Rosa and William were to be married three weeks hence in a small ceremony in the chapel at Ashurst Park.
William managed to find his way to Fountains Lodge most evenings before Dhanu’s bedtime. These were light-hearted occasions when games that involved everyone were played and Dhanu’s laughter rang through the house. William’s gaze would collide with Rosa’s pleasure-filled eyes. It was amazing how easily she had bonded with Dhanu—she was amazing. A game was in progress when each of them had to pretend to be an animal and the others had to guess what it was. Rosa’s dreadful imitation of a tiger had been guessed by Dhanu and now it was William’s turn. He had everyone guessing and whatever he was meant to be he was very convincing. Unable to make out what he was supposed to be they gave up—all except Dhanu, who went to him and said in a very low voice, ‘Are you a monster?’
William dragged him onto his knee, fighting back a laugh as he made the scariest monster face and spoke in a deep voice. ‘I certainly am and I am going eat you up.’
Dhanu made a sound that could be described as either a scream or a giggle and scrambled from his knee, racing across the room to Rosa and hiding behind her, his laughing face appearing every few seconds from behind her skirts.
His eyes warm with humour, William watched him, before focusing his attention on Rosa. Something in the way she bent down and hugged Dhanu, telling him he need not be scared of the monster while she was there to protect him, so charming in her laughter, so naturally generous with the boy, made him achingly aware of her as a woman.
When Dhanu left with Mishka to go to bed, Rosa walked with him to the door.
‘I’m happy to know monsters are welcome at Fountains Lodge.’
She laughed softly. ‘Happy monsters are always welcome. Dhanu loves your teasing and he gets so excited when he knows you are coming.’
‘I look forward to coming. The evenings have a tendency to drag and I look forward to the company.’
Rosa’s heartbeat quickened as she watched him ride away, disappointed that he hadn’t tried to repeat the kiss that had sealed their betrothal.
The day before the marriage ceremony was to take place, William received a weary traveller from India, who had arrived that morning. His name was Ahmet Pandit, Tipu’s most trusted servant and well known to William. He had been born in the palace and claimed privileges accorded to none other of Tipu’s servants. His dark face and the sound of the swift, familiar speech revived memories of the country William would always look upon as his home. William received him with some concern, for he knew he would not have travelled to England unless it was of a serious nature.
‘I don’t understand what you are doing here, Ahmet,’ he said when they were comfortably ensconced in the drawing room. He looked at him with some concern. His face was drawn, his eyes bloodshot. ‘You look tired. Are you feeling well?’
‘It’s been a long journey, Sahib. I am not a good sailor, I’m afraid.’
‘Then you must rest here. How is my good friend Tipu? Well, I hope.’
‘It grieves me to tell you that I am the bearer of sad tidings. My master fell ill of a fatal sickness soon after you left. He did not live more than two days.’
William stared at him in shock. This was indeed a bitter blow. Everything wavered before him. He gripped the back of the nearest chair to steady himself and spoke in a breathless whisper. ‘Dead? Tipu? It’s not possible. Good Lord! He was perfectly all right when I last saw him.’ The words were barely audible, but the horror in them and the shock was unmistakable. ‘How?’
‘It was poison.’
‘Poison?’ William repeated, unable to believe it. ‘But—who on earth would want to poison Tipu? For what reason?’
‘The Rajah is quite beside himself with grief over his brother’s death. It was his wife, the Rani, who poisoned him. Because of his closeness to her husband, she hated Tipu and the fact that he was against her.’
William tried without success to hide his shock, horror and dismay. ‘And the Rani?’
‘Although the poison may not have been administered by her hand, it was certain that she contrived it. She wept—swore she knew nothing about it. The Rajah did not believe her—not when it came to the murder of his brother.’
‘What was her punishment?’
‘Banishment. The Rajah sent her back to her father in shame.’
‘And her sons?’
‘They are his sons, too. They will remain at the palace.’
‘So, Ahmet, you came all this way to tell me this.’
