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Amongst the Roses By HLeighChapter I Posted on August 21, 2008 They were married, married in town and now hastening down to her uncle’s. What had Edward felt on being within four miles of Barton, on seeing her mother’s servant, on hearing Lucy’s message? They would soon, she supposed, be settled at Delaford. Sense and Sensibility, Book III, Chapter XII It did not bear much thinking; Elinor could only hope that, perhaps under his guidance and integrity, Lucy and Edward’s marriage would not be too miserable. She had always acknowledged, as Marianne could not, that Lucy had some merits, and a sensibility of a kind. Of one thing Elinor was certain and she, after her initial grief, focused all her efforts there. She would suffer, but now it was all definite and completed. There could be no hope. It had been foolish to even privately entertain an idea of the dissolution of Edward’s engagement with her personal knowledge of Lucy’s character. At least no one else could suffer from her thoughts. It was now her clear duty, and in her best interest, to suppress all non-essential thought of the matter. She must focus instead on Marianne’s returning health and on maintaining their continued comfort at Barton cottage. There would, also, be some time spent in deciding upon the best manner in which to put Edward at ease upon he and Lucy’s arrival at Delaford parsonage while, at the same time, thwarting any malice that would come her way from Lucy. Elinor had seen nothing in her previous behavior that lead her to believe that Lucy would be gracious in her victory. Elinor trusted that she, at least, could maintain the appearance of calm she had attained in the previous six months and she was assured that her mother and Marianne would follow her lead, regardless of their crushed feelings, as an act of the greatest kindness to Elinor. And it can be said here that they did not fail her. The days that followed her knowledge of the marriage continued one and the same with the slightest variation of the tides and the weather. The Dashwoods returned to their normal activities and their visiting in the neighborhood, which had never been extensive. Mrs. Dashwood instructed Margaret. Marianne and the Colonel worked upon duets and talked of the books that he procured for her reading. Elinor painted the landscape’s changes from the parlour window in bad weather and various points on the surrounding hills when it was fine, and so time marched forward. Elinor was surprised one day, about two-and-a-quarter years after the marriage of Lucy and Edward, to see in her painting a change. Marianne had asked her to chose a painting of Norland for her sitting room at Delaford. Elinor’s work, the oldest placed upon the bed and the new landscapes pinned upon the walls, indeed had changed, settled, renewed, as if she now saw everything with different eyes than the girl who had left Norland nearly three years before. Reasonably, fall and winter debris was next spring and summer’s bounty, and then back again, it was true; But what of her painting and her mood? These had both undoubtedly strengthened. Her colours were fresher and less moody looking than they had been after Edward’s engagement was known to her. Her objects were more definite in shape and less muddy. Her work had shape and form, perspective and intent. No more pretty daubs and peaceful past-time exertions, she was now challenged to catch truth on paper as it was now so plain in her life. She had been sure that her actions would aid her feelings in time and now that time had come where results were to be seen for all her efforts in other aspects of her life. There were regrets, but she no longer felt material pain on the subject. From resignation to deal with what was before her came love and acceptance of her current situation and that showed in her good spirits and in her landscapes as well. Of course, there were still trials, but she was, with experience, better and better able to contrive them. One of her trials had been the united efforts of Sir John and Mrs Jennings in setting up a match between she and the dear Colonel. This had continued for almost a twelvemonth, until it became clear that the honor of being mistress of Delaford would fall to Miss Marianne. Elinor maintained her manners and ease to such a degree that Mrs Jennings began to feel that perhaps the eldest Miss Dashwood would never marry at all. “Which would be a crying shame, to be sure. For she would make any man a fine wife. Perhaps I can tempt her to town this winter in order to help her mother get Miss Marianne’s clothes ready? To be sure, it did not go so well the last time, but we can’t have her hiding herself out here in the Devonshire bushes!” But here she had not succeeded. Of another trial, it can be said here that Elinor succeeded in her endeavors to so great a degree that after a time even