Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“And as I have told you, it is imperative that I see him.” Rose did her best to bite back the anger while making sure to keep her voice as deep as she could. “If you will send for him now, I am certain –”
“Just as I am certain that he will tell me exactly what I am telling you right now.” The butler stood on the other side of the open door, blocking it as if he were made of stone. “His Grace does not wish to be disturbed.”
“He will be,” Rose pressed. “All I ask is that you –”
“Were the hour not so late,” the butler spoke over her. “And was the visitor not so…” His eyes flicked over her dismissively. “Disheveled, perhaps. I suggest that you send a request ahead of time, to save yourself moments like this one.”
“And as I have been trying to tell you, there was no time,” Rose continued hotly. “I must speak with His Grace at once. I know he is home. Just as I know he will wish to see me.”
The butler’s lip curled into a sneer. “I highly doubt it.”
This is getting me nowhere! Should I attempt force? Perhaps charge right by, and hope to catch him by surprise? And then what? Sprint through the manor, screaming the Duke’s name until he comes out?
Somehow, Rose doubted that would help. Likely, it would make what she had come here for that much harder to do.
Although how much harder could it possibly be?
The hour was late, chosen specifically so that her father would be fast asleep, allowing Rose to sneak from the house without being noticed.
And for safety purposes, because a lady never could be too careful, she had also chosen to don some of her father’s old clothes and pass herself off as a male.
Yes, she was dressed as a man; the cloak, the pants, the hat, which she had pulled down to cover her face. Her dark hair was tucked under its lip, and her bust was purposefully bound to complete the look. Personally, she thought she did a pretty good job of it.
Unfortunately, the butler who answered the door didn’t seem to agree.
“Will you please just send for him?” She did her best to sound pleading. “He will thank you for it.”
“As he will thank me for removing you from the premises. Now, be gone, and be thankful that His Grace did not –”
“Jeffery?” a deep voice spoke suddenly from within the manor. “Who is at the front door?”
“Nobody, Your Grace.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Your Grace, please, I must speak with you at once!” She kept her voice deep as she shouted past the butler. “I know the hour is late, and was it not of utmost importance, I would have never –”
“Quiet!” the butler hissed at her. “It is nothing, Your Grace. I am dealing with it.”
“It does not sound like nothing,” the Duke’s voice drifted from the darkness behind the butler. Next, Rose heard his footsteps approach, and then the door swung open to reveal the Duke of Thornwell.
He was taller than Rose remembered. Cloaked in darkness, all she could see of him was his green eyes. They studied her, and she had the feeling that he could see through her. He stared in silence, her heart started to race, and she had to work as hard as she ever had not to shy away.
“I – I am sorry to disturb you, Your Grace,” Rose began, keeping her voice deep. “And ordinarily I would not dare to do so. But it is imperative that I speak with you.”
“It sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“And as I have told this gentleman, if he wishes to speak with you, this is not the means to do so,” the butler interrupted. “Shall I have him removed, Your Grace?”
The Duke continued to look down at Rose. His expression was impassive, time seemed to stand still on his command, and all Rose could hear was the thumping of her heart and the rattling of her breath.
She tried to stand tall, to point her chin, to act like a man. But she knew then, as she knew anything, that he saw right through her.
“Jeffery, show her to my office.”
“Your Grace!”
“Now,” he said with command. He shared a final look with Rose, a smirk tugged at his lips, and he turned and strode back inside.
Rose gaped as she watched the Duke vanish.
She did not mean to do so. She would have liked to have looked righteous and in control of herself.
But the feeling that overtook her was similar to that from the first time she had seen him.
There was just something so unescapable about the Duke.
He carried with him a sense of authority and confidence that she could not ignore. That she did not want to be ignored by.
He is not dangerous, but he does not need to be. A man like that can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to, and he knows it.
“This way,” the butler said with a grunt as he stepped back.
Rose straightened herself and tried not to smile as she stepped inside. Despite the success of the moment, she was beginning to second-guess the brilliance of her plan.
