Cinders & Sapphires (17 page)

Rose walked over obligingly. “Well, ma’am, I”—and at that instant she caught sight of the newspaper on the table. Her stomach turned over as she spotted the photograph. The paper lay directly in front of Mrs. Verulam; there was no way she could fail to see that the real version stood before her.

“It was the stitch I wanted to ascertain,” Mrs. Verulam went on, as Rose failed to answer. “The beads are very pretty but I think I would prefer jet…” She looked encouragingly at Rose.

“I…” Rose’s voice seemed to have taken a leave of absence. She hoped she was not going to faint. There was a terrible silence.

“Come along, dear, don’t be shy.” Mrs. Verulam sounded impatient.

Rose managed to stammer out an explanation of the stitch. Mrs. Verulam listened, nodding. It began to dawn on Rose that Mrs. Verulam was
not
trying to lead her around to admit she was the girl in the picture. Incredibly, it seemed she had not made the connection. After all, it was not surprising, Rose thought. Ladies and gentlemen hardly looked at servants; to see them outside of their usual employment was not merely shocking—it was inconceivable.

But as for the ladies in her own family—that was another story.

“Thank you so much, Rose.” Mrs. Verulam smiled as she came to the end of her explanation. “Now, I must be taking my leave. Fiona, if you have any light to shed on this mystery”—she gestured to the paper—“you will let me know, won’t you? The whole of London is talking about it.”

As Fiona escorted Mrs. Verulam to the door, Rose dared lift her head and look around. The expression on Miss Charlotte’s face extinguished all hope. Lady Ada was quite pale.

As soon as the door was closed behind Mrs. Verulam, Charlotte burst out, “This is the last straw!”

“It’s quite horrible,” said Fiona through white lips. She strode over to the table, picked up the paper without looking at Rose, glanced at it, and threw it down again. “I cannot believe Sebastian would be such a fool. Kissing—actually kissing—her! She must have made a play for him. Nothing else explains it. The manipulative, shameless…and I do believe she is actually wearing Ada’s new dress.”

“My lady, I didn’t make a play for him!” Rose burst out. At the same moment, Ada exclaimed, “I can explain the dress. And I’m sure there must be some explanation”—her eyes pleaded with Rose to say there was—“for the other thing. Isn’t there, Rose?”

“Please do not encourage that fallen creature to address you,” Fiona said icily. “It is a matter of disgust to me that such a person remains in this room. Given the insult to your dignity and ours, I am sure you will not have the slightest objection to dismissing her without notice or a reference, this instant.” She rang the bell.

Rose turned white. The room seemed to spin. “Oh, my lady—please, no!” She felt sick. How could it have come to this? She had never wanted Mr. Templeton to kiss her. “Please, if you only ask Mr. Templeton—I’m sure he will explain it wasn’t my doing—”

“Hold your tongue, hussy!” Charlotte snapped. Rose flinched.

Fiona continued to ignore Rose.

“I don’t consider Sebastian blameless; however, he should know better than to be caught by a scheming little minx like that. She must have been planning this for months.”

“It’s not true! I didn’t—” Rose knew she was making things worse for herself by speaking, but she could not help it. It was too unjust.

“Will you hold your tongue!” Charlotte repeated. She looked at Ada. “You can explain the dress? How, pray?”

Ada blushed and stammered, “I—I—lent it to her.”

Charlotte snapped out a disbelieving laugh, and Fiona raised her eyes to the heavens. “Ada, I have no idea why you are so keen to defend your maid, but please do not expect us to believe something so outrageous. Not even you could be so blind to every sense of propriety—”

“Well, it’s true!” Ada’s temper was roused at Fiona’s scornful tone. “Rose is a very talented composer, and she deserved to go as much as any society woman.”

“A talented…” Charlotte shook her head. “Ada, she is your
maid
. How could she possibly be a talented composer? You have no idea how ridiculous you sound.”

“I knew it would come to this when you said you read books,” Fiona said coldly. “Clearly there is no talking sense to you. I order you to dismiss your maid. As your stepmother, I can do so.”

“No!” Ada cried out.

