Chapter Nine #2
“For now.”
“As your wife for now, I am quite happy to accept that you are unable to look after yourself,” she continued, a spark of mischief heating her, warming her where there had previously been naught but irritation and nerves. “So I shall resolve this for you. First question. To where are we headed?”
Samuel stared as though she had slipped into Italian—something Rose was almost certain she had not done.
“Where are we going?” Rose said, elongating each word and raising her voice. “Exactly?”
“I—I haven’t told you?”
The man was going to push her beyond the brink…
“No,” Rose said with a smile that she hoped extended to her eyes. “No, the last thing of note you said to me, beyond ‘You take the bed, I suppose’ and excuses over my lack of trunk was ‘In you get.’ And I have been in here ever since.”
It was not quite a prison—Rose had acted a marvelous role in Milan that required her character to be in a prison, and this carriage was more or less suitable. The blanket was welcome. Her continuous presence within it was not.
But anything would feel like a prison once one had spent so much time within it with absolutely no idea where they were going.
“Ah,” said Samuel, his expression awkward. “My apologies, I…we are going to my townhouse. In Mayfair.”
Mayfair. It had been a long time since Rose had been in London, but she had not forgotten Mayfair. “Excellent.”
“And we will see my family and—”
“Yes, yes, but if we are going to your townhouse, that means I can have a bath,” Rose said, words dripping with relief.
A bath. Clean clothes—a fresh gown, even if she had to borrow or send a servant to buy one. A moment to collect herself.
The role itself is not a bad one, she thought darkly as the carriage slowed, but the wardrobe thus far is disgraceful.
“And I really did send for your clothes. Or we can buy new ones, any that you want. My family uses a modiste who is… That is…” Samuel’s jaw slackened as his eyes widened.
Rose twisted in her seat, attempting to see what he was staring at through the carriage window. “What is it?”
“Oh, hell,” Samuel murmured.
Tension jolted across Rose’s shoulder blades. It wasn’t possible, was it? She had been most clear with Samuel that the news of their marriage was not to be publicized anywhere; she had been definite that there should be no announcement. So how would he know? He couldn’t—He wouldn’t be here.
“Who is it?” she asked, throat tight.
Samuel took a deep breath. “Everyone. They must have estimated our arrival. Maybe even been waiting hours outside in the cold, knowing them.”
For a moment, as the carriage was brought to a halt, Rose did not quite understand. Everyone? Hours in the cold? What on earth does the man mean?
Only when the carriage door was flung open and cheers started going up outside did she start to have an inkling.
Everyone…
“There he is! My word, we could hardly believe it when Uncle John—”
“The letter was hardly one to believe and yet here she is!”
“Move aside there. I want a look at her!”
“To think, Cousin Samuel is now married! Who on earth will be next? I’d like to…”
The cacophony of sound was unlike anything Rose had ever encountered—at least, outside a theater. Within a theater, she was quite accustomed to applause and riotous questioning and hallooing and chatter and people peering eagerly to take another look at her.
But it had always been her as a character. As Juliet, or Hermia, or Helena.
Not as…herself.
No, Rose reminded herself sternly as about twenty faces attempted to all look into the carriage. Not herself. As the Marchioness of Aylesbury. That was the role she was playing, and she had better be good at it.
Ten thousand pounds and a thousand pounds a year were at stake, and she was not going to lose that.
“I am so sorry,” Samuel began hurriedly.
“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, Sammy, you dolt,” said an imperious woman who had managed to elbow her way to the front of the gaggle. “And what’s this I hear about you getting married without my permission?”
Rose stared at the woman, who was magnificent.
Dark-chestnut hair was piled up and pinned with what appeared to be diamond slides, her stomach was swollen and rounded and surely would be placing her in confinement any day now, and there was a sharp look in her eyes that told the world she was not to be trifled with.
She would have to practice that look later.
“My sister Lilianna,” Samuel said as he rolled his eyes. “She thinks she’s head of the family, just because she got married the first of us and set up her own household before anyone else did.”
“And don’t you forget it, big brother.” The aforementioned Lilianna snorted imperiously, a hand on her growing belly. “Come on, then. Out with the pair of you. I want to have a look at this bride of yours.”
Rose stiffened.
