Chapter Eight
“I have something I must tell you.” Rosalind searched Lady Eleanor’s face as they stood together in the bookshop, practically alone aside from one or two others who were much too far away to overhear their conversation. “But you must promise me that you will not exclaim aloud.”
Lady Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted. “Exclaim aloud? Why should I do such a thing?”
“Because it is rather shocking,” Rosalind whispered, hoping that her friend would lower her voice. “I have been quite overwhelmed by it and I must tell someone.”
At this, Lady Eleanor set aside the book she was holding and instead, turned to face Rosalind directly. Her eyes were a little wider now, searching Rosalind’s face though she did not say anything.
Rosalind took in a long, slow breath, steadying the quaking she felt inside. “The Duke of Strathmore wishes to marry me.”
Lady Eleanor instantly sucked in a breath, her eyes rounding, staring back at Rosalind with shock written into every line of her expression.
Rosalind said nothing.
“I have not said yes to his request,” Rosalind murmured, reaching out to press one of Lady Eleanor’s hands, coldness seeping into her fingers. “I have said only that I will consider it.”
“Consider it? Are you quite in your right mind?” Lady Eleanor suddenly came to life, gripping Rosalind’s hand tightly, with a fierceness that Rosalind had not expected. “You cannot think about marrying that gentleman! From the first moment we were introduced to the Duke of Strathmore, he was nothing but rude and impolite! The questions he asked you were more than improper and even when his friend interjected, he still continued. Why then would you even think about accepting him?”
Rosalind squeezed her friend’s hand. “Because I have no other choice.”
“You do have a choice!” Lady Eleanor exclaimed, only to close her eyes as Rosalind shushed her quietly. “You do have a choice,” she said again, albeit in a much softer voice than before. “You can choose not to wed him! And then you can find someone else, someone much more improved than him.”
“And who would that be?” Rosalind asked, lifting her hands and then letting them fall to her sides. “You know as well as I that I have very little hope of finding a successful match. If I refuse the Duke, then it might well be that my only choice is to marry a gentleman of disrepute – either that or become a spinster. My father will do his best for me, of course, but I can already see that his choices will be limited most severely.” She shook her head and sighed, pressing one hand to her temple for a moment. “Believe me when I say that I have already thought through all of my choices – including the choice to refuse him – and the consequences that will follow them all.” She lowered her gaze, afraid that tears would begin to flow if she continued to look into Lady Eleanor’s sympathetic gaze. “And I must think of Emilia.”
Lady Eleanor let out a long, slow breath. “You are always so considerate, my dear friend.”
“She is my sister,” Rosalind answered, looking back up now. “I know that you would do the same for Laura.”
“I am not sure I would!” came the reply, making Rosalind’s lips lift just a little. “As fond as I am of my sister, I am not certain I am fond enough of her to consider matrimony to such an oaf as the Duke of Strathmore!”
Rosalind laughed softly, relieved that her friend understood.
“All the same, I am still determined to advise you not to accept him.” A seriousness came into Lady Eleanor’s voice again and she took both of Rosalind’s hands in her own, gripping them a little more firmly than Rosalind had expected. A sharp gleam came into her eyes, looking at Rosalind with a sharpness that made her breath catch just a little.
“If you consent to marry him, then I believe that your future will hold nothing but sadness and disappointment,” Lady Eleanor stated, unequivocally. “I do not say this to upset you but rather to make it quite plain to you what I believe your future will hold. The Duke of Strathmore is known to be of a dark disposition, with a heaviness in his heart and mind that cannot be relieved, it seems, by anything. He clearly does not like company, does not want to be in conversation or the like and pushes those away who even attempt to be genial to him!” She closed her eyes, her lips bunching together for just a moment. “Again, I do not say this to hurt you.”
“I know. You are concerned for me, just as I would be for you.”
Lady Eleanor nodded, a glimmer of tears in her eyes now. “I want nothing but happiness for you, as you want for me. I simply do not think that a gentleman who has shut himself away for so many years will be able to bring you an ounce of happiness for your entire life together!”
“Shut himself away?” Rosalind frowned as Lady Eleanor released her hands. “I know that he was not in society for some time but I did not know that he was shut away from it all, as you have just said. Why did he do such a thing? And what brings him back to London now?” Recalling something the Duke had said, she held up one hand. “Wait a moment, I recall now. He is here for the wedding of his cousin.”
“That is quite so.” Lady Eleanor tilted her head. “Are you certain you have not heard of the reasons for the Duke’s silence? For his absence from society?” When Rosalind shook her head no, Lady Eleanor grimaced. “Then I shall tell you, but not here. Come, let us go to Gunter’s for an ice.”
“Of course.” Stepping out, Rosalind glanced to her friend, worry in her throat. “Might I ask how you know of it all?”
Lady Eleanor’s cheeks colored just a little. “Lord Radcliffe has come to call three times this last week and yesterday, we walked together through the park. I was going to tell you at once, of course, but hearing this news from you has quite put it from my mind!”
Rosalind offered her a small smile. “I am very glad for you, if he is worthy of you.”