“I expect her to be gone from this house in an hour or less,” Fiona said. “Come along, Charlotte. Ada, you know your duty.”

She turned and swept out of the room. Charlotte followed.

Rose, from pure shock, burst into tears as soon as the door had shut behind them. Through her sobs, she became aware of Ada’s comforting arm around her shoulders. Guilt twisted her heart—how could she have let Lady Ada down like this?

“Oh, Lady Ada,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I had no idea he was going to do it, I truly didn’t. I don’t know what I did to lead him on. I didn’t know how to tell you, and he said he didn’t know what came over him—I had no idea this horrible photograph would appear.”

Ada patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Rose. I believe you. I don’t think you would ever have done something like this on purpose, and Sebastian is a thoughtless fool—though this does seem shocking, even for him. He must have known the photographers would be there.” She sighed. “You shan’t lose your place. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen. Now dry your eyes and I will see what I can do to soothe Fiona’s and Charlotte’s wounded pride.”

Ada was shaking inside as she went out of the drawing room after her stepmother and stepsister. She had disgraced herself, in their eyes, and she knew that perhaps nothing she could say in Rose’s defense would be good enough. But she had to try.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw a familiar, tall, fair-haired figure pacing in the hall.

“Sebastian!” She ran toward him. “What were you thinking?” she demanded in a hissed whisper, aware of the footmen stationed at the door. “How could you do such a thing? Have you no decency?”

“I know, I know,” Sebastian groaned. “I came as soon as I saw the papers.” He was in an odd mood, Ada realized, both penitent and in high spirits. She frowned. Had he not yet realized what a disaster this could be for Rose? When she spoke again, her voice was cold.

“Well, you had better explain exactly what your part in all of this was to your mother and sister. They are determined that Rose should lose her place, with no notice and no character. They think she snared you. I think that’s as likely as a rabbit snaring a poacher.”

“Lose her place?” Sebastian sounded genuinely shocked. “No, that mustn’t happen. Let me explain to them.”

They found Fiona and Charlotte in the conservatory, talking in low, furious voices.

“Mother, I’ve come to explain,” Sebastian began at once. “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick. It was my idea to take the girl out, and it was my idea entirely to kiss her. She was taken completely by surprise and cried all the way home. I won’t see her lose her place—she was not at fault, it was me.”

No one spoke for several seconds.

“Well!” Charlotte broke the stunned silence. “I must say, Sebastian, this surpasses even your low standards.”

Sebastian flushed, but answered with forced good humor. “I deserve that, I’m sure. I’m sorry that it ended up in the papers. But if you must punish someone, punish me. I deserve it, not Rose.”

“You are quite sure you have not compromised yourself?” Fiona said in measured tones. “You understand, don’t you, that that photograph could easily be used in a court of law to support a breach of promise case.”

“Rose would never do such a thing,” Ada said, scandalized.

“Don’t be naïve, Ada. She’s a poor girl, and there is plenty of money in breach of promise.” Fiona steepled her fingers and looked at Sebastian. “If you have compromised yourself with this girl, I will publicly disown you.”

Sebastian swallowed, a look of hurt crossing his face. “There won’t be any need for that. I can assure you, she is as embarrassed by my ungentlemanly behavior as you are,” he said quietly.

Charlotte gave a disbelieving sniff.

“You won’t force her to go, will you, Lady Westlake?” Ada pleaded. “Not when you’ve heard her defense from Sebastian himself.”

“Be quiet, Ada!” Fiona rapped out. Ada, shocked, was silent. “I do not think you have any idea of just how shockingly
you
have behaved. I am thoroughly ashamed of you, and so would your father be if he knew.”

Ada opened her mouth to protest, but Fiona surged on. “By encouraging your maid in her ridiculous pretensions, you have shown that you have no respect for the consequence of your family or mine. You have made us a laughingstock today. If you have no thought for your own reputation, will you not think of your father’s good name? He has barely recovered from the unfortunate slanders that surrounded his India career. If any hint of your part in this scandal gets beyond the family, it could do great damage to your chances this season, and thereby to his standing.”

