100. A Rose In Jeopardy by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Cartland
fortune.”
“Nothing?” His bushy eyebrows rose. “Surely you must have something .”
Rosella was very glad that she was sitting down, as her whole body was trembling now.
“No, my Lord.”
She pictured the bag of sovereigns that her aunt had given her, safely locked in the drawer of her dressing table. He must never know of its existence.
“Your family, then. Where are they?”
Lord Brockley’s eyes glinted in the candlelight.
“Why did they not come for you when my sister died?”
“I have no family – ”
“How can that be?”
He frowned at her.
“My Mama and Papa – died.”
Fighting to keep her voice calm and level, Rosella explained about her family estate and how everything had been inherited by her elderly cousin.
“Then you must go to him.”
Rosella shook her head.
“He will not help me. He did not want me, when I became – an orphan.”
Lord Brockley grunted.
“That is no surprise. Children, nothing but trouble. Even one’s own. Well, there is nothing for it. You must find yourself a husband.”
Rosella did not know what to say.
“Perhaps you have some young admirer, who will take you off my hands?”
Rosella shook her head.
At that moment Algernon twitched in his sleep and made a loud spluttering noise, throwing out his hand and knocking a wineglass over.
Lord Brockley sighed impatiently.
“I am surrounded by useless fools,” he said. “I had fancied a game of cards after dinner. But look at him!”
Rosella did not want to look at Mr. Merriman, lying across her aunt’s beautiful mahogany table like an overfed pig dozing in its sty.
But she could not have seen him clearly even if she had tried as her eyes were blurred with stinging tears.
“So, Rosella,” Lord Brockley went on. “You have no fortune, no family, no beau to take you off my hands, so you had better make yourself useful. Get that old fool out of my sight and take him to his room.”
“But – ”
Rosella’s skin crawled at the thought of touching Algernon.
Lord Brockley slapped his hand on the table.
“Get to it!” he shouted. “And just remember whose house this is!”
Rosella jumped up and went around the table. She lifted one of Algernon’s plump arms and he rolled his head and sighed, “brandy.”
He did not open his eyes, even when she shook his arm and there was no way that she could move his heavy sleeping bulk.
“I can’t – ” she began, but before she could say any more, Mrs. Dawkins came into the dining room.
“The coffee, my Lord,” she announced, placing a large silver pot on the table.
Then she saw Rosella.
“Oh, my Lady, you mustn’t – ”
Lord Brockley banged his hand on the table again.
“Get him out of here and into his bed,” he shouted. “Or he will be good for nothing in the morning!”
Mrs. Dawkins scurried around the table and took Algernon’s other arm.
Between the two of them, they managed to heave his heavy body onto its feet. Algernon lifted up his head and blinked a couple of times.
“Can you walk, sir?” the housekeeper asked him.
“No!” he spluttered, as his head fell forward again.
“Please try, if you can,” Rosella suggested, as her shoulder was already aching with the weight of him.
“Oh, my angel!” he smiled woozily. “Hold on tight to me, that’s the ticket.”
At a snail’s pace, Rosella and Mrs. Dawkins helped him to make his way to the door of the dining room and then across the hall.
It was very difficult, as he was most reluctant to take a step if he did not have to and he was much too heavy for them to carry.
“Just let me rest,” he groaned, sitting down with a bump on the stairs. “And be with my little sweetheart.”
Rosella felt his hand gripping her arm and trying to pull her down with him.
“No!” she cried, her voice catching in her throat. “You must go to your room. Get up.”
He shook his head.
“Shan’t!” he muttered in a childish voice.
“His Lordship will be exceedingly
“Nothing?” His bushy eyebrows rose. “Surely you must have something .”
Rosella was very glad that she was sitting down, as her whole body was trembling now.
“No, my Lord.”
She pictured the bag of sovereigns that her aunt had given her, safely locked in the drawer of her dressing table. He must never know of its existence.
“Your family, then. Where are they?”
Lord Brockley’s eyes glinted in the candlelight.
“Why did they not come for you when my sister died?”
“I have no family – ”
“How can that be?”
He frowned at her.
“My Mama and Papa – died.”
Fighting to keep her voice calm and level, Rosella explained about her family estate and how everything had been inherited by her elderly cousin.
“Then you must go to him.”
Rosella shook her head.
“He will not help me. He did not want me, when I became – an orphan.”
Lord Brockley grunted.
“That is no surprise. Children, nothing but trouble. Even one’s own. Well, there is nothing for it. You must find yourself a husband.”
Rosella did not know what to say.
“Perhaps you have some young admirer, who will take you off my hands?”
Rosella shook her head.
At that moment Algernon twitched in his sleep and made a loud spluttering noise, throwing out his hand and knocking a wineglass over.
Lord Brockley sighed impatiently.
“I am surrounded by useless fools,” he said. “I had fancied a game of cards after dinner. But look at him!”
Rosella did not want to look at Mr. Merriman, lying across her aunt’s beautiful mahogany table like an overfed pig dozing in its sty.
But she could not have seen him clearly even if she had tried as her eyes were blurred with stinging tears.
“So, Rosella,” Lord Brockley went on. “You have no fortune, no family, no beau to take you off my hands, so you had better make yourself useful. Get that old fool out of my sight and take him to his room.”
“But – ”
Rosella’s skin crawled at the thought of touching Algernon.
Lord Brockley slapped his hand on the table.
“Get to it!” he shouted. “And just remember whose house this is!”
Rosella jumped up and went around the table. She lifted one of Algernon’s plump arms and he rolled his head and sighed, “brandy.”
He did not open his eyes, even when she shook his arm and there was no way that she could move his heavy sleeping bulk.
“I can’t – ” she began, but before she could say any more, Mrs. Dawkins came into the dining room.
“The coffee, my Lord,” she announced, placing a large silver pot on the table.
Then she saw Rosella.
“Oh, my Lady, you mustn’t – ”
Lord Brockley banged his hand on the table again.
“Get him out of here and into his bed,” he shouted. “Or he will be good for nothing in the morning!”
Mrs. Dawkins scurried around the table and took Algernon’s other arm.
Between the two of them, they managed to heave his heavy body onto its feet. Algernon lifted up his head and blinked a couple of times.
“Can you walk, sir?” the housekeeper asked him.
“No!” he spluttered, as his head fell forward again.
“Please try, if you can,” Rosella suggested, as her shoulder was already aching with the weight of him.
“Oh, my angel!” he smiled woozily. “Hold on tight to me, that’s the ticket.”
At a snail’s pace, Rosella and Mrs. Dawkins helped him to make his way to the door of the dining room and then across the hall.
It was very difficult, as he was most reluctant to take a step if he did not have to and he was much too heavy for them to carry.
“Just let me rest,” he groaned, sitting down with a bump on the stairs. “And be with my little sweetheart.”
Rosella felt his hand gripping her arm and trying to pull her down with him.
“No!” she cried, her voice catching in her throat. “You must go to your room. Get up.”
He shook his head.
“Shan’t!” he muttered in a childish voice.
“His Lordship will be exceedingly