“But now,” Lady Hazelshire broke into a grin. “Now, we must hear all the news from Papa.”
She glanced up at her husband as she resumed her dinner.
Lord Hazelshire had been sitting quietly at the table, observing the events as they unfolded. He was a patient man, but Rowena could see that he was eager to tell them the details of his conversations with the Duke of Thornmouth. Well, not everyone was eager.
I feel as though I might faint. I cannot believe this. And to buy into the business. What gall.
Her father, meanwhile, placed his fork down and rubbed his hands together.
“His Grace has been ever so occupied with the trials, but they are expected to wind down shortly. He will then make his way to London within the fortnight, and we will put up the banns at St. George’s and His Grace’s parish.”
“His Grace does not wish to buy a license? It is so much simpler,” Charles said. Rowena had a mind to throw a bowl of soup at him. Buying a license meant a wedding could take place much sooner, whereas reading the banns would take at least three weeks. The marriage banns had to be read for three consecutive Sundays, in each of their parishes, which would give her several weeks to find a way to undo the whole thing before the wedding.
Unless Charles gave her father ideas. She swallowed and peered at the two men. To her great relief, it was her mother who, unknowingly, provided support.
“I would much rather we stick with tradition. You already forewent the reading of the banns, Charles. We must not go down that route twice. I’ve had rather a few comments about the matter.”
Then she turned to Rowena. “However, I hope to see you wed soon thereafter. Thus, once we return to London, we must begin making purchases for your trousseau. There is so much to get,” she licked her lips and Rowena could see that in her mind, her mother was making lists of all the items that would have to be purchased.
She found herself growing more and more anxious. She had to speak to Christopher. There had to be a solution. Suddenly, she felt Catherine’s hand on her wrist and she realized she had been wringing her handkerchief under the table for some time without realizing. Her sister eyed the handkerchief and shook her head, prompting Rowena to return her hands to the table. She noticed that the palms of her hands were an angry red.
“Rowena, we must write to Betsy and let her know the good news,” Catherine said in a chipper tone. This delighted their mother whose eyes sparkled.
“Yes, yes, you must. I shall as well. I have already written to her to let her know how anxious I have been for this offer to be made. She will be ever so delighted that it has happened.” She pursed her lips as a thought came to her. “I wonder if I can speak to Lady Portsmouth, so Betsy may be allowed some days leave for the wedding. She certainly needs to be a part of it. She is family, after all.”
Rowena’s heart softened toward her mother, as she appeared genuinely eager to have Betsy there.
I wonder if I should have told her of the terrible news I learned about Lord Portsmouth. However, it would have put her in a terrible position.
She would have had to choose between her loyalty to her ward and to theton. An impossible prospect for someone like Lady Hazelshire who was so concerned with her family’s social standing.
A thought came to her. “Perhaps I could be excused to write to her at once?” She eyed her father, who nodded.
“Of course. If you complete the letter tonight, I can have it sent with the messenger to the Du…I mean Isaac’s home. It is rather convenient to have Betsy and the Portsmouth’s staying at Crawford Castle.”
“Indeed,” Rowena said as she rose, placing the handkerchief on the plate. Then, she turned and rushed out of the room, heading toward the staircase where she pretended to walk up the steps.
In reality, she waited a few moments and then removed her shoes. Quietly and on her tip toes, she made her way outside into the darkening night.
* * *
Rowena stood under Christopher’s window which was lit with the dim light of beeswax candles. She shook the handful of pebbles she’d collected and tossed several up into the direction of his window.
They produced a banging sound much louder than she had anticipated and she quickly dove behind a stone wall, fearful of being detected.
To her relief, a moment later someone stepped up to the window and opened it, peering outside.
It was Henry Newmont. Rowena stepped out from behind the wall and looked up at him, waving so he would see her.
He leaned out the window and she stepped closer, calling as quietly as she could “The well house.” He nodded and disappeared inside.
Her message relayed; Rowena rushed up the hill toward the well house. The iron gate was closed, and she wedged it open with some difficulty. Once inside, there was nothing to do but wait.
What are we to do? Once the banns are read it is official.
She glanced out over the vast landscape before her. These past few days had been like magic. Like a dream. A dream that had so cruelly come to an end. She felt foolish to have considered that this might become her reality. That by some other worldly intervention the Duke of Thornmouth would simply disappear and she’d be allowed to be with Christopher. The thought alone of being married to a man she did not love made her miserable.
“Rowena?” Christopher’s voice sounded out in a whisper. She turned and the moment she laid eyes on him she broke into a run.