‘No—not exactly. I have come for the Prince, Dhanu. His father misses him. He realises why Tipu did what he did—how he feared for the boy. The Rajah was so blinded by his devotion for his wife that he could not see what she was doing.’
‘He never was capable of distinguishing between friends and enemies.’
‘Now the danger has been removed he wants him to return. With three sons his succession is secure.’
‘While the Rani was at the palace her arms were far reaching. If anything had happened to the Rajah, she would no longer have enjoyed the high status as his wife. To secure her position further, Dhanu had to be replaced by one of her own sons. She knew Tipu had asked me to take Dhanu away. She sent two of her henchmen to England to kill the boy. I believe one of them to be her brother Kamal Kapoor. Already one attempt has been made on Dhanu’s life.’
‘This I did not know, but it does not surprise me. I know Kamal Kapoor. He is a cruel, ambitious man who will stop at nothing to achieve his aim. If you are correct and he is one of the men, then Dhanu’s life is in grave danger. Where are these men?’
‘Unfortunately I have no idea. They were seen briefly in Ashurst village. I have made discreet enquiries, but they seem to have vanished into thin air.’
‘Will you let me take Dhanu back to India?’
‘I cannot stop you, Ahmet—nor would I want to. If his father has summoned his return, then that is what he must do.’
‘I have letters for you—one from the Rajah and one from Tipu. It was important to him that he wrote to you before he died. You will read them. Everything is explained. The Rajah is grateful to you for keeping his son safe—you will see how grateful when you read the letter.’ Getting to his feet, he passed the letters to William.
William quickly scanned the Rajah’s letter, unable to believe his generosity when he saw the large amount of money he had gifted to him as his gratitude for taking care of his son at a difficult time. The letter from Tipu was an emotive one. With not long to live and knowing of his friend’s struggle to save his estate, he had bequeathed an equally astounding sum of money.
Waiting a moment for it all to sink in and what it would mean to his future, raising his eyes, William looked at Ahmet, meeting his quiet gaze. ‘Do you know what is written in the letters?’
Ahmet nodded. ‘Tipu and the Rajah did me the honour of reading them to me before they were sealed, so that I should realise how necessary it was to reach you quickly. I have further papers that you must take to your bank—and for you to instruct your solicitor accordingly.’
‘But—I cannot possibly accept this. I look for no reward for taking care of Dhanu.’
‘Please, Sahib, you must accept it. Your father saved Tipu’s life when he was a boy. The Rajah and his father before him owe him a great debt.’
‘My father was a surgeon, Ahmet. He asked for no reward.’
‘Please—it is a token of his esteem and gratitude. It is a great service you have performed. You must accept it. Our ways are sometimes not the same, but I hope you will allow me to convey my master’s gratitude to you. He begs that you will accept his offering in token of the thanks which he cannot adequately express himself. He realises just how foolish he has been, how blind to Dhanu’s needs, so it is fitting that I, on his behalf, place myself at your feet.’
To William’s surprise this most dignified messenger went down on his knees and put his forehead on William’s shoes. William was well used to this form of expressing gratitude from the Indians and always found it embarrassing, although he knew it was custom.
‘Please, Ahmet, get up.’ William helped him get back on his feet.
‘It would offend the Rajah deeply for you to refuse his gift.’
‘Then what can I say? Suddenly I have much to think about. In the meantime you will stay here, Ahmet, and enjoy my hospitality. I will make arrangements to return to London with you and see you safely on board ship for India.’
‘Thank you. That is most generous of you. How is Dhanu? I imagine he finds England very different from India.’
‘He does, but he’s settled down well. I had my doubts at first, wondering how it would affect him—dispossessed of his home and his father and cast adrift in an alien world. His nurse, Mishka, is much attached to him. He is an inquisitive child—and mischievous. I have to keep a guard over him at all times since he has a habit of wandering off when something of interest catches his eye.’
‘I look forward to seeing him—and I, too, will keep an eye on him.’
