The Penitent Duke (The Untamed Nobles #1)

Chapter Thirteen

Whatever were you thinking, berating her like that? She was in pain, suffering with a deep wound and you thought to make it worse by scolding her? What right have you to tell her what she should or should not do?

Lucian winced as Lady Eleanor’s sharp words spun around his mind, reminding him of just how foolish he had been in how he had spoken to Lady Rosalind. He glanced at his reflection in the looking glass and then turned from it, seeing the dark shadows in his expression and the heaviness about his eyes.

It had been a sennight since Lady Rosalind’s accident and she was well enough recovered to be back in society but Lucian had not spent a single moment with her since the day he had gone to her father’s townhouse. He had been so full of mixed emotions in the time thereafter that he had not known what to do with himself, struggling to find any joy or even smidgen of enjoyment in any activity whatsoever. The desire to be away from society had been all the greater and thus, he had spent the last few days in his own company, either in his townhouse or in Whites.

It had been a rather trying time for a heaviness of guilt had settled upon his shoulders with an even greater weight than usual and he had not fully understood why.

“I must go,” he told himself, standing at the top of the staircase and looking down to the hallway, down to where his carriage would be waiting. The ball was being hosted by Lord Radcliffe and Lucian had promised he would attend but, even now, he was struggling with the thought of being in company. Quite why that might be, he did not know but it was a difficulty for him all the same.

With a sigh, he gripped the banister and forced himself to walk down each and every step, a little surprised that his heart suddenly leapt with the thought of seeing Lady Rosalind again. While he had not gone to see her again, he had made sure to send notes and some small gifts to her in lieu of his presence. She had often been in his thoughts, however, and that had been troubling enough.

You are aware that your concern for her comes from your guilt, are you not?

Lucian scowled as he sat back in his carriage, Lord Radcliffe’s quiet words coming back to him as they had done every day for the last sennight .

She is not Lady Pearl. The accident was not her fault and she did not behave in any way inappropriately nor push her decision forward despite all warnings. You cannot treat her in such a way!

Scowling, Lucian rubbed one hand over his face as the carriage rolled forward to Lord Radcliffe’s townhouse. Indeed, he was well aware that there was a difference between Lady Rosalind and Lady Pearl but he could not agree with Lord Radcliffe about such a statement. Surely, he had spoken a little too boldly to Lady Rosalind and yet, his words had been too harsh and he had misjudged her in a way that he ought not to have done but that was not because he viewed her as though she was the very same as Lady Pearl.

Unless… I did. Unless I permitted fear to take a hold of me.

Lucian shook his head, trying to clear that thought.

“All is well,” he muttered to himself as the carriage rolled on. “I shall dance with Lady Rosalind this evening, provided she is well enough, and continue on from there.” A niggle of worry came to him as he thought, wondering now if he ought to apologise, if he ought to tell Lady Rosalind that he recognized he had been too harsh and regretted it. It was not something he had thought to do in a long time for he had, these last few months – if not years – found himself caring less and less for those around him, including Lord Radcliffe. Now, however, there was a concern that he ought to make amends with the lady, fearful that she had been upset by his actions. Lucian tried to tell himself that he did not care about her feelings or the like but the niggle only grew to the most distressing heights so that, as he walked into the ballroom, he could think of nothing but her.

“Your Grace.”

Lucian barely glanced at his host, nodding briefly. “Good evening. I must go in search of my betrothed, do excuse me.”

It was, of course, very rude of him indeed to make so little of his greeting but Lucian did not care. The urgency that pushed him to find Lady Rosalind was growing ever stronger until it felt as though it might break him apart – and that gave him pause. Stopping, he ran one hand over his eyes, then took in a long breath before standing tall again.

Why am I feeling so very much for this lady?

Swallowing against the fear which rose in his throat, Lucian continued to make his way around the room, his eyes searching for her. When he finally caught sight of her, such a joy reached up through him that it was as though the sun had shone, in all its brightness, right in the middle of the room, his heart clattering wildly as he hurried towards her.

