Viola stood at the windows, staring out at the lawn where orange and yellow leaves fell like large raindrops, and tossed about in a sharp October wind.
“You are not a Lockhart here, Viola. You are not a baroness, nor a duchess, nor any other title that might impress Society. You are a young woman in need of help.”
“I didn’t ask for your help, Lady Stanford.”
Shock reverberated through Rose, leaving her momentarily speechless. “That is true,” she said slowly, though her temper simmered and spurred. “You are welcome to leave anytime you wish, my dear. This is not Fleet; you are not a prisoner.” Rose drew in a deep breath. “In my eyes, you’ve been treated with nothing but kindness, generosity, and respect.” She strolled over to the windows and stared out as well, keeping Viola’s expression in her peripheral view.
The silence that followed was marked, the kind that cut more deeply than shouting. Viola’s eyes darted to Rose then back to the windows with her brows furrowed. For a moment, she looked every inch the frightened girl Rose had first seen in that Whitefriars alley.
“Is it true, you are taking everyone to tea? Mrs. Tatton is sister to the Duke of Ryleigh. I should enjoy that,” she said.
“As am I,” Rose said wryly. “But I find you may not be ready for such an outing.”
She whipped around, facing Rose, fury sparking from her eyes. “I believe I should like to leave Hope House, Lady Stanford.”
“Of course, dear.” Shockingly, Rose’s reticule still dangled from her wrist. Shaking her head, she lifted and retrieved her coin purse. She opened it, took Viola’s hand, and poured out every last shilling.
Amazement, then fear, rippled from her. “But what am I to do?” Viola whispered. “I haven’t a thing to wear.”
Her gall was astonishing. “I’m sorry, Viola, I’ve done all I can to help you,” Rose said gently. “Perhaps it’s time you helped yourself.”
Rose retrieved her bonnet and gloves, walked to the door, and slipped from the drawing room without looking back, her heart heavy with untold failure. On leaden steps, she made her way back toward the kitchens, where excitement spilled out along with the warmth. Her heart lurched, hearing the unmistakable tones of Gabriella, Rebecca, and even Huntley.
“Rose Stanford!” Gabriella’s voice could have felled a regiment. “Where in heaven’s name did you disappear to last night?”
Rose caught Mrs. Kier’s eye, and the Scotswoman’s lips softened into a small curl as she turned away. “Out o’ my kitchens with the lot o’ ye. I’ll bring coffee an’ tea to the dining room.”
Spinning about for the third time that morning was making Rose dizzy. But she marched into the dining room and took a seat—at the head of the table. Rebecca’s skirts swished furiously as she skirted Rose and dropped into the chair next to her.
Huntley’s deep voice rumbled. “Did you mean to give us apoplexies, vanishing from Peachornsby’s ball without a word?”
Rose suppressed a groan as Huntley stepped inside the room—an unwanted apparition—and held out a chair for Gabriella before taking another for himself.
“You are notmykeeper, Huntley. Don’t you have your hands full with Gabriella?” she said lightly.
Mrs. Kier entered with a tray laden with much needed coffee, smart woman. Coffee was the beverage required for this confrontation.
“Did the footman not deliver my missive?” she went on blandly.
Gabriella frowned. “Yes, but—”
Rose let out a sigh. “But what, Gabriella? Should I have stormed the dance floor just to let you know my head took on an unexpected ache?”
Mrs. Kier’s brows arched as she quit the room. Rose could feel her lips twitching but lifted her chin, bracing herself. She’d survived Emerson’s fury the night before, hadn’t she?
Gabriella and Rebecca let out simultaneous breaths, their shoulders collapsing along with their indignation.
“By the bye, I shall be taking the girls to Amersham for tea with Antonia.”
“Today?”
“You know very well it was planned for today. I suspect she’s lonely. The two of you are attending as well.”
“Lady Huntley, somehow you’ve failed to inform me of your plans,” Huntley growled.
Hiding a grin, Rose finished her coffee and stood, eager to escape more revelations. “If you will excuse me, I must speak with Mrs. Kier before our departure.” She hurried from the dining room with Huntley’s words following her through the door.
“I’ll be sending outriders alongside you…”
