Chapter Twelve
“Whatever are you doing?”
Having let out a yelp that startled her mother, Rosalind tried to smile as she set down her embroidery. “I am attempting to embroider, Mama, but I confess that my thoughts are elsewhere. I think I have pricked my finger on two occasions now!”
Lady Fairmont smiled gently, concern glimmering in her eyes. “My dear, are you sure you are well? You have had such a great weight placed upon you by your betrothal to the Duke of Strathmore which, I might say, I know full well that you did not truly desire to do.” She lifted one eyebrow as Rosalind let out a slow breath, nodding as she looked away.
“I did it for Emilia’s sake, Mama.”
“That is a good reason, my dear, but you did not have to sacrifice your happiness for her sake,” came the reply, spoken kindly but with clear worry in Lady Fairmont’s voice. “You could have taken your chances elsewhere! I know that your brother has been immensely foolish but there was still a chance for you to have found a connection elsewhere, my dear. It did not have to be him.”
Rosalind closed her eyes, tears burning behind them. “It did have to be him, Mama,” she answered, a little brokenly. “I did not tell you for I did not want you to be angry with the Duke – and nor did I tell my father – but the Duke coerced me into accepting, tying me to him in a way that meant I had no other choice but to accept.” Opening her eyes, she took in her mother’s expression, shock sending white into her cheeks, her mouth a little ajar. “The Duke spoke with me at length in the hallway and I did not realise that we were alone until it was too late. Thereafter, Lord Westlake found us, as well as two other ladies, and the Duke stated that he was having a private conversation with me and did not want to be interrupted!” A tear dropped to her cheek but she dashed it away quickly. “What else was there for me to do but accept him?”
“I… I did not know.” Lady Fairmont closed her eyes tightly, her lips in a thin line. “How dare he? I understand that he has a poor reputation but I did not ever expect him to be as calculating as that!” She leaned forward. “Even now, Rosalind, you do not have to wed him. You can break the betrothal!”
“I cannot, not when it would ruin not only myself but Emilia also.” Feeling something like frustration and upset melding together within her, Rosalind got to her feet. She began to pace up and down the room, her thoughts beginning to swirl through her mind, her sorrow over the Duke’s actions growing into a wild and furious anger. “It was cruel of him to do such a thing.”
“Yes, it was, but what shall you do about it now?” Lady Fairmont spread out her hands. “As I have said, though it may cause difficulty, your father and I will not force you to marry him.”
Rosalind stopped pacing, her fingers curling up into her palms, a sudden desire to be alone burning through her. “Mama, if you do not mind, I think I shall take myself for a short walk-through London. My thoughts are many and they do not settle to give me peace for even a moment!”
“I shall come with you, if you like?”
Rosalind smiled but shook her head. “Thank you, Mama, but I think I need some time alone with my thoughts. I think I shall take a hackney to St James’ Park.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, my dear. I will have the carriage prepared for you. You will not need to hail a hackney.” She held up one hand, silencing Rosalind’s protests. “I understand that you want to hurry from the house and walk alone as quickly as you can but I will insist on coming with you, if you take a hackney.” A smile touched the edges of her mouth as Rosalind sighed. “You are strong willed, my dear, and you know that your father and I trust you completely. That being said, you must take the carriage and the maid with you, so that I know you are quite safe. I do not always trust hackney drivers, as well you know.”
Trying to be grateful for her mother’s understanding, Rosalind nodded and then gestured to the door, the urge to be alone still gnawing at her. “I will go to change, I think.”
“And I shall call the carriage,” Lady Fairmont replied, quietly. “Do be careful, my dear.”
***
Rosalind meandered slowly through St James’ Park. It was not yet the afternoon and thus the park was still rather quiet. The dappled leaves, the birdsong and the clean, crisp air were all balms to her otherwise heavy heart but they did not bring her any true relief. These were passing pleasures whereas the future that was now held out before her was one of darkness and pain.