Edward began to feel that perhaps she hadn’t loved him all that much and, eventually, although he always regarded her highly, he forgot about the matter entirely in his domestic and parish duties. From Lucy, it was true, little could be expected but that she maintained the appearance of right and stretched his income so that even he did not know it when he saw his books at month’s end. True felicity could not be theirs, but comfort and contentment could be had. And, eventually, a modest wealth as well. Through Lucy’s efforts, about three months after his marriage had taken place, Mrs. Ferrars and Edward were reunited and eventually, after much careful activity on Lucy’s part, Mrs. Ferrars saw fit to call him son again and, later, to acknowledge his wife. Their income could not but benefit, and while they never had the income of the lucky Robert, Lucy could at least lay claim to keeping more servants than Mrs. Dashwood. And, although it rather nettled her when Miss Marianne became Mrs. Brandon, she could only thank her luck that it was not likely Mrs. Brandon spent much time in her kitchen. While Lucy was organizing Edward’s life and pocketbook, Marianne had been developing some interests of her own. She addressed them to her husband thus: “My dear, I have something I would ask of you.” The Colonel, looking up with pleasure from his letter, still pleasantly surprised by the familiar address, replied encouragingly, “My love, you may be sure of getting anything you ask of me.” Marianne heard this with a smile, “You may regret that answer in a moment, my love, but I shall proceed before you may change your mind. I am concerned for dearest Elinor. She has done just as we all expected after her...disappointment.” There was no need to explain this illusion. The Colonel had, in his domesticity with Marianne, long ago heard the whole story of Lucy and Edward; after two-and-a quarter years he was fully able to comprehended the character of his Rector’s wife. “What would you have me do?” Marianne was a bit embarrassed here as it was retreading an issue she had once had some very foolish opinions about. “I had hoped that you might, well...” “Yes?” “Oh, you are going to make me ask you! Very well then. I should like it very much if we could introduce Elinor to a wider group of people than she normally meets.” Thinking herself clever to have avoided saying that she wanted him to introduce Elinor to someone she might have a second chance at love with. “I think I understand you.” “Yes?” she said eagerly. “And what do you think? Do you know of anyone who might interest our Elinor?” The Colonel for a moment seemed deep in thought as he stared at a painting on his wife’s writing desk that Elinor had give to Marianne upon her marriage. It was a detailed painting of an open rose. The detail was exquisite. You would be tempted to smell the paper it was painted upon. He looked down at the letter he was unknowingly tapping on his knee and said, “Well, my love, perhaps. Chapter II Posted on August 26,2008 Nearly three years earlier, October 1803 Crosgrove House, Surrey “Thank you, Ridgely, for all your help. You and your sister. I cannot thank you enough. I am sorry, though, that Mrs. Crosgrove and your mother had to hear the tale.” “Think no more of that, Brandon. My late father left me with one legacy of which he had little value for and nearly no knowledge of. My mother is a tough old bird and sees it as her personal mission to right the ills of all wronged women. Beth, sweet woman that she is, still manages to be aware of the ways of the world. She will insure that Miss Williams makes the transition to Mrs. Williams without any problem, and the boy will grow up in a wholesome enough environment here. Crosgrove has always seemed idyllic to me, since I arrived ten years ago to meet Peter Crosgrove himself. He and Beth are a truly happy couple, such as I did not believe possible outside of novels. Of course, my mother, while she is here, will encourage Eliza along; I dare say I shall have to send Mother home so that Eliza may hold her own child.” “Well, I’m glad for that. After the last 10 months, I am sure that Eliza will welcome this change. I will, of course, see that they want for nothing. I have arranged for Mr. Williams to leave his wife a small income that should suffice, and certainly, she is heartbroken enough that anyone would believe her a widow. I’ve told her of the little I learned of Willoughby’s finances in town. It was enough to assure her that he could not help and would not return. She shall carry this burden alone, but with the help of friends.” James Ridgely handed his old friend Colonel Brandon a drink and motioned him to the fire. “What about Willoughby?” “Willoughby? I shall be making arrangements to meet him as soon as he returns to London, but I don’t know when that will be.” “Do you know him socially then, that you know where he is?” “He is an