When Ahmet had been shown to his room, in the silence of his study William thought about his friend Tipu. With his fists clenched in anger, he dwelt on the cruelty of the woman who had taken Tipu’s life. He fought to control the churning whirlpool of emotion that his loss had wrought in him. Bittersweet memories of the happy times he had spent with his friend came to mind, and sadness rose inside him that he had not been there for him in his hour of need. Tipu’s death, coming so soon after his cousin’s, was hard for him to accept, and he grieved for them both.
Forcing some order to his thoughts, he considered what the astoundingly generous gift from the Rajah would mean to him. It changed everything. There was more than enough money to cover the debts on the estate. He no longer needed Rosa’s money. With cool logic he realised he had to put an end to it—and to reverse his decision to marry her. She wasn’t in love with him any more than he was with her. He told himself he would be releasing her from entering into a loveless marriage and she would be free to follow her desire to help those underprivileged children in the city.
But he knew he would be unable to dismiss her from his life or his mind so easily. His passion for her was torn asunder by guilt. In the past hard logic and cold reason had always conquered his lust—with Rosa it was different. At that moment he realised that rejecting her, as he must, was the hardest thing in his life.
On arriving at Fountains Lodge, William was directed to the garden where he was told he would find Rosa.
The sky was pale blue and cloudless with the gentlest of breezes, the garden filled with the scent of roses and laughter. He paused for a moment to watch Rosa and Dhanu throwing a ball to each other, Mishka seated in a rose arbour peeling an orange, happily watching her young charge at play. William’s heart swelled as he observed the happy scene and listened to Dhanu’s childish laughter, the leaves casting shadows on his happy face. He was clearly at home at Fountains Lodge, responding to all the fuss and attention with a startling vitality, which poured from him like heat from the sun. He watched him drop the ball and run into Rosa’s arms. She swung him round and round before putting him down. She ruffled his dark hair and stroked the curve of his cheek. The gesture was tender, which brought a constriction of emotion to William’s throat, making him hate himself more for what he was about to do.
On seeing William, with a cry of delight, Dhanu ran to him. William swept him off his feet, laughed when Dhanu told him he was playing ball with Rosa, before setting him back on his feet.
With an apron wrapped around her waist, Rosa was a beguiling picture of industrious femininity. When he was close she gazed up at him, a broad smile of welcome stretching her lips and her eyes shining bright.
‘Why, William. This is a pleasant surprise. We weren’t expecting you.’
‘No. We have to talk, Rosa.’ Placing a gentle hand on Dhanu’s shoulder, he looked at Mishka. ‘Would you take Dhanu in the house, Mishka.’
Without a word Mishka got up and took Dhanu’s hand. William’s eyes followed them, smiling when Dhanu turned and cheerfully waved back at him. Watching him, William felt the dependency of Dhanu. It awoke in him a protectiveness for the boy that made his body ache. Not until they had disappeared into the house did he speak.
‘Dhanu seems happy.’
‘He is. He’s a happy, bright child, charged with energy and a playful devilment. I shall miss him when he has to return to India.’ She gazed up at him, seeing how his dark hair gleamed in the sunlight. She experienced a rush of feeling, a bittersweet joy. His being there sent a message of warmth. The morning breeze tugged at her chestnut curls, freed from their restricting pins and falling in loose tresses about her shoulders. With numerous tasks to attend to this day before her wedding, wearing a plain green gown with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a stained apron, Rosa was not looking her best. She regretted him seeing her in such attire, little realising that she made the simple clothes seem stylish and almost elegant. He had been there for just a few seconds, but Rosa had the distinct feeling that he had been watching her for much longer and she felt at a disadvantage.
‘And what brings you to Fountains Lodge, William?’
‘To see you. The maid told me you were in the garden.’
His tone of voice made her look more closely at him. She detected some indefinable, underlying emotion in it as his eyes gleamed beneath the well-defined brows.
‘I am deeply honoured. But you see I am not in any proper state to receive you.’
He smiled. ‘You could be wearing sackcloth and ashes for all I care. I assure you, Rosa, that apron is most provocative at this time of day.’
Rosa was unaware that her hair, tumbling unfashionably about her shoulders, was a hundred different shades and dancing lights. ‘I didn’t expect to see you today. The wedding is tomorrow. You cannot be aware of the impropriety of such a visit or you would not have ventured to see me. I believe it is bad luck for the bride and groom to meet the day before the wedding.’
