Read Red Rose for Free Online Page B

dressmaker protested that her professional reputation was at stake. She would lose half her patrons if it were seen that she had outfitted the protégée of the Earl of Raymore in a sack. She did, however, agree to necklines that were more modest than she favored, and to high-waisted gowns with skirts a trifle less figure-hugging than most young ladies desired.
    Rosalind had to be satisfied with the small victories she had won.
    ***
    It was only the following afternoon that Sylvia and Rosalind discovered the reason why one gown each had had to be delivered that same day. They were to attend the theater, it seemed, with their guardian and his friend Sir Henry Martel. The great Edmund Kean himself was to play Shylock.
    “Oh, I do think it kind of his lordship to arrange entertainment for us so soon,” Sylvia said to Cousin Hetty, her eyes shining. “I feared that he did not like us, that we were a nuisance to him, as he paid only that one brief call on us two days ago. But he has arranged this for us, and the ball next week.”
    “Cousin Edward is not accustomed to having ladies around him,” Hetty explained, attempting to tie a bow in the red ribbon that she had placed around the neck of one little poodle. “He does not know quite how to behave in female company, I believe. He is shy.”
    “Oh, do you believe so?” Sylvia asked, her eyes large with sympathy. “I had not thought of that. We must make an effort tonight to set him at his ease, Ros. Shall we?”
    Rosalind smiled fleetingly. ”I must disagree with Cousin Hetty,” she said. "The man is not shy. He is arrogant and he is a tyrant.”
    “Oh, I do not feel you should speak that way about his lordship,” Cousin Hetty said, flustered. “Hold still, Pootsie, my love. After all, my dear, he has invited each of us into his home and has seen to it that we have every comfort.”
    Rosalind did not reply. She had no wish to begin an argument. She was relieved to find during the conversation that ensued, though, that the earl was to dine with his friend and that the two of them would return in time to escort the ladies to the theater. During the play she would be able to direct her attention to the action on the stage. Only during the carriage ride would she be forced to make conversation with that horrid man. She dreaded seeing him again. Her interview with him the previous morning had convinced her that he was the kind of man she most disliked. To him women were not persons at all. They were mere chattels who were made to be seen and not heard, who were to kiss with gratitude the ground before the man who deigned to notice them. Rosalind had never been a rebellious girl. She had been used to living her own very private life while sharing a home with relatives she loved and respected. But she neither liked nor respected the Earl of Raymore, and she had no intention of allowing him to rule her life. She had decided the previous day, after her meeting with him, that there could be nothing but open warfare between the two of them. She would cross him at every opportunity that presented itself.
    The earl himself was having similar thoughts. He had avoided meeting his wards after that first formal introduction. He had no wish to exert himself in making the kind of polite and inane conversation that women seemed to enjoy. And he did not wish to give that Italian spitfire a chance to cross swords with him again. He knew now beyond a doubt that she was trouble, but he would handle her. He had been pleased to learn from Hetty that she had attended a modiste along with his young cousin and had been fitted for all the garments that would be necessary during the Season. Perhaps she had learned that it was pointless to argue with him. But Raymore doubted it.
    When he entered the drawing room of his own home after dinner with Sir Henry, he was pleasantly impressed. His cousin Sylvia now looked perfect for her part. Her hair had been trimmed so that