Chapter Fourteen
“You are smiling.”
Rosalind looked up at the Duke of Strathmore, the smile on her lips falling away. “Your Grace?”
“You are smiling,” he said again, as Rosalind continued to let him lead her across the dance floor. “That is to say, you were. ”
“I am enjoying the dance,” Rosalind answered, honestly. “I was, truth be told, a little anxious about it all but it seems to be going very well.” This was more than she might ever have been able to say at another dance but given how closely the Duke was holding her and how intimate a dance it was, Rosalind had no difficulty in speaking with him. She said nothing more, however, holding the Duke’s gaze as they danced together.
What she had told him was quite true, she had been enjoying the dance and, were she being entirely honest, had been a little surprised at just how well they stepped out together. She had been initially a little worried that she might forget how to let him lead and where her steps ought to go but now, it was as though they were gliding across the dance floor. The Duke was sure and certain in the dance, holding her gently but firmly enough so that she could follow his lead and now, she was barely giving her steps even a momentary thought.
“It is… pleasant.”
The Duke’s response made Rosalind’s lips quirk despite the fact that she tried her best to keep that hidden from him. Another glance at him told her that he had seen it and she gave him another brief smile before pulling her gaze away.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, not in the least!” she exclaimed, her hands tightening inadvertently on his shoulder and on his hand. “I am glad that you find our dance pleasant, Your Grace.”
He sniffed but said nothing for some moments and the dance continued on all the same. The chalk floor was, by now, well and truly ruined, so that the beautiful chalk picture which had been there at the beginning of the evening was now nothing but a swirl of dust.
“I was not expecting to enjoy it,” he said, the words hitting at Rosalind’s heart with such force, she could not help but catch her breath. Was that not the very same thing as she had been thinking?
“You are an excellent dancer, Lady Rosalind,” he continued, perhaps not seeing the shock which Rosalind was sure rippled down into her expression. “Thank you for standing up with me.” “But of course,” was all that Rosalind could say, looking up at him and seeing the line which formed between his brows. She did not want to say anything more, a little surprised by all that he had expressed. Indeed, she had been astonished at a good many things that he had said this evening, for one thing she had never expected to hear from him an apology! Even more so, she had not thought that he would ever speak of Lady Pearl in the way that he had and, Rosalind had to admit, there had been a good deal of sympathy within her heart when he had expressed himself in that way.
“A good dance, I think,” he murmured, breaking her out of her own thoughts as the dance came to an end. Rosalind, surprised at the hint of reluctance she felt to step back from him, dropped her hand from his shoulder and released his other hand, ready to drop into a curtsy. The Duke bowed and Rosalind bent into her curtsy, only to let out an exclamation.
Something heavy slammed into her back, making her stumble forward. Her hands flew out, the floor reaching up to meet her – only for the Duke’s strong arms to catch her.
“Goodness, are you all right, Rosalind?” The Duke, pulling her close, looked all around but there were already a stream of couples departing from the center of the ballroom, ready to return to their friends or waiting parents. “I did not see who was foolish enough to knock into you but –”
“I am sure it was nothing more than a mistake.” Rosalind, her chest heaving with both fright and surprise, caught the Duke’s hand in hers which quietened him instantly. The last thing either of them needed was for more of the ton to notice what had just taken place which, no doubt, would then lead to a good deal more gossip!
“Are you well?”
Surprised by the gentleness in his eyes, by the softness of his expression as he searched her face, Rosalind nodded slowly, aware of how his fingers tightened around hers for just a moment. “I am.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“You caught me before I had a chance to injure myself,” she answered, quietly, settling her other hand atop their joined ones. “Thank you, Strathmore.”
The Duke looked back at her for another long moment before, finally, nodding his head and then turning away. His fingers freed themselves from hers, only for him to offer her his arm. Grateful, she accepted it and he led her from the dance floor to the side of the ballroom to where her mother was waiting. Lady Fairmont was smiling, clearly unaware of anything that had just taken place and Rosalind, glancing up at the Duke and silently praying that he would not think to say anything, returned it quickly.
“An excellent waltz,” her mother declared, looking from Rosalind to the Duke and back again. “I do hope you enjoyed it?”
Rosalind nodded. “I did. It has been some time since I danced the waltz last though, I must say, it was easier to step into than I had expected.”