Ada felt tears start to her eyes. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Fiona was right, she knew that. It had been thoughtless of her to allow Rose to be exposed in that way, and by encouraging her she had harmed more people than Rose herself.

“Sebastian, you are greatly at fault, but the maid is more so. She has passed the boundaries of decency for a woman and gone beyond her station. That simply cannot go unpunished. I would be failing in my duty as a parent if I allowed a woman who had become so exposed, so fallen, to remain in this house with my daughters.”

Ada stood silently, tears in her eyes. She had never felt so guilty in her life. Rose had become so important to her—such a friend. She could not bear the thought of losing her, much less in such a way.

There was only one hope left—her father. She quailed inside at the thought of his knowing about her foolishness, but there was no help for it. She had to save Rose. She turned and ran from the conservatory.

Ada found her father in the library, poring over the newspapers.

“Papa?” she said, seeing his frowning expression. “Is everything all right?”

“Ada?” He looked up with a tired smile. “The situation on the Continent gets ever more troubling—but what did you want to see me about?”

Ada took a deep breath.

“I’ve been foolish,” she blurted out. “Very, very foolish—and it has hurt someone who doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Please, Father—I need you to help her.”

Quickly, she told her father the story, wincing as she saw the expression of shock and anger in his eyes.

“Rose would never have been there if it were not for me,” she finished miserably. “She is innocent. It was all my fault.”

“And Sebastian’s!” her father exploded. He was furious, she could see that. He got up and paced back and forth. “Fiona is acting exactly as a responsible mother should. Such an incident, so public, cannot be let slide, especially on the eve of your first season. If the merest breath of scandal touches you…What were you
thinking
, Ada?” He turned on her. “Could you not see how vulnerable Rose would be, alone with a rake like Sebastian?”

Tears of humiliation rose to Ada’s eyes. He was even angrier than she had expected him to be. “I’m sorry, Papa. I just meant—I only wanted to help her.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” he muttered. He looked as if he were thinking deeply, or remembering something that she did not know about.

“Please, Father,” Ada said. “Rose doesn’t deserve this. You can’t let Lady Westlake turn her out without a penny in London.”

“No indeed!” Her father looked very serious, more serious than she had ever seen him. “It would mean ruin for her. I should have done something before, something to ensure her safety.”

Ada looked puzzled. Her father caught her eye and cleared his throat, looking embarrassed.

“I shall not let Fiona dismiss her until we have arrived back at Somerton and she has the support of her mother,” he said firmly. “But Ada, I don’t know if I can keep her in service with us. The damage has been done.”

Rose packed her clothes through a haze of tears. She could hardly believe this was happening to her. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare. She could not stop thinking about what her mother would say when she heard. Would she believe that it was not her fault? She shuddered at the thought of how angry and disappointed she would be.

She had few possessions; her uniforms belonged to the family. The belongings in her suitcase looked small and pitiful. She turned to the door, and started. Stella Ward stood there, watching her.

Rose dashed away the tears with the back of her hand.

“I suppose you’ve come to gloat,” she said. Stella had never liked her, that was clear.

“I did say that those who ride on high horses have a long way to fall.” Stella’s smirk made Rose tingle with the desire to slap her. She controlled herself. “But you do me wrong, Rose. I am here to help. I have an idea that could save your position.”

Rose’s laugh was a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

Stella looked wounded. “Don’t say you don’t believe me. I feel sorry for you, Rose. You were so clearly out of your depth as a ladies’ maid. I gave you good advice that first day, don’t you remember?”

Rose shook her head. She was too tired and confused by the events of the day to know what Stella was speaking about. “You will have to remind me.”

“I told you that ladies’ maids often hear things that have a certain…value to them.” She watched Rose’s face, a faint smile hovering on her own. “Now is the time to cash in that valuable knowledge. I’m sure you have some. I’m just not quite sure what it is.”

“You mean I should threaten to reveal Lady Ada’s secrets in order to keep my position?” Rose said bluntly.

“No need for you to do anything so crude. Simply tell
me
the secrets. If they’re juicy enough—and I’m sure they are—I promise that your situation will be saved.”

