The Penitent Duke (The Untamed Nobles #1)

Chapter Eighteen

“I must just find something to drink. Thank you for the dance.” Rosalind dropped into a curtsy and then stepped away, her heart filled with excitement as she thought about the next dance, the one where she would again be in the Duke’s arms. There was something so different about him now, something that gave her both a hope for the future and for the happiness that could be theirs, should he continue to change as he had been. For the first time, Rosalind wholeheartedly believed that he could. A tingling ran up her arms as she thought about dancing with him, knowing that he would pull her close, that his hand would be about her waist. That was something she eagerly desired now, something that she truly longed for. It had been a slow growing desire but it was there in force now, an urge to be as close to the Duke as she could be.

The ballroom was hot and crowded and, knowing there was some relief to be found in the hallway, Rosalind stepped out for only a few moments, aware that she would soon have to find the Duke. The ton had certainly stopped eyeing her with that clear eagerness to gossip about all she said and did – helped by the fact that a lady of society had done something truly dreadful and was now being whispered about – and that came as something of a relief. Taking a glass from a passing footman, Rosalind made to turn back to go into the room, only for a voice to catch her attention.

“Lady Rosalind! Good evening. I was hopeful I might see you this evening.”

Turning, Rosalind smiled as Lord Westlake came out from one of the rooms to greet her. “Good evening, Lord Westlake.” She made her way towards him. “Have you been playing cards?”

The gentleman chuckled. “Something like that. Are you alone?”

A slight heat washed over Rosalind’s cheeks. “Yes, I am. I ought not to be, of course, but there does come a slight freedom with being engaged to a Duke! I am to dance the waltz with him next, however, so I must return to the ballroom.”

“Wait a moment.”

Much to Rosalind’s surprise, Lord Westlake’s hand shot out and caught her arm.

“There is more that I wanted to say to you,” the gentleman continued, tightening on her arm. “Now, Lady Rosalind, you must – ”

“If you would excuse me,” Rosalind interrupted, a niggle of fear in her heart now. “Please, I must return.”

“No.”

There was a tightness in Lord Westlake’s jaw now, a glint in his eye which made fear crawl over Rosalind’s skin, her breath quickening. Her stomach twisted sharply as the veiled lady’s words returned to her, making her eyes flare in shock. Could it be that Lord Westlake was the gentleman of whom she had been speaking?

“You will come with me, Lady Rosalind, without protest.” Lord Westlake’s fingers dug into her arm and he turned, beginning to pull her along towards the room he had just stepped out of. “You have saved me a great deal of trouble, I confess, for I feared that I would have to come in search of you! I am greatly relieved to see now that I do not have to do such a thing. You have practically landed on my lap!”

Rosalind made to cry out in both fright and in the hope of catching the attention of others nearby but Lord Westlake turned his head and glared at her, then yanked her, hard, into the room.

The door closed tightly behind him.

“Release me,” Rosalind cried, determined now to escape him. “You cannot do such a thing!”

“Oh, but I can.” Lord Westlake did not release her as she had asked but instead pulled her closer to him, making her cry out in pain as his fingers tightened all the more. “I will make sure that the Duke of Strathmore does not have a single moment of happiness for the rest of his days!”

Awash with fear, Rosalind stared into his eyes, seeing how they narrowed as though they were daggers, ready to press into her skin. “Then it was you?”

Lord Westlake chuckled darkly. “You have realised, then, that those two accidents were not accidents, as you believed? I did not think that you would. Mayhap I have underestimated you.”

Not knowing what to say, Rosalind could only look away, a slight trembling taking over her.

“The Duke deserves to suffer and I have every intention of making sure that he has nothing but pain the rest of his days,” Lord Westlake continued, angry now. “And if that means bringing injury to you, then so be it.”

“But… but you jumped into the pond to help me,” Rosalind said, aware of the shaking in her voice. “Why would you do such a thing?” When he laughed, the awareness of why he had done such a thing set it self into Rosalind’s mind. “You wanted to make sure that no-one suspected you?”

“I certainly have underestimated you!” came the reply. “Yes, Lady Rosalind, that is precisely it. I did not want anyone to think that I was in any way responsible so what better way than to try and save you? Though it did not quite work as expected.” He scowled, leaning close to her. “You were meant to hit your head on one of the stones and rocks at the end of the pond. I did not expect you to have recovered so quickly.”

Rosalind shuddered violently. “I do not understand. Why would you do such a thing? What did the Duke do that has caused you to hate him so much?”

Lord Westlake shook her, hard, his voice screaming across her ears. “Are you being deliberately foolish? You know about Pearl. You know what he did.”

Letting out another cry, Rosalind wrenched herself away from him, stumbling back as she did so. Gathering herself quickly, she rushed towards the door but Lord Westlake hurried forward, putting himself between her and the door – and then leaning back against it.

“You will not escape me, Lady Rosalind. I am afraid that something more is going to be required of you this night.”