“Lady Rosalind. ”

He bowed, then reached out for her, only to snatch his hand back as he realized what he was doing. The smile he wore was pulled away, a frown replacing it as he saw her eyebrows lift, perhaps also a little surprised at his actions. Lord and Lady Fairmont melted away, perhaps eager now to leave Lucian and their daughter in conversation but, for whatever reason, Lucian could not find anything more to say.

“Your Grace.” Lady Rosalind’s words were clipped, her eyes a little narrowed. “You have finally come to see me, then?”

“I – I wanted to make certain you would recover and not crowd you with my presence.” It was a poor excuse and clearly not one that she believed, given the sharpness of her gaze. “I… I was aware that I had not left with a particularly good impression made, truth be told. Though I do hope you received my gifts and my notes.”

She lifted her chin. “I did. None of them, however, contained an apology and that, Strathmore, is what is most desired.”

It was the second time she had referred to him in such an intimate term and it still caught Lucian off guard. She was his betrothed but he had not expected her to speak to him in such a way so soon after their engagement.

“Ah.” When he did not answer, Lady Rosalind shook her head. “I see that you do not think that there is any requirement for you to apologise. That, I suppose, is something I should have come to expect.” At this, her gaze pulled away from him and she folded her arms over her chest. “All the same, I –”

“I am sorry for being brutish.”

The words left his mouth before Lucian could stop them, leaving him blinking in surprise at his own sudden – and genuine – desire to take her upset away. Slowly, Lady Rosalind turned her gaze back towards him and Lucian spread out his hands, stumbling over his words.

“I can see… that is to say, I did not mean to appear as harsh as I sounded, Rosalind. The words came from a place of concern, that is all.”

“Concern?” Lady Rosalind shook her head though her hands fell back to her sides. “I do not understand. What does concern have to do with berating me for taking a walk through the park with my maid? Something, I might add, that is perfectly acceptable for me to do and something for which I was already granted permission!”

Lucian swallowed tightly, the truth beginning to press down hard on his heart. Glancing this way and that, he then reached out and took Lady Rosalind’s hand, tugging her gently towards the side of the ballroom. His hands began to grow hot, his skin prickling as he turned to face her again, seeing the wideness of her eyes and the surprise lingering there .

He closed his eyes. Quite why he wanted to tell her the truth, he did not know, but the desire was there, nonetheless. Something about that accident had altered him in some way, a way that he could not clearly express, but it was there all the same. Was it a need to protect her now? To save her from the very same fate that had pursued Lady Pearl?

“What is it, Strathmore?”

Lady Rosalind’s voice was gentle now, a quietness there which had not been present before. Taking in a long, steady breath, Lucian closed his eyes and silently demanded that he keep the truth back from her.

And then, instead of doing what he wished, he began to speak.

“When I heard of your accident, I was reminded of what had happened with Lady Pearl,” he said, more harshly than he meant. The words brought pain and sorrow with them and Lucian forced them out, seeing how her eyes searched his. “I was previously betrothed to Lady Pearl, as you are aware.” Biting his lip, he paused, pain beginning to course through his jaw as he clenched his hands tightly. Why was this so difficult to share with her?

“She insisted on riding with me,” he continued, his voice rasping now. “I did not want her to but she was quite determined. She would come back to the estate with me on horseback and even though I told her it would not be wise, she was determined and I… well, I gave in.”

Lady Rosalind frowned. “And because of this, you believe that I should not be able to take walks in the park?”

Lucian threw up his hands. “Can you not see that I am trying to protect you?” he asked, his voice rising now. “I ought to have protected Pearl from what happened – from the thieves that chased her over the cliff and into the sea – and thus, I am begging you to do what is wise so that you will be protected!” Breathing hard, Lucian looked down to see his hands grasping Lady Rosalind’s, though quite when he had taken her hand in his, he did not know. Making to release it, his breath hitched as her fingers curled lightly around his, her eyes softening.

“You seek to protect me from myself?” she asked, her voice so quiet that Lucian had to strain to hear it over the noise of the ballroom. “Protect me even from myself, I suppose, in almost demanding that I do – or do not do – what I believe I can? That means, Strathmore, that you must not think me sensible or that I have any wisdom of my own whatsoever!”