acquaintance in the country.” Brandon scowled at the flames. “What is it?” “Willoughby is currently in Devon at his cousin’s, Mrs. Smith of Allenham, where he is to inherit. He has been spending a great deal of time with my friends, the Dashwoods. I believe that he and Miss Marianne Dashwood have reached an understanding, but how can I be sure? If he is just...” his voice broke off in frustration. Ridgely watch his friend of many years as a range of emotions crossed his face. He could only remember one other time when he had seen Brandon so distressed---in India when he had received the news of his brother’s divorce. “Miss Marianne is pretty, I suppose, but lacking in fortune.” “Marianne Dashwood is one of the most beautiful women I have ever beheld and I will rip that blackguard’s heart out if he harms her in anyway!” Brandon rose and crossed to the window as if trying to escape from his emotions. “Well, perhaps I can separate them for you for a time, until you can meet with him over Eliza, at least. Mrs. Smith and my mother are correspondents of long standing. Some of my best roses are growing in the Allenham gardens. I know for certain, through mother, that Mrs. Smith has long suspected Willoughby’s character. Perhaps a letter from Mother hinting at the truth will flush him out of Devonshire? We can talk with her this hour and send it express. You’re sure he’s still there?” Cautiously, “He was when I left five days ago.” He remembered the joyous laughter in Marianne’s eyes that day, right before he had read the letter from Eliza and it settled his resolve. Marianne Dashwood must not be ruined. “Your mother will have no concern in writing the letter to Mrs. Smith?” “No, No. After all, what are friends for? For a fact, Brandon, I’m sure she will relish the idea, given what she knows of Mr. Willoughby’s behavior with your ward. And, yes, I will be your second when you meet with Willoughby.” “I haven’t asked you yet.” “No, but you were just about to.” He held out his hand and, after a brief hesitation, the Colonel shook it warmly. And with that the two gentleman went to scout out Mrs. Ridgely and her writing desk. St. James Street, London, November 1803 Mr. James Ridgely Crosgrove House, Surrey Dear James, You were absolutely correct about the effects of your mother’s letter. Mr. Willoughby arrived in Town this night, as my man informs me. He must have been dismissed within hours of Mrs. Smith’s receipt of the letter. Please express my thanks again to your mother. I hope that Eliza and the child continue well. I do, now, remind you of your promise to attend me in my meeting with Willoughby. I shall be summoning him for the morning after next. I am confident that he will attend me; he is too prideful to let it be known otherwise. I shall try to remember, at your suggestion to aim high. with my regards, Brandon Rosewood House, Devon, December 1803 Colonel Brandon St. James Street, London My dear Brandon, Do not mention it again, it gave me too much pleasure to attend you against our infamous blackguard. Beth, and my mother, write that it was unfortunate that you were forced to play the gentleman as they have every faith that you could have killed him on the count of ten. (I told you my female line is bloodthirsty. I’m quite thankful they have never come after me!) I’m sure you spared him for the sake of another lady, which makes you a bigger man than I could ever hope to be. I can well imagine it would be awkward at best to some of your Devonshire friends had you killed him. I have word, as I am sure you already know, that Eliza and co. are flourishing. I’m sure this must satisfy. I hope to find you still in town when I arrive in late February. Now that I have shocked you completely I can tell you of my plans. Much as I am loath to visit London during the season, or at any other time of year, I find that a long vaunted project is at last to meet an end. In March, we shall hold the first meeting of the Horticultural Society of London. After four years of talk it is rather amazing. Only the curator of Kew Gardens could make me drag my feet back to London, but this same man has expressed a great deal of interest in my roses, and there you have it! Mention roses to me and I am a sunk man, shallow but true! I hope I shall meet you then. We can go to your club and pretend we are in the country playing cards. (Oddly enough, I never play cards in the country.) Failing this I will see you at Crosgrove in a fortnight’s time for the holidays. Be warned! My mother and sisters take the holidays as seriously as they do their vengence. with warm regards, James Rosewood House, Devon, January 1804 Colonel Brandon St. James Street, London Dear Brandon, I cannot believe the unmitigated gall of the man! I had thought we should be done with Mr. W at this point, perhaps you should have aimed lower, after all. I absolutely understand your dilemma and, since the mother is