The Constant Heart (44 page)

'Don't worry, I won't trouble you again.' Rosina picked up a candlestick. 'I can find my own way perfectly well.'

Mrs Hopper followed her to the foot of the grand staircase. 'I'd lock your door if I was you, ducks. He might forget he's a gent when he comes home a bit squiffy.'

Ignoring the last remark, Rosina made her way up to the bedroom that had belonged to Roland's sister. Despite Mrs Hopper's apparent unwillingness to wait on her, she found that fresh towels had been placed on the washstand, and the water in the jug was still warm. A fine cambric nightgown was draped on the counterpane and the bed sheets had been turned down. She undressed, washed and slipped the nightgown over her head. She climbed into the bed, revelling in the feel of fine percale bed linen and a feather mattress that was soft as a cloud. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

She was awakened by the sound of tapping on her window. For a moment when she first opened her eyes she could not remember where she was, but the memories of the previous evening came flooding back and she sat bolt upright. The tapping sound continued and she leapt out of bed with her heart racing. She ran to the window to draw back the curtains and two startled pigeons fluttered skyward, cooing their disapproval on being so rudely disturbed. Their action drew a chuckle from Rosina, but she stopped abruptly as she heard the distant chiming of a clock from a church tower. She counted the chimes – one, two, three, four – when it reached seven she uttered a cry of dismay. The
River Pearl
was due to sail at half past seven. She was not sure how far it was to the docks, but now her only thought was to get to the boat and return home. She threw off the nightgown and struggled into her undergarments, tugging at the laces on her stays with trembling fingers. Mrs Hopper had taken her clothes and she rifled through the armoire looking for something more suitable to wear than the elegant evening gown. It seemed that Roland's sister had lived the life of a very grand young lady and the garments were much too fine to wear on board a sailing barge. But this was not the time to be too particular and she selected a morning gown of grey shantung which boasted the least amount of frills, pin-tucks or embroidery. She was still struggling with the tiny, fabric-covered buttons as she ran down the stairs to the entrance hall.

'Mrs Hopper,' Rosina called out as she saw the housekeeper about to enter the dining room. 'I have to get to the docks immediately. Will you please send someone to find me a cab?'

Advancing so slowly that Rosina wanted to scream, Mrs Hopper shook her head. 'You won't find one round here at this time of day.'

'Then would Mr Rivers allow me to use his private carriage? He promised me that he would see me to the docks so that I can go home to London.'

'That's men for you, dearie. Even the best of them ain't reliable. God knows what time he come in last night. I expect he's still sleeping off the booze and we won't see hide nor hair of him until midday at least.'

Rosina was close to tears, but she was too angry to allow herself to cry. She stamped her foot. 'I will walk then. I won't stay here a minute longer.'

Mrs Hopper marched past her to open the front door. 'Go on, then. You ain't a prisoner here so far as I know.' She pointed towards the far end of the street. 'Go that way and you'll come to the river. Just follow it until you get to the docks, but you'd best make haste if you want to catch the tide.'

With a feeling of panic rising in her throat, Rosina hitched up the long skirts of the gown and ran down the steps to the pavement below. The sun beat down on her head as she raced along the street, ignoring the curious stares of passers-by. She was vaguely aware of their unfamiliar costumes and the wooden clogs that they wore on their feet, but she was too intent on her purpose to take much interest in the sights and sounds of Rotterdam. Although it was still early in the morning, the sky was a peerless blue and the heat was already intense. As she neared the docks she could see a forest of masts, some with sails set, sliding majestically out of the harbour. She stopped for a moment, holding her side as a painful stitch almost crippled her. Then she spotted the unmistakeable reddish-brown sails of a Thames sailing barge. She broke into a jogging trot, but she knew that she was too late. She reached the edge of the dock in time to see the stern of the
River Pearl
as it set out to sea.

She cupped her hands round her mouth. 'Ahoy, there –
River Pearl
.' But the vessel was too far away for them to hear her. She could just make out Barney's large frame as he went about his work on deck and she could see Captain Morgan at the tiller. Rosina looked round in desperation. For a wild moment she imagined that she could steal a boat and row out after them, but commonsense prevailed and she knew that such a reckless act would be fruitless. She ran the length of the dockside, searching for a vessel registered in London, but there was none. She was exciting an unwanted amount of attention from the sailors of all nationalities who had just come ashore, or who were re-joining their ships. The men working on the docks shouted to her, grinning broadly, and although she did not understand the language she could guess at what they were suggesting and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and humiliation.

She held her head high as she walked past them, trying to ignore their shouts and whistles. She needed time to consider her options and she was heading for the only place she knew, which was the office of Rivers and Son, when a bold young man accosted her, taking her by the arm and speaking to her in a rapid foreign tongue. His meaning was obvious and when she shook her head, attempting to push him away, he merely laughed and tightened his grip. He was dragging her into a narrow passageway between two warehouses and she fought him with all her might, kicking out and screaming, but he was incredibly strong and her rage seemed to amuse rather than anger him. He hefted her over his shoulder and her world was suddenly upside down. Then, without warning, he crumpled to the ground, releasing her so suddenly that she sprawled on her face in the dust. She scrambled to her feet, but was prevented from escaping by another pair of arms wrapping themselves around her. Rosina screamed and bit the man's hand.