Nerves jangled through her as she followed the butler through the large manor.
Few lamps were lit, shrouding the journey in darkness as their footsteps echoed across the wide halls.
Rose jumped at any random sounds, her body shivering.
Despite her best efforts to present confidence, she knew she was giving a poor performance.
“Here we are,” The butler came to a stop at a closed door. He then knocked a single time.
“Come in,” the Duke called.
The Duke stood in front of his desk, his arms folded, his expression stern and defensive. His visage glowed as if the fire in the hearth was drawing its light from him and not the other way around.
The otherworldliness of the effect caused Rose’s knees to shake as she came to a stop just inside the door.
She raised her chin again, attempting not to appear intimidated.
But that only made it so that her eyes were on his face, traveling over his sharp features.
Her stomach churned as she realized again how handsome he was, and she lowered her gaze.
No! Focus, Rose. This is about Marianne and Marianne only. Do not allow yourself to become distracted.
“You may leave us,” the Duke said as soon as she was inside.
“Your Grace –”
“Now, Jefferey.” He did not raise his voice, but it was cutting. “And close the door behind you.”
The butler looked at her once again with a scathing glare. He bowed before shuffling from the room and closing the door behind him.
Alone now, she tried to stand tall and face up to the Duke, but he was so much bigger than her, so much more powerful and in full command of himself, that she was a flower wilting in the shadow.
And those eyes fixed her on in a way she was becoming too used to; a way that made her feel utterly exposed and powerless.
This was not going to be easy.
“Miss Rosalind Drayton,” the Duke said at once. “This is rather unexpected. Not to mention unconventional.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “You know who I am?”
“Jeffery might be happy to play ignorant, but I don’t see much of a point. Especially considering all the effort you went through to get here.” He looked her over, and she could not tell if he was amused by her pantomime or if he was judging her. “Too much, considering why you are here.”
“You don’t know why I am here.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I…” Rose realized that her entire body was shaking. If this was going to work, she needed to present confidence. She needed to give the Duke a reason to believe her.
So, she straightened up and removed her hat, letting her dark brown hair out so that it flowed past her shoulders and back. Then she pronounced her chin with confidence, before finally forcing herself to meet the Duke’s green eyes.
“I am here to speak of my sister,” she said.
It was subtle, but the Duke appeared somewhat taken by her sudden change.
His eyes widened, if only for a second, and she could have sworn that she saw him smile, but as she had come to learn about him, such things did not last. His expression turned serious quickly, and the room darkened around him.
“Let me guess. You wish for me to cancel our engagement?” He sat on the end of the table, arms still folded.
“I do.”
He scoffed, “As I have said, the effort you have taken to get here is commendable, but also pointless. As you know, I am bound by contract, as is your father. This marriage is happening, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”
“But –”
“Nor will you convince me to try,” he spoke over her. He did not raise his voice, but he did not need to. “You are smart, Miss Rosalind, and intuitive, no doubt. Which means that you know why I cannot even consider what you are suggesting.”
“You do not love her,” Rose said.
“Your point?”
“I know that you do not want to marry her.” Rose forced herself to walk deeper into the room. “Not really. I saw how you looked at her today. I saw in your eyes that you want this marriage no more than she does.”
“Did you, now?”
“She is just a girl,” Rose pleaded. She felt like a fool wearing her father’s clothes, as if that made the situation comical. She would have been more comfortable in one of her neatly pressed gowns. “She does not deserve to have her life ruined for –”
“Is that what you think I am doing?” he cut over her. “Ruining her life? Most young ladies would jump at the chance to marry a duke. You should remind your sister of how lucky she is, where others might be more thankful for such an opportunity.”
“My sister is young,” Rose said. “She does not see marriage as a practicality like most would, but a blessing bestowed on two lovers destined to spend their lives together. She wants a love match, not a business contract.”
“Your sister’s idealism is not my concern.”
“It should be,” Rose countered. “If you wish to keep things from becoming difficult. Based on what I know of you, I would have thought that would be your primary concern.”
He frowned at her. “What are you saying?”