Author's Note: Less than a week! :) Many thanks to all who have read, favorited, followed, or reviewed. You all are the best!
It was a very joyful time in the Tyler residence, and many who only weeks before had declared them to be ruined and beyond hope now looked with astonishment upon their rather sudden change in fortune.
Rose smiled in contentment as she took in the domestic scene before her. Jack and Donna lounged on the settee, adorably engaged in their own private tete-a-tete. Joan was writing yet another letter to a soldier named Oliver Redfern, whose secret correspondence Lynda had discovered (and outed) a few days prior. And Lynda and Jackie were trading gossip as they sewed, although Jackie's gaze often fell upon the oblivious couple across the room.
Rose's sketchbook lay across her lap, this particular drawing of a fantastical place covered entirely in ice. Though she did not possess any great talent, she enjoyed drawing, giving life to places she'd only read or dreamed about. It was only ever landscapes - or dreamscapes in this case - never people, and animals only on occasion. So it had surprised and discomfited her somewhat when, in the past month or so, she had looked down at her absent-minded doodling to find a pair of very familiar eyes staring back at her. It shocked her, the amount of detail there - the freckles across his nose and cheeks, the laugh lines at his eyes, the tousled hair. But it was the look in his eyes that did her in; she dreamed of that look. She dreamed of him, her thoughts often drifting to him, to those magical moments at Gallifrey, when she least expected it. Scolding her subconscious, she had hastily removed the offending pages and hidden them away.
The noise of a carriage approaching surprised them all, as it was rather early in the morning for anyone to visit. Five pairs of inquisitive eyes glanced towards the front window, which provided a quick glimpse of a fine chaise and four pulling into the drive.
Though none of them could guess who this mysterious guest was, Mr. Harkness, seeing a final moment of escape, seized upon it. "I have sat too long; a nice stroll would be just the thing. Miss Tyler, would you be so kind as to accompany me?" he importuned, standing and offering his arm gallantly.
Donna arched an eyebrow in amusement, but happily took his arm. "I suppose I could."
They made their exit none too soon. The remaining ladies sat up, straightening their dresses and hair in preparation for their unknown visitor. Abruptly and without ceremony, the door swung open to reveal Lady Yvonne Hartman, who strode imperiously into the room.
Overcoming her initial astonishment, Rose composed herself enough to make a small curtsey. "Lady Yvonne Hartman," she announced, curiosity evident in her tone.
The lady acknowledged her introduction with an almost imperceptible nod before brusquely taking a seat. She looks even more disagreeable than usual, Rose thought, though I wouldn't have believed it possible. Her mother and sisters appeared to be too in awe (and perhaps afraid) to speak.
"Miss Tyler," Lady Yvonne said, finally breaking her disdainful silence. "Am I right in assuming this lady is your mother?"
"Yes, ma'am," Rose replied politely.
"And these are your sisters…?"
Jackie Tyler, finally having recovered enough to speak, answered this time. "This is Lynda, my second youngest, and the one at the desk is Joan, my middle child. My youngest, Lucy, is recently married, and my eldest is out and about, enjoying a walk with her betrothed," she said, smiling bravely in the face of this noblewoman's ungracious manner.
"Your grounds seem rather small," Lady Yvonne observed off-handedly, as though she were commenting on the weather rather than belittling their family estate. "And I daresay this room must be awful on summer evenings, what with the sun beating in through these windows. Most ill-advised, if you ask me."
Rose winced internally at this tactless blow to her mother's pride, waiting, with an odd mixture of anxiety and anticipation, for her mum to let loose her fury on Lady Yvonne. To her surprise, the expected outburst did not come, although Rose witnessed the way her mother's chin tilted upwards defiantly, her eyes narrowing. "I'm sure our estate does seem small compared to Rosings, my lady," Jackie averred with admirable grace, "but it is widely acknowledged to be one of the finest in the area. And we never sit in this room after dinner."
