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"Rosamund? Oh dear. It is true that bad news comes as unexpectedly as rain." The Dowager Countess, Violet Crawley, scrutinized from across the table as Rosamund stepped into the parlor. Rosamund stopped just inside the doorway and removed her gloves.

"Can't a daughter visit her favorite mama without bringing bad news?"

Violet inclined her head and then glanced across the table. Rosamund recognized Cora as the partner of her mama's afternoon tea.

"In your case, no. Now, come tell us," Violet ordered. Rosamund sighed, placed her gloves on the arm of the sofa and crossed the room. She kissed her mama's cheek and then turned to Cora.

"How is poor, dear Mary?"

The dark clouds in Cora's eyes told Rosamund the answer before any words were spoken.

"About as you might expect, I'm afraid."

Rosamund's sister-in-law seemed to physically shrink in the chair. Rosamund rarely showed her sympathy through physical touch, but Cora's entire countenance expressed such extreme sadness that Rosamund placed her hand on Cora's shoulder. The death of Matthew Crawley had shaken the family to its core, and much too soon after the death of Sybil.

"It was a horrible shock for all of us. It still is." Rosamund removed her hand and Cora weakly nodded.

"Sit down, Rosamund, so I can better surmise the ulterior motive for you visit," Violet ordered.

"Mama," Rosamund sighed. She hated that she obeyed like a trained zoo animal.

Rosamund sat in the extra chair between the two women. Cora's eyes were red, and Rosamund imagined Cora had come to mama's for a much needed break from the sadness that seemed to hover over Downton these days. Violet, on the other hand, looked elegant in her black morning dress and custom tailored jewelry. Much like a solid rock in the midst of a tempestuous sea.

"You didn't drive all the way up from London unannounced just to take tea with us," Violet stated.

"I don't want to bore Cora with news from London."

Rosamund never really related to her sister-in-law, or made an effort to, and she could not help feeling disappointed that she would not have the chance to speak to mama alone. The more she thought about her decision to visit, the more she thought the plan to ask for advice ill conceived. She leaned forward in the chair and glanced at the door.

"Actually, news from London would be welcome. Anything to distract," Cora admitted as she poured tea into Rosamund's cup.

"There, you see. Now, out with it, Rosamund." Violet looked down her nose and Rosamund felt a chill of terror tremble through her frame. Her mother's knowing eye always had that effect.

"I'm ruined," Rosamund blurted. "Financially."

Cora stopped pouring and set the tea pot down. Her tear wearied eyes stared blankly. Violet spoke glibly after her slightly askew mouth closed.

"Impossible."

"Mama, do you remember Mr. Abel Blacklock?"

Violet broke eye contact and her mouth turned down.

"That odd little man with the funny eyes. Beady things, always quite unnerved me."

"Yes, well," Rosamund shook her head, "He proposed and-"

Violet interrupted with an outburst of laughter. Rosamund ignored her.

"I'm afraid I was not delicate in my refusal."

"Naturally." Violet proudly lifted her chin and Rosamund's spirits felt slightly invigorated.

"I've been very stupid, mama. In essence he has locked up the money. I am in danger of losing Eaton Square, and the staff."

"Nonsense." Violet dismissively reached for her tea cup.

"Surely something can be done," Cora said. The glance she exchanged with Violet seemed to make light of Rosamund's situation. Rosamund jutted her lower jaw forward and determined to continue even in the midst of such skeptics.

"I've spoken to George Murray, and several other solicitors. I have even called on some of the bank board members, but it seems Mr. Blacklock is extremely clever." Rosamund looked between the two women, but both their expressions remained untroubled.

Cora extended her hand toward Rosamund, and let her palm lay flat over the white lace table cloth.

"You know you are always welcome at Downton, for as long as you want."

The delicate smile she offered touched Rosamund enough to cause her to turn away.

"Thank you."

"I can tell by that superior look, Rosamund, you are planning something drastic. You are not considering the proposal of that beady eyed proletarian?" Violet stared at Rosamund with a disapproving half frown.

"Please, mama! What do you take me for," Rosamund spat.

Violet lifted her eyebrows but Rosamund refused to let the questioning expression get the better of her.

"I would die before I'd let that revolting little man ruin Marmaduke's legacy or take the house."

Rosamund straightened her shoulders.

"A fate worse than death? Good heavens, then you are planning something drastic," Violet said, and looked at Cora.

Rosamund lifted the white tea cup to her lips and took a long slow sip. She placed the porcelain delicately back on the table and did not look at her mama.

"Have you ever heard of a Mr. Drake Wolfe?"

