Elizabeth Rolls - Regency High Society Vol 3

‘I do believe that we are beginning to understand each other at last,’ he could not resist adding. ‘If you should continue to exert such admirable self-control, I believe we shall deal tolerably well. And now, Miss O’Malley, I shall leave you alone to ponder over the wisdom of what I have said, whilst I repair downstairs for an hour or so.’

With which he swung round on the heels of his decidedly dusty boots and, head held high, strutted from the room, like a combatant leaving the field of battle in the certain knowledge that he was the clear victor.

The instant the door had closed behind him, Katherine closed her eyes, and somehow managed to quell the temptation to reach out for that pitcher whose handle was invitingly close, and hurl it at the exact spot where the Major’s arrogant head had been only moments before. How glad she was now that her grandfather had insisted that she spend a year at that superior Bath seminary! One schoolmistress of whom she had been particularly fond had endeavoured to teach her to control her temper, and to consider any forceful display of emotion faintly vulgar. She had certainly needed to heed those excellent teachings during the past few minutes, and attempt to behave in a dignified manner. Whether she would be able to continue to do so during the days ahead was a different matter entirely!

Suddenly feeling incredibly weary, Katherine slumped down on the bed, and began to consider her present predicament. Unpalatable though it was, she had to face the fact that she would, perforce, need to spend a considerable amount of time in the Major’s company. Like it or not, she did require his escort to return to England. He had not said as much, but she was acutely aware that she desperately needed him, whereas he did not really need her. It certainly put her at a distinct disadvantage, and she was honest enough to admit that she very much resented the fact.

She very much resented, too, having to acknowledge that he had been right to stigmatise her dislike of him as childish. If the truth were known, her own conscience had begun to prick her over the attitude she had adopted towards him on the night of the engagement party. Yes, he had been right, curse him! Dear Helen had been rather immature in her ways, and, although Katherine had completely forgotten the fact until he had remarked upon it, Helen had frequently been seen in possession of the rag-doll her mother had given to her.

One of Helen’s favourite pastimes had been sewing. She would spend hours creating fashionable outfits for that wretched doll which she herself longed to wear. It had created a very odd impression, all the same, to see the toy so often in her hands.

Yes, it was little wonder that Major Ross had looked upon Helen as a mere child, Katherine reflected, experiencing once again a pang of regret for the way she had behaved towards him. She had been grossly at fault to condemn him as heartless. That did not mean, of course, that she could ever bring herself to like him. Arrogant and overbearing, he epitomised everything she most disliked in his sex. Yet somehow she was going to have to learn to tolerate him until her feet were firmly planted once more on British soil.

A light scratch on the door forced her to abandon her unsettling reflections, and Katherine raised her head to see Marie enter. She thought she detected a glimmer of sympathy in the older woman’s eyes before Marie turned to the two serving-maids, bearing trays, and instructed them to enter.

Whilst the servants busied themselves placing the various dishes on the small table tucked in one corner of the bedchamber, Marie maintained a flow of inconsequential chatter, remarking that the evening had turned chilly, but that the landlord had predicted a fine day for tomorrow. She had never once forgotten the role she had been instructed to play—that of a devoted and conscientious lady’s maid. She was always alert and remarkably astute, which made her obvious regard for Major Daniel Ross all the more puzzling.

Even in her own highly disturbed state, Katherine had realised by Marie’s reaction to his unexpected appearance that Major Ross was none other than the man whom Sir Giles had engaged a few years before to effect Louise Baron’s escape. What she quite failed to understand, however, was why Marie held the odious creature in such high esteem. It was perhaps understandable why she should retain feelings of gratitude. But she had greeted him like some long-lost friend, for heaven’s sake!

Determined to have her curiosity satisfied, Katherine didn’t hesitate to broach the subject the instant the servants had completed their tasks and had left them to enjoy their dinner in private.

‘Major Daniel Ross.’ Marie repeated the name Katherine had just divulged as though it were a benediction. ‘Yes, mademoiselle. It was indeed he who succeeded in helping little Louise Baron,’ she added after a moment’s thoughtful silence.

‘You evidently hold him in high regard,’ Katherine prompted when Marie turned her attention once again to the food on her plate.

‘Indeed, I do, mademoiselle.’ Marie raised her eyes to gaze at some spot behind her dinner-companion’s head. ‘His orders were to secure Louise’s release. But he put his life at further risk by aiding me to escort her to a place of safety.’

Marie was silent whilst she subjected Katherine to a prolonged, searching stare. Then, seemingly satisfied with what she detected in the delicately featured face, she said, ‘I believe I told you that the Baron family was once very wealthy. Monsieur Baron employed a steward, a man who had worked diligently for the family. Some years after her parents were killed, whilst she was residing in Paris, Justine discovered where her late father’s steward and his family had fled, and it was in their care Justine wished her sister to be placed. Major Ross, as I have mentioned, ensured that we arrived at our destination safely. We should never have succeeded without him, that I know.’

‘And does Louise still reside with the family?’ Katherine enquired gently.

Marie nodded. ‘With one of them.’

‘And is she happy?’

‘Oh, yes, mademoiselle. Within a short time she married the eldest son, Pierre, and they have now two lovely children. With the money Justine left her sister, Louise and Pierre bought a vineyard, and have prospered. I too live with them,’ she added, before her gaunt features were softened by a gentle smile. ‘Until you revealed it a short while ago, I never knew the real name of the man to whom we owe so much. I only ever knew him as Antoine Durand.’

Her expression suddenly turning grave, she reached across the table to clasp Katherine’s left hand. ‘Set aside your differences, petite,’ she urged gently. ‘Believe me when I tell you that you could do no better than to put yourself in that man’s hands. He will guard you well.’

Later, after she had changed into her night-wear, Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, and began absently to pull a brush through her long auburn tresses as she turned over in her mind what Marie had disclosed during dinner.

Yes, she could well appreciate now why the Frenchwoman thought so well of Major Ross. Yet when it had been suggested that she could do no better than to place herself in his care, she could not bring herself to agree. But why?

A bitter smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Oh, yes, she knew well enough why she had been so willing to blame him for poor Helen’s death; why she had been so contented to allow Major Daniel Ross to figure as the villain of the piece all these years. But that, she silently reminded herself, did not explain why now—now, when she had acknowledged how incredibly unjust and foolish she had been—she was still so determined to dislike him, to keep him at a distance.