She had spoken the truth to Samuel only moments ago; it was mortifying traveling with only the gown one had on.
It had been three days since she had worn another, and two days since she had been able to have more than a brief moment of toilette.
She was not fit to be seen by anyone, let alone her new husband’s sister!
And… And everyone else.
“I thought I’d bring the family round, get all the introductions done and out of the way in one go,” Lilianna said blithely over the top of Samuel’s protestations.
“I am almost a mother, you know. I can’t stand out here all day!
Come on, the sooner you meet everyone, the better!
We’ve been cold out here. We came rushing out of the house when we heard the carriage wheels, but not all of us are suitably attired for this weather. ”
“My wife is not suitably attired at all,” Samuel said quietly.
Rose did everything she could to guarantee that her cheeks did not burn a brilliant red. As it was, her face felt slightly heated…perhaps she was only a delicate pink?
“And why not?” demanded Lilianna. “Good God, man, the least you could do was ensure she was properly dressed!”
And it was the imperious tone of the woman to whom Rose had not properly been introduced that galled her to the point of idiocy.
Or brilliance. The two emotional states were so close together, after all.
“Out of my way, Samuel,” Rose said determinedly, pushing the man aside and stepping out into the brilliant winter sun.
There was indeed a crowd of people gathered on the pavement outside what was a truly splendid townhouse.
Many of them looked alike, family resemblances appearing in noses and jaws and hair color, and Rose was willing to bet that as many Chances as could be rounded up had been brought here to inspect her.
Well, she could not help but think ominously, it’s too late now. I married him.
“Lady Lilianna, I presume?” Rose said commandingly, drawing herself up to her full height and ensuring she exuded a powerful presence.
It would have worked, too, if she had not discovered three things.
Firstly, that Samuel’s sister Lilianna was easily three inches taller than her, so the other woman had the height advantage without any effort, not to mention the current advantage in girth.
Secondly, that there was a small coffee stain down the front of her own gown. Dear God, when had that gotten there? Why had Samuel not told her?
And thirdly, that being stared at by adoring fans from their seats in a theater was altogether different from being stared at by a bunch of lords and ladies who were all somehow her new family and were now whispering behind their hands at her in a way that told Rose quite firmly that she had in some way disappointed.
Worse. She had failed.
Lilianna raised an eyebrow. “The Countess of Taernsby, actually. And you’re Rose, are you?”
Rose swallowed. It was not meant to have been like this.
She was supposed to arrive at a pleasant townhouse, be welcomed in by a friendly butler and housekeeper, be introduced to maids who would immediately run her a hot bath and massage her scalp as she washed her hair, find a new wardrobe of elegant gowns waiting for her, and have about fifteen hours sleep in a good bed…
before even dreaming of being introduced to a woman as intimidating as her husband’s gorgeous sister.
It was not supposed to be like this at all.
There was movement from behind her. Samuel had exited the carriage and now had his arm around her shoulder. His actual arm!
The impertinence!
Never mind that Rose sagged into it with relief, grateful for the steadiness of his frame.
Dear God, am I…
“My wife is very tired from the ordeal of the journey,” Samuel was murmuring quietly, “and she needs rest. She can meet the family later.”
“But they’re all here!” That was Lilianna’s voice, Rose was almost certain. It was coming from a very long way away.
“Yes, but Rose, my wife, she—Rose! Rose, can you hear me?”
When Rose next opened her eyes, it was to look at a ceiling with the most spectacular cherub design. She was also lying down.
“Ah, you’ve come to.”
That voice was newly familiar, and her heart contracted with immediate panic.
“Now then, I admit, I was wrong to overwhelm you with so much,” Lady Taernsby—Lilianna—said matter-of-factly as she pressed what appeared to be a linen cloth bathed in lavender water to Rose’s forehead. “I had forgotten that my brother is an absolute arse.”
Rose swallowed. Her mouth felt dry and her head felt heavy, and she was lying on what appeared to be a chaise lounge in a room she did not recognize.
Another woman whom she also did not recognize was seated beside her, and she was shaking her head. “Cousin Samuel must have urged you from Brighton at top speed. No wonder you are exhausted.”
“How often did you stop on the way?” Lilianna asked brusquely, removing the linen cloth from Rose’s forehead.
“Thrice.” The word came out softly, but Rose could not speak more strongly. There did not seem to be any strength left in her.
