Lady Evan Wins the Day Read online

  “This is my first London Season,” Rosalind said hastily. “And before my marriage, I spent many years in the country.”

  Mrs. Landon’s brown eyes lit up. “Oh, how I envy you! I grew up in London, and I dearly love the country.” She gave a soft laugh. “My husband claims he has to drag me to London every year, even though he loves his estate as much as I do.”

  The love for her husband shone in her eyes. “I confess, I did spend my early years in London,” Rosalind said, unsure why she felt she should tell her personal history to this stranger. “It was only when I was twelve that I went to the country to live with my cousin and uncle. I thought I would be happy to return to the city, but I find I’ve become something of a country mouse since I left. I do not fit into polite society.”

  “That is not such a bad thing. Polite society is not as polite as they claim to be,” Mrs. Landon said, nodding in understanding. “In fact, some can be cruel.”

  “If I’d behaved as some society ladies have or had conversations on certain subjects, my mother would have sent me to my room and never let me out.”

  “And my governess would have made me write a hundred lines of how I ought to improve myself,” Mrs. Landon agreed with a laugh.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Rosalind saw the approach of an older matron. “Mrs. Landon, how kind of you to make Lady Evan feel welcome tonight!” the woman exclaimed as she drew near. “I am unsurprised that you two have found each other.”

  There was an odd note of amusement in the woman’s tone. Rosalind searched her memory, trying to determine whether she’d met her before. The face was familiar, but not the voice. Someone she’d seen at another event but hadn’t met? Why was it so remarkable for her to be speaking to Mrs. Landon?

  “Lady Leith, I was not expecting to see you tonight,” Mrs. Landon said, her tone becoming cool. Or was that Rosalind’s imagination? “Is Sir Horace and dear Celia here as well?”

  “My son chose to remain at Clarendon with his wife this year.” Lady Leith’s manner became one of suppressed fury, and she drew herself even straighter. “How kind of you to remember them.”

  “Ah, yes. Now I remember. Sir Horace and dear Lady Leith are expecting a new addition to the family, are they not,” Mrs. Landon said with a smile. “You must be pleased to have a new grandchild to dote on.”

  The dowager’s lips curved into an insincere smile. “Of course. What a remarkable memory you have, Mrs. Landon.” She turned her gaze on Rosalind, who had been watching the conversation with some confusion. “So, you are Lord Evan Westwood’s wife. The daughter of Mr. John Emerson, if memory serves me correctly.”

  No one had been bold enough to mention Rosalind’s father to her face. “You are correct,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. “Were you acquainted with my parents then?”

  “I know of them and that was sufficient. Let us hope you have not inherited your father’s unfortunate tendencies.”

  Rosalind froze, her breath catching in her throat. How dare she say such a thing? It had been nine years since her father had... What did this woman have to gain from mentioning something so far in the past? Did she simply delight in scandal?

  “Here come our husbands now,” Mrs. Landon said cheerfully. “I’m sure Lord Evan will be delighted to see you again, Dowager, and offer his opinion on this matter.”

  The older woman’s eyes flicked around. “Another time, perhaps. I should return to my seat. Good evening.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Mrs. Landon said in a low voice as the dowager walked away. “Hoggish old woman.”

  Shocked to hear her new friend use such slang, Rosalind let out a laugh. It helped calm her racing heart. The last thing she wanted was for Evan to see she had been upset. “She is remarkably forthright,” she managed to say. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction. I’m sure I would have remembered it.”

  “These past two years she has made it her sole focus to be disagreeable to all the debutantes and newcomers into society,” Mrs. Landon said, shaking her head. “I don’t think she is fond of anyone save for her son. I’ve never even heard her speak of her grandchildren.”

  “Was that the Dowager Lady Leith, Rosalind?” Evan asked as he held a glass of amber liquid out to her. “I didn’t know you two had met.”

