The Birthday Present (28 page)

Marcus took a deep breath. ‘There’s another possibility, of course. You might marry me and then I wouldn’t need a housekeeper.’

Rose looked at him through narrowed eyes. Was he serious? Surely not.

With a quick glance at her, he went on. ‘Not much of a prospect though, is it? I mean, hardly a tempting offer. The Bennleys are a rather  . . . How can I put it? Not exactly a successful family. So many problems. Unconventional is probably the kindest way to describe us.’

He twiddled with his pencil, stabbing the point into the blotter until it broke. After a moment he reached for a small penknife, opened it and began to sharpen the pencil.

He was avoiding her gaze and looked thoroughly ill at ease. Rose said gently, ‘Don’t be so hard on your family, Marcus. It’s nobody’s fault poor Marie died  . . . or that Bernard jilted Letitia.’

‘Or that Steven ran up large debts and has been forced by me into joining the army!’

‘You did what you thought was best for him. It will be good for him.’

‘I’m wondering what will happen next.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Maybe we’re accident-prone.’

He looked so wretched that Rose began to worry about him in earnest. ‘Is it because of your mother and Gerard? They seem very happy. I know your mother left you but not until you were able to survive without her  . . . and she owed it to Gerard who had lived all those years without anyone to love. She had a terrible choice to make.’

‘It just seems to me that being a family is fraught with difficulties. Look at your family.’

‘We’ll survive,’ she said hopefully. ‘Life’s never perfect, is it? Everyone has failures and  . . . and disappointments. We all make mistakes.’

‘I worry about Letitia. She will probably die an old maid.’

‘Die an old maid?’ Rose laughed. ‘She will do no such thing! Your sister is going to marry Jean-Philippe. She doesn’t know it yet but he took one look at her and was totally smitten. I mean it, Marcus. I have seen the writing on the wall.’

‘Jean-Philippe? I don’t believe it. He’s a fisherman.’

‘But he’s a successful fisherman – and what’s more he’s a happy, honest man and he loves her. I saw it in his eyes, Marcus, and I was so envious. It was so  . . . so
romantic
! No man has ever looked at me that way. Jean-Philippe is ten times the man Bernard is!’ Seeing that he looked unconvinced she said, ‘Wait and see, Marcus. Before too long there’ll be a letter in the post telling us the news. At the moment Letitia is still in a state of shock from the wedding disaster and still believes she is pining for Bernard but  . . .’

To her surprise, Marcus was shaking his head. ‘She will know by now that there is no hope for her there.’

‘We don’t know that for sure, Marcus. He might suggest they try and work through this setback. After all—’

‘No, Rose. It won’t have a happy ending.’ Briefly he told her about the letter from Alicia da Silva which he had forwarded to Wissant.

To his surprise, when Rose had recovered from the shock, she almost cheered at the news. ‘Letitia would never have been able to trust him,’ she declared firmly, ‘and Bernard might always have had lingering regrets. Not to mention Carlotta who might have done her best to drive a wedge between them. Letitia will be much happier with Jean-Philippe.’ She smiled. ‘It was
meant
, Marcus. Do you see? Sometimes Fate steps in and turns everything upside down!’

He looked doubtful. ‘So  . . . if you’re right, Letitia will never live here again?’

‘I doubt it. She will live in Wissant near your mother and Gerard  . . . and one day, no doubt, the farm will be hers.’

‘Oh dear! Then I shall live here all on my own!’ He looked shaken. ‘What a bleak prospect.’

‘You’ll have the housekeeper,’ she said innocently.

Rose saw that his hands were shaking. Without looking up he said, ‘If you married me, Rose, you could stay here and keep me company  . . . You’d have to be a little mad to even think of such a thing. I can’t compete with the romantic Jean-Philippes of this world but  . . .’

Rose stood up, leaned across the desk and gently took the penknife and the pencil from him and laid them down. ‘I think I’ve always been a little mad,’ she said softly. ‘You may have noticed.’

