Rosalyn awoke late. It had been two weeks since the children had arrived, and Rosalyn had kept busy, making sure everything went smoothly. Although she hadn’t seen much of the duke, she had been making a mental list of things she wanted to talk with both him and Geddes about, one of which was the children’s schooling. She guessed that they would have to hire tutors or send the children to Ayr, but she was certain her husband did not want that.
She hurried from her bed as the queasiness rose in her throat and just made it to the commode before she experienced her first nausea of the day.
Fletcher hadn’t shared her bed since the arrival of his siblings, and although she was curious as to why he hadn’t, she refused to dwell on it when she had so many other things to worry about. At any rate, her sleep had been interrupted with wild dreams that awakened her frequently, so it was just as well that she was alone. Or so she told herself.
She stood at the commode and studied her reflection in the mirror. She was pale and there were mauve smudges under her eyes. She knew that these things would pass as they had before. And she also knew that Fletcher had gotten her with child that very first night when, in his fevered sleep, he had believed she was someone else.
Once her morning ailments had passed, she dressed quickly and hurried to Geddes’s room. She knocked and he told her to enter.
She poked her head in. “How are you this morning?”
He was in his dressing gown and trousers, sitting in a chair by the window. Two weeks of rest had done him the world of good. “I’m fine.”
She stepped into his room. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“A biscuit and jam would be nice,” he said.
“I’ll bring it right up.” She turned to leave.
“Rosalyn?”
She glanced back at him. “Yes?”
Geddes appeared to weigh his words carefully. “Is it true that we now have no physician on the island?”
Rosalyn closed the door and walked toward him. “It’s true. The old sot left while you were away.”
“Then Mrs. Begley will be quite busy, won’t she?”
“I dare say she will,” Rosalyn answered, cautiously hopeful. “Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking…well…” He coughed and cleared his throat. “I, that is His Grace and I were thinking that perhaps she needs a bigger space to treat her patients.”
Feeling a bump of anticipation, Rosalyn eased herself into a chair beside him. “You…and His Grace?”
“Well, yes. I dare say the doctor’s old office space is empty, and it seems a pity to let it simply sit there, unoccupied. Do you…um…do you think she would consider using it, instead of her own home? And even if, at some time down the road, we get another physician, the space is quite ample for both of them.”
“And whose decision will that be?”
Geddes looked at her, puzzled. “His Grace’s, of course. And perhaps Mrs. Begley’s, considering she’ll be the only healer on the island for a while.”
Rosalyn felt a surge of excitement, but contained it. As if mulling it over, she tapped two fingers against her lips. “Would she be required to pay rent?”
“I…we haven’t discussed that yet. First we wanted to see if she was amenable to the situation,” he answered, his voice gruff.
Rosalyn wanted to yelp for joy, jump up and down; instead she said, “Perhaps you should talk it over with her, as you have with me. I can’t say what her reaction would be, but I can’t imagine what reason she would have to turn down such an offer.”
Geddes cleared his throat again and scraped a hand over the stubble at his chin. “Yes, well. I’ll get on it soon.”
Rosalyn stood and moved toward the door. “I’ll bring you some breakfast.”
Once she was on the stairs she nearly flew down them, her entire demeanor changed from earlier in the morning when she’d felt so wretched. But when she went into the dining room, she found it empty and one of the kitchen girls was clearing the table.
“Everyone has eaten already?” Rosalyn asked, surprised.
The girl curtseyed. “Only His Grace and the boys, mum. Can I get you some breakfast?”
Rosalyn waved her off. “I can get it myself, dear. Thank you. But could you put together a tray for Mr. Gordon? He’s hungry for biscuits and jam this morning.”
The girl curtseyed again, removed the tray of dirty breakfast dishes, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Rosalyn poured herself some coffee, took a sip, and felt her stomach lurch. No more of that for a few months, she decided.
After preparing a cup of tea, she heard laughter coming from outside. With her cup and saucer in hand, she went to the window. The sight that met her eyes surprised her so she nearly spilled her tea.
Her husband, Duncan, Gavin, and Evan, were planting new rose bushes in her garden! They all worked feverishly, as if they had a timetable to which they adhered. She watched them work, recalling her horrid behavior nearly two weeks before. Until now she had avoided the subject, her nerves as scattered as the ground they had destroyed. How would she apologize? She had ranted and raved like an asylum lunatic. Now, here they all were, planting and digging, hoeing and raking, and even if the plants weren’t precisely where she would have put them, she couldn’t fault them for trying.