  “We hadn’t, until now,” Rosalind said as she took the glass. She sipped the liquid without really tasting it. “To be honest, I don’t think I can call it an introduction. She thought it necessary to comment that Mrs. Landon and I were having a conversation.”

  Though she had tried to choose her words with care, they were enough to catch her husband’s attention. Evan’s eyes narrowed. “She did, did she? Did she say why it was so extraordinary?”

  “Gerard, I must introduce you to my new friend,” Mrs. Landon said, speaking up before Rosalind could think of a diplomatic way to answer her husband. “My lady, this is my husband, Mr. Gerard Landon. Gerard, Lady Evan Westwood.”

  Mr. Landon gave a bow and smiled warmly at Rosalind. “Delighted to meet you, my lady. Lord Evan and I were just becoming reacquainted ourselves. It has been several years since we were at school together.”

  As the man introduced his wife to Evan, Rosalind took the time to compose herself. She knew Lady Leith’s words ought not to bother her, but they’d had a threatening note she found unnerving. How long before everyone was whispering about her father’s ignominy as well as her poor background?

  With relief, she realized the program was about to recommence. “Let us hope they saved the best for last,” Mrs. Landon whispered.

  “I dearly hope so,” Rosalind felt bold enough to say in answer. She settled into her chair, forcing Lady Leith’s words away. Evan’s hand clasped hers, offering further reassurance.

  “IT WAS A SURPRISE TO see Landon after all this time,” Evan said in the carriage. It was well past midnight as they journeyed from the Willis home. “We’ve not spoken together in several years, but he’s a trump. I’m sure his wife will be a good friend for you.”

  “I believe she will be,” Rosalind said with a sigh. There were not many Evan called ‘a trump,’ a good sort of friend. She leaned against her husband’s shoulder. “We share the same taste in music. Perhaps we can invite them to join us at the theatre sometime soon?”

  Evan wrapped his arm around her. “What an excellent suggestion. Now, will you tell me what the dowager said that upset you so much?”

  “It was nothing.” As she spoke, Rosalind couldn’t hold back a sigh. “I must learn not to be so sensitive.”

  “You looked as though you’d seen a ghost. I would hardly call that nothing. Tell me. If she was disrespectful or cruel, I want to know.”

  “And do what? She’s just a harmless woman with little to occupy her time. I will not honour her with my attention.”

  Shaking his head, Evan hugged her close for a moment. “You are too forgiving sometimes, Rose. Tell me what she said. If she was cruel, I will have a word with her.”

  “I doubt that would accomplish anything, but since you insist.” Rosalind then explained what Lady Leith had said, leaving out how threatened she felt by the woman’s words. “We knew there would be some sticklers who would remember my father’s disgrace. I suppose we should count ourselves fortunate we have come this far without a similar incident. ”

  “True. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from the dowager’s sharp tongue.” Evan pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “She is acquainted with my mother, and I know how disagreeable she can be.

  “Mrs. Landon took it all in stride and annoyed her in return.”

  Her husband made a noncommittal noise. “Perhaps, now that you’ve had an unpleasant encounter, you can relax. You’ve faced the beast and won the day in spite of the dowager’s unkindness.”

  Somehow, Rosalind was not convinced that was true just yet. However, she put the matter from her mind as her husband captured her lips with his.

  C
hapter Two

  Smoothing the pale pink skirt of her morning gown, Rosalind steeled herself to enter the sitting room. Though she had been hoping for some privacy to write letters, she found her sister-in-law, Lady Thomas Westwood, already there.

  “Good morning, Rosalind,” the woman said, lifting her gaze from the embroidery. “How was the soiree last night?”

  Just the person she’d hoped to avoid. Holding back a sigh, Rosalind forced a smile. “Good morning, Henrietta. The soiree was entertaining. A few of the ladies could have benefitted from more practice with a master, but I did enjoy myself.”

  “Well, we cannot all have your patience for such a task.” Henrietta took up her needle again. “I did warn you that the performances would disappoint you, did I not? You and Evan ought to have come with us to the Dunbar dinner and met some of my friends.”