“I think that he is. He has told me a little more about the Duke of Strathmore, however, though he also seemed surprised I had not heard the story before now.” She shrugged. “It seems society has always been talking of him for the last few years, though I did say that we were not inclined towards listening to gossip and that might well be why we have not heard.”
“I certainly have heard nothing of him before now.” Walking into Gunter’s, Rosalind and Lady Eleanor each took a seat by a small table in the corner, their orders given to one of the waiting staff who soon returned with two ices in two glasses. Rosalind said nothing more about the Duke of Strathmore for some minutes as both she and Lady Eleanor enjoyed their ices – with Rosalind having requested chocolate and Lady Eleanor, lemon.
Eventually, Lady Eleanor set down her spoon, smiled and sighed contentedly. “That was quite lovely, I must say. And a good fortification for what I must now tell you!”
Rosalind, who was still eating, merely nodded, hoping that her friend would continue. Lowering her voice – for Gunter’s was one of the most fashionable places to be at present and was now full of members of society – Lady Eleanor obliged.
“Some years ago, the Duke of Strathmore was betrothed,” Lady Eleanor began, making Rosalind’s eyebrows lift high in surprise. “He was to be married to a lady by the name of Pearl and, it was said, he cared for her very much. She was beautiful, engaging and charming, by all accounts, but mayhap a little tenacious with it, though the Duke of Strathmore did not seem to think this a poor quality in her character. ”
Rosalind scowled. “Would that he felt the same now!”
“He does not like that you are determined, that you are to decide on matters for yourself, I know,” Lady Eleanor continued, clicking her tongue in obvious disapproval, “but I believe there is reason for that. The reason being, his previous betrothal.”
“Oh?”
Lady Eleanor took in a breath, then leaned even closer across the table, her voice very quiet indeed. “Lady Pearl died, Rosalind.”
Rosalind’s heart turned over in her chest, her eyes wide.
“ Before they were wed,” Lady Eleanor continued, quickly. “The Duke’s estate is not far from London and he was determined to ride back to his house from town. Lord Radcliffe told me that Lady Pearl was also determined to join him, though the Duke was reluctant to permit her. The betrothal was arranged between the Duke and Lady Pearl’s brother, you understand, and it seemed to Lord Radcliffe that the Duke was delighted by her interest in riding with him. Out of the two of them, Lady Pearl was not as eager to wed as the Duke so mayhap that interest was the reason for his agreement for, in the end, she did join him and together, the two were riding back to his estate.” There came a slight catch into Lady Eleanor’s voice. “Something happened. I do not know what precisely, for Lord Radcliffe would not tell me all, but Lady Pearl met a most unfortunate demise – and the Duke of Strathmore blamed himself for it.”
“Goodness,” Rosalind breathed, one hand pressed lightly to her stomach. “How utterly dreadful.”
Lady Eleanor nodded, sitting back a little in her chair, her face filled with sorrow. “Lord Radcliffe was most persistent in his point that the Duke of Strathmore was not to blame for what happened, but that because the Duke himself was insistent upon taking on the guilt, he then shut himself away from all good company for the last few years. He has become increasingly morose and disillusioned, Lord Radcliffe states, though he himself has tried a good many times to pull him from the darkness with, he surrounds himself.”
“And with very little success, I might surmise?”
With a nod, Lady Eleanor let out a small sigh. “It is a reason for his manner, indeed, but it is not an excuse. Though I am glad that I have been able to inform you about this for it is important, I think, that you understand the situation he has come from – and the guilt he continues to bear.”
Rosalind swallowed against a sudden, forceful ache in her throat. “I am very grateful to you for telling me, Eleanor. It is not something he would have spoken of himself, I am quite sure! ”
Lady Eleanor smiled sadly. “I am afraid you are quite correct in your thinking there, Rosalind.”
“I will have to speak of it with him.”
Her friend’s eyes rounded. “You would ask him about all I have told you?”
“I would.” Rosalind lifted her shoulders and then let them fall. “If he wishes to marry me, if he wishes for me to be his bride, then I cannot see why we would keep any secrets from one another. If this is something that weighs upon him heavily, something that would linger upon his shoulders even if we were to wed, then I should like to know of it. I will not say that you have told me of it, of course, for I do not want him to think poorly of you. Rather, I will simply speak of it as though I have known from the gossip of the ton that there was this most difficult circumstance in his past.”
“I can see why you would wish to speak with him about it but I would advise caution,” Lady Eleanor answered, rising from her chair. “Excuse me for a moment, would you? I must go to the private parlor.”
Rosalind nodded and then continued on with her ice, her mind filled with a good many thoughts as regarded the Duke of Strathmore. Surely, he was rude and irritating and utterly impolite but now, having heard the pains of what he had endured, Rosalind’s heart held a fresh sympathy for him. Lady Eleanor was correct in stating that such a tragedy could not be used as an excuse for his behavior towards her but it certainly did help her to understand him a little better.
“Might I be so bold as to sit with you, Lady Rosalind?”
Starting in surprise, Rosalind looked into the face of a gentleman she did not recognize, searching his face for any hint of distinguishing marks by which she might remember their introduction.
