The Duke's Rose: A Clean Historical Regency Romance (Tales of Bath) Page 3

  “Annabelle is still very weak from her exposure to the cold and I want to ensure that her health is restored, before she can move. I have brought a tincture of herbs and honey that should help, and I think a few weeks of Mrs. Shaw’s delicious cooking should help the girl.”

  “Oh, I doubt if we cannot presume on Sir Faversham’s kindness for such a length of time doctor, and I also do not think I can be away from my girls for such a time either.”

  Sir Henry would think nothing of it.

  “Madam, it is no trouble. Annabelle can stay here alone. She will be well chaperoned by Mrs. Shaw, although that is not entirely necessary. She has nothing to fear from me.”

  He indicated the chair.

  “I suggest, now that you see that young Annabelle is on her way to recovery, you can go back to your daughters with a clear conscience. We will send her home when she is fit enough to travel.”

  Vivian bit her lip. She had said too much as usual and not thought things through. She had wanted to stay at Wallington Manor and become better acquainted with Sir Henry, in order to steer one of her daughters into his path.

  But perhaps this would turn out for the best?

  “You are right, of course, Sir Henry. We cannot go against the good doctor’s recommendations. I will return home tonight, now that I know dear Annie is on the mend. I will send Charlotte to call on her soon, if that is acceptable?”

  Henry Faversham agreed readily, happy that he would not have to entertain the woman.

  “I will send my carriage for your daughter, Madam, as soon as the patient is well enough.”

  6.

  One of the finest bedrooms in Wallington Manor was prepared for Annabelle, and she spent the next couple of days being coddled by Mrs. Shaw, who had taken quite a shine to the young girl. Jenny, the young housemaid, was also allowed to sit with the girl for a while, since the two girls had already met and it was someone of Annabelle’s own age to talk to.

  For three days, Annabelle stayed her room. During that time, Henry Faversham busied himself. His own room had been adapted to his needs and was now located on the ground floor. Since his accident, he had never ventured up the stairs, because he never needed to. With the help of Perkins, he had managed to live an almost normal life. His own valet had shown too much sympathy and pity for Sir Henry, following the accident, and he had been dismissed shortly after. Now, only the rough coachman was allowed to help. He was a man of plain speaking and little emotion, which served his master well.

  However, something had happened to Sir Henry, and whilst he could not see the girl, he could not stop thinking about her. She had awoken something in his heart. Something in her helplessness, had stirred his old broken heart. He thought he could never feel this way again and yet he had softened. He now awoke anew each morning, looking forward to the day ahead, for once, instead of wondering how to spend the lonely hours. Once again, he saw the beauty in nature. The rolling hills and trees of the landscape outside his window, now took on a new freshness that he had not noticed in years. The girl had done all of that, and he had barely spoken a word to her.

  But then, a shadow would fall across his heart. It was ridiculous—a man of his age, a cripple, too. She was so young, and had all her life ahead of her.

  On the fourth day, Dr. Harris called and recommended that Annabelle was well enough to rise from her bed and be allowed downstairs in the afternoons.

  With no ladies’ maid in the manor, the young girl, Jenny, helped to dress her friend and tidy her hair, before carefully walking down the grand staircase and into the Drawing Room.

  The room was as she had remembered it when she had first awoken, and she sat by the fire, thinking of all that had happened over the last few days. Sir Henry, and everyone at Wallington Manor, had been so kind, and it was the happiest that the girl had been for such a long time. Yet, her heart was sad, because this was just a fleeting spell, and she knew that she would have to go back home soon.

  However, it was no use in crying. Her life was hard and she must endure it the best she could.

  As she sat there thinking about going back home, Elsie rattled in with the tea tray and disturbed her thoughts.

  “The Master is out at present, Miss, but I expect him back shortly. I have made you some hot tea and cake. Now, that will put some meat back on your bones. You are nothing but skin and bone, lassie.”

  It was true, Annabelle still looked thin and rather waif-like, and much younger than her actual years. The dress from Charlotte was far too big, and hung loosely around her waist and shoulders, making the girl look even more thin and fragile than she actually was.

  The tea was hot and sweet and the cake delicious.

  Although the room was very comfortable, it was rather masculine with little in the way of a feminine influence. Annabelle walked around the room, noting the portraits and pictures that hung there. Most were of shooting scenes, or austere looking men, whom she imagined relations of Sir Henry, there being some resemblance.

  A smaller picture caught her eye, half hidden in the shadows of the late afternoon.

  It was a lady, a very beautiful young lady with light hair and blue eyes, almost like her own.

  “That is my late wife, Catherine.”

  The door had opened and Sir Henry sat in the doorway, watching the young girl without her knowing.

  Perkins pushed his master to warm himself by the fire and then left the room.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, I did not hear you arrive.” Annabelle hastened back to her seat by the fire, worried that she might have upset him.

  Sir Henry smiled. It was the first time he had actually looked at the girl properly. She was far too thin, her cheeks still hollow, the blue eyes solemn and wide in the pale face. His heart ached.

