Rosina’s heart felt as if it sprang almost out of her chest, and she was unable to stop herself leaping from her seat. Raith was back. He was standing just inside the room, his eyes upon the visitor, his damaged countenance wearing its most cynical look. He had discarded his outer garments, though he was still in travelling dress: a double-breasted frock-coat of rust-coloured fustian with a stand collar, and waistcoat to match, over buckskins and boots.
Rosina was stricken with an abrupt sense of his virility. But it was driven out of her head by the instant remembrance of their last meeting.
“My l-lord!” she managed, conscious of a tremble starting up in her limbs.
He was coming towards her. What was she to do? She shot a glance at Lady Doddinghurst, and saw that dame’s eyes passing from herself to her husband, and back again. She must not let this dreadful female see the true state of their relationship.
“You — you startled me, my lord.” She forced a smile as he reached her.
She felt him take her hand, and lift it. It quivered, outside her control, and Rosina met his eyes as he bent his head to kiss the fingers. She read a message of warning in them, and realised, with a flash of resentment in her breast, that he meant to put on a show for the benefit of her visitor.
“A thousand pardons, my love, to be bursting in on you without warning in this way,” he said smoothly, and slightly pressed her fingers.
Rosina withdrew them quickly, and sank back into her seat, conscious of an overwhelming desire to weep. Hateful to have him behave in that familiar fashion, when the truth of their dealing was so very unlike it. My love, indeed!
His voice had hardened. “You have much to forgive, I perceive. I should never have left you to the mercy of your neighbours.”
Glancing swiftly up at him, Rosina thought she detected reassurance in his eyes. Easy to see this remark had been directed at Lady Doddinghurst. A peal of patently false laughter breaking out behind Raith confirmed the notion.
“Very well attempted, my dear Anton. But you know, it is difficult to be set down by a young man whom one has known since he was in short coats.”
“Difficult, ma’am, but not impossible.” Was that menace in his tone? “As you will find, if you persist in troubling my wife with your ill-considered remarks.”
“Oh, pish! You do not frighten me, Anton. Recollect that I have brought four sons into the world, and am a grandmother several times over.”
“Then you should have more consideration for the sensibilities of a young lady who has not your worldly knowledge and experience.”
Rosina saw a flush stain the woman’s cheeks, and the smile vanished. She could not but be conscious of satisfaction, and she was cheered by Raith’s having championed her. She had dreaded his coming, but this front he had put up to dampen the impertinence of her visitor might give her a respite. He seemed not to have the immediate intention of seeking revenge for her dreadful lapse. Might she dare to hope the intervening four days had dulled his anger?
But his presence, despite that horrid charade, was sending her heart into high gear. She had feared his return, but she could not withstand the realisation she had missed him in spite of it. Missed the very sight of him, wrecked features and all. If only circumstances had been different. If she had been able to offer him a history wholly untarnished.
“Well, and how are you faring, Anton?” the creature was saying, glossing over the earlier exchange. “Doddinghurst had been of the opinion that Piers must have brought the place to the verge of ruin.”
Raith had taken up a pose near the fire, the ruined cheek rather in Lady Doddinghurst’s sight line than Rosina’s. At this, he turned a face of mockery upon the matron.
“And hoped to purchase it for a song at the last? I am perfectly aware of Sir Humphrey’s ambition to possess this estate, since it marches with his own. However, I must inform you, ma’am, that the estate is under entail. It is out of the power of any incumbent to effect a sale.”
If he had meant to discompose the visitor, he succeeded. She rose. “I have stayed too long.” She crossed to Rosina and held out her hand. “My dear Lady Raith, I will say farewell for the moment.”
Rosina took the hand as briefly as civility would allow. She was less immediately concerned with the woman’s departure, than with the fact that it would leave her alone with her spouse, who had crossed to tug on the bell-pull. Her pulse started up the dreadful tattoo that so often attacked her in his presence, and the flutter in her stomach made her feel sick.
The woman turned at the door, and Rosina discovered that she was not out of venom. “One last morsel of advice, dear Anton. Don’t leave your wife in ignorance, when a little knowledge will prevent her from making a complete fool of herself.”
Raith swore as she swept through the door, which the butler was holding open. He strode into the centre of the room, looking after her. “That female is the most disagreeable of my acquaintance. Damn her for being so absolutely right!” He turned, his eyes going to Rosina.
At once he forgot Lady Doddinghurst. How white and strained was his waif! She looked thinner. Or was it the effect of the charmingly simple gown? No, for her elfin countenance was drawn. What had he done? He wanted to go to her, draw her up into his arms and hold her comfortingly close. But the consciousness of his own duplicity prevented him.
What would she say, were he to tell her of his activities during his absence? If she were to know that Ottery was even now on his way to Nun Eaton, bent upon bearding the fellow Cambois, who had been her guardian? Raith had hired a chaise for him, and himself driven home in the phaeton with Parton. He had not precisely followed the advice of Rosina’s nurse, but rather his lawyer’s forceful representations.
“In your present frame of mind, my lord, I must and will conjure you to leave these enquiries to me. I do not wish to be obliged to bring you off from a charge of murder! Besides, you do not know there is truthfully any occasion for your wrath. Let me handle the business, as Mrs Hoswick suggested.”
It had taken some discussion, but he had at length capitulated, spurred more perhaps by Ottery’s further argument. “You left Lady Raith, as I understand it, in a distinctly perturbed frame of mind. Picture to yourself, my lord, the aggravated distress occasioned by your long absence, with neither explanation nor opportunity to make up the quarrel.”
Ottery had been right. She looked so much the worse he could never sufficiently blame himself. To crown all, he had left her unsupported to an ordeal which she dreaded, subject to the damned impertinences of Lady Doddinghurst and her like. His tongue loosened.
“I am sorry I left you alone like this. I would not for the world have had you suffer that creature’s rudeness.”
Rosina’s jumping nerves settled a little at this evidence that he did not mean to upbraid her — at least, not yet. She was tempted to offer her own heartfelt apology for that dreadful blow, which she could never sufficiently regret. But she was too afraid of re-awakening his anger with the memory.