Rosalind’s breath ran from her chest, her eyes widening as she looked into Lord Westlake’s face, seeing a madness there. “You cannot mean…” She trailed off, not able to find the strength to say those words clearly.

“My sister died because of him. He took something precious from me and now, I will take something precious from him. That way, the burden on his shoulders will not get lighter but only heavier. And that is all that I want.”

“No.” Rosalind stepped back, making her way behind the couch as though that, somehow, would save her. “You cannot do such a wicked thing.”

“Yes, I can.” Lord Westlake shrugged as though what he had suggested was something to be easily dismissed. “I have tried to cause you suffering in the hope that you would turn away from him, but you did not. Therefore, if you will not cause him the pain that he so deserves, then I will do it for you.”

“By taking my life?”

“Yes. Precisely.” Lord Westlake sniffed and then, standing up straight, pulled something from his pocket – something that caught the light. “Now, I will not do anything to you here, for that would be somewhat distasteful. If you do anything or say anything that will result in others being aware of your predicament, then this dagger will find its way through your clothing and into your flesh. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Rosalind nodded, her whole being suddenly cold.

“The Duke will know that he is responsible,” Lord Westlake continued, his voice quiet now as though he was speaking to himself. “I will make sure of it.”

He stepped away and, just as he did so, the door flew open, knocking into Lord Westlake. He fell forward, a dreadful cry coming from him as he hit the floor and Rosalind stepped back, just as a figure came into the room. She wore a veil over her face and Rosalind snatched in another breath, only for the lady to reach out one hand to her.

“Lady Rosalind. Come with me at once.”

Without a word of protest, Rosalind rushed across the room, grasping the lady’s hand. They stepped out into the hallway, Lord Westlake’s groaning following after them but neither the lady nor Rosalind gave him even the smallest glance.

“Rosalind!”

The veiled lady gasped, as the Duke rushed towards them all, and made to hurry away but Rosalind, holding her hand tightly still, refused to let go.

“Rosalind, thank goodness! Where have you been?” He grasped her shoulders, looking intently into her eyes, only for his gaze to go to the veiled lady. “You! Are you –”

“I must go.” The veiled lady tugged her hand out of Rosalind’s grasp. “Please, do not stop my departure. He cannot see me.”

Rosalind’s heart pounded. “Lord Westlake?” She saw the lady’s gaze go to the room again and knew she was correct. “I do not think that you need to fear. He had a dagger and I think he may have fallen on it.”

“Dagger?” Lady Eleanor appeared on the other side of the veiled lady who, thankfully, still had not run away. “Lord Westlake had a dagger?”

“Lord Radcliffe, if you would?”

The Duke barely glanced at his friend, holding Rosalind’s gaze but Lord Radcliffe quickly made his way to the door before hurrying inside.

“Please,” Rosalind continued, turning now to the veiled lady. “We must understand what has happened here. How did you know that Lord Wastlake wished to injure me in such a way? Why did you send a warning to the Duke for I know that it was you.”

The Duke nodded. “Please do explain all. We are both in your debt.”

The veiled lady hesitated, then turned. “There is a room here. Let us all sit down so I might explain. ”

Rosalind glanced at the Duke, then followed after the veiled lady without a word. Lord Radcliffe hurried from the room, called two footmen in after him and, thereafter, came after Lady Eleanor, clearly unwilling to miss out on any of the explanation. Rosalind sat down quickly, the Duke beside her, trying to make out the lady’s features from behind her veil.

“Lord Westlake is injured.” Lord Radcliffe’s voice caught everyone’s attention and Rosalind turned her head, seeing him standing by the door as though to guard it. “The dagger he had… well, it looks like he stabbed himself with it by accident when he fell.”

“Goodness.” Rosalind put one hand to her heart. “Will he recover?”

“I believe so, though it will take time,” Lord Radcliffe told her, and Rosalind did not know whether she felt any joy or relief in that. “The injury was not overly deep. Though quite why he had a dagger, I cannot understand.”

The Duke put one arm around Rosalind’s shoulders, coming to sit close to her. “I believe he is the one who caused those other two accidents, yes?” he asked, as Rosalind nodded, closing her eyes for a moment or two. “But I do not know why.”

“Because,” Rosalind answered, her hands gripping together as she forced the words out. “Because he wanted to punish you, Strathmore. He said that as you were responsible for the death of Lady Pearl, so he would be responsible for the death of someone close to you in return. The guilt and shame that you bore would be doubled, and all because of what you supposedly did.” Reaching out, she took his hand. “Though I do not think you are responsible.”

“Nor do I,” Lord Radcliffe added. “It was unfortunate and –”

“And it was not true,” said the veiled lady and, in one swift motion, took off her veil and let it fall to the couch beside her.

Rosalind did not know who it was she was looking at. She did not recognize the lady, had never seen her before and yet the way the Duke responded – with a gasp of shock as he reeled back – told her that he knew precisely who this was.

“Lady… Lady Pearl?”