Lucian shook his head, struggling to find the words to explain. “No, it is not that. If Lady Pearl had listened to me – and if I had been stronger and insisted that she did not ride on horseback with me to the estate, then her life would not have been lost in the dreadful way it was. I cannot permit myself to make the same mistake again.” The ache in his throat returned and Lucian looked down into Lady Rosalind’s face, trying to comprehend all that he was feeling and at the same time, not understanding even a little of all that was within him. She had known about Lady Pearl already but he had not told her everything. He had not spoken of his feeling of responsibility, of his regret in choosing not to act in the way he now believed he ought to have done. He had never explained his fear, of the dread that had filled him when he had seen her injured but now, even though he had not explained all in words, Lucian could see that she understood it all.

“I am not Lady Pearl.”

“I know you are not but my concern lingers all the same.”

Lady Rosalind’s lips pursed for a moment. “I am afraid that I will not permit you to forbid me or berate me for things as simple as taking a short walk through the park,” she continued, albeit in a gentle manner. “I will say that I can see now why you might be concerned but that does not mean that you can be unreasonable, Strathmore. And in suggesting that I was, in some way, responsible for this injury because I went for a walk is, I think, rather unfair.”

Opening his mouth to protest that this had not been what he had said nor what he had intended to express, Lucian closed his mouth again as he saw a slight glint in her eye. Though he did not want to admit it, she was correct in stating that he made it seem as though she was, somehow, responsible for what had happened.

“I am not about to be foolish but I am certainly not going to be held back from reasonable decisions,” she finished, pressing his hand as a spark shot up Lucian’s arm, sending his heart catapulting about his chest when she smiled. “I do hope you understand.”

The tightness in his throat grew swiftly though this time, it did not come from the emotions which had built up when he had spoken of Lady Pearl. Looking down into Lady Rosalind’s eyes, he let his breath out slowly, fighting to keep his heart away from her.

“I presume you are going to ask me to dance?” The corner of Lady Rosalind’s lips tipped upwards and Lucian could not help but smile. Strangely, her audacity did not seem to trouble him as much any longer.

“So long as you are well enough to dance?” he asked, as she took the dance card from her wrist and handed it to him. “I do not want you to be in any pain.” When she assured him she was well, Lucian made to sign her dance card, only to pause. Looking back at her, he held her gaze for a moment. “I truly am sorry for speaking as brashly as I did. I am sure that must have been upsetting when you were already in a great deal of pain and upset. ”

Lady Rosalind said nothing for a few moments, though her eyebrows lifted gently. Then, she smiled and touched his arm. “I do appreciate your apology, Your Grace,” she answered, quietly. “That means a great deal to me.”

As you do to me.

The words that etched themselves into his mind confounded Lucian and he could only stare at the lady for a time. It was only when her gaze went to her dance card that he finally pulled himself from it, realizing what it was he was meant to be doing. Blindly, he wrote his name to two dances, recognizing that this was what he ought to do as her betrothed, and then handed the card back to her.

“The waltz, Your Grace?”

Lucian blinked, seeing her eyes a little widened, a flickering light in them. “The waltz?”

“Yes.” She held it up to him. “You have chosen that and the cotillion. A most intimate dance, Strathmore. I confess, I am a little surprised that you have chosen that one.”

With a slight shrug, Lucian searched his mind for a reason to offer her. “It is important that we give society the impression that all is well, I suppose.”

The light that he had seen in her eyes a moment ago faded almost instantly and Lucian opened his mouth to say something else, to pull back on what he had said, but nothing came to him.

“But of course.” Lady Rosalind smiled for only a moment, then dropped her head. “I shall make sure to dance it well.”

“I am certain you shall.”

Try as he might, Lucian could not see even the smallest flicker of light in her eyes now. It was as though he had painted them in darkness with his words, regret washing through him. Nothing he could say now would take away from what he had expressed and, though he told himself to dismiss it, Lucian was surprised at how much he wanted to see her eyes glow like that again.

What is happening to me?

As Lady Rosalind turned away, Lucian let out a sigh, the sound chasing after her. He already knew what was happening to him – and was fighting it with all his might.