Chapter Four

 

After four days of exploring Scarlett Hall, Rose was now more familiar with her surroundings. No longer did she become lost in the multitude of wings with their winding corridors. She found that most wings no longer held interest for her once she explored them, and of all the rooms inside the house, she came to enjoy her new bedroom and the drawing room the most.

At the moment, she sat in the latter staring at an invitation from Mr. Holden Bradshaw that had arrived an hour earlier, Caroline sitting beside her tapping her chin between glances at her own invitation.

“I cannot help but wonder what friend of his I have attracted,” Caroline said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is Mr. Banner. He is a handsome fellow, even if he is a bit stuffy at times. It could also very well be Mr. Tompkins. Not knowing is exasperating.”

Rose knew neither men, but she smiled nonetheless as she placed the invitation on the table. “Whoever it is, I believe he will find himself fortunate to speak with you.”

The words made Caroline grin. “The manner in which Mr. Bradshaw stared at you the other day says that he has an admiration for you.”

“Admiration?” Rose scoffed. “I doubt rather highly it is that serious. I hardly said anything to the man.” She could not help but smile, however, for she remembered his wide appreciative grin. He had been kind and attentive, both admirable qualities a possible suitor should possess.

Caroline sighed and smoothed the skirts of her lime green gown. “I have seen enough men who have become enamored with women to know that Mr. Bradshaw most certainly had that look about him. Did you not find him handsome?”

Rose stared at the woman. She was much bolder in her questions than any of Rose’s friends in London. Never would have one asked such a personal question, for they had been trained to always maintain a ladylike appearance.

When Rose did not respond, Caroline gasped. “Do you find him repulsive?” she asked with clear surprise.

“It is not that,” Rose replied. “It is just…”

The door opened and the butler entered with a tea tray. Forbes had proven to be a pleasant and helpful man, and Rose suspected he would be someone she could go to if she needed a confidante. With Caroline and Aunt Eleanor close at hand, she doubted she would need to confide in him, but it was nice to know she had yet another person she could trust in this new environment. One could never have too many people to trust.

After Forbes poured the tea, he bowed and left the room once more.

“You must tell me if you find him handsome or repulsive,” Caroline said the moment the door clicked shut. “Such matters must be discussed among women, especially friends.”

Rose considered the woman’s words. Perhaps the ladies of Rumsbury were different from those in London. She had heard it said that country women were more open about personal topics than those in the city, and now that she was in the country, perhaps she was being rude by not discussing such things. Rude was not a characteristic for which she wished to be known!

“I must admit,” she said with a sigh, “he is handsome. I do not understand what it is about him that makes it so, but his hair is so dark and full of thick curls, I could not help but admire it.” Just speaking such private thoughts aloud made her cheeks heat, but it was a relief to voice them. “Handsome is a fine trait, but there are more important ones a man who wishes to call on me must have. He must have impeccable manners, a kind heart, and he must appreciate a woman’s handiwork—such as embroidery.”

Caroline grimaced. “You enjoy embroidery?” Why did the woman sound surprised?

“Why, yes, of course. Do not all ladies?”

Judging by Caroline’s raised eyebrows, it was not the case. “Embroidery is for women who are stuck in the house while their husbands go out and play,” the woman said with a sniff. She shook her head. “I see I must be completely blunt with you, but the man you are searching for will never be found. Men have no interest in anything a lady does. Besides how well their gown fits their body, of course, and that only before they are married.”

“That cannot be true,” Rose said. “Surely not all men are so simpleminded.”

“Mother spends an interminable amount of time working her needlework,” Caroline said, “and Father never takes any notice of it, even when she has completed it and she places it in his hands. The simple truth is that women are often used for bringing about heirs and not much more. Oh, they might be a pretty addition to the arm of any man when it comes to parties and whatnot, but once they have been married for a few years, that, too, becomes unimportant. That is why so many women have four, five, or even more children—to keep themselves entertained.”

Rose eyed the invitation. She had looked forward to attending the party to which Mr. Bradshaw had invited her, for she hoped to find a gentleman worthy of courting her. Now, however, she was finding the idea less appealing. If what Caroline said was true, Rose wanted no part of it.

Caroline stood and yawned. “I believe I am going to nap. Would you like to go to the gardens with me this afternoon?”

