Chapter 24
The next morning, before breakfast was even served, Adrian appeared at Thornefield with an urgent request to speak to Rosalind.
She was already downstairs in the parlor, dressed in her plain white muslin, her hair pinned only loosely up as she surveyed a list of things she needed to accomplish to turn the Marwood Dairy into a proper schoolhouse.
She looked up with surprise at Adrian’s entrance. If he makes a habit of this, I am going to grow more used to his presence than I care to admit.
“Miss Thorne.” He bowed crisply, and held out a small piece of paper. “I know this is an unannounced visit, and quite early—”
“What is this?” she came over and took the paper, her fingers brushing his as she did so.
“I found it in my saddle yesterday, after coming to see you.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “I came as early as I thought reasonable this morning, but I may have been a bit zealous…”
“Nonsense, you did the right thing.” She scanned the words on the page. Tell your lady she is being watched. “This reminds me of something.”
Suddenly, it clicked in her mind. She walked quickly over to a small chest perched atop the mantle and pulled from it the small note she’d received at the assembly. She brought it over, spreading it beside Adrian’s warning letter to compare the handwriting.
“It is the same,” she said, raising her eyes to him with alarm. “I thought… When my note said that ‘he was not as he seemed’… I assumed…”
“It was talking about me,” Adrian finished for her. “I did as well. I thought it was perhaps some tactic on Mrs. Vane’s part to make you doubt my intentions in helping Thornefield. Now I wonder if the ‘he’ you were being warned against was, in fact, Mr. Crewe.”
“Or Sir Percival,” she breathed, understanding dawning on her. “If that is the case, then the person leaving these notes is not threatening me at all, but rather trying to warn me legitimately against some danger.”
“Can you imagine why such a person would keep their identity a secret?” Adrian asked.
Rosalind considered a moment, but then shook her head. “I can only imagine, if no name is given, that the person responsible cannot afford to be revealed.”
“Regardless,” Adrian sighed, “I think we should take the matter very seriously. If you are indeed being watched, as the note suggests, then you may perhaps still be in danger. I showed it to Mr. Ferrand last night, and he has agreed to ride the boundary of both estates with me today, to watch for any suspicious activity.”
“You do not honestly think someone would come here to Thornefield and hurt me,” Rosalind said, suppressing a smile. “We have a full staff, and you are just over the hill. I cannot imagine anyone would be so brazen.”
“I would have said the same about Mr. Crewe’s scheme in its entirety,” Adrian answered gravely, and something in his eyes gave Rosalind pause.
“Yet he attempted things I consider completely brazen and inappropriate to fit his own ends. I will take these precautions until I have been assured of your safety.”
Rosalind’s breath was nearly taken away by the force of Adrian’s conviction and care.
“My lord,” she said carefully, “do you not think your duties to Thornefield have been fulfilled? You have been present and helpful at every turn for these last weeks, and I am quite grateful, but at some point I wonder if we may not be asking too much of your time.”
“We?” he asked quietly, taking a step towards her.
“The estate. My brother and I.” She felt suddenly flustered by his nearness. “It hardly seems fair that your attention is so wholly devoted to my safety and our well-being.”
He swallowed hard, and looked at her with an indecipherable expression.
“On the contrary, Miss Thorne, I am unsure of anything more worthy of my attention.” He took a shallow breath, and forced a smile.
“Have you noticed, Miss Thorne, that we speak so often of practical necessity and so rarely of the idle thoughts occupying our quieter moments?”
“Perhaps that is because we have shared very few quiet moments since coming into each other’s close acquaintance,” Rosalind responded, smiling in return. “You have helped me through a manner of crises, both big and small.”
“But you do have idle thoughts, do you not?” he pressed.
“Oh, Lord Marwood,” she responded, laughing despite herself.
“Of course I do. But you must be guarded with that knowledge and not allow it to get out to the world at large. Young ladies of high society are meant to always have something sensible upon which to rest their mind. Mrs. Hollis would even balk at the idea that I wasted a full half hour once attempting to decipher the limits of human knowledge and whether or not the mind begins as a blank slate.”
Adrian guffawed, genuine delight flooding his features. “My dear lady, I am quite taken aback by your frankness. I had thought to hear you wax eloquence on the type of flowers in your gardens, but your idle thoughts include… What is that… Kant?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed in response. “I read him to the girls sometimes, and we attempt to untangle the problems he presents with such efficacy.”
