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Chapter Four
Providence
Marlow’s departure was to take place mid-spring, far too soon to suit Rosalind. It was barely enough time to do the necessary things: struggle with her conscience, make a terrifying decision, and formulate her plan.
Because if Marlow was sailing for India on the good ship Providence, Rosalind was too.
Of course, making that happen required a series of things to go the right way, things that might still go horribly wrong. It was quite a risk, her plan…and she was not an experienced risk-taker.
Purchasing the ticket had been a hair-raising adventure and had used up the entirety of her saved spending money, money she’d been given over the years to buy hats, shoes, ribbons, and various fripperies to spoil her horses. The caper had involved lies and subterfuge to even make her way to the ticket office, but she’d managed to buy first class passage on the Providence under the invented name of Mrs. Rosa Lintel, a widow.
It was a journey her spoiled horses couldn’t make.
But that was a temporary sacrifice. She must go to India with Marlow and marry him there. Then, when they returned, she could move her horses to his town home’s regally outfitted stables and take up residence as Lady Marlow. Everything would be well in time if she only had the courage—and luck—to see her plan through.
She’d had two weeks to wait after purchasing her passage, two whole weeks to languish in mourning and pretend to be the old, obedient Rosalind who accepted things. When she went to see Felicity and her family off at the docks, and wish them safe passage back to Italy, she used the opportunity to study her surroundings, thinking over the ins and outs of her escape and trying to consider every scenario. The only scenario she didn’t allow herself to consider was backing out. This was her only chance to have a life with Marlow, even if she was terrified. If she wanted to marry him, she had to take her future into her hands without yielding to those who “knew best.”
Her sleep suffered. Nightmares shook her, worries of all that might go awry. By the morning of Marlow’s departure, her fears had reached an apex, but for love, she could not abandon her plans. She donned her loosest black mourning gown with several shifts and petticoats beneath it. She double-checked the contents of the traveling trunk she’d filled with as many necessities as she could manage. Her most beloved collection of romantic poetry, of course. Lighter gowns, for India’s hot weather. A few of her best hats to guard her complexion. She would have to buy a wedding dress somewhere along the way, because there simply wasn’t room to pack a fittingly ornate frock.
Well, Marlow would have to buy it, for she was broke as a church mouse. It was expensive to sail, and the HMS Providence was only going halfway. The ship would sail to Egypt, where they would disembark and travel overland to a port situated for India. Her stomach churned when she thought of traversing such exotic lands, but Marlow would be with her then.
Well, he’d be with her once she revealed herself to him, which could not happen until they were far enough away from England that he could not send her back. Once they’d sailed far enough away, she’d reveal her scheme and explain that he needn’t run away to India alone, that they could run away together. In time, their families would understand.
It was a good plan. A necessary plan. She closed the trunk and pressed down her panic. It was far too late to panic.
“Rosalind?”
She spun at a knock on the door. She barely had time to shove the trunk behind her bed before her mother entered. She took in Rosalind’s shapeless mourning frock with a disappointed frown.
“Won’t you come with us, darling?”
She shook her head. “No, Mama. I can’t stand to be there, to see him sail away.”
“Are you sure? Marlow won’t be home again for some time.”
Rosalind loved her mother so much. She was about to do such a bad thing. I won’t be home for some time either, she thought, and tears welled in her eyes.
“I can’t go today, Mama. I just can’t bear to say goodbye to him.”
“My sweet girl.” Her mother crossed to her and hugged her in sympathy, and Rosalind clung to her, sobbing out loud. This wasn’t goodbye forever, but it was still a goodbye. She would miss her friends too, especially Elizabeth, her closest friend since childhood. Keeping this secret from her had been the hardest thing.
Her mother pulled back and smoothed her tightly wound braids, her proper mourning bun. “We’ll have no more of these dark gowns and tears beyond this week, my love. It’s time to put your face to your future.”
To marry Lord Brittingham, she meant. Rosalind pretended to agree. “Yes, Mama. I suppose it will get easier when Marlow’s gone.”
“It will, darling. We all hope to see you in better spirits.”
Rosalind tried not to burst into tears again as her mother left. Now was not the time to lose her composure or her nerve. She waited until she heard the carriage pull away in the courtyard, then rose and rang for a footman.
“I’ve changed my mind about going to the docks,” she told him. “I wish to see Lord Marlow off after all.”
“You’re too late, my lady. They’ve left.”
“Oh, but I must go! I won’t see him for ages. I don’t know why I thought I could stay away. I’ve even got a trunk all ready for him with going-away presents.” She fluttered her hands and dragged it from behind the bed. “He’s going all the way to India, you know.”
The footman sized up the trunk, then went to confer with the butler, who summoned the groom.
“We must hurry,” she cried. “I must have a chance to say goodbye. How foolish I was to refuse to go.”