The Duke of Strathmore had proven that to her when he had manipulated her into accepting his proposal. In the moments afterwards, when the two ladies had exclaimed together and Lord Westlake, clearly lost in surprise, had managed to utter his congratulations, Rosalind had felt a numbness seeping into her soul. She had not known what to do or what to say, hearing the Duke speak to her but finding that she had no real knowledge or understanding as to what it was he said. Her legs had grown weak and she had been forced to take the Duke’s arm, only to then fix a smile to her face as words of congratulations had poured towards her. The Duke had been the one to take a hold of each conversation that had been brought to them for Rosalind had remained silent, struggling to comprehend the shift which had now taken place within her.
Even now, walking through the park in the beautiful sunshine, she still could not fully grasp it.
I am to be the Duchess of Strathmore. That thought brought her no pleasure. Instead, she recoiled from it, wishing she could take the thought from herself and throw it as far as possible so it would not connect itself to her again. But doggedly, that thought clung to her, telling her that her fate was now tied to his, that she had made a promise that she would not be able to escape from. Untying the strings of her bonnet, she held it loosely in her hand, watching the ribbons fly lightly in the breeze.
I am bound to him. I cannot be free again.
Not unless the Duke chose to end their betrothal and she did not think that he would be at all willing to do that. This had been his intention, his plan from the very beginning of their acquaintance and she could not escape him now.
“You there!”
Rosalind blinked in surprise, only for something big, something strong to barrel past her, pushing her back, hard. She did not know what had happened, the world spiraling around her as she stumbled back, only to trip and fall backwards, her feet going from under her. Her head hit something hard, her skin scraping as she collapsed in a heap.
Then everything went dark.
***
“Milady? Milady?”
Pain swam through her as Rosalind tried to open her eyes. The crisp air now seemed to be chilled and cold, making her skin prickle. The voice of her maid came to her still but Rosalind struggled to answer. Her lips felt too bruised, her eyes too heavy to open.
“Whatever shall I do?” The maid’s hand squeezed Rosalind’s and with an effort, Rosalind squeezed it back .
“Oh, you are awake, then? Milady, you must – oh, stop! Please! My lady is hurt and…”
The voice of the maid faded for a moment and Rosalind groaned, her head aching terribly. She again tried to open her eyes and, with an effort, managed to do so. Her vision was blurred, the leaves above her swimming in brown and green rather than standing out clearly. With another groan, Rosalind tried to push herself up, realizing that she had hit her head on a tree and was now lying at the foot of it.
“Careful now, Lady Rosalind.”
The maid had returned and, this time, with another person beside her. Someone that Rosalind did not recognize.
“Mr. Stephens,” the man said, as though he knew what Rosalind was thinking. “Just as well your maid here found me! I was just on my way home. Now, we need to get you back to the carriage and call for the physician to come and look at you. If you don’t mind, I’ll be lifting you up into my arms and getting you back to the carriage.”
“My head.” Rosalind closed her eyes again, trying to lift one hand to the back of her head, her fingers coming away sticky. “What has happened to my head?”
The sound of tearing cloth was all the answer she was given. In another moment, she found herself lifted in Mr. Stephens’ arms… though the pain that came thereafter, with the maid pressing something to the back of her head was so great, Rosalind could not help but cry out.
“I – I am sorry, milady, but there is so much blood that I had to do something.” The maid took Rosalind’s hand in her own, pressing it. “We will get you back to the house soon.”
Rosalind could not say anything, for the pain in her head was too great. Darkness beckoned and, letting her eyes flutter closed, Rosalind gave in to it without hesitation, letting it take all of her pain and confusion away.
***
“Rosalind.”
Rosalind smiled gently as her mother came into her bedchamber. “Mama, you do not need to come to see how I am every half an hour. I am quite all right and, as the physician himself said, I will recover very soon.”
Lady Fairmont swallowed but came to sit beside Rosalind all the same, taking her hand. There were still stains of tears on her cheeks and Rosalind’s heart squeezed with the awareness of just how much her mother loved her .
“I am well,” she said again, as firmly as she could make her words to be. “It is only a small wound and a few scratches to my skin. I will be well recovered within a day or two.”
