A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Forty

A bonfire cast an eerie glow in the predawn sky. In the great cloud of smoke drifting over the Hudson were the ashes of linens, clothing and dozens of toys. Cecilia's and Josephine's rooms had been stripped bare amid cries of protest from the children and their mother, their possessions carried to the river's edge and tossed in a heap to burn on Belinda's orders. Never mind that only Cecilia had the dreaded fever; Dr. Wells confirmed that Josephine's illness was just a nasty cold, which she'd passed on to her sister, who lacked the defenses to fight the infection and prevent it from turning into something worse. Richard, who still shared Josie's room, showed no signs of sickness at all. Belinda, however, was convinced the family was in the grips of a contagion.

While the doctor scurried around town, making house calls to all the families whose children played with the Scott girls during their holiday party, Belinda went on a rampage in the mansion. The house was immediately quarantined and all its occupants banned from further contact with the two sick girls. By the wee hours of the morning, the few remaining guests, nearly all of them relatives from New York, departed. Bill, Lucy, Richard and Skipper went with them. Sebastian left too, promising Rose he'd take care of her "situation." With all the excitement, Rose had forgotten about it.

She was left alone with Belinda, Randolph and a handful of maids who weren't too nervous to stay and wait for their pay. Arnolde, now married, had been allowed to go home early to his wife and their new house in town, leaving stacks of dirty dishes and cookware in the kitchen. While two of the maids set about cleaning up in there, Belinda ordered Rose and the others to begin emptying out the nursery.

Wringing her hands in dismay, Victoria followed them. "Is it necessary to destroy everything?" she pleaded with Belinda. "My father gave her that stuffed bear for her first birthday."

"Yes," Belinda explained with forced patience, "the doctor insisted."

Victoria raised an even louder fuss when they moved on to Josephine's room, adding her protests to Josie's screams, but was again overruled. But she got her way when she saw where they were taking her children's things: the fireplace in the great room. There was no way, she proclaimed, that she would see her daughters' dolls burned in her house. They would build a fire outside or none at all.

Which was how Rose came to be standing at her window at sunrise, having had no sleep the night before, watching the remnants of a bonfire by the river.

Arnolde and Randolph had the day off, so Rose prepared a light breakfast of oatmeal and carried trays up to Belinda and the girls. She was surprised to see William and Victoria in their customary places at the dining room table when she returned downstairs.

"Rose, would you mind fixing a pot of coffee, please?" William requested. "And I'll have poached eggs and toast."

"William!" his wife admonished. "Surely you don't expect the poor girl to cook?"

"Who else is going to do it? We gave Arnolde today off."

"She just spent half the night cleaning the children's rooms."

"I don't like it any more than you do, dear," he responded, "but I'm sure we both prefer that bit of unpleasantness to having the other children get sick."

Victoria sat up straighter and stiffer in her chair. "Are you aware that during that 'bit of unpleasantness' some of Richard's things were disposed of? Including his tennis racket? You know how much he enjoys to play. And he didn't as much as sneeze!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, tennis rackets can be replaced." William opened his newspaper with an irritated snap, but his wife made it clear the conversation wasn't over yet.

"I suppose you think we can snap our fingers and everything will be replaced, just like that?" He ignored her. "Well, if you won't admit that she overreacted, will you at least ask her to help out around the house sometime? Rose is dead on her feet. I'll bet you even sent her to fetch the paper."

"As a matter of fact, I walked to the end of the drive and picked it up. You don't think caring for a sickly child is a full-time job, perhaps you should leave the bed and brandy and see for yourself!"

Rose, in the doorway bearing orange juice on a breakfast cart, discreetly backed into the kitchen.

Later that day, after sneaking away to her room for some shut-eye, Rose decided to check on Josephine. She was alarmed when she didn't find her in bed, but considering the mood in the house, she chose not to alert anyone just yet. A thorough floor-by-floor search led her to the little girl, asleep under the Christmas tree in the playroom. Rose shook her gently and she cried out.

"Shh...it's all right, it's me, Rose." Josephine threw her arms around her, knocking her on her fanny. Rose laughed--then realized Josie was sobbing.