Despite her words, Rosa was genuinely happy to see him. She felt herself being drawn into his gaze, into the vital, rugged aura that was so much a part of him. Being this close to him and the memory of their kiss, which was never far from her mind, was having a strange effect on her senses. She was too aware of him as a man, of his power, his strength.
William was obliged to smile as he looked at her candid gaze, her face suddenly alight with expectation, yet trying hard to be patient as she waited for him to speak. He paused a moment before stating his business, hesitating to say the words which, in the presence of those clear eyes, seemed suddenly out of all proportion, monstrous and cruel.
‘I have come to see you on a matter of some importance.’
Rosa saw a grave look lurking in his eyes. She felt his tension and a stirring of alarm began low in her chest. Something about him filled her with misgivings. He looked at her in silence. His tight-fitting riding coat emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the tan of his complexion. She felt a wave of desperation as she strove for control and to calm her mounting fears. For a moment she did not speak, she could only hold her breath in anticipation, hoping desperately it was not bad news.
William banished her suspense by coming straight to the point. ‘There will be no wedding, Rosa,’ he said with controlled directness. ‘I am not going to marry you.’
Confused, she stared at him, scarcely comprehending, too overwrought by what he had said to wonder about the sharp tug of loss she felt at the realisation he wasn’t going to marry her. A great wave of disappointment filled her heart. Her world tilted crazily and with her heart fluttering wildly, she said, ‘Oh, I see.’ What was this? Why was he saying this? Her mind was in such turmoil she didn’t know what to think any more. Everything seemed to spin around her and though her clarity was missing, a cold sensation on her flesh told her that there was certainty in what he said. It was like a slap in the face. For a moment she thought her legs might give way, but she didn’t give him that satisfaction. She raised her chin and steeled her spine. ‘And you won’t change your mind?’
‘No. I won’t do that,’ he said firmly, unprepared to refute it. ‘I’m sorry, Rosa.’ His tone was brusque.
‘So am I.’
‘I know how you must feel.’
‘No, you don’t,’ she was quick to retort, her fists tightly clenched as she struggled to contain her rioting emotions. ‘You couldn’t possibly know how I feel.’
‘I do know how insecure you must feel about your future.’
She stared at him, her eyes, which had been soft and welcoming on first seeing him, hard. ‘Insecure?’ She could feel her heart beating in slow, heavy beats. ‘What do you mean? I am a very wealthy woman, so I shall never be insecure, and as for my future, that is entirely my own affair.’
‘I’m sorry, Rosa—truly. Had things been different I would have been honoured to marry you.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ she responded sharply, her tone heavily laced with sarcasm. She could feel her resentment growing.
‘I need to explain,’ he said. ‘We need to talk about this.’
When he was about to explain she held up her hand to silence him. ‘No, we don’t. Please don’t tell me. There’s no need—really.’
‘Yes there is,’ he countered quickly. ‘I want you to understand and I think you will. A messenger has arrived from India with news and letters from the Rajah—Dhanu’s father. I have also received the Rajah’s commendation for taking care of his son at a difficult time, which he felt called upon to make a handsome gesture of gratitude. Suddenly I find I have more than enough wealth to take care of the estate.’
Surprised, Rosa stared at him. ‘Oh—I see. That is indeed generous of him. And Dhanu?’
‘The Rajah has asked that he be returned to India. Much has happened since I left,’ he told her, thinking of Tipu and feeling the pain of his death. ‘Be content when I tell you that it is safe for him to do so and the Rajah is eager to see his son.’
‘I see. Then there is nothing more to be said.’
Bowing his head slightly, he stepped away from her. ‘As you wish.’
‘I do. How could you do something so utterly diabolical to me—on the eve of our wedding? Your timing could not be worse.’
‘It was not my intention to hurt you.’
‘Hurt?’ She stared at him. ‘I am not hurt, William. We have not known each other long enough for me to form any kind of feeling that would result in hurt. I am just thankful that it was to be a small affair and we don’t have to go to the trouble of informing anyone. What about the rector?’
