Chapter 7
Upon Arrival
These were thoughts, with their attendant visions, which occupied and flurried her too much to leave her any power of observation.
Jane Austen, Persuasion
“Well now!” Mr. Leigh, the landlord of the Green Briar Inn, placed the step beneath the carriage and held up his broad, calloused hand to help Rosalind down.
“Good morning, Miss Thorne. Or I suppose I should be saying Mrs. Rutherford, shouldn’t I?
” Leigh gave Rosalind a heavy wink and a grin as he used Rosalind’s nom de voyage.
“We’ve been expecting you an hour since. Welcome to Bath!”
Adam dismounted his horse and came to Rosalind’s side. At the same time, Laurel, their maid, climbed down from the box and immediately began to give orders to the inn’s porters about the luggage.
The Green Briar stood on the edge of Bath’s oldest quarter.
It was a U-shaped building with a deep cobbled yard and open balconies on the second floor.
When the weather was good, trestle tables and benches filled the courtyard.
Rosalind had heard that once upon a time, traveling players had performed in that yard, and that the landlord was in the habit of telling his guests that one such troop contained a promising young playwright named William Shakespeare.
“Hush now, Leigh!” The landlady bustled up to the carriage, drying her hands on her starched apron. “She’s traveling quiet like!”
Mrs. Leigh was a wiry, dark woman with a sharp nose and a chin to match. Her gaze was as shrewd as it was lively. Rosalind could feel her taking in the dress and details of her new guests with an exactness that would have done credit to any London hostess.
“Oh, get away with you, woman!” her husband cried cheerfully.
“There’s none to hear. Now then, Mr. H… Rutherford is it?
” Leigh clapped Adam’s hand in friendly greeting.
“You’re both welcome! Ah, now there you are, Mrs. Kendricks!
Here is your—” Leigh broke off because his wife was glowering at him, and pulled a face. “—Mrs. Rutherford come to stay.”
The woman who emerged from the inn was plainly related to Mrs. Leigh. Indeed, they were almost twins. Mrs. Kendricks was also a thin, dark woman. She also had the same severe eyes and narrow hands that Mrs. Leigh possessed.
It had been years since Rosalind had last seen her.
Mrs. Kendricks had kept house for Rosalind’s family.
When her father deserted them, Mrs. Kendricks stayed.
When her mother died, and even Rosalind was forced to move out of her godparent’s house, Mrs. Kendricks had come with her.
She’d even—albeit reluctantly—assisted in the first of the inquiries that had confirmed Rosalind as a useful woman to know if one was attempting to avoid scandal, or worse.
They had finally parted ways when Rosalind turned down Devon’s proposal of marriage once and for all.
With that act, Rosalind had decided to walk toward the very uncertain future that held her independence, and her relationship with Adam Harkness.
This time, Mrs. Kendricks chose not to follow her.
As a woman who had already worked through years of little or no pay, she had to consider her own future.
So, when her sister in Bath offered her a place helping to run their inn, Mrs. Kendricks decided she would accept.
Rosalind missed her but did not in any way blame her.
Rosalind had, after all, rejected both security and societal expectations for the slenderest of reasons.
Also, it was generally expected that an employer would provide their closest servants with a pension, or legacy.
Rosalind could promise Mrs. Kendricks neither.
At the time, she couldn’t even have promised to keep a roof over their heads.
Now, Rosalind met Mrs. Kendricks’s searching gaze, and was aware of being very nervous, as if she’d been called into the headmistress’s office.
“It is good to see you again, ma’am, sir.” Mrs. Kendricks dropped a brief curtsy.
“Mrs. Kendricks,” said Adam. “You are looking very well.” He bowed.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied stiffly.
Mrs. Leigh was looking curiously from Adam to Mrs. Kendricks. “Well, now, I was just about to show Mrs. Rutherford up to her rooms.”
“Oh, you needn’t bother, Mrs. Leigh,” said Mrs. Kendricks. “I’ll do that. If you’ll come with me, ma’am?”
“I’ll follow with the trunks, ma’am,” said Laurel to Rosalind.