'Ouch! There's gratitude!' 'Roland?' She twisted round in his arms and could have sobbed with relief to see a familiar face, even if she had been running away from him just a short while ago. She glanced down at the prostrate figure of the sailor and she shuddered. 'Have you killed him?'

'No, but he'll have a bit of a headache when he comes to. This is no place for you, Rosie. We'd best get you home.'

'You promised that you would see me on board the
River Pearl
. You broke your word.'

'I overslept. It's not the end of the world.' He took her by the hand and led her through the warehouses to the road where his carriage was waiting. 'There are other ships bound for London. I will see that you get home.'

She snatched her hand free. 'You just don't understand, do you? If I don't get back to London soon I won't have a home. Harry has given us two weeks' notice to quit the house in Black Eagle Wharf.'

'I thought that freeing Walter was your main aim.'

'And it is, but I have to fight to keep my home as well. You wouldn't understand that, being such a rich toff.'

Roland handed her into the carriage and climbed in after her. He did not attempt to sit beside her, but took a seat opposite, watching her closely. 'So what will you do when you return to London? It seems to me that there is very little to be done in the circumstances.'

She settled back against the padded leather squabs, rubbing her bruised wrists. 'If I can't persuade Harry to call off the bailiffs, at least we've got the
Ellie May
, and the repairs should be almost complete by now. My papa is the best barge captain on the Thames, and with Walter's help we can rebuild the trade. With a bit of luck we can repay the Gostellows and get our home back.'

'Is it as simple as that?'

'The way I look at it, yes.' Rosina leaned towards him. 'But I need your help, Roland. All you have to do is come back to London with me and help me clear Walter's name. Will you do that one thing for me, please?'

'Something tells me that I should put you on the next ship bound for London and be rid of you,' Roland said with a sigh. 'I was dragged from my bed this morning by Mrs Hopper, a lady whom it is not wise to cross, and I came hotfoot to rescue you from your own folly.' He flexed his fingers, grimacing with pain. 'And I damned well near broke my hands punching that fellow who was trying to abduct you, so don't ask me for any favours until I've had a cup of coffee and a glass of seltzer.'

Rosina opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a warning finger and she subsided into silence.

Mrs Hopper let them into the house with a supercilious sniff, but she had the good grace not to make any comments about Rosina's dishevelled state or the fact that the borrowed gown was torn and probably ruined.

'We'll take breakfast in the morning parlour,' Roland said, taking off his hat and kid gloves. 'But I suggest that Miss May changes out of that hideous frock. I never admired it on Vanessa and I certainly don't like it on you, Rosie.'

Bereft of speech, Rosina followed Mrs Hopper up the stairs to the room she had thought never to see again, where she suffered a lecture on how to behave in a foreign country while Mrs Hopper selected a yellow silk morning gown lavishly trimmed with black fringing, which she laid out on the bed. By this time the bath was run, and Rosina was just about to climb into the sweetly scented water when Mrs Hopper stuck her head round the door. 'Take my advice, young lady, and stop acting like a niminy-piminy schoolgirl. Use your wits and trade on your good looks to get what you wants.'

Rosina leapt into the tub and ducked as far under the water as she could without actually drowning. When she came up, gasping for air, she found that Mrs Hopper was still there. 'Leave me alone, you old witch. I told you before; I'm not that sort of girl.'

'High morals won't save your man in London, or your pa's boat.'

'You've been listening at keyholes.'

'How else am I to know what's going on in this here house? Anyway, you mind what I've just said. I've watched Mr Roland grow up from a little nipper in short breeches to the gent he is today. He's me blue-eyed boy and I likes to see him happy. So if you know what's good for you, you'll do whatever he wants and be grateful that it was him what saved you.' She shut the door with an emphatic bang, leaving Rosina in the rapidly cooling water. She climbed out and wrapped herself in the fluffy white bath sheet, glancing down at her forearms where bruises were already forming. If Roland had not come to her rescue she would undoubtedly have been raped in that narrow alley, maybe even murdered. She owed him much, and she would be even more in his debt if he could be persuaded to return to London with her and make things right with Harry. She dried herself, dressed in the gown that Mrs Hopper had chosen, and fashioned her hair into a chignon at the nape of her neck.

What happened now was entirely up to her. She went downstairs at a sober pace and found Roland waiting for her in the morning parlour. He rose from his seat at the table, holding out a chair for her.

'Yes,' she said as she took her place.

He resumed his seat, eyeing her with brows raised. 'Yes to what in particular?'

'Yes, I will be your lady love just once, if you will promise to take me back to London and make things right with Harry.'

His lips twitched. 'Just once?'

She unfolded the white linen table napkin and laid it across her lap. 'I have nothing else to offer. I just hope that Walter will forgive me.'

He poured coffee from a silver pot into a bone china coffee cup and handed it to her. 'It's not the most flattering offer I've ever had.'

'Now you're laughing at me.'

He reached across the table to pat her hand. 'No, my dear girl. To tell the truth, I admire your spirit and your tenacity, but I've never taken a woman against her will. I've never needed to, and I don't intend to start now.'

She sipped the hot coffee, avoiding his gaze. So it had all been for nothing. She had risked so much and it had all been in vain. Her throat ached with unshed tears and she barely noticed that the hot liquid was burning her mouth.