"Don't let her find me! She threw all my dolls away, and my hair ribbons, and Skip's toys, and--"

Rose rocked her like an infant. "She's upstairs, sleeping. Everyone in the house is taking a nap, Josie. We had a long and scary night."

The tears stopped as suddenly as they began. Josephine cupped her hands to Rose's ear and whispered, "She forgot to come down here. I have to guard these toys so she won't get them, too."

Rose was overpowered by a wave of pity for the child, having most of her treasured belongings snatched from her and burned, and even her mother had been powerless to stop it. And her governess hadn't tried.

"How about I lock this door?" she suggested. "Belinda won't know where the key is and we'll pretend we don't know, either."

Josephine smiled, and for a split second Rose caught a glimpse of the beautiful young woman she would grow into.

Then she coughed. Rose hastened her upstairs, then returned to lock the playroom.

*****

There was no word from Sebastian on Sunday, or Monday, either, but on Tuesday he arrived unexpectedly, with good news for Rose. A friend of his had connections within the New York Police Department, and prevailed upon a couple of them to pay a visit to Thomas Franklin at his office--the address of which was on a business card he gave Rose. Threats of imprisonment convinced the private investigator that Rose was not the woman he sought.

"He won't be troubling you again," Sebastian promised, while inwardly promising himself that she would never learn the truth. The police hadn't gotten involved at all. The two men his friend had hired were thugs who'd beaten Franklin senseless. And his friend wasn't really a friend; he was someone who was helping Sebastian with another matter, something so private he couldn't even share it with the woman he loved.

But then again, he told himself, Rose wasn't being forthcoming with him, either.

*****

"I think it's too soon." Belinda's voice was strident, persistent, intended to block any argument. "Cecilia is still not feeling well. She doesn't need the stress."

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," Victoria pleaded. She turned to her husband for support, but he sat quietly in an armchair, seemingly disinterested. "I won't have my children spending Christmas away from home," she stated firmly. "Mother's chauffeur is bringing them back this afternoon. I'll make sure they stay out of Cecilia's room, not that you'd allow them anywhere near their sister."

Determined to have the final word, Victoria left the study, not noticing Rose, who was sweeping the foyer. Once she was out of sight, Rose drifted closer to the open doorway of the study, where she could hear everything being said.

"The rash is gone," Belinda was saying, "but the fever is not. I'm sure the doctor will agree with me. Cecilia needs a more stable environment."

"Are you saying that the supervision of a full-time nurse is insufficient?" Rose envisioned William's eyebrows raising.

"A little cooperation would be helpful," Belinda replied, unruffled as always. "Without the support of the rest of her family, Cecilia's health will never improve."

"What more can we do?"

"You can start by keeping the children quiet this afternoon."

No chance of that. A fully healed Josephine squealed with delight at the sight of Richard and the dog, and when her brother discovered some of his belongings were missing, she couldn't wait to point the finger at Belinda. He confronted the nurse angrily in the presence of Rose and the other children.

"You set fire to my tennis racket! You're buying me another one!"

"Serves you right," Lucy teased him. "You need to spend more time on your schoolwork, anyway."

"Hush, both of you!" Belinda was at the end of her rope. "Do you care nothing for your sister? She needs her rest."

"You better not have burned up anything of mine." Lucy tossed her head theatrically and strutted down the hall to her room.

Randolph arrived to rescue Belinda from any further squabbles. "Dr. Wells is here, ma'am."

"It's about time. This mess will finally be resolved." As Belinda followed Randolph downstairs, Rose and Bill exchanged glances. Rose shrugged.

Bill grinned at her. "I'll help you with your chores for a week if you play spy."

The study door was closed this time, but Rose had no trouble following the war of words going on within. Victoria was enraged, her voice nearly a shout and getting louder.

"How can you even suggest such a thing?"

"Victoria, won't you at least listen to what they have to say?"

"A sanitarium, Will." She was in hysterics now. "They want to put our baby in an institution!"

"It's a care facility for children with chronic illnesses," Dr. Wells tried to explain. "The best of its kind in the state."

"It's a sanitarium! A place where sick people are sent to die."