Marcus looked up at last. ‘Rose, this is serious. I’m asking you to marry me. Are you saying “Yes”?’

‘I don’t know  . . . I need some time to think about it  . . .’ She closed her eyes, then immediately opened them. ‘There. I’ve thought about it long and hard and the answer’s “Yes”. Is that serious enough for you?’

‘And you won’t change your mind?’

‘How could I? I seem to have fallen in love with you.’

He gave a deep sigh of relief, pushed back his chair and came round the desk, a tentative smile on his face. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Marcus Bennley doesn’t have the same ring as “Miss Rosie Lamore” but—’

‘No, it doesn’t but –’ Rose threw her arms around him – ‘I may be able to live with the disappointment!’

A year later almost to the day, there had been some changes in all their lives. Mrs Bray had returned for a final six weeks in order to give Rose cookery lessons, before retiring.

Rose, a harassed expression on her face, was creating a game pie when Steven came into the kitchen. He kept well away from the table as he turned round to show off his uniform. On leave for the weekend, he was keen to impress the few members of the household who remained in Victoria House.

Mrs Bray, her hands on her hips, said, ‘Well, you do look smart! Have you shown yourself off to your brother yet?’

Steven grinned, nodding. ‘He managed to tear himself away from his latest design to give me a quick glance.’

‘And said what?’ Rose abandoned her pastry while she inspected him.

‘Marcus thinks a few medals would do wonders for the outfit!’

‘Medals?’ Mrs Bray tossed her head. ‘You have to earn them first!’

‘Give me a chance, Mrs Bray. I haven’t seen any action yet.’

Rose said, ‘Well, I think you look very good, Steven. Lord help the enemy when you go into battle.’

‘But it suits you,’ Mrs Bray told him. ‘Army life is a world of its own. I always thought you’d make a splendid officer. I shall tell my mother when I get home this evening. I’ve told her about you and she’s very interested. Both her brothers were soldiers.’

Rose lifted a floury hand to point to the dresser. ‘There’s a letter from Letitia on the dresser. She’s still taking French lessons and—’

He frowned. ‘Is she still converting to the Roman Catholic church? It seems very dramatic – oh yes, I know. It’s to please Jean-Philippe and her father but is it right for her?’

Rose shrugged. ‘She promised him before they were married that she would consider it and now she’s very willing. It matters more now because of the baby they’re expecting. His family are all Catholics and Letitia wants to blend in. Mother doesn’t seem worried. She says Letitia’s very wholehearted and is embracing all things French.’

Mrs Bray said, ‘A friend of mine converted at the age of nine when she was adopted by a Catholic family and she says it didn’t make much difference. As long as you believe in something – that’s what I say.’

Steven looked at Rose’s creation. ‘You’d better get on with that pie, Rose. I shall be starving by the time it’s ready. Life in the army does that to you. It’s all the exercise and rushing to and fro.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I’ll read Letitia’s letter later. I thought I’d go along to Marie’s grave now. Shall I take some fresh flowers?’

Rose said, ‘Oh yes please! If you wait I’ll cut some roses.’

She looked appealingly at Mrs Bray who said, ‘You run along. I’ll finish the pie.’

‘Bless you!’ Rose hurried out into the garden.

Steven watched as the housekeeper brushed the pie with egg and milk.

Mrs Bray looked up at him. ‘Is she going to wed your brother or isn’t she? I can’t bear the suspense!’

He grinned. ‘Of course she is but they’re in no hurry. They’re taking time to get to know each other  . . . and you, Mrs Bray, will receive an invitation to the wedding. That goes without saying.’

‘That’s all right then!’ Mrs Bray’s smile broadened. She opened the oven door. ‘Lunch at one, remember. I hope the army has taught you to be punctual! You don’t want to be late for Rose’s first game pie!’

‘I wouldn’t dare!’ he laughed.