A Vow For An Heiress. Helen Dickson

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СКАЧАТЬ going through. She could empathise with her, for had she not lost her own love, Simon Garfield? His death had been final. It need not be like that for Clarissa. Andrew was not dead. Rosa closed her eyes, close to tears. Angry and emotional, everything inside her wanted to reach out to her dear sister, knowing how traumatised she would be if she was forced to go through with this marriage. Rosa felt she needed to help her defenceless sister, but to do that she would have to stand up to their grandmother. Amelia Ingram was a formidable lady, but she also suffered ill health and Rosa had been deeply concerned about her when she had seen her in London. She was worried that her grandmother wouldn’t be strong enough to take on the task of arranging marriages for Clarissa and herself.

      On a sigh she leaned her head against the cushioned upholstery and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift back to Antigua and Simon. What they’d had had been sweet and gentle, their relationship happy and fun loving. His sunny smile and dark brown eyes were imprinted on her soul. His death on a fishing trip had been a blow she had believed she would never recover from. She had successfully repressed her feelings for him, but at times like this, they rose to the surface. It was impossible to stop loving someone just because they had died. The pain of her lost love was still there and she knew it would be a long time before she was truly able to say it didn’t hurt so much.

      The coach made good speed, the horses moving briskly through winding, narrow roads overhung with branches as they neared Fountains Lodge. With Clarissa, she had been to England only once in her life, when she had come to Berkshire for an extended visit. The surprising thing when they neared the house was how familiar everything seemed, from the unfolding landscape and the villages they passed through, to the impressive Ashurst Park in the dip of a valley, the sprawling ancestral home of the Earl of Ashurst. They passed the gilded, tall wrought-iron gates which carried the Earl’s crest. The house could not be seen from the road, but on her rides she had looked down on it from the surrounding wooded hills.

      Soon Fountains Lodge, a fine seventeenth-century manor house, came into view. Set back from the village of Ashurst, it was a spacious house, east of which were outbuildings and stables arranged around a sizeable courtyard. The Ingram family had built it and remained in possession since. Apart from Amelia Ingram’s maid and housekeeper, who had their own rooms, the staff needed to run the house lived in the village.

      On reaching Fountains Lodge, Rosa strode into the hall with a winning smile for the hovering servants while removing her bonnet and shaking out her bright chestnut mop of curls, which rioted in a wild explosion about her head.

      ‘Hello, Grandmother,’ she said when the elderly lady entered the hall, her cane tapping the tiles as she walked stiffly forward to welcome her granddaughter. Elegant with a regal bearing, at seventy-five she was a small fragile woman. Arthritis and the years had worn away the muscles of her youth, leaving behind a shell of a woman. Her aloof, unshakeable confidence and bearing came from living a thoroughly privileged life. Being a small frail lady, it was difficult to believe she could be so formidably assertive.

      ‘You’re here at last and about time, too.’

      ‘It’s good to be here. How are you, Grandmother?’

      ‘Better now I am home.’

      Amelia cast her eye over her younger granddaughter, knowing she would have her work cut out if she was to see her married in the near future. Rosa’s manners were unrefined and, unlike Clarissa, she knew nothing about genteel behaviour. She was a wild child, as wild as could be. She was intelligent and sharp-witted. She remembered her as being a problematical child—a constant headache. She was also proud and wilful and followed her own rules, but Amelia would not concede defeat.

      ‘We expected you some three days ago. I trust Clara was feeling better when you left London?’

      ‘She was much improved and sends her love to you both. But I’m here now and it’s lovely to see you again.’

      Sweetly Rosa kissed her grandmother’s cheek before going to Clarissa, who followed in her grandmother’s wake. There was an almost translucent quality about Clarissa. As sisters they were not unalike, apart from the colour of Clarissa’s eyes, which were blue, and her hair, which was a light shade of brown. But where Clarissa was of a gentle, placid nature, Rosa was more spirited and inclined towards downright rebellion when crossed, with a wilful determination to have her own way. She was two years younger than Clarissa, but she always felt the eldest. As a result, without any parental control, Rosa had a strong sense of responsibility towards her sister. The sisters hugged one another, uttering little cries of welcome and pleasure. At last they drew apart.

      ‘I’ve looked forward to your coming, Rosa. I imagine Aunt Clara was reluctant to let you leave.’

      ‘She was, but she hopes to see us soon when she comes here for your wedding.’ Clarissa’s smile faded, making Rosa wish she had never mentioned it.

      Amelia tapped her cane on the floor. ‘We have much to do if Clarissa is to marry our neighbour, the Earl of Ashurst.’

      ‘I shall do all I can to help with the arrangements. I like to be kept busy.’

      ‘I intend to see that you are—with matters concerning your future role in life. I haven’t forgotten that a husband must be found for you when Clarissa is settled—although I realise how difficult and unyielding is your nature.’

      ‘Father would doubtless have agreed with you. He ever despaired of me—but the same could not be said of Clarissa,’ she said, reaching out and squeezing her sister’s hand affectionately. She was worried about her sister, who seemed to have lost all her usual vitality. ‘In his eyes you could do no wrong. But where I am concerned, Grandmother, I am in no hurry to wed. I am not like my father. I am a realist. I can see things for what they are and I know I will never be accepted into the upper echelons of the aristocratic society my father aspired to. He could never see that.’

      Their father had been known on the island of Antigua as a hard, authoritative man who worked long hours on his plantation and fully expected everyone else to do the same. Unfortunately, the authority he showed in his working life did not produce the same results in his younger daughter, who was known for her lack of discipline and her inclination to defy his direction, which did not apply to his elder daughter, who was a credit to him.

      ‘You are right, Rosa,’ her grandmother remarked, ‘but nevertheless he was your father and you must respect what he wanted for you and Clarissa.’ There was a hoarseness in her voice that told Rosa of her grandmother’s inner grief over the death of her only son. ‘He may be dead, but you have a duty to abide by his wishes,’ she reminded Rosa, as she did every time Rosa broached the matter. ‘It was his wish that you come to England, where you will be taught the finer points of being a lady—and I shall see that you do if I expire in the attempt. And despite what you have just said, a title will open many doors that will otherwise remain closed while ever you remain plain Miss Ingram. God willing, I will see you both suitably settled before I die.’

      Rosa swallowed down the lump in her throat. How difficult life had suddenly become and how difficult the transition had been for her to leave her beloved Antigua and come to England. ‘I will try not to be a disappointment to you, Grandmother. I will try not to let you down.’

      She spoke truthfully, for she really didn’t want to disappoint her grandmother or upset her in any way, but she was determined to have some say over her future.

      Rosa, always intuitive to her sister’s moods, looked at her, her brow creased with concern. Not until they were in Rosa’s bedchamber and Clarissa had closed the door did they have the chance to talk.

      ‘What is to be done, Rosa?’ Clarissa said, thankful СКАЧАТЬ