not in town and Mrs. J is not useful, perhaps it is best that you approach the eldest Miss Dashwood with your fears for Willoughby’s character. I have a hard time believing that a young woman of 19 could be all you described her to be over our Christmas holidays, but if she is half what you say she seems your best help at present. I shall attend you in a few weeks, and I truly hope the odious Mr. W has married some heiress and is gone for good. James Rosewood House, Devon, February 1804 Colonel Brandon St. James Street, London My dear friend, Unbelievable! I wrote it as a bad joke. Very bad, indeed, it now seems! I suppose it should surprise neither of us that W has found himself a rich wife, but his behavior to Miss M is unbearable. I am glad that you find her sister equal to the situation. I am sorry that yet more women should suffer at his hand. His poor wife little knows what misery she has let herself in for. I shall be at Bond Street no later than the 26th of the month. I pray that you may experience no greater disturbances until we meet. James Chapter III Posted on September 1, 2008 Mrs. Denison’s musicale was the last thing on Ridgely’s mind when he ran into Colonel Brandon outside the stationer’s shop in Pall Mall late on that Tuesday afternoon. His sister had made him swear to her that he would show up on time; so often such events had managed to completely slip his mind. “Yes, this musicale would probably be unremarkable like all the rest, but Mrs. Denison is a friend of the family and you promised Peter that you would escort me to all of the events that I wished to go to while he was in Scotland.” What a racket Beth would make if he failed to show this time! But none of this was on his mind. He had received one more letter from Brandon, before leaving Rosewood, asking him to stop at Delaford to retrieve some papers on his way to town. The Colonel had also mentioned that there was to be no help to be found in the Dashwood girls’ brother and his wife, as he had often hoped in the preceding weeks. He had meet the pair, and it was plain from his encounters that they were fashionable and shallow with little concern for either sister. There was a surprising negligence, bordering on meanness, towards the elder Miss Dashwood that the Colonel could not understand. Such news did not please James for Brandon’s sake. It appeared that the girls’ welfare was being hoisted upon his friend with little chance of return, for Brandon had made it clear that despite his high opinion of Miss Marianne, she was untouched by his virtues. Silly Girl! More greatly disturbing to Mr. Ridgely was the brother’s behavior. He would rather have been struck in the face in a public square than have it cast up to him that he had neglected his mother or sisters in any fashion. Careless of niceties he may be, but careless of reputation and influence? He’d first cut down every rose he owned, even those reported to have origin with Elizabeth I’s own cuttings. It was at this moment, with these happy thoughts, that he saw Brandon across the street assisting three ladies into a carriage. The first was a large, colourful looking older lady who appeared to be doing all of the talking for the group. The second into the carriage was a young woman whose pallor only vaguely muffled her beauty. What gave her away as the youngest Miss Dashwood, however, was the very pretty dress she wore with such indifference---at least a size too big at this point, confirming all of the Colonel’s fears for Miss Marianne Dashwood’s health. The third lady was taller and very graceful and womanly. But just as she turned in his direction a large cart lumbered between them. “Damn!” Ridgely hurried across the street, but the carriage was gone when he came upon Brandon. His good friend looked at him in some surprise. “Why, Ridgely! Where did you spring up from? I knew you were in town when I received the papers this morning, but I didn’t think to see you out shopping,” he said wryly. “No more would you, but Beth was in need of some things which she had no time to get today and I am whipping boy till Peter returns from the North. I was across the street at the stationer’s when I saw you. I assume I just missed the famous Mrs Jennings?” “Yes, she and the Miss Dashwoods. They had to return home and change for a musicale that they are attending tonight with their brother. I hope it will provide them with some amusement.” “Do you mean the Denison’s?” “Yes, I believe so.” “How odd. What a shame I missed being introduced to them, for I shall be there tonight myself.” “You?” “Yes. Beth insists. Now when the music bores me I shall be able to scout them out and shoot little darts of ill-will towards the negligent brother. Speaking of siblings, Beth wants to be sure that I engage you to dinner the day after Peter returns, so I guess Thursday week?” “You can assure her I will be there, but I shall call on her tomorrow