‘I called on him before coming to see you.’
Raising her brows, she nodded. ‘I see. You really have thought of everything. And Dhanu?’
‘He will have to return to Ashurst Park. I will send someone over later on to collect him and Mishka.’
Anger seared up within Rosa, the anger of betrayal, an anger which gave her an inner strength to survive. Drawing herself up proudly, Rosa showed him that she too could be hard and cold. He would never know how much she was hurting. She also knew how unsettling it would be for Dhanu to leave.
‘Rosa, I am grateful to you for making it possible for me to retain the estate—you will never know how much. With the arrival of the messenger from India, in all moral decency I find I cannot act in any other way. I am relieved to be able to release you from entering into a marriage that threw up difficulties for both of us.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed tightly. ‘I’m relieved you’ve found another way to retain the estate.’
William had accepted her offer and agreed to marry her, and now, on the eve of their wedding, he had jilted her. What shocked her was how willingly and suddenly he had given her up. It was hard to understand. After their shared embrace and the kiss when she had melted against him, she had wanted to believe he was beginning to feel something for her, which was clearly not the case. She did her best to hold on to the resentment she felt, to be dignified, while feeling terribly let down and hurt, despite what she had said to him a moment ago.
‘We both understood the nature of our relationship. It was an arrangement that suited us both.’
Rosa’s chin came up. At least he didn’t utter words of sentiment he didn’t feel. ‘At the time.’ She moved her head in a slight, helpless gesture that was an acceptance of his rejection.
Something in that small despairing movement hurt William with a savage pain that was entirely physical. ‘Yes. Things change. It is over.’
Rosa could hear the absolute finality in his voice that told her it would be futile to argue—and she wouldn’t humiliate herself by doing so. Making a concerted effort to hide her regret and disappointment that Ashurst Park and its owner were both lost to her, she looked at this cool, dispassionate man standing before her. He seemed powerful, aloof and completely self-assured. Why did he adopt this remote, almost hostile attitude towards her? Her eyes met his proudly and her tone when she spoke to him, her very posture, was cool and aloof.
‘Then there is nothing more to be said.’
‘No, it appears not. Whatever happens, Rosa, I wish you well and I am sincerely grateful to you for making your offer.’ William looked down at her, aware of the futility of saying anything further. What was the point? The thing was done. Turning on his heel, as he walked away, he felt his heart move painfully in his chest, aching with some strange emotion in which regret and sorrow were mixed. She had made a strong impact on him and he told himself he was a fool to let her go.
Of all the women who had passed through his life, he hadn’t wanted any of them the way he wanted Rosa Ingram. What was it about her? Her touch? Her smile that set his heart beating faster, like a callow youth in the first throes of love? Her innocence? Her sincerity? Whatever it was, she affected him deeply.
He was a man who, when he had made a decision, seldom changed his mind. He had accepted what Rosa had offered in a logical and precise mode of thought, but all that had changed with the arrival of Ahmet.
Rosa’s face was a pale, emotionless mask as she watched him go. She felt totally incapable of moving as she stared at the sun-drenched garden. The day had taken on a strange, unreal quality and suddenly the heat had become oppressive. Her mind shied away from delving too deeply into the exact nature of her feelings for William. She had little faith in trying to judge her own emotions. But she had come to care for him, there was no use denying it. Suddenly her heart and mind felt empty, and she was chilled to the marrow, and even now, when she was desperate with the thought of everything falling apart, she had to ask herself why it should hurt so much and to question what was in her heart.
In the tearing, agonising hurt that enfolded her, she was ashamed at how easy it had been for him to expose the proof of her vulnerability.
The security that she had hoped for in the years to come was gone. Tears blinded her vision. Lowering her head, she moved towards the house, scolding herself for entertaining a misguided infatuation due only to her own youth, inexperience and ignorance of the world.
It had all been a lovely, glittering dream, but now it was over and for the first time in her life she knew the real meaning of isolation. She had no choice but to try and survive. With Clarissa going back to the Caribbean and her grandmother dead, there was no one she could turn to now, only her aunt Clara.
