A Most Mysterious Gentleman (#1 Sweet Nineteenth Series) VERY SLOW UPDATES

AMMG ~2~

Rosalie harrumphed as she tossed her reins to the new stable lad, a scrawny freckled ginger boy, and nails long and thick with dirt. She gave the mare a quick pat on the neck, and snuck her one of the treats she had been hiding in her riding coat for occasions such as this as the lad led Francesca away into her large, airy stable.

"Get your nails cut boy! You're in the Duke's company now, you will not disrespect him with bad manners and poor hygiene!" She exclaimed after him, stomping her small feet on the ground.

After making sure the mare had water, was untacked and rubbed down, the boy came out, shamefacedly.

He tipped his hat, "beggin' ya pardon My Lady."

"Well that's not good enough is it? What would your mother think of you?"

His green eyes met hers, and she recoiled with how young he looked, surely the stable manager would not employ someone so young?

"What is your name?" She tried to ask gently, embarrassed by her outburst before. But that man on the trail indeed! He had worsened her already bad mood. He hadn't been a gentleman at all. At least she had suspected he was gentry from the quality of clothes. She suspected he was a rakehell or worse. After all, she hadn't been introduced to everyone in this area as of yet, and she knew she hadn't met him because she certainly hadn't been introduced to the blasted man.

"My nam' is Freddie Miss."

"My Lady to you Freddie, and how old are you?"

As she reached to touch his arm in a peaceful gesture, he flinched away, pulling the sleeves of his dirty brown coat as far down as possible.

"I'm 9 My Lady."

Somewhere, the maternal sympathy emerged from Rosalie.

"Did our stable manager hire you?"

"Yea' My Lady."

She resolved to speak to the manager later about him, and sort out some new clothes and a little education.

"Anyway, good lad. Excuse my um- outburst before. I have had a rather bad day, although I know that isn't a suitable lady's excuse for a bad temperament. Now quickly run along." She shooed him along as shouts for him by the stable manager echoed across the stable yard.

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"Rosalie! Where have you been?" Rosalie heard her Father's booming voice through the great house just after she had entered the door, let in by the friendly Butler.

She flinched. Wondering through the hallway, she resisted the urge to slide on the cool, grey marble floor.

"I've was out on a ride Father! You know that the fresh air puts roses in my cheeks." She tried using her most innocent voice, but cringed inwardly at the poor excuse which she knew her Father would see through.

"Without a chaperone Rose? We've discussed social etiquette in London, 'tis not the country anymore! The Marquess of Wilborough has been here on calling for you! How does it reflect on me that my daughter's only suitor is being abandoned by the woman he wishes to call upon? He could have plenty of other women. But for some reason he has chosen you. And remember you need to be ready for the ball tonight, maybe you can find any man there who will marry you."

She watched as he descended the grand staircase, sending pointed glares her way, yet she couldn't help but feel hurt by the several direct comments in the sentence.

Instead of confronting him, her hurt drove her to the kitchens to find Eva. Her friend would understand, she would understand why she could never marry the Marquess.

The gossip mills had already run the proposed match of them both, and how suitable the match they would make, but she had overheard the women of the ton exclaiming at his disgusting odour, his physical appearance and poor clothing sense, not to mention the age gap between them.

She would not marry him.

She would rather remain a spinster or go live back in the country. After all, she had plans for a marriage where she was a least a little attracted to the man. She would not wish for a marriage of love, that was almost certainly less common, and after seeing her Father's reaction when her mother had died, she wished not the pain on anyone.

With the Duke refusing to go to house parties or even country dances, Rosalie had grown up with just her Father as real company, and as a result they were unnaturally close for the typical society family. She had been taught to debate, to read well, and often, and when she became passionate for horses, her father taught her to ride astride, scandalous for women.

She had been an almost wild child, galloping on the ponies bareback that her father had provided for her, climbing trees, swimming in ponds, but her passion for horseflesh was the hobby not doused. She broke horses sympathically, her feminine nature the locals said tamed the creatures. But even her passion for the animals did not fill the gap for female companionship, so when she'd seen Eva be interviewed for a scullery maid as a girl of three and ten, seeing another female of her own age she'd implored to her father that she needed a ladies maid, as that was what she was now. A lady.

True to her word, she'd matured and blossomed into society's diamond of the first water. She could mould herself into a given situation, but only if she wanted to. Her wilful nature still remained, she was spoilt too much some suggested, spared the rod too frequently, and eventually it would be her downfall it was whispered behind fluttering fans.
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Eva attempted to tuck a stray blonde curl back into Rosalie's updo, as Rosalie's shoulders shook.
"Rosalie, you really are my dearest friend but you need to stop crying, you'll smudge your face make up." The dark liquid put on Rosalie's eyelashes was running down her face, and the white powder, put on to lighten her complexion due to the too much time outside, was containing streaks.

"But I can't believe he said that! I'm not ugly am I? Do I smell? Is my clothing taste so bad even the men of the ton notice? My coming out ball was fine was it not? But he is correct, why has no other man offered for my hand? I have a large dowry for goodness sakes!"

"Perhaps the discerning, yet formidable character of your father has put them off? He is a powerful man."

"There. Done. Now go off and have a nice dance, and find some nice young man, that will love you for who you really are."

Rosalie held her friends cheek and embraced her.

"You really are my best friend Eva. What would I do without you?"

"Most likely be on the front pages of the newspapers with your scandalous activity." She elbowed her friends side.

"Now sort out your make up and be on your way."

Rosalie walked down the staircase to the carriage outside. Her blue high corseted dress did affect her breathing, so even the walk down the staircase was a struggle. The colour was scandalous, just how she liked it, not the pastels or the whites of young girls,as light colours washed her out but the colour of this particular dress brought out her eyes.

Richard, her favourite butler, helped her through the door, and the footman, new she detected by his shock at her 'thank-you', helped her into the carriage behind her father.

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The ride into town was beautiful, the candlelight through the houses they passed shone into the night, causing an evanesce of light as they drove into the gateway of the seat of Rochester. The glow the emanated from the house, and the delightful sounds of music and laughter made Rosalie sigh.
As she stepped out of the carriage and into the house, she made sure to be as ladylike and dignified as possible.

As the butler proclaimed her and her father's name to the audience at the bottom, she gasped.

The unmistakable silohuette of the man she had met in the morning was at the foot of the stairs leading into the ballroom.