She turned from the window just as Kerry and Dorcas Blessing descended the stairs. The two of them had, Rosalyn decided, become as close as peas in a pod. Perhaps it was time for the overprotective chaperone to say her farewells. Rosalyn would look into it, and happily so. Once out from under Miss Blessing’s wing, Kerry might just turn to Rosalyn, and Rosalyn thought it couldn’t be too soon. The longer the woman stayed, the harder it would be for Kerry to adjust to life on Hedabarr.
Miss Blessing nodded to Rosalyn as they passed, but Kerry breezed by her as if she were invisible.
“Do you two have plans today?” Rosalyn asked politely.
The chaperone gave her a rare smile. “We had hoped to go into the village. I’m running out of a few essentials and thought I could replenish my supply.”
Yes, thought Rosalyn, it was time for the dear woman to bid the island and all its inhabitants farewell. “I would think you would be anxious to return to America, Miss Blessing. Surely you have family there who miss you.”
Miss Blessing unfolded a napkin and placed it on Kerry’s lap. “No, I’m quite alone.” She looked up abruptly as the serving girl entered. “Bring us a full breakfast, and make sure it isn’t cold. Yesterday I nearly got a chill from the shirred eggs.”
Rosalyn bristled.
The young girl glanced at Rosalyn, her eyes wide.
“Lucy, go ahead. I’m sure what you bring them will be fine.”
The girl curtseyed and left the dining room. When she was gone, Rosalyn said, “I don’t appreciate your tone with the help, Miss Blessing.”
The woman scoffed. “She’s just a servant.”
“She’s a young girl in training. It’s hard enough to keep these girls from running off to the mainland. We don’t need them leaving because they’re treated poorly.”
“I beg to differ. It seems to me that if they work under a stern hand, they will learn never to take advantage.”
Rosalyn pressed her lips together and then said, “So, you have experience in training servants?”
Dorcas Blessing backed down. “Well, no, but—”
“Then I would appreciate it if you would not attempt to train mine.”
Rosalyn left the dining room, and as she was making her way upstairs, she heard Kerry say, “She’s mean.”
Rosalyn stormed into Geddes’s room, taking him by surprise.
He had just finished shaving and was wiping his face with a towel. She exhaled loudly. “When is that woman going back to America?”
Her brother frowned. “The chaperone? We haven’t booked passage yet—”
“Well, you’d best do so before I take a broom to her backside,” Rosalyn interrupted.
Geddes appeared confused. “What has she done?”
“What hasn’t she done? She’s taken to bossing the servants and I won’t have that. Not here, not ever. They answer to me and certainly don’t need a sharp-tongued upstart telling them what to do.”
Cautious, Geddes asked, “What else?”
“Kerry is completely dependent on her. The girl doesn’t make a move without her, and she ignores me like I don’t exist. This morning, the woman even placed Kerry’s napkin on her lap, as if she were four years old instead of twelve.”
“I’ll speak with His Grace—”
“Please do,” Rosalyn interrupted again. “The way I’m feeling at this moment, I wouldn’t want to approach him on the subject.”
She marched toward the door.
“Rosalyn?”
Turning, she snapped, “What?”
“Where’s my breakfast?”
Exasperated, Rosalyn said, “Lucy is bringing it up. And for heaven’s sake, don’t shout at her if your biscuit is cold.”
“Can I shout at her if my biscuit is too warm?”
Rosalyn raised one eyebrow. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, brother, it never has.”
• • •
Later, after she had checked all of the bedchambers to make sure they were in order, she went downstairs and stepped into the library. To her surprise, Gavin sat in the overstuffed chair by the window, reading. He looked up when she entered and gave her a shy smile.
“I hope you don’t mind if I’m in here,” he began.
“Certainly not,” Rosalyn said. “This room doesn’t get used enough and I don’t believe half of these books have ever been off the shelves.”
Changing the subject, she said, “Gavin, I must apologize for my awful behavior—over the roses, I mean.” She shook her head and gave him a wan smile. “I shouldn’t have overreacted. I’m so very sorry. You must have wondered what kind of shrew your brother had married.”
Gavin gave her another shy smile. He had a crescent-shaped dimple in his left cheek and his eyes were a startling shade of blue, even indoors. Because he was so much more subdued and never seemed to have cause to complain, he hadn’t drawn a lot of attention to himself. But Rosalyn could see now that he would become a very handsome man. “You had every right to be mad. Fletcher was sorry the minute it happened and told us afterwards that he had deserved your anger. He said he knew better, but was so happy to have us here, he didn’t think about anything else.”
