Raith moved to her, and sought her hands, holding them strongly. “Mrs Hoswick, if it turns out otherwise, I promise you faithfully that I will return Rosina to you, intact. And provide you both with means to secure what haven you please.”
“He means it, Mrs Hoswick,” Ottery put in, adding persuasively, “If you wish, I will write it all out for you, and His lordship will sign it, that you may be certain of a right in law.”
But the nurse put up her chin, and nodded at last. “That ain’t needful, sir. I couldn’t read it nohow, in any event.” She let out a sigh. “You’d best go and parley with that there Herbert Cambois, as was her guardian.” She turned again to Raith. “But if you’ll take the advice of an old woman, my lord, you’ll leave the doing to this ’un, and go your ways. It ain’t good for my dove to be left alone, and it’s your business to protect her.”
The caller was becoming extraordinarily difficult. The visit had started well enough. A little practice had given Rosina poise, which, blended with her natural air of civil deference, had won for her the amiability of those far less comfortably circumstanced than she now was herself.
But Lady Doddinghurst’s baronet husband placed her only marginally lower in the social scale than her hostess, yet Rosina found her quick to demonstrate her superiority of worldly knowledge. Not to say fashion.
Until her arrival, Rosina had been satisfied of the modality of her sprigged muslin gown, with its long sleeves and gathered bodice, a frill adorning the hem. But this matron, fresh from the metropolis, wore a gown of violet crepe of exquisite cut, enriched by a cloak of purple velvet. A feathered turban completed this formidable toilette, under which a sharp pair of eyes looked down an imposing Roman nose, surveying her hostess from her head to her heels.
“Charming.” The smile seemed spurious. “A trifle countrified, but quite charming.”
Lady Doddinghurst was of an age to claim acquaintance with Raith’s own father, which put Rosina at a distinct disadvantage. After the doubtful compliment, she asked who of the surrounding gentry Rosina had already received, and proceeded to a comprehensive lecture upon their strengths and frailties. Rosina listened in amazement, but without any apprehension on her own part, until the visitor switched her attention to her hostess’s personal affairs.
“How did you and Lord Raith become acquainted?”
The smile did not reach her eyes and Rosina fought down sudden panic. “In — in the usual way.”
“Is there a usual way?”
Abruptly Rosina recalled the tale which Mr Ottery had once said should be the preferred report of their union. “Why, yes. The — the marriage was arranged. Our respective parents had — had planned it. A long time ago.”
A haughty stare was bent upon her from the chair to the window side of the fire. “Who are your parents?”
“They are both dead.” She hoped common civility would prevent further questions on this head.
She received a pitying look as the visitor sat back at her ease. “Ah, how sad. However, it is interesting to hear that Anton’s father took pains to ensure his betrothal. Particularly in the light of subsequent events.”
Rosina knew not what to say. Lady Doddinghurst spoke as if she did not believe in the tale Raith had concocted. What did she know that Rosina did not? Everything, since she knew so little. She saw the woman’s smile increase, at her discomfiture no doubt, and hurried into speech.
“I believe it was the wish rather of my lord’s mother,” she said at random, and hastily borrowed Mr Ottery’s amused comment. “Marriage is thought to be a steadying influence.”
“Yet his lordship is from home.”
“There is — he is engaged upon business that cannot be laid aside.” Crisp now, Rosina followed this up. “My lord has only just come into the inheritance, you must know, and there is a great deal to be done.”
The other woman laughed with a touch of scorn. “So I should imagine, after the way Piers treated the place.” She cast a disparaging glance about as she spoke, and Rosina found herself roused to resentment on her spouse’s behalf. She threw out a challenge.
“You seem to know a great deal about the family, Lady Doddinghurst.”
“So much, my dear,” agreed the other, meeting the attack head on, “that I find it hard to imagine the second Lady Raith could have thought it necessary to secure the betrothal of a mere boy. After all, he was not yet into adolescence when she was taken off by a fatal illness.”
Anton’s mother had died when he was a child? He might have primed her on these matters. Now what was she to say? Should she confess her ignorance? No, she would not. This female was altogether too patronising to deserve her confidence. She opted to retire from the lists.
“I am not in a position to comment, ma’am. However it may have been, I was given to understand Lord Raith and I were to be married in due time, and so it proved to be.”
To her dismay, Lady Doddinghurst looked like a cat who had been at the cream. “How odd that your parents should secure you to a second son with no hope of inheriting, whose sole income derived from the army.”
Rosina was effectively silenced. The best she could do was to eye her visitor with head held high, hoping that nothing of her deep disquiet was visible. For a moment, the elder lady gazed down her nose, as if she dared her to respond. Then she relaxed, producing a winning smile.
“My poor child, I had no intention of putting up your back. If you take my advice, you will persuade your husband to think up a better tale. I am sure he will oblige you. I cannot think that Anton Raith will be eager for yet more scandal to be attached to his name.”
Incensed, Rosina threw aside all caution. “I am afraid I know nothing of any such stigma. Perhaps your ladyship will care to enlighten me as to the meaning of these hints?”
“Oh, my dear Lady Raith, do you mean to say that you do not know? But how foolish of young Anton to have kept you in ignorance. Though I dare say he had hoped there were few persons old enough to remember the truth about his mother’s marriage. Also indeed, perhaps the later disgraces, being of a more personal nature, are of closer concern to him.”
An icy voice spoke from the doorway. “I see, Lady Doddinghurst, that you have not lost your penchant for probing into the private affairs of others.”