  “Do not worry, girl. I am cold after my journey. Pour me some of that tea, and I will have a slice of that delicious looking cake, and you can tell me all about yourself.”

  Annabelle blushed as she poured the tea. She could hardly mention life at home with her aunt and cousins and she rarely had any time of her own.

  “I have little to tell, Sir.”

  “Come girl, you are too modest. Tell me what was so important in the village that I found you half dead in the snow?”

  The girl looked awkward and Sir Henry regretted the words as soon as he had spoken them.

  “Forgive me, Annabelle. I may call you Annie perhaps? I am a gruff man with little company here. I ask too many questions and you are still not well.”

  “I am feeling a little better, thank you, Sir. And I am grateful to you for all of your kindness.”

  “Think nothing of it, and please, call me Henry. Now, do you like reading?”

  The young girl’s eyes lit up. Her uncle had bought her books when he was alive, yet she hadn’t read anything since his death.

  “I thought you might. Young Jenny is always reading novels from my library. My dear late wife, Catherine, loved to read. Poor Jenny, she is always in trouble from Mrs. Shaw for reading when she should be working. There is a selection of books in the library you might like to read. Oh, and I almost forgot, I bought you these today. It is not much, but I thought they might cheer you up a little.”

  From beneath his chair, Sir Henry produced a small package and handed it to the girl. Her eyes opened wide.

  “For me?”

  Taking the parcel, she carefully opened the paper. Within it was a selection of silk ribbons and a magazine, La Belle Assemblie, which was for ladies in society.

  Annabelle felt her eyes start to fill with tears. It was so long since anyone had shown her any kindness.

  Sir Henry watched the girl anxiously.

  “I hope the ribbon is of the right color. I thought it would go well with your color hair. My wife …”

  He broke off as the young girl began to cry.

  “My dear, what is wrong?”

  The young girl shook her head.

  “It is nothing, Sir Henry. The gifts are very thoughtful i
ndeed. I am so very happy.”

  On an impulse, the girl crossed quickly to Sir Henry and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  “You have been so very kind, Sir.”

  Sir Henry Faversham could feel a lump in his throat, as he felt the soft kiss upon his cheek. His heart swelled, full of emotion for the young girl by his side.

  •••

  The next days were spent in a gentle harmony. Annabelle explored the wood paneled Library and found the novels that had belonged to Catherine Faversham.

  Whilst she sat and read by the fire in the Drawing Room, Sir Henry attended to his business, writing out his letters and seeing to general matters affecting the Estate. He employed a man who took care of most of the business on the Estate, but Henry liked to know what was happening and keep his hand in everything. In those quiet afternoons, he found it difficult to concentrate, and often found himself looking at the quiet girl, illuminated by the fire, and his thoughts turned to love and not business. He doodled idly with his pen and ink, trying to capture the silhouette of her likeness on his blotter.

  Occasionally, she would look up from her reading and catch him looking at her, smile shyly back at him, before returning to the pages of her book.

  Over dinner, they would sit opposite each other in the large dining hall, the candles dancing prettily in their cornices. Henry would tell her all about his day, and once she had overcome her initial shyness, Annabelle began to tell him a little about herself, particularly about her parents and what she could remember. She also spoke of her late uncle and his kindness, but spoke little of her aunt. When questioned, she would always give the same response—that her aunt had given her a roof over her head and for that she was thankful. She would not say an unkind word about her aunt.

  Sir Henry did not push her on that point.

  After dinner, he asked that she read to him, anything, it did not matter. It would soothe him after a day at his accounts. She chose a selection of Shakespeare sonnets, a pretty little leather bound volume with Catherine’s name inscribed in the inner cover. As she read, he could see that that she was tired and after a few minutes, asked her to pass the book to him, so that he might read to her.

  He turned immediately to Sonnet 18 and started to read in his clear deep voice.

  “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

  Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

  Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

  And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

  Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

  And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

  And every fair from fair sometime declines,

  By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

  But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

  Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

  Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,

  When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.

  So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

  So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

  The poem reflected everything that he felt about the girl, the words that he could not speak. Annabelle closed her eyes and listened, as she curled up on the chaise lounge. She was tired and rather sleepy after a heavy meal. She had read the poem many times before. It was a beautiful poem, but somehow she had not realized how beautiful.

  The words seemed different when read to her, almost as if the poem had been written about her. It was only then, that she realized that Sir Henry Faversham was falling in love with her. She could hear it in every word that he spoke and she suddenly felt afraid. Not of the man himself, but of her own feelings. She was grateful to the man for his kindness, but she did not love him. At least, not how she expected to feel love. Afraid that he would declare his love, she feigned sleep.

  When the poem was finished, Henry Faversham looked up at the girl. Her eyes were closed and she was dozing peacefully by the fire. Ringing the bell for Perkins, he instructed his man to bring blankets to cover the girl. He did not want to disturb her slumber. He was an old fool, and it was all for the best that she was asleep.

  7.