“You danced it beautifully.”
The quietness of the Duke’s voice was something of a surprise in itself, though it was the tenderness she was sure she heard that made Rosalind’s heart leap up in astonishment. A glance at the Duke and then back to her mother told her that she had not simply imagined that sweetness there, for her own mother had also gone wide-eyed, staring at the Duke as though he had just said something utterly preposterous.
“I do hope we can dance it again, at another ball.”
Rosalind swallowed her surprise and nodded. “I would be glad to.”
With a nod – but with no smile on his face – the Duke took his leave and stepped away, leaving Rosalind to watch after him though her mother quickly put a hand on Rosalind’s arm, drawing her attention.
“The Duke did seem to speak very kindly there, Rosalind,” she said, a sense of wonder in her voice that seemed to reflect Rosalind’s own emotion. “Has something happened between you? Have you both grown in an understanding of what you seek in your connection?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Rosalind tried to dismiss her mother’s question, smiling quickly. “He has apologised for the somewhat harsh way he spoke to me when I was recovering from my injury and that has brought a greater… understanding between us, I suppose.”
“That can only be a good thing!” A bright smile spread across Lady Fairmont’s face. “I am very glad to hear it, my dear, for if you can tolerate him – and he you – then I think that your marriage will be all the happier.”
Rosalind kept her smile fixed but said nothing, looking away from her mother and letting her own heart fill with questions. Could it be that they might be able to do more than tolerate each other? She had seen a different character in the Duke this evening, had been able to understand just a little of his pain and sorrow over the death of Lady Pearl. Might it be that, underneath all the pain, sorrow and grief, there was a truly kind gentleman?
** *
“I must say, I am surprised that he spoke to you so.”
Rosalind smiled back at Lady Eleanor as they meandered through St James’ Park. “As was I, though the more that I have considered it, the more grateful I am to him for being so willing to speak.”
“That is something significant, indeed,” Lady Eleanor agreed, quietly. “I must say, I personally feel a little more sympathy towards him after this, for it must be a dreadful burden to bear – though, as Lord Radcliffe has told me, not one that the Duke needs to carry.”
Rosalind sighed softly. “It is clear to me that he believes himself responsible for what happened to Lady Pearl. It is as though he thinks that, had he refused her request, had he demanded that she remain in London or take the carriage back to his estate rather than permitting her to ride with him, then she would still be with him today. She would be his wife, they would be contented and happy and therefore, since he did not do such a thing, he is now responsible for her passing. He bears the responsibility, the shame that comes with it and the pain that must have burned through his very soul upon hearing such news.” With another sigh, Rosalind shook her head. “I do think that he would be a very different character if he did not bear such a heavy weight. It might alter a good many things about him.”
“You think he would not be as dark and as dismal a man.” Lady Eleanor glanced at Rosalind and then nodded. “I can agree with that though what happens if he does not ever do such a thing? What if he continues to be just as he is at this moment?”
Rosalind could not answer. That was a great and terrible fear, she had to admit, and it sat so deeply in her heart that she could not do anything else with it other than to admit it to herself. There was a chance that he might never change, that he might always be inconsiderate, uncaring and eager only for his own company but part of her wanted to believe that he might alter completely. Had she not seen a little of that already? Had she not seen him change in his attitude towards her? That apology, though small, had been significant enough and gave her a small glimmer of light. A glimmer, surely, but barely anything more than that.
“Oh, look! Is that not Lady Sommerville?”
Rosalind looked across the large pond to see a lady waving at them and, with a smile, she waved back. “Yes, I believe it is.” Lady Cecelia Sommerville had been acquainted with both Lady Eleanor and Rosalind herself last Season, though she out of the three of them had been the only one to wed .
“Should you like to go to speak with her?” Lady Eleanor asked, as Rosalind nodded. “It would be wonderful to hear what her first year of marriage has been like!”
With a laugh, Rosalind made to follow after Lady Eleanor, who immediately began to hurry along the path around the pond in search of Lady Sommerville. Rosalind, the sun in her eyes, bent her head so that her bonnet hid the sunshine from her face, when something happened.
She could not explain it for the shock was so great that, one moment she was walking along the path and the very next, she was thrown into the pond itself… and the water immediately began to close over her head.