Cora and Violet exchanged glances.

"Sounds like a character from a Hugh Lofting novel," Violet remarked.

Rosamund ignored her and turned to Cora.

"He is an American. He came here on business. Something about automobile production."

Cora sighed through her nose and regarded Rosamund with a smirk.

"Just because I once lived there doesn't mean I'm acquainted with every American who visits."

"Anyway," Rosamund pressed on before she felt her resolve slip away, "Mr. Wolfe believes he can undo this trouble with the bank."

"And what is the catch?" Violet questioned.

Rosamund looked at her mama, and placed her hands neatly in her lap.

"Why do you assume there is a catch?"

"Oh my dear, in these situations there is always a catch."

Violet turned to Cora who nodded in agreement.

"He asked me to marry him," Rosamund reluctantly announced.

Cora's mouth dropped and Violet's eyes widened. Rosamund avoided seeing either of them by sending her gaze down into her white tea cup.

"He needs a reference to earn the trust of his business partners, and he wants me to champion his young daughter."

Violet and Cora remained silent so long, Rosamund finally forced herself to look up, just to confirm they had not disappeared. Silence was a trait so rare in her mama that Rosamund found herself speaking in order to fill the strange void.

"It would, of course, be a business arrangement. A marriage in name only. He wants-"

Before Rosamund could continue Cora finally said something.

"You can't honestly be considering his offer. How long have you known this man?"

"A few weeks." Rosamund mumbled in to her cup and took another sip of tea.

"And, what if you marry him, and then someone else comes along. A man you truly wish to marry," Cora asked.

Rosamund placed the cup back on the table and regarded her sister-in-law kindly.

"Dear Cora, that is sweet of you, but I have no illusions. I am of a certain age now, and the prospects have all, shall we say, decamped."

Cora looked to Violet, and Rosamund saw them exchange some mysterious glance.

"I wasn't going to tell you this yet, but we received word that the Duke of Ellsmere might be coming. If he stays at Downton..." Cora inclined her head toward Violet as she trailed off.

"You were conspiring to set me up." Rosamund shot a sharp glare at Violet. "That is just like you, mama. Even if I overlooked Lord Quill's pompous, tedious conversation, you know papa was against it."

Violet pursed her lips together, and moved her hands away from her tea cup as if she had just been caught stealing an extra biscuit.

"Why are you so set on playing red riding hood to this American Wolfe person? Is he that handsome?" Violet asked.

"Oh really, mama. You can be impossible," Rosamund hissed.

"He is handsome then." Violet shook her head, not as if she was disappointed, but rather like a wise old owl. "I shouldn't meddle with matters of the heart, Rosamund. It always ends badly."

"This is not a matter of the heart. This is a business partnership that can save Marmaduke's dream."

"Marriage is always a matter of the heart." Violet inclined her chin and looked pointedly at Rosamund. Rosamund met her gaze with a strong willed one of her own.

"I haven't answered him yet. I wanted your advice, although I don't know why. You are always so obstinate, mama."

"If I agreed with you then we would both be wrong." The two of them remained locked in a glare until Cora drew their attention.

"Whatever you decide, Rosamund, please let us know what we can do to help."

"Thank you, sister Cora," Rosamund answered, but did not take her eyes from Violet.

"Prospects decamped? You've had two marriage proposals in so many weeks. I think you should hold out for the Duke. Money matters usually resolve themselves," Violet stated.

Rosamund tossed her napkin on the table and let out a sigh of frustration.

"I have to get back to London."

Rosamund stood and left her mama and Cora sitting around the white lace tablecloth. On her way out she heard her Violet voice.

"Don't worry, Cora, she would never allow herself to be called Lady Wolfe."


Rosamund stood in the hallway between the front door and the drawing room. She nervously twisted her white gloves between her hands, and faced the mirror. After she phoned to accept Mr. Wolfe's offer, her mind was plagued with concern over what to wear for the wedding. For two days she vacillated between several different dresses in her impressive wardrobe. In the end, she decided on a white summer dress, usually reserved for garden parties and cricket matches. Her blue eyes and auburn hair nicely complemented the long white jacket and lacey hat.

"Only fools jump in with both feet," Rosamund muttered to herself in the mirror as she looked over her appearance. She glanced at the clock. Mr. Wolfe would arrive at any moment. No choice remained now but to go through with the ordeal, unless, of course, he backed out. The sudden thought lifted her hopes.

The door chimed and Rosamund retreated into the drawing room in an anxious skip. The last thing she wanted was for Mr. Wolfe to think she was waiting for him. She pretended to be searching for a book on the shelf when the butler came in.