Underneath her admiration at Jackie's equanimity, Rose's mind struggled with the strange picture before her - the mystery of this cold, influential woman sitting in her home, yet so glaringly displeased to be doing so. Why was she here? As if she had read Rose's mind, her mother inquired, "If I may ask, were Mr. And Mrs. Collins well when last you saw them?" Her mother had reached the same conclusion she had. It really seemed the only link between them; perhaps she had been passing through the area, and had been entrusted with a letter for Rose?
"They were. I dined with them last week." Nothing more.
Showing herself to be blessed with better manners than her guest, Jackie once more breached the awkward silence. "Would you like some refreshment, Lady Yvonne?"
"No, I think not," her ladyship replied curtly. Abruptly she stood, spearing Rose with her sharp gaze. "Miss Tyler, I believe I saw a rather pretty little walk to one side of your house as we drove in. I would rather like to explore it, if you would walk with me."
For an instant Rose's eyes met her mother's, which burned with a banked fire that mirrored her own. Jackie nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. "Of course, ma'am," she replied courteously. She would make every effort to conduct herself properly, to rise above the grating condescension of this domineering woman, but if she pushed too hard… Well, Lady Yvonne would then learn that even Tyler women had their limits.
Rose allowed her guest to lead them out of the house, noting that her carriage remained stationed out front. Not a long visit, then, she reflected with relief. Motioning to the gardens on their left, Rose could not help but wonder again what cause had compelled Lady Yvonne to travel so far, in spite of her obvious reluctance. Disdain and hauteur were written across her every feature, reminding Rose of a similar expression she'd witnessed upon Mr. Smith at their first meeting. The picture faded almost immediately, however, supplanted by memories of his laughter, his concern, his ramblings, and his smile. Her favorite smile was one she'd only ever witnessed when he was looking at her, his expressive eyes full of emotions she couldn't quite name, and didn't dare to, especially now. That was the real John; she knew and accepted it without question. And he was nothing like his aunt.
His aunt who, now that they'd reached a somewhat secluded spot, rounded on a startled Rose, her expression almost venomous. "Let us not mince words, Miss Tyler. You know why I am here," she declared, her voice frosty with contempt.
Eyes wide with genuine bewilderment, Rose shook her head. "Truly, madam, I do not. Your presence here comes as a great surprise."
Lady Yvonne's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You should know that I am not someone to be crossed lightly. You may pretend at innocence, but I know better. I am known by all as a woman who speaks her mind, so let us cut to the heart of it. Two days ago I heard, though I knew immediately it was too preposterous to be true, that not only was your sister soon to be most advantageously matched, but that you, that Miss Rose Tyler, were soon after expected to form a similar union with my nephew, Mr. Smith. I know it is a lie; I think too highly of him even to consider it. However, I knew that action had to be taken, and so came here immediately so there would be not doubt of my opinion on the matter."
Rose felt her temper rising, her cheeks growing hot with both incredulity and anger. "If you thought it so blatantly untrue, why did your ladyship bother coming here at all?"
"Merely to have it confirmed that there is not an inkling of truth to this audacious claim."
"If such a rumor exists, won't your coming here rather appear to support it?" Rose asked, grateful that her steady tone didn't betray the turbulent emotions raging within her.
"If? As if you haven't heard! As if you hadn't started these rumors yourself!" she accused harshly. Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she continued more calmly, "You have truly never heard it?"
"No."
"And you can avow that there is no basis for such a claim?"
Rose met her challenging gaze unflinchingly. "I do not hold myself to the same frankness of which your ladyship boasts. Though of course you may ask, I may choose not to answer."
Disbelief clouded Lady Yvonne's face. "Such stubbornness! I am losing my patience, Miss Tyler. Has my nephew asked for your hand?"
"You say it is impossible," Rose volleyed back.
"It should be! He is a reasonable man. But you," she said, casting a scornful look over Rose that made her blood boil, "perhaps you have seduced him with your charms, with your coy flirtations and cheeky impertinence, making him forget his duty to his family and society."