Miss Thorne thanked her and started after Mrs. Kendricks, leaving Adam to pay off the driver and make arrangements for the return of the extra horse they’d hired.
Once Rosalind had agreed to help Miss Kinsdale, it had taken three full days to organize their travel plans to Bath.
To begin with, Rosalind found herself with over two dozen letters to write.
First, she wrote to Clara Kinsdale to affirm that she would be traveling to Bath as soon as possible to look into matters there.
Then, it was necessary to arrange lodgings, because Rosalind and Adam might need a freedom of movement that they would not find if they stayed either with the Kinsdales or Devon.
After that, Rosalind wrote to her sister, Charlotte, and to her friend, Sanderson Faulks, requesting their help with various matters.
After that, she wrote to her patronesses and her current clients, clarifying the state of all their affairs.
She informed them that while she was away, Miss Alice Littlefield would be supervising all current matters and making sure they were proceeding as expected.
Alice, in turn, spoke to her brother George, as well as her particular friend, Amelia McGowan.
She let them know she would be managing Rosalind’s business for the next fortnight or so, and that she would be grateful if they would call on her at Orchard Street, preferably during the days when anyone who might be paying attention could see them, and thus be led to believe that Miss Thorne remained at home to visitors.
After that, there were letters to write to various friends and acquaintances to try to find out if anyone might have known a financier named Lynn who had married a Miss Sylvia Westerford.
In particular, Rosalind wrote to Devon’s cousin, Louisa.
While Devon and Miss Kinsdale said she had been unable to help them, it was possible that time and consideration might have unearthed something from her, or her husband’s memory.
Replies were to be directed to the Green Briar Inn in care of one Mrs. A. Rutherford.
Adam, for his part, had requested permission from Sir David Royce—the coroner for London and Westminster whom he served as an assistant—to take leave.
Once this was granted, he arranged to hire a carriage and horses for the journey.
He also engaged a driver—who, for a relatively modest additional fee—was willing to drive the carriage to Clements Circulating Library on the day of their departure.
There, the driver met with a gentleman dressed in a plain buff coat and tall hat, who was accompanied by a lady in a straw bonnet and light blue pelisse, and that lady’s maid.
He then drove these persons to Orchard Street, where he let them out.
Roughly half an hour later, he returned to the same house. A man in a plain buff coat and tall hat, accompanied by a lady in a straw bonnet and light blue pelisse, emerged, followed by the lady’s maid. The whole party climbed into the carriage and drove away.
Shortly after that, anyone who was watching the house would have seen another lady, in a much lighter bonnet and a green coat, going to and fro on various errands about the neighborhood, accompanied by her petite, dark-haired friend.
Had they stopped to gossip with the neighbors, they would most certainly have been told that the taller lady was the notorious Miss Rosalind Thorne, and the other was her friend Alice Littlefield, and they were doubtlessly up to some of those inscrutable “doings” that the lady seemed continually involved in.
“And here we are, ma’am.” Mrs. Kendricks opened the door to Rosalind’s room.
It was small but scrupulously clean, and while the bed was narrow, it was comfortably made up with thick quilts and snow-white pillows.
The wardrobe, table, chairs, and washstand all looked to be in good repair.
There was even a window out onto the courtyard.
“The parlor’s at the end of the hall,” Mrs. Kendricks said. “I’ll have the girl bring up tea and there’s fresh bread and a good stew on the fire now if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kendricks. That will be lovely.”
Mrs. Kendricks met her gaze. Rosalind found she was holding her breath.
“You look well,” said Mrs. Kendricks.
“Thank you,” said Rosalind. “I am well.”
“Truly?” A world of meaning filled that single word.
Rosalind nodded. “And vastly content. But how are you?”
“Run off my feet daily,” Mrs. Kendricks answered, and they both laughed a little.
“But the work is good and there’s the children, and my sister.
I am glad to be with my family, and I find I quite like being part of building a good living to pass onto the young ones.
Not that I regret my time in service, of course. …”
“Of course not,” said Rosalind promptly. “I am glad you’ve found yourself a good place here. I know you’ve always preferred a busy house.”