  Vivian Roebuck had been waiting impatiently for nearly a week for a word from Sir Henry, when finally word came in the form of a note, delivered by Perkins. He would call for Charlotte the very next day at noon to take tea with Sir Henry and Annabelle at Wellington Manor.

  The mother instructed her eldest daughter on how to win over Sir Henry Faversham.

  “Now, do try and be modest, dear. Do not try and be too clever in your conversation with him. And smile at the man, show interest in what he is saying, even if you do find it boring. And make sure your cousin has been behaving herself. We do not want her to get in your way. I do not know what she can have been doing over this last week. You must bring her back home with you. This is your one chance to get a rich husband, Charlotte. You might not get a chance like it again. And make sure you leave with an invitation to go back.”

  Charlotte pulled a face at her mother. Of course, she wanted a good marriage, but she had hoped for someone a little younger. Still, she had already started to dream of being called Lady Charlotte Faversham of Wallington Manor.

  •••

  On the carriage journey and at last away from her mother, the girl started to make her plans. She would charm Sir Henry from the moment she arrived and soon put her dowdy cousin in the shade.

  However, the girl was disappointed that he was not there to greet her in person. She had worn her best dress and new pelisse to no effect. The surely Perkins helped her roughly down from the carriage and escorted her into the Drawing Room, where she was told to sit and wait for her cousin.

  Charlotte felt most indignant. She was not used to waiting for her cousin—it had always been the other way around. When Annabelle finally entered the room, she was ready to give the girl a piece of her mind.

  “I suppose you think that you are clever, Annie, acting as if you are lady of the house? Well, Mother says I am to bring you back with me. You have been away too long and it is not proper for you to stay here any longer. We are not to take charity from Sir Faversham.”

  Annabelle was not stupid. She could see that her cousin was dressed in her best clothes and guessed her aunt’s intentions. She would not mind so much if it were Charlotte, and not she, staying here at the Manor. She was not afraid of her cousin, but she knew that once she was out of the safety of Wellington Manor, Charlotte could make things difficult for her.

  “It is nice to see you too, cousin. I shall ring for some tea.”

  The two girls sat in silence. Annabelle had been dreading the day when she would have to return home. The arrival of Charlotte had brought her back to reality. The last few days now seemed but a dream and already a fading memory.

  Another half an hour passed by in silence. Charlotte was wary to say too much to her cousin, whilst under Sir Henry’s roof. There would be time enough for that when they were back home. She would keep her own counsel for the present.

  At last, Sir Henry arrived home. As Perkins wheeled the chair into the Drawing Room, Charlotte stood to greet him, smoothing down her dress and giving her curls a pat.

  “Sir Faversham. How pleasant it is to see you again.”

  Holding out her hand, she smiled coquettishly.

  Ignoring her hand, Henry gestured for Perkins to wheel him toward the fire.

  “Forgive me, Miss. Roebuck, but I am cold and need to sit besides the fire. Your mother is well, I hope?”

  “My mama is in good health, sir, and cannot wait for Annabelle to be back home, where she belongs.”

  Henry looked at both girls. He felt a sharp pang in his chest at the thought of the girl going back home and leaving him alone once more. He had grown used to the girl.

  “Is that so, Miss. Roebuck? Well, I am afraid that Annabelle must stay here for at least another few days. We must ensure she is fully fit and well before she ventures ou
t.”

  “But mama gave me strict instructions that I must bring Annabelle back home with me today.”

  The girl was used to having her own way at home and did not expect to be challenged.

  “Well, I am afraid that your dear mama will have to be disappointed. It is on the doctor’s orders, I am afraid. And we all want what is best for Annabelle, do you not agree?”

  The girl was speechless as Mrs. Shaw brought in the tea.

  Sir Henry was surprised by the silence between the girls. Annie had spoken little about her home life, but her cousin was only a few years older and he had thought that the two girls would be on friendly terms.

  As the cups of China tea were passed around, Charlotte suddenly started to show an interest in her cousin.

  “Mama and I have been wondering what you have been doing for the past week here in Wallington Manor. We hope that you have not been too much of a burden for Sir Faversham, Annie?”

  Henry smiled, understanding the girl’s game.

  “Your cousin has been kept very busy and quite out of my way, Miss. Roebuck. As a matter of fact, she has been reading. I have an extensive library here in the Manor and my late wife was an avid reader. You are free to take a look yourself, if you would like to?”

  Charlotte pulled a face.

  “Annie is our bookworm. I’m afraid that I do not care very much for reading, Sir. I much prefer my sewing and playing the pianoforte.”

  “I have a very grand pianoforte here in Wallington. I’m afraid it hasn’t been played for many years, as it belonged to my late wife. You see, she had all the refinements, where I have none. Perhaps you will play a little something for us, whilst you are here?”

  If truth be told, Charlotte was not a very good player. She had little patience that was needed for practice, but she had wanted to impress Sir Henry.

  “You do me a great honor, Sir, but I am not sure that I have the time today. I am sure that I have prevailed upon your time enough. I promised my dear mama that I would not be late home, and now I have seen Annie looking so well, I can put her mind at rest. I will tell her we can expect Annie home within the week.”