"Lady Edith Crawley," he announced, and Edith appeared from behind him.

"Hello aunt," Edith said as she crossed the room. She kissed Rosamund in greeting but Rosamund only stared stiffly.

"Edith? This is unexpected."

Edith removed her rather plain hat and sat on the sofa.

"I had some business with my publisher and Granny thought it would be nice if I dropped by." Edith rested her hat in her lap.

Rosamund put her hand on her hip and clenched her teeth.

"She sent you to spy on me. How typical."

"No, silly. I just stopped by for tea," Edith replied.

"Mama is a master of operations. She tricked you without your even knowing it."

Edith looked up at Rosamund, and her nose crinkled in puzzlement. Rosamund kept her hand firmly planted on her hip.

"I don't have time for tea now. I have a prior..." Rosamund nearly said engagement, but the word itself was telling. She studied Edith as she thought about the proper way to handle the unexpected arrival.

"Perhaps this is for the best," Rosamund mused to herself. She dropped her hand from her hip. "Edith, would you like to come to my wedding?"

Edith chuckled. Rosamund slowly strolled across the room.

"I'm sorry. I thought you said wedding." Edith continued to smile. Rosamund stopped in the center of the room and turned her head.

"I did."

Rosamund watched as understanding washed over Edith's face. Her niece's eyes dropped to Rosamund's feet, and worked up her entire frame until they stopped at the top of her hat. Nothing like white to confirm the claim.

"But..." Edith began but the doorbell jingle interrupted. Before Rosamund could explain any further the butler appeared.

"Mr. Wolfe is here, My Lady. Shall I show him in?"

"Yes, please."

When the butler vanished Edith moved to the edge of the sofa. She kept her eyes locked on the door until Mr. Wolfe, dressed in tails, appeared. Rosamund inhaled and fought against the small flutter that stirred inside.

"Is this the groom? Wow. I'm impressed." Edith sent Rosamund a sly sidelong glance.

Rosamund lifted her nose, clasped her hands in front of her white dress, and wholly removed her eyes from said groom.

"Mr. Wolfe, may I introduce my niece, Lady Edith Crawley. I hope you don't mind if she joins us."

Mr. Wolfe crossed the room and took Edith's hand, lifted her fingers upward and bowed gracefully.

"It would be an honor."

Edith gasped, and blinked several times. Once her hand had been returned to her, she popped up from the sofa.

"You can't be serious, Aunt," Edith gasped. "What about Granny? What about Papa? You must have a proper wedding. If you don't everyone will be furious."

Rosamund exchanged a glance with Mr. Wolfe, and she found a surprising amount of sympathy in his soft eyes.

"Particular circumstances require we act quickly." Rosamund stepped toward Edith, with the hope that closer proximity might help her delicate explanation take root.

Edith's mouth plummeted.

"Are you pregnant?!"

Rosamund's cheeks burned crimson hot. The comment hurled her way beyond embarrassment and she fell somewhere between shock and utter horror. She dared not even a glance at Mr. Wolfe.

"Absolutely not! Really, Edith!"

"I'm sorry, Aunt, but I can't think of any other reason you would rush a wedding," Edith explained, with her head slightly lowered.

"It's a long story. I will explain later."

Rosamund ignored both visitors and searched for her gloves.

"We should depart if we wish to arrive on time," Mr. Wolfe said.

He offered his elbow, and Rosamund finally looked at him. To her extreme relief, he did not seem out of sorts or concerned over Edith's statement. The last thing Rosamund wanted him to think was that she was the type of woman that would allow herself to fall into such a situation.

She took his elbow, and he smiled warmly. Suddenly, a new fear pounded inside her chest. Maybe it pleased Mr. Wolfe to think of her as a woman of easy virtue. After all, he was friends with that actress.

The two of them nearly reached the front door when Edith made a small humph sound.

"I am not really dressed for a wedding."

Rosamund looked over her shoulder. Edith gripped the sides of her traveling dress, and skewed her head to the side.

"It's fine," Rosamund assured but mustered little enthusiasm. The whole thing began to seem more and more like a farce.

As she turned back around she made eye contact with Mr. Wolfe. The strange expression he wore unnerved her, because she could not pinpoint exactly what he was thinking. A movement of his hand caught her attention and she looked down. He retrieved her gloves from the entry way table and offered them to her. She nodded briskly and then took them from his grasp.

Mr. Wolfe helped both Edith and Rosamund into the car. The trip to the church was spent in uncomfortable silence. The car rolled over the cobblestone street and occasionally the mumble of voices on the sidewalk could be heard over road noise.

