Will was in one of his waterside godowns, assisting in the loading of a canal boat to transport a load north. He liked getting his hands dirty when it was useful. It reminded him of helping his father when he was younger, and he needed themanual stimulation. Sitting in an office, staring at ledgers, he noticed his thoughts drifting to Rose and wondering how she fared. Instead of tallying the books, he wondered how long it would be before she sent word that she wanted to see him. He had seen her expression when he asked her to marry him. She had looked ecstatic until she smothered it. So he'd leave her now to think it over and make the right decision. He planned to keep himself busy until then, so he didn't come up with his own ways to see her, talk to her, or persuade her.
He was sure that the closer it came to her wedding day, she would realize the folly of her refusal. Given she had already borne the brunt of Barrington’s violence and had been publicly humiliated by him in front of almost everyone who knew her, she could be in no doubt as to what the future would hold for her if she did not reject the Duke.
Perhaps he had given her the wrong impression when he had said they could live apart, but she was old enough and confident enough to be able to say, “No, I want to live with you.” Rose Barrington was no shrinking violet. What was she waiting for? Did he need to send a carriage to pick her up?
For his part, he accepted now that he loved the bones of the woman. He did not know why, after everything she had done to him, but his body, and his mind yearned for her. Despite that, he would not debase himself to have her.
He paused for a moment to wipe his brow. A man was coming towards him from the far end of the godown, picking his way through the boxes in knee-high riding boots, a navy jacket, and breeches. He looked familiar.
“Will Browning?” The man asked.
“That’s the one,” he smiled at the stranger. “What can I do for you?”
The man looked oddly uncomfortable and gave Will only a faint smile.
“I’m Jacob Richardson, Mary’s husband.”
“Jacob! It has been a very long time. I heard you had done very well for yourself.”
“I can’t complain,” Jacob said, taking Will’s hand as it was offered. “Like yourself.” He shook it firmly.
“Well, this is a surprise.”
“Is it?” Jacob asked oddly. “You didn’t think I would be dispatched to talk to you?”
“About what?” Will narrowed his eyes.
“About Rose!”
Had Rose sent a messenger rather than come herself, Will wondered, trying to scrutinize Jacob’s face to see if the message was negative or positive. But his expression was inscrutable. The only emotion he seemed to give away was indicated by a hesitation to speak, and then him pulling at his cravat as if to loosen it. Will felt a surge of alarm. Had something happened to Rose, and he didn’t know how to tell him? His heart began to pound.
“Is Rose alright? Is she hurt?”
“No, no, nothing of the sort,” Jacob held out his hand. “No. Pardon me for worrying you. Look, I am going to just say it because Mary has insisted I do, and you know how Mary and Rose both are.”
“Go on!”
So, he was the messenger boy, thought Will, intrigued.
“Mary wants you to come to Arundel and convince Rose to marry you.”
Will stared at Jacob without saying anything, and Jacob stood pinned under his regard. Eventually, Will spoke.
“I already tried that.”
“She knows you did.”
“She does?” So Rose had been telling people he proposed to her?
“Rose told Mary that you had asked her and that she had said no.”
“So why are you here?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Jacob went on. “Mary does not think she is at all certain. She paid her a visit, and Rose was in tears throughout their talk about you.”
“Really?” So Rose was sitting in her lavish castle crying about him. “Well, I can’t help that.”
“Mary thinks you can. She thinks perhaps you can go to her and convince her she needs to be with you.”