Riding back to Ashurst Park, William was contrite and disgusted with himself. What he had done had been cold and callous and he wasn’t to know that what had just passed between them had been the most humiliating and humbling event of Rosa’s young life. She had looked so small, so vulnerable, he felt sickened with himself and his conscience wrenched. But at the last moment, when he had turned to leave, seeing how her head had lifted and she had squared her shoulders, he had felt admiration for her stubborn, unyielding refusal to cower before him.
How well he had come to know her. He could still feel the fragile warmth of her body in his arms when he had kissed her, in his senses he could recall the delicate fragrance of her flesh, the taste of her on his lips, and see the luminous green eyes that had gazed into his with such soft, trusting candour. If things had been different, if she hadn’t sought him out and proposed marriage, offering her money like a carrot to a donkey, he would have married her. He had never known a woman like her. But his visitor from India had brought him the means to survive without her money. Everything had changed and, as far as he was concerned, it could only be for the better.
As soon as Clarissa saw Rosa’s dejection when she entered the house she knew something had gone badly wrong. Rosa’s unaffected warmth was absent and Clarissa noted that her current attitude of proud indifference was a façade to conceal a deep hurt.
‘What is it, Rosa? What did Lord Ashurst want?’
When Rosa looked into her sister’s sympathetic eyes, she lowered her eyes to hide the shine of her tears. ‘There will be no wedding, Clarissa. Lord Ashurst has called it off.’
With the ties of family and long-standing affection tightening around them, Clarissa sat down next to Rosa on the sofa. ‘But—I don’t understand. How could he do that on the eve before you were to wed? What has happened to make him change his mind?’
‘Apparently he has found another way to retain Ashurst Park so he no longer needs my money—or me.’
‘But—how?’
‘Dhanu’s father has made him a gift—a large one obviously—for taking care of his son.’
‘And Dhanu?’
‘He is to return to Ashurst Park. William is to send a carriage for him and Mishka so we must get him ready to leave.’
‘Oh, dear! He won’t want to leave but I suppose he had to at some time. What will you do now? You can’t stay here.’
‘I know. I wouldn’t want to anyway. I’ll go to London and stay with Aunt Clara for a while. Something will turn up.’
It was an emotional moment when the time came for Dhanu to leave. The child couldn’t understand why. It was with a heavy heart that Rosa watched the closed carriage drive away, removing one more person she had come to love from her life.
Rosa and Clarissa along with Dilys, who was to remain with Rosa as her maid, left Fountains Lodge when the sun came up.
Determined to face her future with dignity and courage, the closer they got to London Rosa’s resilient spirits began to stretch themselves once more. She began to feel human again and resolved not to think about William Barrington. What she needed was to rejuvenate herself. She had money—a lot of money. How well could a rich girl entertain herself in London? She smiled to herself. She would soon find out now she no longer had to think about marrying a stranger.
But she was determined that now she had the opportunity she would put her wealth to good use. Taking care of Dhanu and the loving relationship that had developed between them made her wonder if she could help less fortunate children in some way. A new future was opening up to her. Even though she was still hurting over William’s rejection, she grudgingly had to thank him for this new direction her life had taken.
Aunt Clara and her husband Michael resided in Bloomsbury. Aunt Clara lived an enviable life. She was energetic and vital, always bright and cheerful, with a positive attitude to life. If there were things to be done, she wasn’t one to rest on her laurels. Her vivacity and enthusiasm were contagious. She was constantly busy with her charities and knew so many people and had connections to help her.
Her husband, Michael Swinburn, was a successful businessman in the city. He was a pleasantly mannered, quiet man, with a direct and simple view of life, a man who adored his wife and lavished his attention on her, happy to go along with whatever she planned and to attend his club. They had travelled to Antigua for two extended visits over the years and Clarissa and Rosa had become extremely fond of Aunt Clara and Uncle Michael.
Aunt Clara swept into the hall to welcome them. She was taller than Rosa, with a generous figure. Her resemblance to their mother was so strong that it made Rosa’s heart ache.
