Page 7 of Diamond of the Season (Heiress #1)

Chapter

Seven

T he following day, Rosalind woke to her maid Mary shaking her awake, a harried look on her face.

"Lady Rosalind. Wake up. There is news, and we must get you prepared."

Rosalind sat up and rubbed her face, focusing on her maid who was now darting about the room, pulling out her valise from her dressing room next door, before ruffling through the armoire as if the devil himself were after her.

"Whatever is this about? Has something happened?" Rosalind asked. Thankfully, despite Mary’s worried countenance, she had not forgotten Rosalind’s morning hot chocolate. Rosalind reached for the mug and took a lovely, fortifying sip to start the day. The chocolate drink was rich and creamy, sweet and delicious—just as she liked it.

"The duke has ordered me to pack your things. You are to leave for London today with His Grace. I heard the butler mention that it has something to do with the duke needing to return to town early, so you are to travel with him. We must pack your things immediately, for fifteen minutes of the allotted hour have already passed." The maid paused her packing and raised her brow. "You are not the easiest lady to raise, as you well know."

Rosalind threw back her bedding and stepped from the bed, setting her hot chocolate aside. London! She was going to London. Never had she been to the great city, and the thought of starting her future—possibly finding a husband, a great love match that would outshine the greatest love stories in history—made excitement thrum through her.

"Well, I must dress. I will quickly finish my morning ablutions and then you may do my hair. It does not need to be anything grand, for I shall be in a carriage most of the day and no one will see me, in any case."

"Of course, my lady. I will continue to pack while you do so.”

Before she could walk another step, Rosalind’s door flew open and, one by one, her five sisters stumbled into the room, their faces a mix of sadness and excitement. Rosalind embraced each of them, wiping away the tears from Clementine—the baby of the house whom she would miss and worry about most.

"I cannot believe you are to leave us, sister. We shall all miss you very much," Clementine said, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing her eyes.

"Now, now, I shall not be gone forever, and should I make a match, I will discuss the possibility of you all coming to live with me so that we shall always be together."

"Do you think the duke would allow such a thing? He is our guardian now," Isabella said, slumping onto the bed with a dejected look on her pretty face.

"He's a kind man and does not want to see any of us unhappy, I do not believe. Even though he is only a few years older than I am, he is mature beyond his years and knows that we are far better together than apart."

"I do hope so, Lady Evangeline. And then, next year, when I am in town for the Season, you may be able to sponsor me, and I shall be with you. I should so hate not to be together."

"As would I, dearest, but I promise you all," Rosalind said, pulling her sisters into her arms and trying to gather them close. They hugged, clinging to one another as if they would never be separated.

But time waits for no one, and each of them, when the time was right, would marry, move to their new homes, and create families for themselves. Rosalind swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing that from that day forward nothing would ever be the same for them—not really. She would be the first to leave, to try to forge some future happiness that had long been absent from their lives, but she would certainly not be the last.

She could hear several sniffles from her sisters and held them even tighter. "Do not worry so. I will write and tell you everything about town and all its diversions. It shall be as if I never left—I promise you all."

"Please do not forget us," Cordelia said, her eyes red-rimmed and tears pooling in her pretty green irises.

"Of course I will not. I promise on my life I shall write every week."

The thud of her trunk closing and her maid rushing over to the bellpull to ring for footmen caught her attention. Her time to get ready was ticking by. "Now, come, girls—let me finish getting ready for my travels, and we shall say our goodbyes downstairs very soon. But please, do not fret. As I said, if I should make a good match, I will send for you with the duke's permission. I am certain he does not wish for us to be apart any more than we do."

"I do hope you're right," Angelica said, giving a solemn glance before they all walked out the door and downstairs, nearly breaking Rosalind’s heart.

"Do not worry so, my lady. Ms. Rivers said she will watch over them and keep them well and happy until you see them again."

"Are you not going to be here?" Rosalind asked as she went to the jug and bowl and picked up a cloth to wash her face.

"I have been instructed to come with you as chaperone on the journey to London and to help in town until His Grace has secured a companion for you. But I shall remain as your maid—although I am not certain I meet the standards of a London lady maid—but I shall study the latest fashions and hair designs to ensure you are the prettiest debutante in town. I promise you that."

Rosalind smiled and sat down at her dressing table, picking up her brush and running it through her long, brown locks. "Thank you, Mary. Having you in town will no doubt help me with my homesickness, I am certain."

"I will do all I can to make that so, my lady."

Rosalind finished preparing for the day, making sure to pack her favorite books for the journey and some games that she might play with Mary or the duke if he were traveling with her in the carriage.

Her goodbyes to her sisters were bittersweet. As much as she did not wish to leave them, it was necessary for the sake of their future happiness .

The duke, quiet and distracted, stood near the carriage—his horse already saddled—so that she would be traveling on her own with her maid. A little stab of disappointment ran through her at the thought. She enjoyed his company and conversation, and though spending many hours with her maid was not unpleasant, it would ultimately result in her maid dozing off while Rosalind herself grew bored, waiting for them to reach their first stop for the night.

"Goodbye, my darlings. I shall write each week, I promise," she called out the carriage window as the vehicle started forward.

Her dear sisters’ faces—with forced smiles as they waved goodbye—brought tears to her eyes. She leaned out the carriage window, watching them and waving until they could no longer be seen.

She sat back in the squabs and thanked her maid when a handkerchief was passed to her. Forcing herself to remember that it was not forever. That she would see them again and their parting wasn’t final. They traveled all day, stopping only for luncheon on the side of the road. Rosalind cringed, feeling sorry for the duke as he opened the pie that the cook had made for them, a tasteless dry meal that she herself struggled to swallow.

The poor man would have to replace their old cook soon if he were to survive the coming winter at the estate. But at least Rosalind was assured that he would take care of their cook in her dotage.

Their first night was spent at the Whistle Inn, before rising early and traveling on at the break of dawn the following morning. They reached the outskirts of London by late the following afternoon.

Buoyed by the thought of seeing a city she had only ever dreamed of visiting, Rosalind rolled down the carriage window once again and leaned out, watching the streets pass by. Beyond the city limits were market gardens and small farms, but these soon gave way to numerous cottages and then to large stone buildings. Central Mayfair was a bustling hive of activity.

Numerous ladies and gentlemen strolled along the cobblestone and gravel streets, their footpaths paved with large flagstones. They made their way to Grosvenor Square—her father's London address, which she had only ever heard of in correspondence, but never seen.

The carriage pulled into a large, private drive and stopped before a monstrous Georgian mansion. Several footmen, along with household staff, came out to greet them, and Rosalind frowned, having never known that her father employed so many staff in town.

However had he afforded them all?

She climbed down with the help of the duke, who came to her side, taking her hand and wrapping it about his arm.

"Are you ready for London, Lady Rosalind?" he asked.

She smiled, unable to hide her excitement. A better question would be: was London ready for her?