Page 80 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

Cowling looked startled, then smiled unwillingly. ‘You’re joking, I know. But you mean the world to me, Nina. If anything were to happen to you…’

‘Nothing will happen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘Dr Nicholson wouldn’t take chances with me any more than you would.’

‘You think I’m fussing,’ he said, ‘and I suppose I am. I know how annoying that can be. So have your way. I want you to be happy.’

‘I am happy,’ she said. ‘But we haven’t talked about a name yet.’

He was successfully distracted. ‘I have been thinking, and it’s a puzzler. There’s lots of names I like, but none of them seem to fit her. I rather fancied calling her Antonia after you, but she doesn’t look like an Antonia.’

‘And I thought of calling her Josephine after you, but she’s not a Josephine either.’

‘Oh, no,’ he said, almost indignantly. ‘Then, I’ve always liked Adela as a name. Or Victoria. But they don’t fit, somehow.’

‘Who would have believed it could be so difficult?’ Nina said. ‘I suppose I thought babies came with names attached.’

‘Well, sometimes they do, if it’s a family name – then it’s John or Mary willy-nilly, no discussion needed.’

Her eyes widened. ‘It’s just come to me – like divine inspiration. Only if you like it, of course. But what do you think of Amelia?’

She watched him rehearse it with his lips, as if tasting it. ‘I like it,’ he said. ‘And it suits her. She could be an Amelia. Yes, it’s a nice, pretty name.’

‘Amelia Victoria?’ Nina said.

‘I like that. She’s our victory all right.’

Nina saw his pleasure with pleasure of her own. He was a kind, good man, and she loved him. And the baby would grow up to look, as much as girls ever looked like their fathers, like him. She would consider no other possibility.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Rachel woke on the morning of her birthday, her immediate feeling was one of relief. Now no-one could stop her marrying Angus. She lay for a little while pursuing pleasant thoughts until Rose came in, pulled her curtains and said, ‘Morning, my lady.’

Rachel sat up in bed. ‘You didn’t say “happy birthday”.’

‘Can’t see the reason of celebrating a birthday. We all have one every year.’

‘But it’s my twenty-first. It’s special.’

Rose managed to look slightly less disagreeable. ‘Happy birthday, my lady. What shall I put out for you?’

Rachel’s mood had changed. ‘Twenty-one and not married yet. That’s what they’ll be thinking, isn’t it?’

‘Which “they” is that, my lady?’

‘Everyone. But it wasn’t my fault! I could have been married in my come-out year, but Mother thought no-one was good enough.’

‘I’m sure everyone knows that,’ Rose said, soothingly but with an undertone of impatience. ‘And you’ll be married very soon. Isn’t it better to have waited for the right person?’

The smiles returned. ‘Yes, you’re right. I love Angus, and I want to be Lady Rachel Tullamore more than anything.’

‘That’s the ticket,’ Rose said. ‘The yellow muslin, my lady? You can have your bath this evening before dressing for dinner.’

Having sent her charge out into the world – or at least down to breakfast – Rose left the bedroom and reached the service door to the back stairs at the same moment as Frederick. He held it open for her courteously, making her remember the late, unlamented James Hook who had served at various times as valet, footman and butler, and would have thrust through the door ahead of her – and let it swing back in her face. She gave Frederick a tight nod of thanks.

He said, ‘You all right, Rose? You look as if you’d lost sixpence and found a ha’penny. Have you got troubles?’

‘If I had, I wouldn’t tell you,’ she said.

‘Was it something her ladyship said?’ Frederick asked, following her onto the staircase. ‘Has she got troubles?’