She went to where he sat and perched on the arm of the chair. “Oh, Gavin, I’m happy you’re here, too. Really, I couldn’t be more pleased, and I want you all to feel comfortable here, for this is your home. I insist on that,” she added, smiling slyly.
“I think we do—at least Duncan and I do. As for Kerry, well…”
Rosalyn nodded. “I understand. Can you keep a secret?”
His eyes brightened. “Sure.”
“I can’t wait for Miss Blessing to board that ship and be on her way back to America.”
Gavin chuckled, amused. “She has a way of making Kerry believe every word she says. And that surprises me because Kerry usually has a mind of her own.”
“I think…I hope that once the chaperone is gone, Kerry will begin to warm up to me a little bit,” Rosalyn murmured.
“She’s kind of headstrong, I guess, but she’s okay. Before Grandfather died, he taught her to cook. She was only nine. After he died, she somehow kept us fed until we moved in with her relatives.”
“Where did you learn to read?”
“In school. Fletcher insisted that we go, even if he wasn’t there. That’s what Grandfather told us, anyway. Duncan and I went, but Kerry didn’t go after her third year. She was busy caring for Grandfather. And us. That didn’t keep her from stealing my books from time to time. I’d find them in her bed, under the bed, and once I even found my History of the Roman Empire in a dry dishpan under a shelf with a cloth over it, like she was hiding it from me.”
“She had a pretty big burden for a little girl,” Rosalyn mused, her feelings for the child softening.
“But I don’t think she resented it,” Gavin answered. “She would do anything to make Fletcher happy.”
She left the boy to his reading and stepped out into the hall. She checked the noon and evening menus with the kitchen staff and then felt the need to lie down. The pregnancy was wearing her out and she had months to go. She thought she might see her husband around somewhere, but everything was quiet and his rooms were empty. Not that she expected him to be lolling about inside, but they had never been as far apart as they were now, with the children here. She had certainly been relegated to fourth on his list of priorities. Not that she blamed him for that. She knew what they had together wasn’t what fairy tales were made of.
She stepped into her chamber and closed the door behind her. So, then, why was she even thinking about it? It was probably because of her mood swings. One minute she wanted to throw herself into his arms, and the next she wanted to throw something at him. Or throw up. One day all she thought about was the way he had seduced her and made her feel wanted, and the next day she knew it was all probably just because he was a man and had needs and he was legally allowed to bed her.
She crossed the room and drew the heavy curtains against the afternoon sun. Yawning, she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed, drawing a warm comforter over her. Within moments, she was asleep.
• • •
Fletcher stepped into the dimly lit room and saw his wife curled up on the bed. He went to the bedside and stared down, studying her. She had smudges of color beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Her sweet mouth was open slightly as she breathed, and one hand was curled into a fist, under her chin.
This was not like her at all. She never slept during the day; she was always busy with one chore or another. And he believed he knew why this had changed. He put the gift box he was carrying on the table and then sank into one of the chairs near the bed.
After discovering the bunting, he had begun to watch her carefully. At one point, Rosalyn was talking with one of the housemaids. Her hands automatically went to the small of her back as she spoke, as if there were discomfort there. He continued to study her, and saw how little she ate, only picking at her food. He had noticed her paleness, too, and the tiredness in her eyes.
Since he’d come here, she’d done everything for him. Married him to keep the fortune in the family. Kept his household together. Welcomed his family into her heart as if it were her own. And lastly, carried his heir. Was there anything in this for her, except a child to love?
Maybe that was enough, considering her tragic history. He wanted it to be more, but how could he do that if all she felt for him was gratitude? And there were days when he felt she didn’t even have much of that for him.
She stirred and sighed, rolling onto her back, exposing the soft white flesh at her neck.
He felt his own stirrings and wished he could crawl in beside her and draw her to him, make her want him. But he was so conflicted. Now that Duncan, Gavin, and Kerry were here, were he and Rosalyn to have a companionable relationship and nothing else?
He couldn’t force her to care for him, much less love him. But he knew there was something in her that made him want to protect her. And maybe he already loved her, he didn’t know. Anything other than familial love wasn’t something he’d had much experience with.
Geddes had told him about Rosalyn’s need to get the chaperone off the island, so Fletcher had made the arrangements immediately. He, too, had noticed how the woman guarded Kerry, keeping her from getting too close to Rosalyn. Or so it appeared. As much as he loved his sister, he knew she needed a firm yet loving and honest hand. That person was his wife, not some paid-for chaperone.
Like it or not, Dorcas Blessing would be out of Kerry’s life by the end of the week.