Rose felt an odd impulse to laugh at this portrayal, but instead answered, with a bit of the afore-mentioned cheek, "Do you think I would admit to it, if I had?"
"Miss Tyler, do you know who I am? I have worked hard both to secure and maintain my place in society, and I will not have it threatened by some upstart child! He is my kin, and I am entitled to know his affairs!"
"But you have no claim to mine," Rose retorted vehemently, "nor would your behavior persuade me to confide them."
"Let me be frank. You can not marry Mr. Smith. He is already engaged to my daughter."
"Then surely there should be no danger of his asking me."
Lady Yvonne paused a moment, as if pondering her reply. "It is a unique engagement. Ever since birth, they have been intended for each other; it was his mother's fondest wish, as well as mine. To see our dreams dashed by a common girl with not standing, no connections, no class…? Even you must have some sense of propriety, some regard for the wishes of his family and friends. He is not meant for you!"
There was fire in her eyes as Rose replied. "So you've said. As far as I can tell, though, that was your wish. If the two people most affected do not wish it, why should I? If Mr. Smith himself does not feel bound to his cousin, is he not free to choose another? Why should I not accept?"
"Out of plain decency, girl! Whatever moves you… respect, honor, propriety, self-interest even! For rest assured, Miss Tyler, that if you go against all our wishes in this, you will be a pariah amongst us. You will be despised and ignored by everyone; your name will never even cross our lips," she declared spitefully.
"An unhappy burden, I'm sure," Rose replied lightly, "but I daresay the wife of Mr. Smith will, by nature of her new position, have too many sources of delight and happiness to feel it too keenly."
"Foolish, stubborn girl! This is how I'm repaid for my kindness to you last spring!" she railed contemptuously. "It makes no difference. I came here with a mission, and I will not be thwarted. Although I am not used to meeting with such impertinent, uncooperative behavior, I never fall short of my intentions."
"I'm afraid, then, that this will prove a most disappointing venture for you, my lady, but it makes no difference to me."
Lady Yvonne raised one sculpted eyebrow. "Silence, if you please, Miss Tyler. I will speak my piece. My daughter and my nephew were destined for each other. They share a noble heritage, and both families are greatly respected and of good fortune, none of which you can pretend to possess. And yet you would separate them? If you were wise, you would learn to be content with the sphere into which you were born."
"The sphere into which…" Rose muttered under her breath. "Is it wrong for me to want more? Not wealth or power or any of that rubbish, but the freedom to choose my own path, to see more than this little corner of England, to love and marry when and whom I choose? Surely you can understand that, at least a little?"
When Lady Yvonne's face remained impassive, she continued, "Perhaps not. But, all that aside, our 'spheres,' as you say, are not so different. He is a gentleman, as is my father."
"Yes, but what of your mother's family? I am not ignorant of your connections," she remarked in a cutting manner.
"Whatever they are, if your nephew does not mind them, why should you?"
"Enough of this. Are you, or are you not, engaged to my nephew?"
Rose paused. While she was completely unmoved by Lady Yvonne's demands, she found herself answering honestly, "I am not."
Lady Yvonne smiled in relief, her tense posture relaxing slightly. "And will you promise never to do so?"
Rose considered the woman before her in amazement. Were there no boundaries she would not cross? "No. I make no such promise."
At her reply, Lady Yvonne stiffened, glaring down at Rose. "I am shocked, Miss Tyler. I had thought you much more sensible than this. Regardless, I shall not leave until I have your word."
"In that case you might be staying awhile, for I will not give it," Rose replied firmly. "I am not one to be easily bullied, especially when your logic is far from sound. Would my refusing Mr. Smith make him any more likely to marry your daughter? If he truly cared for me, do you think he would so easily shift his regard to another? And I think it would benefit your ladyship to speak with Miss Hartman, as I sincerely doubt you even know your own daughter's feelings on the matter; they might surprise you." A small smile crossed her lips as she thought of Isobel and Robert's affection, causing her guest's eyes to widen with interest and alarm.
