Chapter 24: An Unwelcome Visitor

London, Spring 1867

For weeks, Rose was confined to the house while slowly recuperating. Lady Wilkes had left strict instructions for the convalescence, and Priscilla enforced those rules without mercy. In this she found loyal support from Jim who would not allow Rose to exert herself at all. In her enforced idleness Rose busied herself with reading.

Outwardly, Priscilla was living in the guest cottage, but for all practical purposes she spent the days and even some nights in the manor house. Ostensibly, this was for the purpose of looking after the convalescent Rose. Jim and Rose settled into a platonic menage a trois with Priscilla, somewhat akin to the relationship they'd had with Raven. Rose was not up to any physical form of relationship with Jim, but they slept cuddled up to each other enjoying the closeness. More often than not Priscilla was lying close to Rose's unoccupied side. Everything was innocent and friendly.

Come the March, Jim had to attend a series of meetings in London, and with Jim unwilling to leave Rose behind, the Tremaynes moved into their Chelsea house. While Priscilla resumed her duties as Lady Wilkes' private secretary, she lived as a guest at Cheyne Walk spending her evenings and some nights with Jim and Rose.

By this time, Rose was feeling well enough again to become active in her charitable roles, and often the two friends met at Lady Wilkes' home during the day. As for Jim, he spent increasing time with Lord Lambert and some of his exalted friends. The American Civil War had brought changes to the political situation in the Americas, and Lord Lambert's friends were in need of a person with insight. Thus Jim spent many hours explaining the situation in the westernmost territories of the United States, but also the shape of commerce and infrastructure, as well as the natural resources found there.

One evening in April, Jim arrived at Cheyne Walk and found Rose and Priscilla working side by side at a desk in their study. Rose jumped up to give Jim a welcoming hug and kissed him. She seemed slightly flustered and glowing at the same time. Jim cast a look at Priscilla, but their friend gave him only a short, shy nod and focussed on her writing again.

Jim also caught a whiff of a scent when Rose kissed him, a scent both familiar and strange at the same time.

"Darling! You're home!" Rose smiled, hugging him closely. "You've been gone all day again."

Jim nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, dear."

Rose gave him a smile. "I understand."

Jim smiled. "Let us speak about our day at dinner. Can we expect you to join us, Cilla?"

Priscilla barely looked up, but she nodded. Jim thought he saw her blush. He shrugged. Perhaps Rose could enlighten him.

"I'll go up and change. This collar is choking me to death!"

"Poor darling!" Rose sympathised. "Let me help you get changed!"

She accompanied him to the upper floor and their bedroom. While Jim stood still, she opened his buttons with her small and nimble fingers.

"What is it with Cilla this evening?" Jim enquired. "She looks as if she had a bad conscience."

"Oh!" Rose blushed. "I was going to tell you tonight. Something happened this afternoon."

"What happened?"

"We kissed." Rose stated, looking at Jim sheepishly.

"You and... ?"

"Yes. It just happened, Jim. That horrible Gainsworth woman harangued Cilla again, and when she came home she was so despondent that I wanted to give her solace. I held her while she cried and when she had cried herself out she looked at me with so much tenderness and love that I had to kiss her."

Jim swallowed. This was clearly beyond the casual intimacy they had shared with Raven.

"Did she... ?"

"She kissed me back," Rose nodded. "Jim, Cilla had been with a cousin years ago. She is not adverse to exchanging ... hugs and kisses with a woman."

"And you?"

"You know my story, Jim. Sometimes, when a day had been truly horrible, one of the other girls and I gave solace to each other."

He could tell that Rose was getting worried. Oh, well! He was getting worried too.

"Hrhm, you and Cilla, you're not going to ... I mean, I need you, Rose!"

"Oh Jim!" Rose gasped. "Of course not! Never! I could not stand losing you! No, it's just that Cilla has nobody like you, and I owe her so much as you know. It's exciting too," she ended in a whisper blushing furiously.

"So you're not like Colleen MacAllister and her painter friend, Melissa Martin?"

Rose shook her head. "No! My love for you is stronger than ever. I think ... Maybe I'm wrong, but I have the feeling that Cilla is still in love with you."

Jim made a face and could not help but blushing himself. "That's ... I ... How can that work?"

Rose shrugged. "Say a word, and I'll never kiss Cilla again. That's how much I love you. We could also ... I think Cilla may be willing to ... be involved with us?"

"I have heard of such relationships but they rarely work in the long term."

"So, do you want me to stop things with Cilla?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know! I owe her your life. I don't want to make her miserable. Only I ... when she shared our bed ... I cannot help it! Rose, she once was all I wanted! I don't want to..."

"Be tempted by her?" Rose asked. "She would be a temptation. She is beautiful, and she is a good person. She looks so youthful too. Yes, I can see how you are tempted by her. Yet, is that so terrible?

"Jim, I know that you don't place much value in the teachings of the church, and neither do I. You also view society and its rules with the same amused distance as I do. Why do we have to abide by the rules in the privacy of our home?"

"What are you suggesting, Rose?"

"I'm suggesting that you and I will be open-minded."

Jim took a deep breath. "I admit to being flustered. Cilla and I have made our peace, but I have always tried to ... suppress any improper thoughts and feelings."