as well.” “Be sure you do but, speaking of that lady, I should race home and change or the next time you see my dear sister will be when she goes before the Judge in the case of my untimely demise. Good day to you.” “Fair well, James.” James spent the first hour at the Denison musicale doing the pretty with Beth, until she decided to sit for the entertainment and told him he could run away. He quickly availed himself of a draped alcove with an open double door. The musicale was a crashing bore. As luck would have it, he had managed to spend some time near a woman he instantly took a dislike to. Mrs. John Dashwood. To say that she ignored her sisters would be a compliment to her behavior. Before he could accidentally spill her punch upon her dress, which was worth more than her carcass as far as he could tell, the Miss Dashwoods had approached and taken seats nearby. James stepped back behind the curtain to observe them. Miss Marianne seemed barely aware of her surroundings, but when a good musician played a piece at all well she seemed to wake up a bit and James got a picture of the girl Brandon had met before Willoughby, and pitied her. As for Miss Dashwood, with the cart and bonnet out of the way, she was very pretty. She wore a pale lavender gown and a simple cluster of flowers in her hair. She seemed to have little interest in the music and was observing the room at will. He felt sorry for her extended interview with the man he heard introduced as Mr. Robert Ferrars, a complete coxcomb if James had ever seen one, who seemed nearly intolerably stupid. At one point, one of her flowers slipped from her hair and James almost picked it up and handed it to her, only to realized what he was about and move back to his alcove. James stood in his window till the Dashwoods left but, before retrieving his sister, he stuck a simple white rose in his waistcoat and shook his head. On Wednesday there was no more peace for James as Beth had him trotting her out again and again in Peter’s stead. He had not realized how hard his brother-in-law had to work in keeping his sister together. “I begin to feel sorry we did not give him more on your marriage.” “What did you say?” “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how much you must miss Peter for your outings.” “Peter never goes shopping with me! Whatever made you think that?” “Well than why did you insist that I must take you out?” “James, you are never in town, we must let people see you once in awhile. Besides, everything we purchased today was for the girls. You didn’t really think I need 8 new gowns, did you?” “No. I suppose not. Especially as you look so dreadful in white.” “Thank you, very much.” She turned, pretty in her yellow pelisse, to consult the clerk about 4 sets of evening gloves in 4 different shades to match 4 sets of satin evening shoes, and 4 sets of white, as well, with white kid shoes, just to get even with her brother. James wandered into a corner of the store which turned out to be inconveniently close to several items for ladies. On one side of the aisle, behind a tall stand covered in ribbon, stood Mrs. Jennings. She was talking hard to another lady and his attention was arrested at once. “Well, my dear Mrs. Clarke, we were in a great uproar, first with Mr. Willoughby and then with Charlotte and the baby. But now everything is calm again. To be sure, Miss Marianne is taking it very hard. I do not know what the men are about, I declare! I find it quite provoking! And I cannot find out if dear Miss Dashwood has seen anything at all of Mr. Ferrars.” “Wasn’t he at the Denison’s musicale last...” “No, No, my dear. That was Mr. Robert Ferrars. Miss Dashwood’s beau is Mr. Edward Ferrars, but I begin to think that it has all gone off, for we’ve seen nothing of him.” “Are not the Ferrars very dependent upon the mother’s good will? Perhaps she does not approve? I have noticed that his sister, Mrs. John Dashwood, does not seem to be on very good terms with her husband’s sis...” “Oh, my dear, say nothing more! Miss Dashwood is the best, sweetest kind of girl there ever was and I am quite outraged!” And with that, Mrs. Jennings and her companion went out the door, leaving James Ridgely with a very thoughtful look on his face until his sister approached him to leave. The dinner, a week later, with the Crosgroves, Ridgely and Colonel Brandon did not turn out exactly as expected. News had broken late on the previous afternoon of a domestic fracas in the Dashwood family. It appeared that the eldest brother of Mrs. Dashwood had maintained a secret engagement for several years and this, having been discovered, led to his immediate and complete dismissal from his family. The scandal was much talked about throughout the town at more dinner parties than this one. Everyone at this table was on poor Mr. Ferrars side of the equation due greatly to his harsh and unjust punishment. “I swear to