Though Rosamund sat next to Mr. Wolfe in the backseat, she carefully ensured no part of her body or clothing touched his body or clothing. The curious, suspecting eyes of Edith roamed over them several times. Rosamund turned her attention out the window to avoid the suspecting gaze. Her niece always had been indecently perceptive.

When the car finally stopped in front of the church, Rosamund was fully absorbed in her own thoughts. Not until Mr. Wolfe lightly touched her arm did she jump to full alert.

"Sorry," he apologized, then gestured toward the front entry.

"Wedding day jitters?" Edith teased.

Rosamund did not grace either of them with a response but quickly moved out of the car. She hurried into the church, eager to avoid an accidental street encounter with any of her London acquaintances.

She started down the aisle, and saw the vicar already at the altar. To the left of the aisle, two figures turned. One of the women Rosamund instantly recognized, and a shutter of ill foreboding ran down her back. Regene Cadenza. The actress. Mr. Wolfe had invited Regene Cadenza to Rosamund's wedding and the brazen hussy dared to show her impermeable face.

Rosamund stopped cold just beyond the pew where the actress stood. She turned with the intent of suggesting to Mr. Wolfe he marry Regene Cadenza instead, but she found his eyes focused on the other woman. Mr. Wolfe's hand touched the small of Roasmund's back and his other hand reached toward the women behind the pew.

The actress stepped into the aisle, but she remained at arm's length. The other woman, a girl really, moved around the wood bench and took his hand.

"Roz, I want you to meet my daughter. Jess, this is Lady Painswick."

Rosamund glared at Mr. Wolfe for the liberty he took with her name, but the situation allowed her no time to rebuke him. Standing there, between father and daughter, caused a spasm of uncomfortable annoyance to itch at the tips of Rosamund's fingers. To suppress the feeling, Rosamund reached out and took the young girl's hand. Jess' shining blond hair, charming dimples, and bright green eyes came together in a very pleasing soft spoken way. By the tremble of the child's fingers, Rosamund discovered the girl must be extremely nervous over the situation.

"I am so excited to met you. You are beautiful as my father said you would be."

The young girl beamed but Rosamund pressed her lips. Her eyes briefly fluttered over the actress, with that perfect hair, painted face and utopian figure.

"I'm nothing compared to Miss Cadenza."

Rosamund acted as if she meant to compliment the actress, and doubted anyone suspected the words stemmed from a combination of vanity and jealousy.

"Regene Cadenza?" Edith interrupted. "The Regene Cadenza?" Edith shook her head and stepped toward the actress with eyes wide. "I absolutely adored you in the West End musical revue last month."

Regene regarded Edith with a warm, sparkle of delight but said nothing.

"Aunt Rosamund, I had no idea you kept company with talented artists."

Rosamund resisted the urge to growl.

"Jess, this is Lady Edith," Mr. Wolfe said to his daughter.

"My niece," Rosamund added, glad for any conversation to draw attention away from the actress.

The two young women greeted, and Edith sent Rosamund a look of surprise so blatant Rosamund was sure her mama saw it all the way from Downton.

Involving Mr. Wolfe's teenage daughter in their sorted scheme descended on Rosamund like brimstone from the sky. She snapped out of her momentary guilt by putting her arm around the teenager's shoulder and leading her toward the waiting vicar.

"Thank you for coming. I hope we can be great friends." Rosamund was sincere, and that surprised her even though no one else seemed to find the statement unusual. The teenager beamed, and looked over her shoulder at her papa. Rosamund stopped, and followed her eyes.

She felt inclined to elbow him in the stomach for so ill preparing her on the subject of his daughter. In the wake of all the chaos, Rosamund was ashamed to admit to herself that she had completely forgotten Mr. Wolfe even had a daughter.

"You, of course, know -" Mr. Wolfe inclined his head toward the actress. Rosamund forced something that only slightly resemble a smile.

"Yes. We've met."

Rosamund glared at Regene, and the actress politely bowed her head.

"If you're ready." The vicar's voice echoed through the church and they all turned to the front of the chapel.

Rosamund dropped her arm from around Jess and saw her own fear reflected in Mr. Wolfe's eyes. His chest lifted as he inhaled.

"Shall we?"

For the smallest of seconds, Rosamund resolved to sprint out of the church and down the street, preferably screaming. Her pride, however, would not let her retreat in front of Edith, in front of Mr. Wolfe, and, most especially, in front of Regene Cadenza. She took Mr. Wolfe's arm and proceeded to the altar.