“That would be lovely,” Rose replied.

After Caroline left, Rose brought out the basket of needlework that Aunt Eleanor had given her. Selecting a spool of red thread and taking out the handkerchief she had begun the day before, she settled back into her seat, her fingers soon working the needle deftly at the material. Regardless of the project, the repetitive nature of embroidery always allowed her to work out life’s problems.

Now, as she considered Caroline’s words, her stitches quickened, and soon she became overwhelmed as to what to do. The life of a married lady raising a gaggle of children while her husband ignored her held no appeal whatsoever, nor did the life of a spinster. How had her future turned into something so bleak?

Then another thought came to mind. Her mother never married after her father died, the woman stating that she could never love another man. If each woman had only one man out of so many who could make her happy, what if she were one of the few who had none waiting to meet her? Was that not how spinsters came into being?

“Rose?”

Rose let out a small yelp and looked up to see her aunt standing beside her. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, she had not heard the woman enter the room. “Forgive me,” Rose said breathlessly as she held her hand to her breast. “You startled me.”

Her aunt smiled as she took the seat beside Rose. “Where is Caroline?”

“She went upstairs to take a nap,” Rose replied. “I thought I would complete some of the needlework I started yesterday.”

“You appeared worried when I entered. Is everything all right?”

Untruths never came easy to Rose—unless someone’s feelings would be needlessly hurt by it of course—and as she looked at the woman who was now her guardian, she could not find it in her heart to lie. “Caroline and I had a conversation concerning men as well as what is expected of a woman once she is married.”

“I see,” her aunt said with a small smile. “And what conclusion did you draw from that conversation?”

Rose sighed as she set aside the embroidery. “Is it true that I should resign myself to being left to mind the children while my husband goes about gallivanting like a child? She led me to believe that he will ignore anything I find interesting, such as my needlework. To make matters worse, he will no longer love me once we are married, if he had in the first place. Am I doomed to be nothing more than a broodmare who is expected to produce his children? And am I expected to have as many children as I can in order to stop me from dying of boredom?” She knew the barrage of questions was inconsiderate of her, but she had to blink back tears as she felt an overwhelming sense of the world falling down around her.

Her aunt took her hand and gave it a gentle pat. “First of all, it is not wise to take marriage advice from a woman who is not yet married.”

“So, what Caroline said is untrue?”

“I must admit, some of what she said is true. However, it all depends on how one views marriage.”

Rose stared at her aunt in confusion. “I am afraid I do not understand.” She sighed. “Perhaps I should consider living the life of a spinster.”

With a small laugh, her aunt squeezed her hand. “Let me explain before you make such a drastic decision. If you are married and your husband went on a fox hunt, would you find his recalling of the hunt to be interesting? Would you enjoy viewing the pelts?”

Rose shook her head in disgust. “Not at all. I find it a barbaric custom and have no interest in such things.”

“Well, most men think the same about embroidery,” her aunt said. “It is not that they do not want you to enjoy such an activity, but they do not find such pastimes appealing. Men have their interests and women have theirs, but neither is more advantageous, or less significant, than the other. It simply depends from whose viewpoint the opinion comes.”

Rose smiled. What her aunt said made sense. Then another thought came to her. “What of children? It will be my duty to raise them, will it not?”

“Would you not wish to? Or would you prefer to have a nanny and then a governess? More than likely you will have a choice in the matter. I chose to raise my children myself, as did your mother, but many ladies hire others to take care of the children.”

After a moment of thought, Rose sighed. “I would love to raise my own children. Mother never left me to be raised by a governess, and we have a very close relationship. I have often considered having several children, but Caroline says that, besides the need for an heir, men only want women to have a lot of children in order to keep their wives occupied and out of their way.”

Her aunt laughed. “I can assure you that, although raising children is not an easy task, the children are not a means to relieve boredom.”

It was as if a weight was lifted from Rose’s shoulders, although she had one remaining question. “Is it true that some couples, even those who are married, never find love?”

When her aunt blinked at the question, Rose wished she had not asked it. However, the woman did not balk. “Sadly, many do not marry for love. Some do find it later, but others do not. There are still many who subscribe to outdated ideals about marriage, unfortunately.”

