy over your discovery, you must imagine our astonishment. We all thought you to have perished as a child.’ Her expression softened even further. ‘I hope… I trust you were well cared for in whatever home you were raised?’
Pushing aside her life with her mother, Rose smiled as reassuringly as she could. ‘I was indeed well cared for, ma’am, and properly educated.’
A delicate snort from Mary earned her a warning look from her father, and Rose hoped the subject might change.
‘I have assured Louisa our separation was one beyond both our abilities to overcome, my dear.’ Christopher smiled warmly at Rose. Had he given her the ghost of a wink? ‘She comprehends that your mother is… not of this world.’
‘Oh!’ Rose took a hasty sip of her tea.
‘Let us be done with such melancholy memories, my dear. I am certain there are more cheerful topics we can canvass.’
‘Yes, of course. Tell me, Rose, Christopher tells us you reside in Bath.’ Mrs Wallace offered a plate of biscuits, but Rose declined. ‘And do you have a companion there? Has an establishment been set up for you in the absence of both of your parents?’
Rose blinked. ‘I… er, no. I live alone.’
Mrs Wallace’s eyes widened. ‘Alone? But child, how can this be?’ She turned to her husband, who stood near one of the windows. ‘Christopher! You must do something! It is not fitting for a single young woman to be living alone, and certainly not in a city such as Bath!’
Rose wanted to bury her head in her hands. For days, she felt she’d managed a pretty credible impression of being from the era. So why, oh why could she not make a good showing in front of her family? She met her father’s gaze across the room, and he smiled. He didn’t seem too bothered by her slip up, and turned to speak to his wife to diffuse the topic.
Sitting back in her seat with a sigh, Rose chewed on her lip. No, she shouldn’t have said that, but she really didn’t want to lie to them unless she had to. Every hour, every minute since she had reunited with her father, the situation became less of a fantasy and more of a reality. She didn’t want to play act for the people in this room. She wanted, as insane as it might seem, to know them as authentically as possible, and for them to know her.
Anne came to sit beside her. ‘Are you lonely? I could not live without my sisters around me.’
Rose placed her cup on a nearby side table. ‘I have longed for a brother or sister all my life.’
‘And yet we have not.’ Mary took a sip from her cup. ‘For we have ample, and require no more.’
‘Mary, dear, that is unkind.’
The girl had the grace to look a little abashed at her mother’s reprimand, but it soon passed as Mary fixed her gaze on Rose again. ‘You are quite old, Miss Wallace… Rose. Yet you are not wed.’
‘Mary! That is quite sufficient from you!’ Mrs Wallace walked over and took Rose’s hand and patted it. ‘You are quite the beauty, my dear. I am sure you have had your share of attention.’
Thankful for the lady’s intervention, Rose summoned a smile. To have such marked comments directed at her was getting unsettling. She just needed a little time with Mary to cut through the teenage angst Rose’s arrival had caused… only time was running out.