“You are remarkable. Do you know that?” The tone shifted again. A visit that had begun with practicality and warning, then shifted into easy camaraderie, suddenly slipped once more… and into something deeper that brought an unbidden flush to Rosalind’s cheeks.
“I was not aware, no,” she said softly, looking up into Adrian’s steady gaze.
“Well you ought to be,” he answered. “People should be telling you about your remarkable nature much more often than they do.”
The moment stretched between them like an invitation, Rosalind hardly breathing, Adrian holding her gaze. At last, he broke away, clearing his throat.
“Please humor me,” he said, looking out to the lawn outside Thornefield. “Do not leave the house grounds without a groom accompanying you.”
Rosalind hesitated, still trying to catch her breath from the unspoken moment that had passed between then, and then nodded. “I will be cautious.”
“Good day, Miss Thorne.” He reached out and took her hand, bowing gently over it. Rosalind felt his fingers on the inside of her wrist like a brand. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his hand away, bowed again, and took his leave.
***
“Still,” Mrs. Hollis said, her eyes wide with alarm, “I think you should be taking this more seriously, Rosalind.”
She had just learned of the letters and the warnings over breakfast, with Harry listening in.
“I am taking it quite seriously,” Rosalind said. “Have I not just told you and Harry to stay close to the house today?”
“Yes, but you dismissed the concerns as nothing,” Mrs. Hollis pressed, “and framed the entire affair as a favor to Lord Marwood, not a protection of your own person.”
Rosalind poured herself some tea, and winked at Harry. “I will be as safe as I can manage, Mrs. Hollis, but I shall not live in fear. In fact, I plan to ride out to Annie’s house this very afternoon with a basket. She and her family are ill, and will not have proper access to nourishment.”
She raised a hand to prevent her friend and former governess’ protest. “I shall of course ride with a groom, as Lord Marwood requests. But I will not remain indoors because some stepbrother chooses to haunt my steps.”
“Can I ride out with a groom too?” Harry asked brightly.
Rosalind laughed. “A worthy attempt, brother, but I am afraid not. Lord Marwood will be over tomorrow for another riding lesson. He says you can ride out together, away from the paddock, though.”
“Well,” Harry grumbled, “at least there is that.”
“Dear,” Mrs. Hollis pressed again, “the notes are disconcerting, to say the least. If someone feels sure enough of a bad outcome to send a letter—”
“I am not afraid,” Rosalind interjected quietly.
She searched her heart, landing on the true emotion without much effort.
“I am,” she confessed, “angry. If this is a further ploy to pester me and my household, then it will fail. I am frustrated that so much damage has already been wrought. Let us enjoy our breakfast without giving further rein to fear.”
She took a piece of back bacon and a small spoonful of eggs, straightening her back and eyeing her two companions as though to dare them to bring up the possibility of further calamity.
Harry shrugged. “We can speak of other matters,” he said, innocently. “For instance, I have been meaning to ask you about Lord Marwood. Do you think he will propose soon? I wish to know whether to call him ‘my lord’ or ‘Adrian’—for I am certain that once you are wed formalities will cease.”
Rosalind choked on a sip of tea, sputtering it back into her cup without a shred of dignity. She met Mrs. Hollis’ eyes across the table—the older woman had to cover her face with a napkin to hide her smile.
“Harry,” Rosalind retorted simply, hoping her tone would convey her disapproval.
He opened his eyes wide. “It is simply a pertinent question, sister. I meant no offense.”
“I have no reason to think Lord Marwood intends to propose to me,” Rosalind said, gathering her wits about her at last. “And it would be most trying if you were to hint any such thing in his presence.”
Harry shrugged. “But if he were to propose—”
“Harry!”
The thirteen-year-old shrugged, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and took a large bite of toast, shrugging as if it were of no matter to him after all.
***
Rosalind waited until after breakfast, which passed without further incident, before going down to the kitchen to prepare a basket for Annie.
She packed it carefully with fresh, good foods that filled the Thornefield pantries and gardens but were, perhaps, less available to a girl living in a peasant cottage on the outskirts of the village.
Then she pulled together a few herbal remedies, and finished the basket off by slipping one of Annie’s favorite novellas in amongst the goods for reading through the illness.