“Only three times a day!” The woman slapped a palm to her chest, her mouth agape.
“Only three times since…since we left Brighton,” Rose admitted, feeling strangely like she was betraying Samuel’s honor as she did so.
“We had dinner and breakfast and spent the nights at two inns, but we rode hard and only stopped one other time for luncheon yesterday.” She didn’t mention how Samuel, in a sour mood, had seemed to have forgotten lunch entirely on their wedding day.
These family members would never know the seventh had been their wedding day.
The two women exchanged looks.
“I told you, Lucy,” said Lilianna darkly. “My brother is a complete dolt—but of course you know that, Rose. You married him.”
It was all Rose could do not to laugh. “I suppose I did.”
It all felt such a long time ago now, yet it had only been two days ago. Or three days ago? How long had she been unconscious?
As though her new sister-in-law could read minds, something Rose would not put past her, Lilianna said brusquely, “You’ve been out for about twenty minutes. Samuel said that if it went on any longer, we’d have to call the doctor, but—”
“Oh, no!” Rose sat up hastily and the elegant room in which she was located swam before her eyes. “No, I don’t wish to be a bother. There’s no need for that.”
“There’s a need for a doctor if I say there is,” came a low and oddly possessive voice.
Forcing herself to remain upright and pushing aside the dizziness that threatened to creep into the corners of her vision, Rose glanced over to the left.
There, standing against the wall with one foot leaning against it, concern in every inch of his expression, was…Samuel.
“You,” she exhaled, hardly knowing why.
He was kneeling beside her within three strides. “You had me worried there, Rosy,” Samuel murmured, brushing away some of her curls from her forehead.
His touch was gentle, and warm, and Rose swallowed with unexpected tenderness. “I-I… I—”
“The poor woman needs rest, Samuel, you complete dolt. Excuse me, Marquess of Complete Doltedness now, I suppose,” said Lilianna conversationally, as though she frequently chastised marquesses. “You both need rest.”
“I may have set the pace too hard,” Samuel said quietly, his gaze not leaving Rose, who flushed. “I’ve managed such a trip in just three stops before when it was just me or a friend and me—and the coachman.”
“Yes, well, wives are a different manner of traveling companion entirely,” Lilianna chastised. “Where was her lady’s maid? Her trunks?”
“I—” Samuel swallowed. “I’ll make sure she has both soon.”
“You’d better,” snapped his sister.
Samuel nodded, his chin tucked down like a chastened child’s.
This was intolerable! She could not feel tenderness for the man who had engaged her to act as his bride!
Though he was not doing a poor acting job himself, at the moment.
“You must accept our apologies for crowding you,” said Lucy quietly. “The whole family, I mean. We had no idea you had been scurried back in such a fashion.”
The two women glared at Samuel, who had the good grace to still look abashed.
“I had not thought—”
“Well, you’re a husband now, Sammy, you need to start thinking,” interrupted his sister with a wide grin. “For perhaps the first time in your life. This woman is a precious creature and we like her already. It’s about time you treated her well.”
Rose could not help but preen at that.
She’d done it. She’d done it by fainting, apparently, but still, she had done it. She had won over the family.
At least, two of its members…but if she was still as good a reader of people as she had been in Italy, Rose was willing to bet—not all her incoming fortune, but a great deal of it—that gaining the approbation of Lilianna, the Countess of Taernsby, would go a long way to securing the high regard of the entire Chance clan.
She had done it.
Lucy squeezed her hand. “We cannot wait to get to know you properly, Rose.”
Rose’s smile faded.
But of course, they liked the act. They appreciated a delicate woman who fainted at the first sign of difficulty, and she was pretty. They probably liked that too. But they didn’t actually know her.
They didn’t know of the life she had left behind. Of the secrets she still kept. Of the truth…
“I…I do not know what to say,” Rose said, with unexpected honesty.
And much to her surprise, her new sister-in-law gave her what had to be a genuine grin. “Welcome to the family, Rose. It’s utter chaos, and there’s usually a scandal every other Wednesday…but I think you’ll like being a Chance.”
Rose’s smile returned, though with a flicker of disappointment. “I’m sure as long as I am a Chance, I will enjoy it.”
For the next three hundred and sixty-four days.