  Resisting the impulse to cringe, Rosalind went to the desk and sat down. She’d met the Dunbar family once and had no interest in furthering her acquaintance with them. That Henrietta said they were her friends was concerning. “I hope you had an enjoyable evening as well?”

  “Well enough.” Henrietta heaved a dramatic sigh. “I do wish I had won more at the card tables, but such is the way those things go. I’m sure I will do better next time.”

  Offering what she hoped was a sympathetic smile, Rosalind focused on the letter she wished to write. She and Emily had played card games for treats or other small treasures, but neither had ever risked what little money they had possessed. Once they had grown, they both had kept far from any wagers or games that involved high risk.

  Others in society, of course, were not so careful. It had come as a shock to realize Evan’s brothers and their wives were fond of gambling. As she thought about it, Rosalind couldn’t be sure if Evan enjoyed the activity himself. He never mentioned losing or winning at cards or any other wagers.

  “Has Evan mentioned any prospects of a house for you?”

  Startled from her musing about her husband’s activities, Rosalind glanced over. Henrietta was bending over her embroidery as if to give the appearance the question was casual.

  “He hasn’t said anything about it,” Rosalind said, watching her sister-in-law curiously.

  “I see.” The disappointment in Henrietta’s voice was clear to hear. “Well, I am sure he is doing all he can. Perhaps next time he will make a decision before all of the good addresses have been taken for the season. Or perhaps you will purchase a townhouse for yourself.”

  Rosalind had long suspected her sister-in-law was not pleased with having them in her house. Nevermind her exclamations of them being welcome and that they must stay for however long necessary. After two months, it was easy to understand how they would have overstayed their welcome.

  “Perhaps, if we do not find something, we will simply return to Darkhall,” Rosalind said, trying to reassure the other woman. Oh, how she hoped that would be the case! “The last thing we wish is to be a burden to you and Lord Thomas.”

  “My dear, you mustn’t worry about something so trivial,” Henrietta was quick to say, her tone still polite. “Thomas and I are delighted to have you. Now, I confess if we’d had any of the children with us, it would be a bit cramped. But, of course, they are too young to come to town.”

  “You must miss them,” Rosalind said softly, thinking of three nephews she’d met briefly in the fall. They’d all had the Westwood features, making her think her husband must have looked just like them as a boy. And it gave her an idea of what her own son may look like. The thought sent a burst of longing through her.

  Henrietta lifted her shoulders. “Oh, no more than usual. They have their lessons with their tutor and Nanny looks after them the rest of the time. It won’t be long before they go off to school, you know.”

  The woman’s attitude reminded Rosalind too much of her uncle’s behaviour towards Emily. He’d always been kind, but not attentive. A nanny and governess had ruled the nursery for several years after Rosalind’s arrival. It hadn’t been until her cousin was sixteen that Uncle Lawrence had taken more of an interest in his only child.

  “You must have many improvements planned for Darkhall,” Henrietta continued, glancing over. Though her needle was in her hand, she made no move to continue her activity. “The last time Thomas took me there I remember how grim and uninspiring everything was. I can recommend an excellent architect to make alterations.”

  “Thank you, but I have no plans at the moment,” Rosalind said, shuddering at the idea of taking on a large project. “Darkhall is charming as it is and seems sound. I don’t think there is anything that needs updating or changed.”

  “Charming? That old heap? My dear, you are in need of more help than I thought. I could make a list, several pages long, of all the improvements that place needs.”

  Bristling at the woman’s tone, Rosalind shook her head. “I appreciate the concern, but Evan has said nothing about desiring any changes to the house. He’s concerned about the drainage in one of the fields, of course, so we must wait until that is taken care of before we consider any other project.”

  Henrietta waved her hand. “What do we care about a field’s drainage? I assure you Darkhall will need a complete renovation to be considered acceptable. In fact, it may be beneficial to find a townhouse while the changes are made. I cannot imagine residing in a dwelling while construction is occurring. The noise! The dirt!”