“Though, you are not to have your hair tied up for some weeks,” Lady Fairmont reminded her, a slightly trembling smile on her lips as she tried to bring a little light to the conversation. “I do hope the Duke will not mind.”
Rosalind snorted. “I hardly think the Duke will even care about my present circumstances, Mama, much less how I shall dress my hair!”
Her mother squeezed her hand, searching her face. “Are you sure you are quite well, Rosalind? You came in so very white and –”
“I am.”
Before she could give any other reassurances, however, the door opened and, to Rosalind’s surprise, her father came into the room. His expression was grave though quite why that would be, Rosalind did not know. He had only just left her and had been filled with evident relief that she was quite all right. Why had he returned?
“Lady Eleanor is here, Rosalind.” He cleared his throat, putting his hands behind his back. “And the Duke of Strathmore.”
Rosalind’s eyebrows lifted though she did not move an inch from where she was sitting up, propped up by pillows for fear that it would cause her head yet more pain. “The Duke?”
“He is pacing up and down the drawing room as we speak, practically demanding that I permit him entry along with Lady Eleanor,” her father continued, sounding just as astonished as Rosalind herself felt. “What say you, my dear? I know you will see Lady Eleanor but what of the Duke?”
Still overcome with astonishment that the Duke had made such an obvious effort to come to her upon evidently hearing of her accident, Rosalind looked to her mother who only smiled briefly, as though to say she could not tell Rosalind what she ought to do.
Rosalind let out a slow breath. “I suppose that I should see him,” she admitted, her stomach twisting with a sudden nervousness. “So long as he is with Lady Eleanor.”
“And Lord Radcliffe is with her, though I think he will stay with your mother rather than intrude upon you,” Lord Fairmont added. “He did want me to express to you his deep concern on hearing you had been injured.”
At this, Rosalind smiled and then nodded, wincing the second she did so. “I will see whoever wishes to come and speak with me,” she answered, as her mother rose. “Lady Eleanor especially, of course.”
“Of course. ”
As her parents departed the room, Rosalind’s heart began to quicken. The Duke had clearly heard about what had happened to her – quite how, she did not know – but evidently, he had thought to rush over to her father’s townhouse to see her. That, Rosalind had to admit to herself, was most surprising. She had never expected the Duke to express any sort of concern in that regard.
“Rosalind!” Lady Eleanor peeked into the room and then, upon seeing Rosalind, rushed towards her, catching Rosalind’s hand. The Duke of Strathmore also came into the room, though he stood at the foot of Rosalind’s bed. “Goodness, whatever happened?”
“I – I do not know,” Rosalind answered, throwing a glance to the Duke but then looking back to Eleanor. “I was out walking in the park when, from what I recall, someone threw me back. It must have been quite unintentional for there was a shout with it, as though this person was being chased by another but, all the same, I do not clearly recall.”
“Goodness.” Lady Eleanor’s eyes were shining with withheld tears. “How unfortunate.”
Rosalind looked again to the Duke who was doing nothing but frowning at her, a heaviness in his expression. “I fell back and hit my head against a tree. The physician has come, and says that there is only a small wound though it has brought a lot of pain with it!”
“Thrown back?”
A little taken aback by the Duke’s gruff tone, Rosalind nodded. “Yes, that is so.”
“And you think it was accidental?”
“I do.”
The Duke’s jaw set. “Were it not, then I would go in search of whoever it was and make certain they understood just how foolish their actions had been.”
Rosalind blinked, looked to Lady Eleanor and saw the very same astonishment in her friend’s face as she felt in her own heart. The Duke was speaking in great defense of her, though she was not quite certain she appreciated the threat he intended to bring. “As I mentioned, I am unsure of what happened; however, I am certain that it was an unfortunate accident. They did not intend for my injury.”
“That is a relief, I am sure. “The Duke of Strathmore sniffed and turned his head away. “How long until you recover completely?”
“A sennight, the physician has said,” Rosalind answered, a little surprised at the dispassionate way in with the Duke had spoken. “I shall soon be standing by your side, just as you expect, Your Grace. ”
He turned to her again, his eyes a little wide. “That is not in the least what I meant, Lady Rosalind.” There was an astonishment in his voice, a clear look of surprise in his eyes which immediately made Rosalind flush. “I want only for your recovery, I assure you.”
