10. ROSINA
Chapter ten
ROSINA
Two months later, Duke of Arran’s Estate
The journey had been slow, the weather wet and the roads appalling.
Rosina would rather have ridden a horse but there was Mary to consider, and Jeanette.
Her mother hadn’t wanted to come with her, but Rosina wouldn’t leave her.
Despite what she had done, Jeanette was still dependent on her daughter.
Besides, Jeanette and Dugald had had a long conversation before he left Tighe, and although Rosina didn’t know exactly what was said—“He asked about your father”—her mother had been chastened ever since.
Rosina didn’t expect it to last forever.
“There is the castle!” Mary was pointing, jumping up and down in her seat.
The Duke’s estate was large and his home recently build, so no drafty stairways and corridors like Tighe.
“Arran has done well for himself,” Jeanette said, brightening.
The coach was drawing closer now, and as they passed through the gate Rosina could see green lawns and gardens either side of them. Dugald would be waiting for her; he had probably expected her to arrive a week ago, but the weather ...
She found herself worrying whether he had changed his mind about them coming to stay with him.
It was mainly because of Mary. Father and daughter had found a great many things in common before he left Tighe, and her heart had been gladdened by that.
As for her own relationship with him, Rosina was less sure.
He seemed to have forgiven her for what she had said to him when their hand fasting was torn asunder.
The truth had set them both free. But as for anything more than friendship and the sharing of a child ...
? She didn’t know what he felt for her. Until the morning he left they had been hot for each other, the fire in their blood seemingly unquenchable.
But lust was not love, and she still expected to have her heart broken.
Dugald was a man with a future, and he must marry well.
Rosina would have to pretend she did not care about him giving himself to another woman and she wasn’t sure she could do it.
There were servants waiting on the stairs as they drew up and Mary and Jeanette were soon bustled away to their rooms, but Rosina was taken to one side.
Nervously she saw a grand man approaching her, bewigged, with lace ruffles on his sleeves and throat, and holding an ebony cane.
Rosina was glad she was wearing the new rose red dress that Dugald had sent to her.
“Is it Mistress Gordon?” he demanded.
“Yes, Your Grace.” She curtseyed, wondering what he was going to say. Had Dugald changed his mind? Had the duke come to send her away?
“You are as beautiful as I was told,” he informed her. Before she could answer, he raised his voice. “Here she is, laddie!”
Startled, Rosina looked up, just in time to see Dugald come hurrying through the door toward her.
His face was alight, and her heart was attempting to escape from her chest. I love you, I love you ...
The words threatened to burst out of her and she held them in with difficulty because he mustn’t know how much she cared.
“Rosina.” Dugald took her hand and bent over it, and then he was standing there, staring at her. Rosina looked into his eyes and saw ...
Love. Nothing but love. And then he smiled. “You’re here,” he said. “You’re home.”
And Rosina forgot about being careful, she forgot about protocol, about behaving in a manner befitting her station and his, forgot about the watching noble. She flung her arms around him and he swung her up so that her feet were a long way off the ground, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
***
DUGALD
The duke found it all very amusing. Dugald was glad of that—he had worried when he came home from Tighe that things would not go well. But after his talk with Jeanette Gordon he had discovered there were still some influential relatives left and one was a man the duke was keen to do business with.
“I think you are right,” he had declared, one memorable evening, when they had both drunk far too much. “You should marry this girl. It will be of benefit to us both. Yes, Dugald, I am feeling benevolent. Let love have its way.”
Dugald wasn’t sure what he would have done if his first plan hadn’t worked, but he had others. He had been determined.
“Go and walk the garden,” the duke shooed them. “The showers seem to have passed for now.”
Dugald didn’t wait. He took Rosina’s hand and hurried her out. “What do you mean this is my home?” she asked him, when he paused long enough for her to speak. “I thought we were visiting and—”
“I want you to live here with me.”
“Dugald ...” Her grey eyes were big.
“Before you tell me I’m too young,” he teased, “I think we should clear up a little matter.”
“What matter?” she asked, looking worried.
Really, he would have to teach his love not to think that at any moment her happiness would be swept out from under her, as it had been ten years ago.
“You know I have forgiven you for what happened. I understand. I may not agree that sacrificing our happiness was the best way of doing things, but I understand. And I do not pretend I was completely innocent. I should have realised you would not tear us apart unless you saw no other way.”
“Dugald,” she murmured, tears in her eyes.
“I have even forgiven your harridan of a mother. I am in a very forgiving mood. Do you know why?”
“I ... No. Unless, are you getting married?” He could see it was something she had dreaded.
He smiled. “I am.”
“Is she ... important?” she managed, looking away.
“Important to me. How long do you think the engagement should last,” he said.
Her mouth opened and closed again, and suddenly he could not play games any longer. His love was hurting.
He bent down to capture her lips with his.
“I favour not very long,” he murmured, and kissed her again.
“Dugald, I cannot ...”
“I spoke to your mother when I was at Tighe. Did you know you have some relatives the duke is interested in fleecing?”
“They never received my mother’s letters,” she said with a sigh.
“No, they didn’t,” he replied solemnly. “Of course, if they had, you and I would not be here now.”
“Mary, too.”
“The duke is eager to form an alliance between the Gordons and myself. I would have married you anyway, Rosina, but this way I do not have to go against his wishes, which is better for all of us. We will marry and there will be only smiles at the wedding.”
She seemed to be struggling to make sense of it.
“I love you, Rosina. We will marry and you and Mary will live here with me. Your mother, too, unless I can find a Gordon to take her.”
He was very serious, and yet she saw the light-hearted boy he had been in his handsome face.
“I love you, Dugald,” she said, her hand against his jaw, her grey eyes fixed on his. “Always. Forever.”
“Are you saying yes?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I am saying yes.”
Dugald suddenly looked around him. “There’s a gazebo here somewhere,” he said. “We’ll be out of the way of any showers in there. We need to inspect it.”
“We ... what?” Rosina squealed as he swung her up in his arms.
“I have been waiting for you for two months,” he informed her, with a grin. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you, my love.”
She nestled against his chest. “Don’t expect me to argue with that,” she said. “And as for the engagement ... there’s always hand fasting. It’s much quicker.”
He bent his head and kissed her. Suddenly he was grave again. “We will do better this time, Rosina. We will make our promises and we will never break them.”
Rosina nodded, too full of happiness to speak, and besides it was useless arguing with him when he was being bossy. So she rested her head against her Dugald’s shoulder as he carried her across the lawn.