you, Brandon, the more I hear of town news the more I wish to be in Devon.” “You know I share your opinion. But I feel that it would be unkind to leave without making sure that the Miss Dashwoods are secure. I know they are great friends with Mr. Ferrars and that this is just another injury that they must feel.” “Yes, I believe I had heard Miss Dashwood’s name in connection with Mr. Ferrars, which seems odd now.” The Colonel shook his head gravely, “No, Mrs. Crosgrove, I know nothing of that. And there is every reason, now, to hope that was just gossip. I have even heard my name in relationship to Miss Dashwood and I can assure you that is not the case.” “I just wish there was something that could be done for the poor man. I suppose Miss...what’s it?...Miss Steele! I suppose Miss Steele is as penniless as reported? All this talk, how horrid for everyone involved! How wretched for them!” “Sadly, my dear, the town will talk.” Yes, thought James to himself, and surely where there is so much smoke there must be a fire? Whatever Miss Dashwood’s role in the affaire turned out to be, it was too disturbing to his mind. He made plans to return home immediately following the Society’s meeting. He could bear London’s prattle no more and surely his sisters needed him at home, dealing with home business, rather than sitting in London speculating upon the lovely Miss Elinor Dashwood, as he began to fear he was doing Chapter IV Posted on September 6, 2008 Rosewood House provided a very picturesque scene. It was not one of the free-spirited new paintings filled with emotion and pathos; Rosewood was a solidly depicted and well rendered landscape. The house itself was symmetrical, with 16 rectangular stone trimmed windows on it’s face. The drive lay before it in a gently curving and graceful arch that led from the road to the stables beyond the house. Well-tended and well-loved the house was, drowsy and peaceful, snug between several stands of fine old timber framing it’s front presentation. Upon rounding the rear of the house, by way of a little hedge-rowed walk, it appeared to be an altogether very different place. The trees opened upon a large garden full of sun and light. Off to the north of the stables, and a fine stand of oaks, was the conservatory and before it was the rose garden. It appeared perfectly normal in size and bloom to the ordinary onlooker, and to such an unimaginative person it might seem remarkable only when the gardener pointed out there were over 300 variations of rose. Many of the variations were reputed to be only in this one garden in England. Visitors were assured for two weeks in June a passerby would be able to smell the roses from the main road, a quarter of a mile away. James had been happy to return home to Rosewood House from London early in March. The house was bustling in preparation for spring. His mother had returned to Rosewood shortly after him with the news that he would soon be approached from a young man interested in his sister, Katy, Katherine only on the most formal occasions. This was news that he and his mother could rejoice over. With six daughters, Mrs. Ridgely had always been aware of her responsibility to get them well settled. She was made all the more aware of it by the misfortunes that had attended her own marriage. Miss Frances Gibson had been a prize in person and fortune. She was considered very handsome and her dowry was substantial. She was the only child to a family whose fortune was made growing roses for perfumes. It was rumoured that the family had served Henry VIII. Based upon the garden record books it was certain that the family was in business by early 1589. The Rosa damascena, that Rosewood was known for, was a gift from the time of the Virgin Queen; whether it was actually her gift was still debated by rose growing families throughout the kingdom. All of this Miss Gibson had to offer, and in good time her father accepted the offer of a young man that even young Frannie, just sixteen at the time, seemed to like. This author will have it known that often upon entering the marriage state people change; in the case of Frances Gibson and John Ridgely, one could almost say that by the time her father passed, and all of the family wealth came into Mr. Ridgely’s hands, about twenty years into the marriage, she seemed married to a stranger who seemed bent on running his family and their fortune into the ground. It would have been bad enough to say that Mr. Ridgely preferred the company of harlots and gaming tables, but Frannie’s father truly mourned leaving his daughter and her seven children without protection from the hands of a violent drunk. Several years before he died, in an effort to aid his daughter and her children, Mr. James Gibson had placed his eldest granddaughters (Elizabeth, Frances, Katherine and Abigail) in school at Bath, with the edict that they remain there. Also, shortly before his