There was a groan at Rose's back. She looked over her shoulder and saw Bill.

Behind the door, Belinda snorted. "What did I tell you? She is absolutely opposed to any effort to help her daughter."

"You have something to say about me, I'd appreciate it if you'd say it to my face. Don't talk about me as if I'm invisible."

"Victoria--"

"Well, if you insist," Belinda interrupted. "Mrs. Scott, with all due respect, you and your nanny have lost control of the children entirely. They're spoiled rotten, they have no sense of common courtesy, and the younger boy in particular could use a good whipping!"

Victoria gasped.

William: "We're getting off the subject here. What does this have to do with Cecilia?"

"I'll tell you what," Victoria snapped. "She's doing this out of spite. She hates the children, that's why she burned Josephine and Richard's toys."

"That's absurd," William dismissed her.

"I've known Belinda for years," Dr. Wells chimed in anxiously. "She a fine nurse. She only wants what's best for Cecilia."

"At the cost of her relationship with her family," Victoria argued.

"Her family is making her ill!"

"That's it!" Bill was throwing open the study door before Rose could stop him. "Don't you dare speak to my mother that way!" he threatened Belinda.

The nurse, visibly shaken, turned to face Rose, who hovered sheepishly in the doorway. "This is what I'm talking about," she muttered.

"William, this is none of your concern," his father warned.

"It isn't? She wants to put my sister in an institution!"

"Mama, is it true?" came a whimper from behind Rose. Josephine, Richard and Lucy had come downstairs to see what the ruckus was about.

"Cecilia is very ill," Belinda said, weakly. She'd come to realize she was fighting a losing battle. "And none of you are helping her."

"Well, you're the one who took her outside in the cold," Richard accused.

"What are you talking about?" his father asked.

"She took her outside to keep her away from Josie's germs."

Victoria sighed. Without looking at Belinda, she simply said, "You're fired."

It was Belinda's turn to be shocked. She looked at Dr. Wells, then William. "You're making a terrible mistake."

"Don't talk to him. He's not the one who fired you," Bill said gleefully.

"William!" His father faced Belinda, regret evident in his demeanor. "We appreciate all you've done for Cecilia. You'll receive a generous severance and a favorable recommendation."

"B-but--" she sputtered, her face reddening.

"I'm sorry. But I'd prefer not to have any more strife in this family, and that means we're at odds. Rose will help you pack and I'll have Randolph drive you home. Doctor." With a curt nod to Dr. Wells, William left the room.

Belinda's chin quivered, but she faced them all stoically. The doctor mumbled a quick goodnight, and made a hasty exit. Rose excused herself and was startled to find Cecilia crouched at the top of the staircase.

"Did she go yet?" she whispered.

"Cecilia! What are you doing, listening in on grownups?"

"He said she was going away, and you're gonna take care of me."

"Who said that?"

"He has hair like Mama's," Cecilia confided, as if that solved the puzzle.

So Cecilia, in her loneliness, had invented an imaginary playmate. Maybe now she'd be allowed to have real ones, Rose mused.

*****

It was refreshing to see the change in Cecilia--or was the bubbly little imp there all along? Two weeks after Christmas, and she was chasing Skipper around the house barefoot, eyes and cheeks aglow. This was not a sickly child. But her father was convinced she required a new nurse, and commenced a search immediately.

"How can you listen to Dr. Wells after he tried to take Cecilia away from us?" Victoria asked him one day.

"Be reasonable for once, Victoria. Rose can't handle the added workload, what with Bridie about to take leave again," William countered. "Doc Wells may have suffered a momentary lapse in judgment, but I must agree with his assessment that Cecilia needs a full-time nursemaid."

The two continued to argue the matter, until one Saturday late in January, when Bill made a rare appearance. Gathering everyone, servants included, in the parlor, he announced that he'd found Belinda's replacement.

He went to the front door and returned with a black woman in her early thirties, wearing a starched white uniform. A teenage girl and a boy of about ten followed shyly.

"This is Marie Griffiths," Bill introduced her.

"How is everybody this morning?" the nurse greeted them pleasantly.

Chapter Forty-One
Stories