“And Lady Ada’s will be lost,” said Rose. She thought how it would be for her if the story of her relationship with Ravi got out. It would mean the end of all her chances that season, at the very least.

“What does that matter to you? She doesn’t care about you. She got you into this trouble in the first place. She’ll weep crocodile tears as she cuts you loose without a penny or a character. Do you know what happens to girls without money or character in London, Rose?” Her voice was hard.

“Yes,” whispered Rose. She was terrified, though she fought to hide it. Where would she go? What would she do? Somerton—her home—would be closed to her. It was so far away; how would she ever reach her mother again? If she was turned out onto the street that very afternoon, how would she survive? London was huge, and she knew no one. If she pawned her few possessions, they would bring in hardly anything. There was only one way of making enough money to survive. She knew that many girls resorted to it. She also knew that she would rather die—but then, she had not been truly tested yet.

“So you see, no one could blame you for what you are going to do,” Stella went on. “You are simply doing what you can to escape a worse stain on your soul and character.”

“You are mistaken,” said Rose. She was speaking automatically, her lips felt numb. “I am not going to do what you suggest.”

A flash of anger crossed Stella’s face. “Think, Rose! What do you owe Lady Ada? Nothing.”

Rose shook her head. “It isn’t about what I owe to Lady Ada. It’s about what I owe to myself. I could never respect myself if I betrayed Lady Ada’s confidence. My answer is no.”

Stella seemed about to answer, when there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” Rose called, glad of the interruption.

Her eyes widened in shock as the door opened and she saw Lord Westlake.

“My lord!” She jumped almost to attention, smoothing down her dress. Stella looked as startled as Rose felt.

“Good afternoon, Rose.” He looked and sounded ill at ease. “I am sorry to intrude. May I have a word?”

Rose nodded blankly. “Of course, sir…”

“In private,” he added to Stella.

Stella backed to the door. As she stepped out, she gave Rose a last, meaningful glance. Rose met her eyes proudly.
I have nothing to be ashamed of,
she told herself.
And I won’t sink to your level, no matter how much you want me to.

She dropped her eyes as Lord Westlake approached her. He had surely come to give her formal dismissal. Well, she would take her tongue-lashing bravely.

“I’m very sorry about what has happened, Rose.” His voice was surprisingly soft, and she was startled enough to raise her eyes. The look she had seen once before on his face—tenderness—was there again. “I don’t deny that you were foolish, but I believe that you never meant to do wrong. And Ada should never have encouraged you. She should have known better.”

Rose hung her head.

“I want you to know that you will not be dismissed until we return to Somerton,” he went on. “I would not turn a vulnerable young girl out onto the streets without money, friends, or character. You cannot continue to serve as Lady Ada’s personal maid, but I will not be the cause of your ruin, be sure of that.”

Rose looked up at him in disbelief and gratitude. “Sir, I don’t deserve your kindness—”

“And I don’t deserve yours, if you only knew it,” he replied quickly.

It was such a strange thing for him to say that she was struck silent. She simply bowed her head. She had been saved from a fate worse than death—but her future was still insecure. What would become of her once they were back at Somerton?

Stella hesitated outside Rose’s door, but she could hear nothing from inside but the low rumble of Lord Westlake’s voice. Angry and frustrated, she turned away. The little hussy managed to act superior even when she was so clearly disgraced.

She stalked away down the corridor, her mind working fast. Stella’s conscience had hardened over the years, but it still had raw spots, and these twinged now, and that made her even more angry. And an angry Stella was a dangerous Stella.

She paused by Lady Ada’s room. It was a risk, but she had begun her career this way—snooping in rooms she had no right to be in, looking through dust-bins for discarded notes that their authors might have preferred not to be seen. She was not proud of it. But with a fallen sister and a drunkard father to support, she could not be picky either. That was what Rose would have to learn, sooner or later.

She pushed open the door of Lady Ada’s room and slipped in. No one saw her. No one saw her look into the dustbin and take out all the waste paper that had been thrown there. No one saw her sorting through it, reading quickly, now and then glancing at the door nervously. And no one saw her when she paused at certain scraps of mauve paper, covered in neat, ladylike handwriting.