THE NEXT morning, after a leisurely bath for two in Kit’s enormous tub—which Rose decided she could get used to—followed by breakfast with her sisters, he walked her up the hill to the pawnshop.
The night shouldn’t have changed anything, but somehow it had. She’d loved Kit desperately before she’d shared his bed, but now she felt a new closeness. And she also sensed a sadness buried within him, a sadness that spilled over onto herself. She wanted more than ever for him to make things right with his sister.
“I’ll wait out here,” he said when they arrived.
“I want you two to talk.”
“I’ll be here if she’s willing.”
Bent over a tray full of rings, Ellen looked up when the bell jingled. “Rose!” She came hurrying out from behind the counter.
Rose hugged her tight, then set her away. “You look good.” Beneath her simple peach dress, Ellen’s stomach barely looked rounded. “How are you feeling?”
“I haven’t puked in at least half an hour.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not that bad.” Ellen grinned. “I make up for it at night; I vow and swear, I’ve never been so hungry.”
Violet had never felt sick when carrying her children; Rose could only hope it would be the same for her. Her hand went to her own abdomen as she suddenly realized she could already be with child. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.
Quickly she held out the book, relieved to be handing it over. “Here. Take it. And here are the translations.” She pulled a few sheets of folded paper from her drawstring purse.
“Oh, thank you!” Ellen opened them and looked at the last one. Her eyes widened as she read a stanza. “I didn’t know this was quite so…” She slanted a glance to where her husband sat in a corner industriously going over paperwork, then back down to the translated words. “‘With my legs around your neck,’” she quoted under her breath, “‘somehow you’ve got your yard buried inside my…’ Mercy me. I’m not certain Thomas is ready for this.”
Ellen didn’t look ready for it, either. “Everyone at court found it entirely too intriguing,” Rose told her. “But Kit just laughed.”
Ellen refolded the pages and tucked them into the book. “I hope you two will be happy,” she said formally.
“You are coming to our wedding?”
“No.” She gazed down at the tray of rings on the counter. “No, I’m not.”
“Ellen, if you don’t attend, then someday you’ll be very sorry. You cannot refuse to speak to your brother forever.”
Ellen slid a garnet ring onto her finger, then pulled it off. “I cannot imagine that he cares.”
Rose waited until she looked up. “You know he does.”
“Then he should give me my dowry. He has no right to withhold it just because I didn’t marry a man of his choosing.”
At this point, Rose suspected Kit would hand over everything he owned if his sister would just stop this nonsense. Neither he nor Ellen would budge first. She wanted to knock their two heads together.
But Ellen was just plain wrong. “He has every right. He earned that money.”
“I earned it, too,” Ellen shot back, her eyes as green as Kit’s when he was upset. “I suffered for that money every bit as much he did. More. My parents were dead, and my big brother left me with a little old lady. True, she gave me nice clothes and made sure I learned to read and write. But she also expected me to wait on her hand and foot. Whenever Kit bothered to visit, I used to beg him to take me with him, away from there, anywhere…” Her voice dropped, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “He promised me that someday I’d live a better life, and I figure it’s my due.”
Kit considered Lady St. Vincent his savior, but there were two sides to every story. To Ellen, apparently the baroness had been a prison guard. Still, Rose couldn’t see where Kit had had much of a choice.
“What do you expect he could have done, Ellen? How could he have cared for you? Supported you? He was sixteen with no skills, but a grand opportunity. If he’d stayed with you in the village of Hawkridge, what do you imagine he’d be doing today? Do you think he’d be an architect? Do you reckon he’d have managed to save eleven thousand pounds for his beloved little sister? And he certainly couldn’t have brought you to school, and later to Oxford—”
“I know,” Ellen ground out miserably. Her jaw was tight, her cheeks pink. “He had no choice; I know it. But that didn’t make it easy for me.”
Rose laid a hand on her arm. “Of course it didn’t.”
“I earned that money. I mean to have it. He could dictate my life when I was a child, but not anymore.”
“How on earth do you expect Kit to understand how you’re feeling if you don’t talk to him? This is childish, Ellen. You’re a married woman, an expectant mother. Try to see his side. And you must come to our wedding. If not for Kit, do it for me.”
Tears welled in Ellen’s eyes. “I cannot. If he doesn’t love me enough to give me my dowry even though I defied him, I cannot.”
Rose’s gaze strayed out the window to where Kit was pacing across the street, clearly as miserable as his sister. She wished he would just give Ellen the money and end this painful stalemate, but unlike his sister, she could see his side, too.
Her heart went out to him. “I’m sorry, Ellen, but I cannot beg you anymore, either. I pray you change your mind,” she said and went outside to join him.
Kit whirled when he saw her. “How is she?” he immediately asked.
“Healthy, save for some expected sickness in the mornings. And the babe is well, too. But she still doesn’t want to see you.”
His jaw tensed as he took her hand to start the walk back down the hill to his house, where Violet and Lily were waiting to return home.
She squeezed his fingers. “Do you know, I believe Ellen’s pregnancy may be affecting her thinking and her feelings.”
“Whatever would make you believe that?”
“It’s common enough for increasing women to be weepy and such.” He didn’t look convinced. “In any case, Ellen is young. Surely when her child is born she will grow up quickly. In the meantime,” she added carefully, “if you want her at our wedding, you only have to give her—”
“I cannot,” he interrupted. “I won’t buy my sister’s love.”
Rose held her tongue as they walked, listening to the sounds of horses clopping past, children playing chase, and a woman in one of the tall houses scolding her poor sod of a husband.
After a while, Kit sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you for trying.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” she said softly.
She hadn’t tried hard enough. Someway, somehow, she would come up with a plan to get these two to make up.
Kit had witnessed his sister’s wedding, and Ellen would be there for his.