"I must admit, Lady Yvonne, that I do not see the sense in your coming here today, especially if you thought to persuade me in such a manner. I cannot guess how much your nephew appreciates your interference in his affairs, but I assure you that mine are of no concern to you. Please let us be done; there is no more to be said." And so concluding, she made to return to the house.
"I am not done, Miss Tyler. There remains another matter - that of your youngest sister's disgraceful elopement. Oh, I know all the sordid details. Quite the elaborate cover-up your father and uncle pulled together, convincing that useless young man to do the honorable thing and marry her, at their expense." Even as Rose's jaw tightened in anger, part of her triumphed in the fact that Lady Yvonne knew only part of the story. Unconcerned by Rose's response, the lady continued, "Should my nephew call such a girl his sister? Call her husband, whose father had been his own father's steward, his brother? Would you have the noble estate of Gallifrey thus defiled? I shudder to even consider it!"
Rose fumed silently, her warm brown eyes ablaze, her fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. "Surely that is all. You have outdone yourself, insulted me in every possible way," she answered hotly. "I must return to the house."
So saying Rose turned, walking swiftly toward the manor. After a slight pause Lady Yvonne appeared at her side, radiating displeasure. "You care nothing about my nephew's good name, then? His reputation? Are you so selfish, so heartless, that you would drag him down into disgrace as well?"
The truth behind her barbed words did not miss its mark, for was it not almost exactly what Rose had been thinking? Yet this reasoning, by which she had understood and even sympathized with Mr. Smith's renewed detachment, from Lady Yvonne's spiteful lips was unbearable. "I have told you how I feel, madam. I have nothing more to say."
"So you are determined to have him?"
"I never said that. But I will make my own choices based on what I believe will make me happy, without any thought of you or anyone else so wholly uninvolved in my life."
"Very well," Lady Yvonne replied coldly. "You refuse to heed me, turning your back on honor and duty. You don't care that his friends will abandon him, and the world condemn him."
"Honor and duty to whom, my lady? To what? They have no bearing upon a union between Mr. Smith and myself. If his family and friends did choose to resent our marriage, I would not let it trouble me. And I believe, on the whole, that the world would be more sensible than to join in."
"You disappoint me, Miss Tyler; I had hoped you would see reason. But no matter. I will do what must be done. Do not expect," she added, her eyes glinting malevolently, "that you will succeed in this pursuit. I came to test you, but with or without you, I will have my way."
Rose raised her eyebrows at that but said nothing, as they had at last gained the drive. She would be beyond glad to see the back of this hateful woman. Unable to resist hurling one more slight, Lady Yvonne announced, "I will not wish you well, Miss Tyler, nor send any regards to your mother. You don't deserve such courtesy. I am most put out."
Rose made no attempt to persuade her to stay, turning to enter the house without another word. She wanted nothing more than to secret herself away somewhere for awhile and mull things over. Her heart still smarted from the cruel words spoken, and she wondered at the unexpected rumor that had caused all of this upheaval. It was impossible, of course, but speaking of it as she had had renewed and intensified what she had been trying so hard to quell, that painful yearning for what she had lost.
Perhaps eventually she might find solace in Donna's comforting arms, but right now she just wanted to be alone. But of course her mother met her at the foot of the stairs, face alight with wary curiosity that quickly shifted to concern. "What did she want, then?" When Rose remained silent, Jackie continued, "Are you alright, love? Do ya want to talk about it?"
"Not now, Mum. Maybe later."
Jackie eyed her worriedly a moment before pulling her close for a quick, loving embrace. "Alright," she conceded, stepping back again. As Rose turned to go, she added, "You're far more of a lady than she'll ever be, Rose. Don't let her make you feel any less."
"Thanks, Mum. I won't," Rose said with a half-hearted grin.
Jackie gave her a proud smile in return. "That's my girl."