  Tired of the conversation, Rosalind decided to end it. “I will speak to Evan. Thank you for your advice.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there is no need to speak to Evan.” Henrietta laughed as she spoke. “The appearance of a house rests in the hands of the mistress. After you consult with an expert who has seen the house, make the decision and then tell Evan how much it will cost. He can have no objection. That is how things are done.” Henrietta gave a decisive nod as though she considered the matter settled.

  Having no intention of doing any such thing, Rosalind offered one last smile and then bent over her letter.

  Dear Emily,

  How are you, dear cousin? Have you tired of traveling? Where are you at present? What new adventure have you had on your journey?

  I do wish you had made it to London for the start of the Season. It has been harder than I’d ever imagined being comfortable among strangers. A few of the matrons have frowned in such a way I truly believe they remember the sins of my parents. Evan’s family have been kind, of course, but I can’t help feeling they are disappointed in Evan’s choice of bride...

  Breathing out, Rosalind sat back. It had been freeing to put her thoughts and feelings on to paper, but she knew she couldn’t actually send the letter. It would only worry her cousin, and a worried Emily was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Trouble?” Henrietta asked, her tone sweet.

  “No. Simply trying to find the words to describe the Season to my cousin,” Rosalind said honestly. “She has been traveling, so I imagine nothing here can compare to what she has seen these past few months.”

  The words appeared to appease the woman for she turned back to her embroidery. Biting her lip, Rosalind selected a fresh piece of paper, thankful to be in a position for such extravagance. She folded her first attempt, intending on consigning it to the first fire she found and began again.

  Dearest Emily,

  What new wonders have you discovered this week? I think you know what life in London can be like and there has been little change, so I shan’t bore you with the details of where I have been or what I have seen.

  I will tell you who I have met. An old friend of Evan’s and I do believe his wife shall be a good friend. We have similar taste in music, and you know how much that means to me. I think you would like her...

  WHILE HENRIETTA REMAINED at home to callers, Rosalind decided she would enjoy making her own calls. Once she was in the carriage, she made a mental list of the places she intended to visit. One address was the most important. Mrs. Landon had been kind enough to extend an invitati
on to her, and she was eager to become better acquainted with the woman.

  Of course, there were one or two other society matrons Rosalind felt obliged to call upon as well. She intended to keep those visits as brief as was socially possible. Connections must be maintained, no matter how tiresome the task was, and she had been brought up to do her duty.

  By the time she reached the Landon townhouse, Rosalind felt as though her face was permanently frozen with a polite smile. It was only when Mrs. Landon crossed the drawing room to grasp her hands that the young lady felt more herself. Her smile felt more natural as she greeted her new friend.

  “I was so hoping you would come,” Mrs. Landon said. Her short curly hair was held back with a pale blue scarf. “I’ll send for fresh tea, and we can get comfortable. You can stay for an hour or two?”

  “That would be lovely.” Rosalind sank onto the settee. Mrs. Landon spoke to a maid and then came to the sofa.

  “I gave instructions that I am not at home to any other callers,” she said with a pleased smile. “My mother-in-law is out making her own calls, so we will not be interrupted.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize Mrs. Landon resided with you.” Rosalind felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Forgive me. That was rude.”

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Landon hastened to assure her. “If we are to be exact, my husband and I are guests of his mother. She insists she needs his companionship during the Season. She relies on him, you understand.”

  “My husband’s mother is the same, though Evan is the youngest,” Rosalind said, desperate to move past her thoughtless comment. She cast her mind for a more suitable topic. “I was told Evan and your husband were great friends in school.”

  Mrs. Landon gave a nod. “So I’ve heard. I remember Gerard mentioning his friend was marrying and curious about who had finally caught West’s attention. I believe he rather approves of you, my lady. You seem to be of a practical disposition, which is all too rare.”