Rosemarie avoided his eyes, confirming his suspicion that she had not told him the whole story. ‘Perhaps if you could help me get to London?’
‘To be a seamstress?’ Brock shook his head. ‘I do not think you would enjoy that very much, Miss Ross. Far better to stay with my friends and allow me the privilege of sorting out this mess for you.’
‘Why should you do so much for me? You do not know me at all.’
‘No, but I saved your life—and the ancient civilisations say that once you save a life you are responsible for that life.’
Rosemarie laughed and shook her head. ‘That is silly, Major. I am sure you cannot want the bother of dealing with my aunt and uncle and sorting out my troubles.’
‘No, you wrong me, Miss Ross. I never make a promise I don’t intend to keep—and I promise that I shall do all I can to put this muddle straight.’
‘Well, are you perfectly sure that your friends would not find me a nuisance?’
‘Once you meet Amanda you will know that she could never find you a nuisance. I dare say that she will be reluctant to part with you when the time comes.’
‘But what shall I do?’ Rosemarie asked doubtfully. ‘If I had another aunt I could live with, I might see an end to all this, but I cannot stay with your friends for ever. Even if you were to recover a part of my fortune.’
‘I shall also endeavour to find your old nurse, and if you have money you may pay for a respectable lady to be your chaperon. Besides, if your aunt and uncle were sent packing, you might like to return to your home with your nurse—until it is time for you to come out.’
‘But it is time now,’ Rosemarie pointed out. ‘I asked my aunt to bring me to London, or indeed Bath, but she said Sir Montague wished to marry me and there was no point, because I would not find a more suitable husband...’
‘I do not know why she should say that,’ Brock said. ‘I am certain that you could find any number of suitors given time.’
‘I might not,’ Rosemarie said and lowered her gaze. ‘Perhaps I should tell you everything. Mama was not a respectable person.’
‘What do you mean?’ Brock looked at her in astonishment.
‘Papa had a wife...she lived in an institution. He took Mama to live at the Manor with him until she died giving birth to me, but she was never his wife.’ Rosemarie bit her bottom lip. ‘You see, that is why everyone thinks I’m lucky that Sir Montague is prepared to marry a bastard. I may be rich, but I am still illegitimate.’
Brock was stunned into silence for a moment. Her revelation did alter the circumstances a little. She might be rich, if her fortune could be saved from these grasping relatives, but some people would consider that she could never enter the ranks of society, because her father was not married to her mother.
‘Why did they not marry?’
‘Papa was a Roman Catholic and so was his wife. He said he could not obtain a divorce and remain within his church—and Mama said rather than make him terribly unhappy, she agreed to live with him. He always said she was his wife in everything but name and he promised me that they were happy until she died.’
‘Ah, that explains it.’ Brock shook his head. ‘Are you also a Roman Catholic?’
‘No. Papa said it was a curse and allowed my aunt to bring me up in a more forgiving faith and I was grateful to her. Indeed, we got on very well until Sir Montague offered for me and they saw a way of taking over the Manor. However, I remain grateful that I was brought up as a Protestant for I would never join a church that could condemn a child to be born out of wedlock because her parents were not allowed to marry. Had Papa divorced his wife, who would have known nothing of it, Mama would have been respectable and I might not be in this predicament.’
‘Yes, I see. How very sad for your parents,’ Brock said. ‘I understand a man’s faith is important, but...’ He shook his head. ‘It is not my affair. Thank you for telling me the whole. Having secrets does not help when you are dealing with people such as your aunt and uncle—and this Sir Montague.’
‘No, it was just that...’ She looked at him uncertainly. ‘Do you still think I’m a suitable person for your friends to meet?’
‘I am quite certain they will not hold your birth against you, Miss Ross,’ he said. ‘Now, I believe that is the doctor I can hear on the stairs. I shall leave you to speak to him alone.’
‘You will still help me?’
‘Of course. I gave you my word. I shall not go back on it,’ Brock said, and smiled at her. ‘Try not to brood on your wrongs, child. Everyone concerned has treated you very badly, but I shall find a way out of this mess for you. Just believe that not everyone is as evil as those people you have fled from.’
Leaving her just as the elderly doctor entered, Brock toyed with the problem he’d taken on. He had no doubt that Sir Roxbourgh and his lady had high hopes of keeping hold of both the Manor and the jewels, while Sir Montague was hoping to become the owner of several mills. However, he had a lawyer in London who would move heaven and earth to please his favourite client and Brock did not doubt that the fraud could be exposed. Whether it could be done without scandal reflecting on Miss Ross herself was another matter. As an illegitimate child, she would be ostracised by most society hostesses—and though she might not mind that, Brock found that he did for her sake.
He would certainly discuss the legal details with his lawyer, but as for the rest? That would take some clever planning if they were to come off without a scandal of the first degree.
As yet he had not asked himself the question why he had decided to take up the cudgels on Rose Mary’s—no, Rosemarie’s, he smiled at the change of name—behalf. It might have something to do with the unease and feeling of guilt that had come over him when he was told of Sister Violet’s death, but if that were the case his mind had not understood it. All Brock knew was that a young woman stood in desperate trouble and this time he would do all in his power to see that she did not come to harm.
Brock was still uncertain whether she’d confessed the whole, but her revelations concerning her mother were startling and made her situation even more unfortunate. Indeed, many of the ladies who might have taken her under their wing would not contemplate the idea of harbouring a bastard, however delightful she might be.
Brock sat at the desk in the parlour he had taken at the inn. He was obliged to remain here for two more days, until Miss Ross was sufficiently recovered to travel. He must write to the friends he had let down and explain that he was delayed—and he must also write to Amanda and Phipps, asking if they would take in the young lady he’d rescued until he found alternative accommodation for her. He did not think that Amanda would be shocked by the circumstances of Rosemarie’s birth, but he would be obliged to tell her.
Rosemarie needed something for a few months, at least until her problems were settled, and there was no telling how long that might take. Brock could not expect his friends to keep her more than a week or two. Had he been married, he could have asked his wife to chaperon her while he... Of course, he must write to Cynthia, too.
He sighed deeply, feeling uneasy and doubtful of the future. Cynthia Langton was a charming young woman and beautiful, but the more Brock saw of her the less certain he was that they would suit once they were married—and yet only a cad would withdraw now.
He had intended to visit her this weekend, but now he might be tied up for weeks with this affair. It was a nuisance and he could not be surprised if Cynthia were to be angry. Brock had shamefully neglected his fiancée and he knew he must make amends. Perhaps he would leave Miss Ross and travel down to see Cynthia this weekend and explain