“Well, I will only marry for love,” Rose said with a firm nod. “That is a worthy goal, is it not?”

“I believe it is a wonderful goal, and one I believe you will likely achieve.”

Rose gave a relieved sigh and hugged her aunt. “I can see why Mother and you are friends. You share the same wisdom. I only wish she had found love like you did with Lord Lambert.”

Her aunt gave her a small smile and rose from the couch. “In all this you must remain patient. Love will come but typically when you least expect it.”

“Thank you,” Rose said, returning the woman’s smile.

When her aunt left the room, Rose returned to her embroidery. As she made the intricate stitches, her thoughts returned to marriage. She would marry for love and have as many children as she and her husband saw fit. Caroline may have her opinions, but as her aunt said, the woman was yet unmarried.

According to her mother, Aunt Eleanor had been married to a remarkable man, and together they had lived a wonderful life until his death. If Rose could be blessed with a similar life, all would be well with the world.

***

Rose took one last look in the standing mirror. She had hoped to wear one of the many new dresses her aunt had purchased for her earlier in the week, but none would be ready before the party to which Mr. Bradshaw had invited her. Therefore, she had donned a gown of light blue trimmed with white lace and a white underskirt. How she wished her mother were here rather than Paris, for the woman had always said this was her favorite of all Rose owned.

“What a gorgeous gown,” Caroline said as she entered the room. “It makes mine look so plain.”

What Caroline wore could never be considered plain by any sense of the word. Emerald green in color with patterns of yellow sequins, it sported a deep neckline that made Rose blush. Did the woman know that she was showing an abundance of cleavage? “Your dress is very lovely,” she said, which was the truth. She did not mention that she thought it was much too revealing for her taste.

Caroline walked over to the vanity table and picked up a perfume bottle. It had been there upon Rose’s arrival and more than likely belonged to the previous occupant. “I am hoping to attract a gentleman this evening,” she said. “Perhaps this will help.” She placed a generous amount on each wrist, behind each ear, and in the hollow of her throat before offering Rose the bottle. “You should use it, as well. Men cannot resist wild myrtle, or so I have been told.”

Rose took the bottle with great reluctance and dabbed the smallest amount to her neck and wrists before replacing the bottle.

When she turned back toward Caroline, she almost gasped. Had the neckline on the woman’s gown lowered somehow? Perhaps she should warn her friend. “You know,” she said, “there is no need to expose yourself to find a gentleman.” Gathering a shawl from the trunk at the end of the bed, she wrapped it around Caroline’s shoulders.

Rather than thanking her, however, Caroline scowled.

“Have I said something wrong?” Rose asked.

“I am not a woman of loose morals,” Caroline said, her eyes rimmed with tears. “You do not understand. I have tried to engage gentlemen in conversation, but ultimately, they ignore me. I am so desperate, I am willing to do whatever it takes to gain any man’s attention.”

The poor girl! Rose thought as she embraced Caroline. “I am certain that, in the coming months, you will find a man worthy of your heart. However, you must be patient for him to come along. Do not do something that will bring about the wrong type of man.”

Caroline gave a heavy sigh. “You are right,” she said. “I must admit, you might be a bore, but you are quite intelligent in some matters.”

“I am considered a bore?” Rose asked, shocked at the revelation. “Are my conversational skills that poor?”

“No,” Caroline said. She even had the decency to blush. “I am sorry. It is that you enjoy embroidery, you hesitate to drink brandy or to engage in anything that might be considered daring. I did not mean to be hurtful.”

Although what Caroline said was indeed harsh, Rose nodded. She had never considered herself boring, and the prospect of being adventurous did send a shiver of excitement down her spine. Eying the perfume bottle, she picked it up once again, her heart racing.

“I will prove I am not boring,” she said. Pulling the neckline of her gown down a fraction, she dabbed a small amount of perfume to the top of each breast. She may as well be showing her entire legs at this point!

Caroline laughed. “I see I was wrong about you,” she said. “You are not a bore. Perhaps we can do daring things over the coming months. I will be honest, I thought my time here would be dull.”

Rose gulped. Everything in her upbringing told her to refuse anything daring Caroline suggested. Even considering anything outside of propriety made her skin crawl. Yet, for some reason she could not fathom, she found herself nodding in agreement.