She had been expecting Clarissa to arrive alone, so Rosa’s appearance was unexpected and Clara’s reaction was filled with disbelief and pure delight. When condolences had been made for the death of their grandmother, she ushered them into the drawing room and ordered refreshments. They sat chatting companionably for a while and then Clarissa excused herself, saying she would like to rest before dinner.
‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am to see you back in London,’ Clara said, taking a seat beside Rosa and arranging the skirts of her gown. ‘It was so good of you to stay and take care of me when I was ill, instead of going to Berkshire with Clarissa. Now tell me about Lord Ashurst. I thought your grandmother was considering him a match for Clarissa and now here she is, back in London and about to marry the young man from Barbados. And the Earl of Ashurst? What happened to him?’
Rosa sighed. ‘It’s a long story, Aunt Clara, and not a very happy one.’
‘Tell me. I’m a good listener.’
Clara listened patiently to what had transpired between Rosa and Lord Ashurst and when Rosa fell silent she squeezed her hand with sympathy and compassion while feeling a duty to bolster her niece’s spirits. ‘Dear me, Rosa, what a time you have had.’
Rosa nodded. Her eyes held a deep sense of sadness, but she raised her head with pride. ‘Yes. There is no point in crying about it. I’m not the first woman to be jilted on the eve of her wedding. So you see, Aunt Clara, in the end he didn’t want my money—or me. The source of my wealth is abhorrent to him—his rejection humiliating and degrading for me. He must have had a better offer than my own. I can only feel relief that we didn’t go through with the wedding.’
‘Then you must let him go. No good will come of brooding over what might have been. You have your whole life to consider. What you need,’ she said, her voice softening as she sipped her tea, ‘is something to occupy your time—and a little light entertainment. I shall so look forward to introducing you to my friends. With Clarissa returning to the Caribbean—and I know how you will miss her dreadfully—I will see to it that you are never bored. Lord Ashurst will cease to matter.’
Rosa laughed. ‘I’m sure you will.’
‘No one need know of your association with Lord Ashurst. If it becomes known that the two of you were engaged to be married and he jilted you on the eve of the wedding, it will do your reputation no good. From what you have told me it would appear that he has too much on his plate right now to divulge it himself and if he were to do so it would not show him in a favourable light.’
‘I don’t think he will do that. Besides, it is hardly likely we will see each other again.’
‘Possibly not. I am engaged in so many interesting charities and projects that I do not have too much time on my hands—I know I was against you helping me when you broached it before, but since your grandmother’s demise, I have decided to let you help me. The two small institutes we opened five years ago for destitute children we struggle to keep open. They are inadequate for the number of children we take in and we are constantly short of funds and must find ways to raise more. Taking care of the children has become an important part of my life. I would so like to find better premises and even to open an orphanage but...’ she smiled wistfully ‘...all that is for the future. You have a lot to offer and there’s so much you can do to help.’
Rosa was happy to comply. Aunt Clara had always been a source of common sense and good advice. She was all about living and being engaged in life, and was passionate about all she did. She was just what Rosa needed now and perhaps the wealth William Barrington had turned his back on could be put to good use after all. She would not say anything to her aunt just now, not until she had seen what it would entail.
Clarissa and Andrew were married in a quiet ceremony by special licence two weeks after Clarissa arrived in London. They were to travel to Portsmouth, where they would board ship for Barbados. Rosa’s heart was heavy with sadness when the time came for Clarissa to leave—it was the first time they had ever been apart. It was difficult for Rosa to watch her go. The separation would leave a huge hole in her heart. They were both tearful, but Rosa was happy for her sister: a new island, a new home—a new life.
At Ashurst Park William poured himself a large brandy. His mind occupied with financial matters, he settled himself in a comfortable chair near the hearth, propping his feet on the brass fender. During the day he gave himself up to adjusting to life at Ashurst Park and the day-to-day running of the estate. Bailiffs were called in to give an account of their management, accounts gone into and meetings with his tenant farmers, which always made him feel that Charles was looking over his shoulder. The tenants had held Charles in high regard and his tragic death and near bankruptcy had affected them all, making William even more determined to make things right.