"Jim, poor Cilla has never known the loving touch of a man. You were too much of a gentleman, and that lout of her husband was as rotten as a lover as he was rotten as an officer. You can finally give her a taste of what love can be."

"And you would ... agree?"

"I might even watch and assist. Jim, you give me so much love! If I share a tiny fraction of this love with Cilla, she will have plenty to be happy, and I shall miss very little."

"What if she ... what if she develops feelings for me?"

"I would hope that she will. I am almost certain that she has them already. Will you give it some thought?"

"I don't know how I can have dinner with her without blushing but I will think about it."

He was changed by now and they returned downstairs. Little Bobby was already sitting at the table with his nanny watching him, and Cilla joined them shortly after still intently studying the pattern of the floor boards. Once Miss Bennett had served the soup, Rose looked at Priscilla.

"Cilla, I told Jim. He is not angry."

Priscilla closed her eyes in anguish. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jim gave her a wry smile. "Don't be. I know from experience how little say one has when Rose sets her mind on something."

That brought a weak smile to Priscilla's face and she looked up. "She is like that, isn't she? Jim, do you wish for me to move out?"

Seeing her and her obvious fear of losing his friendship he could not help but feel deep tenderness for her. "Only if you want to. It's Rose's mess anyway. Let her clear it up!"

°°°

By late summer, a wedding had to be organised. Mr. Donovan was now a fully established surgeon, and he was eager to complete his courtship of Samantha. On the ninth of September 1867, Mr. Alistair Donovan, RCS, and Miss Samantha Tremayne spoke their wedding vows in the presence of family and friends. The ceremony and the subsequent festive dinner were held at Thornfield Abbey. Bride and groom would have their honey moon on the continent giving Samantha an opportunity to put the French to good use that she had so diligently practised. They would return to their own household. Jim had found a comfortable house in Chelsea that he gave Samantha for a dowry. This ensured that she could stay in touch with Rose and with Bobby for whom Sam had been almost like a second mother.

In late September, the Tremaynes moved back to London. The season was about to start and Rose was looking forward to it with mixed feelings. In early October, Jim had to leave for two days to make arrangements with his brother. Rose and Priscilla were reading upstairs when the doorbell sounded. Lydia Bennett had gone to the market, and so Rose went downstairs to open the door herself. A man was standing in front of the door, a man whom Rose did not know. The cut of his suit marked him as American.

"Yes? What can I do for you, Mister?"

"I'm Landon Moore. Landon Bunion was my uncle," the man said coldly.

Rose felt alarm but also anger. "What do you want, Mr. Moore?" she asked in her coldest voice.

"I want what's mine!"

"Then you have obviously lost your way. There is nothing here to which you have claim."

"That's where you're plain wrong," Moore sneered. "You have a lot to which I'll lay claim."

"I believe you had better leave, Mr. Moore. I have nothing to say to you," Rose answered closing the door in the man's face.

He put his foot in the door. "You wouldn't want me to knock on doors here telling all them stuffy Englishmen that you were nothing but a lousy saloon whore, would you? I reckon that would hurt your repo ... repudiation, wouldn't it?"

"So it's blackmail you're after?" Rose asked, outwardly cold but having a sinking feeling inside.

"Let's just say you owe my family. It's with you our troubles began." He pushed himself into the entrance hall. "Not bad, not bad at all! But then I knew you'n your man struck a bonanza."

"How'd you ever find us here?" Rose could not help but ask.

"Easy. Once I told your good friend, Mrs. Kennedy, that you were nothin' but a whore, a dirty Irish tavern wench, she was right angry. Told me everything, she did."

Scarlet Kennedy had run her mouth on Rose. That two-faced, self-righteous bitch! Rose felt hatred at the stupid cow. She knew she had to control her temper now. If Moore told on her the effects would be disastrous for her, but even more so for Jim and Bobby. Yet, she knew without a doubt that Landon Moore would expose her anyway. She had to provoke him. He had already entered the house against her will, but she needed a bit more as justification to silence the man.

"There is a problem with paying off blackmailers," Rose said forcing her voice to be even. "They never stop. And then things will get out anyway. It's only a matter of time. Paying you money will only delay the inevitable. Leave our house now! You will not receive a single penny. Go!"

Rose knew that Priscilla had to hear them, and she hoped her friend would be able to get help if things turned ugly. The housekeeper would not be back for some time, and Jim was not expected back until the late evening.

"Are you crazy, you bitch? I'll ruin you!" Moore spat.

"You'll do that anyway. There is no sense in paying you for it too, is there?"

"You... ! My uncle was right about you! You're a shameless whore!"

"Your uncle was a deviant drunkard. He had to pay for companionship because none of the women in Independence would even look at him."

Moore's eyes burned with anger. "You whore! Somebody has to teach you manners."

Rose had moved backwards, her back now against a chest of drawers. The top drawer held Jim's old Navy Colt she knew, and it was loaded. Unfortunately, Bunion was too close already for her to reach for the weapon. She needed a diversion but could not think of one.

"That would take a man, not a Bunion," she snapped back nonetheless.

"By God, you dirty whore! I'll teach you yet!"