“That I have.” Mrs. Kendricks smoothed her skirts needlessly. “Well, I had best let you settle in. There’s some letters for you on the table, and a card came just this morning.”
“Thank you. And, Mrs. Kendricks?”
“Yes, miss? Ma’am?” she quickly corrected herself.
“Would you spare a kind word for Mr. Harkness?” asked Rosalind. “He’s afraid you don’t like him.”
Mrs. Kendricks lifted her chin, but Rosalind did not miss the sparkle in her eye. “I dare say, that since you look well, and are, as you say, vastly content, I can bring myself to extend some Christian charity to the man.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kendricks,” said Rosalind solemnly. “You set my mind quite at ease.”
“Not at all, ma’am. Ring if you need anything.”
The door opened then, and Laurel arrived ahead of a strapping young man bearing Rosalind’s trunk on his shoulders. Mrs. Kendricks slipped away, and Rosalind and Laurel began the business of unpacking her things and putting the room in order.
At the same time, Rosalind found herself with the melancholy awareness that at least for now, she would not be saving room for Adam.
The journey to Bath had been a strange interlude for Rosalind. She and Adam had decided that they would travel incognito, and for simplicity’s sake, give their names as Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford.
To have a wedding trip, however brief, before the wedding was scandalous in the extreme.
At one time, Rosalind would have turned away from even the suggestion that she would do such a thing.
Even now, if it was discovered she had traveled incognito in Adam’s company, Rosalind might come to regret it.
For this moment, though, she found herself enjoying an unexpected sense of discovery.
It was her first time playing through the day-to-day details involved in an intimate partnership, and she was pleased to find that there were a number of practical advantages to the arrangement.
Rosalind was, of course, perfectly capable of giving instructions at a coaching inn.
But as Mrs. Rutherford, she could give instructions to the landlord while Adam, as Mr. Rutherford, dealt with the grooms and arranged for the change of horses.
Then, while Mrs. Rutherford gave orders for their dinner and dickered over the cost of candles and fresh linens, Mr. Rutherford saw their bags ferried up to the room for Laurel to unpack.
At first, Rosalind thought Laurel might be an awkward presence for the journey.
It was necessary for Rosalind to have a maid with her, otherwise no one would believe her to be a lady of any standing whatsoever.
Laurel, however, proved herself to be a very easy companion.
She declared that since it was her first time leaving London, she was determined to view as much of the country as she could, and coaxed their driver to allow her to sit up on the box with him.
This left the interior of the carriage entirely to Rosalind and Adam.
Although, sometimes, when they slowed for some obstacle or to pass another carriage, Laurel’s careless laughter floated down from the box and they found themselves looking at each other with raised brows.
“Should you say something to her?” asked Adam.
“She’s above twenty,” said Rosalind. “And she’s been in service much of her life, which means she’s hardly a sheltered girl. Her sister runs a boardinghouse, and looks after their ailing mother, and they depend on Laurel’s support, so I do not think she will risk too much on a light flirtation.”
“Well, then, perhaps we should follow her example?” Adam took her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers. “Have I told you, Mrs. Rutherford, how very lovely you look today?”
“Mr. Rutherford, you are incorrigible.”
“Entirely, Mrs. Rutherford.”
If their two days of travel were filled with tiny discoveries, the night was a haven of ease—beginning with the fact that they could enter the same room without creating suspicious looks.
There was no need for Adam to wait until the household had gone to bed so he could sneak in to meet her, and he did not have to leave before dawn.
Rosalind could fall asleep beside him, knowing that she would wake in the morning and see him there—rumpled and stubbled and yet somehow handsome beyond her wildest imaginings.
She could relish the moment when he yelped and laughed because she had pressed her cold feet against his, or when she yelped and started because he rolled over and threw his arm around her waist.
At the last post inn before Bath, they stopped once more.
There, Adam hired a horse, so that he could ride into town as the proper escort of an unmarried lady.
The change left Rosalind feeling more bereft than she expected, and she found herself musing over the details of her trousseau with unusual sentiment, and wondering if there might be money enough for at least a short honeymoon.
There will be time enough for all that, Rosalind told herself sternly. For now, there is work to do, for both of us.