He stared into the shifting flames, but his mind was wandering far afield as an image of Rosa entered his thoughts—of dark-fringed eyes, glowing with their own light, the colour in their depths forever changing like a roughly hued gemstone. She was seared into his memory. He could see the way her hair blew in the wind when she rode her horse, the sway of her hips when she walked. She filled every inch of his mind.
Casting this image aside, he brought a more favourable one to mind, of moments when her eyes had been bright and full of laughter, expressive and alive, of a pert nose, gently curving lips—then he held the image in his mind, where it burned with the memory of their incredible softness beneath his own. When he had kissed her he had not been driven by lust, but he had wanted to kiss her, very much. He thought of the rounded grace of her body, which possessed a subdued strength and honesty that lent her a naïve elegance. She was unaware of how lovely she was and she dwelt firmly in his mind.
The truth was that neither time nor distance had blunted the feelings he had for her. As he continued to gaze into the flames they leapt high, then died back, the coals snapping as if with a stoic purpose. Just thinking of her he felt a protectiveness so profound that it shook him to the depths of his being. Yes, he missed her but maybe the best way of protecting her, not to make her a target for the gossips, would be to stay away from her. Looking back, the sweet memory of her response to his kiss touched him deeply. She had been so open and generous in her response, as she was in every aspect of her life. What he was feeling stunned him. So, what was to be done to fill the gaping emptiness of his life her departure from it had left?
When the clock chimed the hour, he rose, having reached a decision.
Refusing to wallow in self-pity, days merged into weeks that passed in a blur of activity for Rosa. Aunt Clara left her no time to brood and refused to let her be still for a day. She was happy to work alongside her aunt on her charities and could not believe the poverty and destitution that she saw. The children touched her heart. They had nothing and very little hope. She was swamped with guilt when she thought how she had lived a life of privilege, taking all she had for granted, while children all over the world were living in such abject poverty. A great many of them were orphans, others unwanted, having been turned out by parents who had too many mouths to feed already, and others had been sold to chimneysweeps and the like for a few shillings. She could not help all the children but she would do her utmost to make a difference for as many as she was able. She made a generous donation to the charities but they were always short of funds.
The long summer days slipped almost unnoticed into autumn.
When they weren’t occupied with charity matters, the days were filled with a frenetic round of social activities. With Uncle Michael and Aunt Clara acting as chaperons, Rosa was escorted to soirées and any social event to which they were invited. She loved attending the theatre and the opera and she was often to be found seated beside her aunt in an open carriage when they would join the elegant traffic to promenade through Hyde Park during the fashionable hour. The park was a rendezvous for people of quality, fashion and beauty, with splendid, shining carriages and high-stepping horses.
Under Aunt Clara’s instruction, Rosa blossomed into an extremely attractive and desirable young woman, who was refreshingly unselfconscious of her beauty. She was a new distraction and London welcomed her and embraced her. She drew the admiring, hopeful eyes of several dashing young males displaying their prowess on prime bloodstock.
There were few people in Aunt Clara’s elevated circle of friends and acquaintances who didn’t know of her background, and all the unattached males at the social events she attended clamoured to be introduced. It was not just her charming self and her beauty that drew them to her, or the mystery of her tropical-island background, but what she had always feared, the enormous wealth the man fortunate to win her would receive when he placed a wedding ring on her finger.
William had taken up residence in his London town house in Grosvenor Square. He had no love of the city—it was much too noisy and too many people wanted to encroach on his time. He had much to occupy himself with and his forays into society had gone well. The buzz of curiosity he had aroused in the ton he could have done without, but nevertheless it amused him.
He was to book Ahmet, Dhanu and Mishka a passage on one of the East India vessels sailing for India. Kamal Kapoor still posed a threat to Dhanu so he would continue to keep the boy safe until he could leave. Today William was enjoying some leisure time riding in Hyde Park with others whose acquaintance he had made, when his attention was caught by one of the occupants in a carriage parading in the ring.