“That… that is very kind of you, then.” Feeling a little lost, Rosalind swallowed hard. “I appreciate your concern, both of you. Might I ask how you came to know of my accident, Your Grace?”
He gestured to Lady Eleanor. “News came to Lady Eleanor and, given that we were all attending the same wedding, I heard of it also. Naturally, I wanted to come to make certain you were going to recover. I am sorry that you have experienced pain and trouble due to someone’s thoughtlessness.” The moment those words left his lips, the Duke of Strathmore winced and then dropped his head, perhaps realizing just how much of a fool he was speaking in such a way. After all, it was rather ironic that he expressed such a thing to her when he himself had caused her pain and trouble, albeit in a different way.
“Lord Radcliffe told the Duke and we all came here at once though, Your Grace,” Lady Eleanor continued, looking to him, “are you not in danger of missing the wedding breakfast?”
The Duke blinked, clearly expressing that he had forgotten such a thing but Rosalind was sure she could see concern in his eyes. “I – well, yes, I suppose I am but I did want to make certain that Lady Rosalind was well. That was my only thought.”
Silence wrapped around the room for a few moments as Rosalind stared at the Duke, trying to comprehend what it was he had just said. And, in that one moment, Rosalind realized that she did not understand nor know this man in the least.
He had upset her, confused her, confounded her, manipulated her and turned her world upside down and yet now, here he was, making it appear as though she was of importance to him! She already knew that she could not truly be of any particular interest, for he had practically told her as much in stating that this marriage between them was for the sole requirement of producing the required heir and that she should not expect anything more from him. Why, then, was he now expressing such a thing to her? Why had she been of such importance to him that he had wanted to push aside his cousin’s wedding breakfast and, instead, come to see her?
“I am, as you can see, recovering well,” she answered, speaking to him in a gentle manner, wanting to encourage him to see that all was well so that some of the concern would leave his expression. “It was an accident, that is all. ”
“Mayhap you ought not to have been out walking alone.” A hardness entered his tone and Rosalind blinked in surprise, seeing the way his jaw tightened and wondering at it. “I am sure that someone suggested that you did not do such a thing and –”
“Might I interrupt you, Strathmore?” It was the first time that Rosalind had ever let herself speak to the Duke in such an intimate manner but she had to stop him speaking. What made him believe that he could speak to her in that manner? She did not understand him! One moment, he was expressing concern, leaving a wedding party to come and find her to make sure she was well and then the next moment, speaking to her as though she had done something wrong in bringing about this injury!
The Duke only scowled.
“I have often taken short walks about the grounds or the gardens,” she continued, speaking as loudly as she dared albeit with a slow throb beginning to spread through her head. “I expressed my desire to do so to my mother and she was more than contented for me to do so. I had my maid with me and took the carriage and, quite frankly, I have no interest in listening to your attempt to scold me. I think it would be best if you took your leave, Your Grace.”
Yet another expression altered the Duke’s face. His eyes widened and he blinked furiously, only to then look away and rub one hand over his chin, as though a little confused at her request. He harrumphed, shuffled his feet, looked at her and then bowed sharply before turning on his heel and taking his leave of her.
Rosalind let out a breath, looking, wide-eyed, at Lady Eleanor.
“How very rude of him!” Lady Eleanor exclaimed, even before the door had closed. “Of course you ought to be permitted to take a walk through the park with your maid! It is not your fault that this happened.”
Closing her eyes, Rosalind felt tiredness sweep over her. The conversation with the Duke as well as the throbbing in her head which grew all the steadier was making her utterly weary. “I think I should like to sleep for a time, Eleanor.”
“Of course.” Her friend squeezed her hand. “I will make sure the Duke knows that how he spoke was most inappropriate.”
Rosalind tried to nod, tried to say something but her eyes were already closing, her body softening into sleep. The last thing she remembered was the sound of the door closing as Lady Eleanor left the room.