death he had arranged for his only grandson, a smart boy he had kept as close as possible when it was clear that his son-in-law was not to be trusted, to “learn the business” on a lengthy trip to the East with Lord ___ who was traveling the East in search of teas and flora. It was in India that James Ridgely had met Brandon. Only a few years older than James and already made Captain, he seemed steady and serious. They became good friends based upon their similarity in age and character despite their differences in personality. Captain Brandon was, James learned from him a few months into their friendship, mourning the loss of the woman he loved. She had been married to his elder brother and Brandon had received word of their divorce by letter from the same boat that brought Lord _____’s party to India. James, on the other hand, was gregarious and happy to be away from home and the home situation, which he was powerless to change. He grieved to have lost his grandfather one year into his trip, but he was relieved to be away from his father, especially when the news broke after his grandfather’s death that John Ridgely had lost nearly all of his mother’s inheritance in gaming debts he had kept hidden while Mr. Gibson lived. The girls were safe at school, due to the prudence of Grandfather Gibson, but his youngest sisters, Cassandra and Margaret, and his mother remained at Rosewood House with his father. Lord____ and Captain Brandon, both aware of the situation, recommended that James remain away from England until he was of age, he was at this time but twenty, as he could have no hope of intervening while he was not in possession of his own inheritance. His father could not get rid of Rosewood House. By law the house could not pass to a non-blood male relative, which meant it went to James when he was of age in one year. Thus things had stood until one boat brought letters to both he and Brandon that changed their plans. For the Captain it came in the form of a transfer to England. For James it came in the form of a letter from his mother informing him of the death of his father. Both men had boarded the next ship heading west and disembarked in England, six months shy of James’ twenty-first birthday. They were in contact with each other over the next five or six years only sporadically, until the news came that Colonel Brandon had inherited Delaford from his brother. Once in the same country, they kept a steady correspondence, especially as now James was the one with experience in managing land and rebuilding income after great mismanagement. James Ridgely had arrived home to find all in disarray. The gardens had been completely neglected, with the flowers left to rot on the stems since his grandfather had died. The servants, all but the few oldest and most loyal to Mrs. Ridgely, had run off. The neighborhood was rife with the gossip about the behavior, debts and death of Mr. John Ridgely. “e’d blown ‘is ‘ead off” in a riding accident, went the first story. Then the darker forces seemed evident--his riding accident had not included a horse. Most inhabitants of the neighborhood had little regret for the man they had long come to despise. For his wife and daughters it was more complex. There had been little love for their father, but with the reputation of being the children of a dipsomanic and the loss of all but the barest of dowries, once again protected by their grandfather only, this time, too late, how could these young woman look forward to any future of their own? The was a deep depression and fear amongst the whole family. Very soon after his return James had found Beth, with his sister Fran, talking of going out as governesses. He was appalled and demanded that they give up the idea and instead work with him, perhaps bringing the whole family back from the edge. They had agreed and, with his mother, had been instrumental in bring the perfumes back to the market. The family, with the great history they had to pull from, had developed new scents that were much sought after, especially because of the difficulties with France. Two years after James returned, the family was making an income, but were just above water when Beth and Fran had gone to visit a school friend in Surrey. At the home of this family, Beth had met Peter Crosgrove and she had learned to love him. It had all ended with Peter Crosgrove taking only Beth and a small dowry’s worth of roses, essentially giving the family a garden in Surrey to operate from as well. James had come away from Crosgrove feeling like the older man, Peter was 30, had paid him off to marry Beth, but it was to the best. A few years later, and with an increased dowry of funds and not flowers, Fran married a Rector, a Crosgrove cousin, in a district nearby her sister. Both sisters were very happy and it was a great relief to their mother and brother. ...
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