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"It is very kind of you to say so, ma'am," Elizabeth said, rising decisively to her feet and folding her embroidery into her work bag, "but lam in the sort of position in which I belong. And I have no wish to marry. Come, Cecily, love, it is time to go to your room to get ready for di
Elizabeth escorted Cecily to her room, rang for her maid, and retired to her own room to get ready for di
Elizabeth Rossiter was six and twenty years old. She looked the part of a governess as she dressed for di
Elizabeth had been considered an exceptionally beautiful girl when she made her come-out in London at the age of twenty. Not pretty, but beautiful. The fact that she had spent five years ru
Things might have gone well for her there. She had made friends, she had had admirers, her engagement calendar had constantly been filled. Aunt Matilda had been hopeful of her making a good match despite her lack of fortune. Elizabeth often wondered what might have happened had she not met Robert, but, of course, such thoughts were useless conjecture. She had met Robert and fallen in love with him and… But she had trained herself over the long years not to think of that episode in her life.
The fact was that even before the end of the Season she had been back in the country with her father and that within a year he had been dead. No one had been more surprised than she to discover that her father had left no debts. Even so, the estate was impoverished, and bringing it back to prosperity would be a long and tedious business tor her brother, who was still only eighteen years old. A jood bailiff had been hired to reverse the neglect of years, while John finished his studies at university. Elizabeth had reached the decision to seek employment and had found a position with the Rowes in the West Country. John had been upset and, in fact, had constantly tried to persuade her to resign her position and to move back home. But 1'lizabeth had been adamant. She would never marry- her experience in London had assured that. And she would not burden her brother with her presence. She had been glad of her decision when John married at the age of two and twenty and a child arrived the following year. She was delighted, too, to know that the estate, though still not prosperous, was begi
Elizabeth descended to the dining room when the bell sounded, and spent the next hour listening, in some amusement, to Mrs. Rowe rhapsodizing about the expected pleasures of the coming weeks.
"So you think our new neighbor will soon be riveted to Cecily, do you, my love?" Mr. Rowe asked, chuckling at the blush that immediately brightened his daughter's cheeks.
"Papa!" Cecily cried. "I do not even know if I shall like him. I do not even know that he is handsome, though Ferdie says he is."
"What does that signify if he has the handsome fortune that I have heard he has?" her father replied with a twinkle.
"Well," Cecily said doubtfully, "but I should hate it, Papa, if he were positively ugly."
"Depend upon it, my love, if he is wealthy, he is probably handsome too," Mrs. Rowe comforted.
Mr. Rowe chuckled. "Is it not a blessing, Miss Ross-iter," he commented, "that our country is not ruled by a woman's logic?"
She smiled. "Ah, but it is a woman's romantic view of life that keeps it from becoming dull," she replied.
"Then we must look for a duke, at least, to be part of the Ferndale party," Mr. Rowe said, directing his attention back to his plate again, "for you, of course, Miss Rossiter. Who could be more romantic than a Cinderella figure?"
"That would be very fine," she agreed gravely, "but we should have to prevail upon Mrs. Rowe and Cecily to conspire to keep me busy in my rags so that I could not attend the ball."
"But it is your idea not to have anything to do with elegant company, my dear," Mrs. Rowe interjected. "I would like nothing better than for you to meet a duke. The idea of my trying to prevent such a match! Is there to be a duke as a member of the party, Mr. Rowe?"
Her husband smiled fleetingly at his plate, but directed at his wife a secretive look that raised her curiosity and anticipation of the proposed arrivals to near-fever pitch.
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The topic of Mr. Mainwaring and his anticipated arrival had hardly begun to flag one week later when it was given a reviving boost. The ostler of the Granby i
Mrs. Rowe had to live with her impatience for two whole days before her husband made the promised call on the new arrivals. Her only consolation was that the other gentlemen of the neighborhood would be feeling similar scruples about descending too early on the new owner of Ferndale. Mrs. Claridge would surely have found an excuse to call if she had had any information, and Lady Worthing would have found a more subtle way of informing her supposed inferiors if she knew anything of the identities of the visitors.
No soldier marching into battle has been more lovingly sent on his way by his womenfolk than was Mr. Rowe when he departed for Mr. Mainwaring's house. He was sent back upstairs once to change his coat because the first one was too loose for current fashion. He complied with his wife's demands with an amused indulgence and pinched his daughter's chin as he made his escape to his waiting horse.
Mrs. Rowe and Cecily jumped to their feet in unrestrained excitement when he strolled into the drawing room a little less than two hours later, and Elizabeth smiled up at him from her embroidery.