Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

Roland slept badly, his mind going over and over the encounter with Charlotte in the garden, the hurtful things they had said to each other, words, like those uttered six years before, which could not be unsaid. But words were not everything. He had not imagined it the first time he kissed her; she felt as passionately as he did, it had been evident in every move she made, the way her lips sought his even when he was ready to break apart, the way her arms wound round him, setting him on fire with desire. And her violent reaction—what was that but a very feminine fury at her own weakness? But apart from satisfying his curiosity on that score, what had he achieved by behaving so badly? Nothing.

He rose and was halfway through his breakfast when Geoffrey joined him. ‘You are up betimes, cousin, considering the time you arrived back from the ball,’ he greeted him.

Geoffrey sat down and helped himself to eggs and ham. ‘Did we wake you?’

‘No, I was not asleep.’

‘Plenty to think about, eh?’

‘You heard?’

‘Heard there was something going on. Whispers all round and Lady Brandon flitting about like a bee, taking the news from flower to flower.’

‘Did you hear what was said?’

‘Only from Lady Gilford, and you know how things become exaggerated with repetition. I should pay no heed to it.’

‘Come on, tell me the worst.’

‘That Miss Brandon turned you down on account of your doubtful character.’

‘My doubtful character!’ he exclaimed. ‘What did she mean by that?’

‘Two nights away with Miss Cartwright, and her coming back in your coach for all the world as if she had been rolling around in the hay. Her hat lost and her dress torn…’

‘You knew the truth of that and so did Lady Ratcliffe. Surely one of you said something? It is a vicious slur on my good name, let alone the reputation of Miss Cartwright.’

‘I tried, but no one would take any notice of me and I never heard Lady Ratcliffe say a word on the subject, though I swear she heard it. It’s my belief she would like to see you leg-shackled to the hoyden.’

‘She is not a hoyden!’ Roland almost shouted the words.

‘Well, whatever her reputation was like before, it is certainly ruined now, unless you marry her and you can hardly do that, can you?’

Roland groaned inwardly. In trying to do his best for everyone, he seemed to have done just the opposite. He could not tell Charlotte he had not offered for Miss Brandon and the fact that the young lady had turned him down would carry no weight with her; for all she knew, Miss Brandon had been his first choice. As for the vicious rumour, what could he say to Charlotte about that, except to ask her to marry him? But Geoffrey was right, he could not do that so soon after having apparently offered for Miss Brandon. It would only add fuel to the rumours. He was in a cleft stick and his position in the village rapidly becoming untenable. He left his cousin munching toast, and set off for the dower house.

His mother had not yet put in an appearance downstairs, but on being told he was waiting for her, she slipped into a grey silk dressing gown and came down to join him. ‘Come and have breakfast with me,’ she said, leading the way into the dining room.

‘I have had my breakfast.’

‘Then come and sit with me while I have mine and tell me what happened last night. You told me Miss Brandon had her heart set on Mr Elliott.’

‘So she has. Things were taken out of my hands somewhat.’

‘So I noticed, and so did everyone else.’ She seated herself at the table and indicated the chair next to her. ‘Sit down, do, and at least have a cup of coffee.’ She filled two cups from the jug at her elbow and pushed one towards him. ‘I assume you offered for her?’

‘Of course not. The silly girl dragged me off to beg me not to, but hadn’t realized the consequences of her actions.’

‘And Lady Brandon knows this?’

‘She believes I offered and her daughter refused me. Miss Brandon and I agreed on this to save her reputation.’

‘And you think that is an end of it, Roland? You must know it is not. She will not take that as her daughter’s final decision, you may be sure. Young ladies often refuse a first time they are asked, only to give in later.’

‘That is why I said I would go away to recover from my disappointment and give her time to bring her mother round to accepting her real choice.’

‘Go away, Roland?’ she asked in consternation.

‘Yes. When she has accomplished that, I can return.’

‘But that could take an age! Lady Brandon is the most stubborn and self-opinionated woman in the world. She will nag Martha to death.’

‘But there is nothing she can do about it if I am not here, is there?’

‘And what about all the work you have been doing here? You cannot abandon it.’

‘No, but I am sure Geoffrey will keep an eye on the place for me and make sure everything runs smoothly while I am away.’

‘Roland, these are drastic steps to take.’

‘Drastic cures for drastic ills, Mama. It is for the best. I cannot bear another young lady to be hurt by me…’

‘ Another young lady? Roland, what do you mean? What other young lady has been hurt by you?’

‘I have discovered Miss Cartwright heard me telling my father I would not marry her and the reason I gave, for which I am heartily ashamed.’

‘But that was six years ago and you were only a stripling.’

‘Nevertheless they were not the words of anyone calling himself a gentleman, as she has taken pains to remind me.’

‘Have you not apologised?’

‘Yes, Mama, but the lady is not disposed to accept my apology.’

‘I see,’ she said slowly, as understanding dawned. ‘Then perhaps a week or two away might be beneficial. When are you going?’

‘As soon as I am ready. There are one or two things I must clear up before I go.’

‘I wish it had not come to this, Roland. I have been so happy to have you home these last weeks and the work you have done on the estate is beginning to pay off, everyone is more cheerful because of it. But if you have made up your mind, I will not attempt to dissuade you. I will try to see if I can influence Lady Brandon to accept Martha’s choice of suitor, then you can come back the sooner.’

‘I have been thinking about that myself. I believe the living at Scofield is in my gift and is due to become vacant shortly. Do you think it will help if I offer it to Mr Martin Elliott?’

‘Oh, I am sure it will.’ She rose and walked over to where he sat and bent to kiss each cheek in turn. ‘Bless you, my son.’

She released him and he stood up and, with a parting embrace, left her. Returning to the Hall, he saddled his horse and set out for a ride, wondering if he might meet Charlotte doing the same thing, though he had little hope of it. The ball had not finished until nearly dawn and she was bound to rise late. Unless, like him, she could not sleep. If he did meet her, would she listen to what he had to say, any more than she had listened the night before? What was he going to say? That he was sorry his actions had led to gossip about her, that he had fallen deeply in love with her? Ask her to marry him? It might save her reputation, but it would certainly tarnish his in the eyes of Lady Brandon and the villagers who believed him smitten with Martha Brandon. Was ever a man in such a coil?

After days of rain, the air was fresh and clean and the meadows lush. Little rivulets of sparkling water found their way down between the stones on the hillside. In some places the ground was boggy and he picked his way carefully. The underground waterways would be rushing along in torrents, he mused, and that set him thinking of Browhill. The water in the lower levels would be higher than ever and unworkable. He still had not told Charlotte he was not proceeding with his claim and evidently Mountford had not. He turned his horse towards the mine, though he was sure no one would be working on a Sunday morning.