“The Earl of Westlake.” He inclined his head, his light brown hair falling over his forehead and nearly into his eyes, though he smoothed it back to one side just as quickly. “We were introduced last Season, Lady Rosalind, though I will not hold it against you if you have forgotten me. There were so many introductions last Season and I did not linger in London for long.”
Try as she might, Rosalind could not recall the gentleman’s face but nevertheless, she smiled, nodded and then gestured for him to be seated. “But of course. Lady Eleanor will return in a moment but until she does, you are most welcome to join me.”
“I thank you.” Lord Westlake sat down quickly, as though eager to have as much time in her company as possible before Lady Eleanor returned. “It is very good to see you again, Lady Rosalind. I do hope that society has been treating you well these last few days?”
At this, Rosalind immediately frowned, wondering if he was referring to her brother and the difficulties that his foolishness had brought her.
“I know that there have been some whispers as regards… certain things,” Lord Westlake continued, answering her question before she had even spoken it. “I should not like to join in those whispers, however. I assure you that is not the purpose of my coming to speak with you.”
“Then what is?” Feeling a little uneasy, Rosalind lifted her chin just a little.
“Well, truth be told, I did notice a small interaction between the Duke of Strathmore and yourself recently,” the gentleman replied as a shivering shock rippled over Rosalind’s skin. “As I have said, I have no interest in sharing what I witnessed with anyone, I only sought to make certain that you garnered no lasting injury from that encounter.”
“Oh.” Rosalind breathed a little more easily now, hearing his explanation. “That is very considerate of you, Lord Westlake. I am quite well, I thank you.”
He smiled and a light came into his brown eyes. “But of course.” His smile began to fade away. “It was the most disgraceful behaviour I have ever seen from a gentleman, I must say. I was almost about to say something when I saw that another gentleman chose to lead yourself and another away.”
“That was Lord Radcliffe and Lady Eleanor,” Rosalind told him, a good deal more at ease now. “It was a difficult conversation, certainly, but one that was brought to an end rather swiftly.”
“That is good.”
“And you are very kind to make certain I am faring well,” Rosalind continued, hoping that what Lord Westlake said as regarded not whispering rumors to any of the ton was true. “I thank you.” She smiled only to see Lady Eleanor approaching, a look of surprise on her face. “Lord Westlake, might I introduce my friend, Lady Eleanor? Eleanor, this is the Earl of Westlake.”
There was no immediate smile on Lady Eleanor’s face, which surprised Rosalind. “Good afternoon, Lord Westlake,” she answered, a little coolly. “I believe that you are sitting in my seat.”
Lord Westlake immediately jumped up, apologizing profusely. Lady Eleanor took her seat quickly, her light smile still pinned to her face though there was no true light in her eyes as though she did not want Lord Westlake’s company .
“I shall depart now and permit you to carry on your conversation without my interrupting presence,” Lord Westlake said, a smile on his face as he inclined his head. “Thank you for tolerating me, Lady Rosalind. Good afternoon, Lady Eleanor.”
“Good afternoon.” Rosalind smiled and then watched as he took his leave. It was only when he quit Gunter’s entirely that she turned to her friend, a frown pulling into her expression. “Whatever is the matter? You did not seem to like Lord Westlake in the least!”
Lady Eleanor sniffed. “That is because I do not.”
“Why is that?”
Her friend closed her eyes briefly and then shook her head. “Lord Westlake is not known as a gentle, considerate fellow, Rosalind. He is harsh and demanding, though I am sure that he did not appear to be so with you now!”
Rather surprised at this, Rosalind shook her head. “No, he did not. I thought him genial and considerate. He came to inform me that he had seen me speaking with the Duke of Strathmore and, having overheard the conversation, wanted then to make certain I was quite well.”
“Hmph.” Lady Eleanor dismissed this with a single sound. “Be cautious when it comes to Lord Westlake, Rosalind. He is not a gentleman to be trusted despite his appearances. I say this because of what I know of him and of what I have seen. He greatly injured Lady Sarah some years ago, the ton was utterly shocked by it! My elder sister, Ophelia, was making her come out at the very same time and told me all about it.”
Rosalind’s shoulders rounded just a little, feeling her hopes spiral into nothingness within her. He had appeared to be a very kind, thoughtful gentleman and, she supposed, part of her had imagined that, in speaking to her as he did, he was showing that not all gentlemen in London would ignore her or turn away from her. In those few moments, a fresh hope had ignited, but now Rosalind blew it out again so it was nothing but smoke and ashes.
“I will be a good deal more careful; I assure you.” She gestured to their two empty glasses. “Another, mayhap? We might think about speaking of something a little more cheerful too, for else I fear that my spirits will sink lower than they have ever done before!”
Her friend reached across the table and squeezed Rosalind’s hand. “But of course. We can speak about whatever you wish and say nothing about any of the gentlemen who might otherwise upset us!”
Nodding, Rosalind caught the attention of one of the waiting staff and tried to smile, pushing aside all thoughts of Lord Westlake and the Duke. If she did not, she feared she might drop into deep despondency and thereafter, never find a single iota of happiness again.