Rosanna’s heart sank in her chest, and though she longed to follow after her sister, logic held her in place. There was no good to be had in forcing the issue. Katherine had made up her mind on the subject, and the young lady was determined to cling to her view of the world.
Gazing out at the crowd gathering in the ballroom, Rosanna couldn’t help but think the room was dimmer than before. So much for Mr. Tate’s theory of her gifts. Could one be considered good with people if she couldn’t manage a happy relationship with her own sister? Darkness swirled in her heart, tinging the edges of her joyful spirit, and for a long moment, Rosanna allowed herself to sink into the depths of it.
Straightening, she drew in a deep breath. Such thoughts were not helpful, and failing once was not an indication of talent. Without much effort, Rosanna spied several young ladies she’d assisted and couples she’d matched. Katherine may not wish for her guidance, but to abandon all hope was ridiculous.
Rosanna forced her previous thoughts from her mind and drew back her shoulders. Her gaze drifted across the room, searching for her next opportunity.
The Michaelmas assembly was Greater Edgerton society at its finest. Perhaps not as grand as some of the private affairs hosted by the wealthiest of their town, but this was the most lavish of the public offerings.
No other time of year was more important than the harvest. If one were in doubt of such a fact, one need only look at the emphasis given to the autumn months. Yes, there were festivities to be found in winter, with their parlor games, Twelfth Night cakes, and the like. However, even a town like Greater Edgerton—with its dependence on the mills and industry more than the fields and plow—celebrated the end of the growing season with much pomp and circumstance.
The Michaelmas assembly marked the beginning of the festivities, with many private offerings to follow. There would be picnics and shooting parties (as the weather allowed), balls and card games, music and food, with each day filled to the brim until the Harvest Festival brought the season to a close.
The hosts had done their utmost to rise to the occasion, draping every free surface in the offerings of the season, forgoing the usual flowers for the bright colors of autumn until they had a veritable forest of red and gold inside. Large arrangements lined the walls and others were strung together into bunting, hung along the wall like some autumnal breeze had given them flight.
Standing near the entry to greet the guests, the Sewards were clearly proud of their accomplishment—as they should be. Rosanna made note to herself to tell Mrs. Seward just how lovely it was, for the poor dear had been beside herself with worry about the occasion.
The family had done much to maneuver into the coveted position of master of ceremonies, and even this brief view of the ballroom made it clear that tonight would be quite grand. The fortune they’d spent on candles alone was bound to make them the center of much admiration for weeks to come.
“Oh, my dear, there you are!” called Mrs. Rathbourne, coming to a stop before Rosanna. Despite being married for some years, the lady danced on her toes like a young girl and grabbed Rosanna’s hands, fairly squealing in delight. “I hear congratulations are in order!”
Rosanna fought not to gape at that. “I’m afraid I do not know to what you are referring.”
“Don’t be a goose,” she replied with a laugh. “I have heard from no less than three people that Mr. Tate is courting you.”
Tugging her hands free, Rosanna shook her head. “I do not know how such rumors have started, but I assure you that is not the case. We are not now nor have we ever been courting.”
Mrs. Rathbourne gave a little frown, but a moment later she waved it away. “Nonsense. I understand wishing to be discreet, but there is no need. This is wonderful news.”
Rosanna sighed and rubbed at her forehead, though there was nothing to be done to stem the rumors. That was the nature of gossip. Once told, people rarely questioned it, even when disputed. Rosanna wouldn’t stop denying the falsehood, but she knew better than to expect others to believe her. The only course of action was a distraction.
“I am so glad that you are here,” said Rosanna with a bright smile, taking the young matron by the arm and guiding her along the edge of the ballroom. “Mrs. Rushworth, Mrs. Wilson, and I are organizing a charity concert, and I was hoping you might aid us. We are raising funds to help the parish widows, and I am determined to help as many as we can.”
Mrs. Rathbourne stiffened, her smile growing a touch brittle. “That does sound delightful, but I fear I am quite busy of late.”
“That is no surprise,” said Rosanna with a shake of her head. “With two little ones running about, it is a wonder you have any time at all.”
“You have no idea,” said Mrs. Rathbourne with a sigh. “Even with the nursemaids on hand, I feel run off my feet.”
“You are a saint.”
The lady snapped open her fan, batting it before her. “You are a dear for saying so. I feel as though no one understands how much I suffer. I have the staff to oversee, the children to care for, the household accounts to manage, and on top of all that, our social calendar is stuffed to the brim. I am forever planning parties and writing invitations. The whole thing is so overwhelming at times.”
Rosanna forced her brows to twist in sympathy. “I hate to even ask you to add another thing to your demanding schedule, but you know there is no one as skilled as you are at organizing refreshments. We are in desperate need of your talents. No one else will do.”
Mrs. Rathbourne’s fan fluttered faster, her eyes narrowing as she turned to stand before Rosanna. “I know what you are doing, Miss Leigh. It isn’t nice to play to my vanity.”
“But it is so very amusing.”
“That it is,” replied Mrs. Rathbourne with a huff. With a sigh, she snapped her fan closed. “I suppose I can assist you with the refreshments.”
Grabbing the lady’s hands, much as Mrs. Rathbourne had done to her, Rosanna beamed. “You are a dear! It has been such a battle to get the ladies to commit their time and talents to our cause. Mrs. Seward’s daughter-in-law has such an eye for organizing the program that I am determined to enlist her, but I fear she is so very busy at present—”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Rathbourne, straightening with a frown. “She and I have become very dear friends since she married Mr. Seward, and I am certain she won’t say no to me.”
And with that, Mrs. Rathbourne swept away to search for her friend with a determination that said the young Mrs. Seward would fall into line. Rosanna smiled to herself, her footsteps coming lighter as she wandered the ballroom, reveling in the two birds she’d nabbed with her single metaphorical stone. And the evening was still young.
Chapter 30
