Chapter 9
Della smoothed out her dress, leaving the somewhat hidden alcove off to the side of the terrace where she and Aden had sat. It was a beautiful night as she walked along the path. The light from the moon revealed a lightly treaded area between some bushes, leading to a more secluded area.
She knew she should not be out here alone, but the ballroom was hot and overcrowded. Better to be out here where one can think and breathe.
Wondering where it might lead, Della followed the path for a short time until the sound of voices made her pause. She listened; they were arguing, and the crunching of footsteps sounded as though they were heading straight for her.
Not wanting to be seen should they be out here for a secret meeting—or worse—Della ducked behind the closest tree. She braced herself against the thick bark, her hand coming to rest on some flowers with large protruding thorns.
“Ow…” Della looked at her hand.
Wonderful. Now not only was she bleeding, but she was stuck behind this tree until the other people left.
“I told you I believe that being honest is the best thing moving forward…so be honest with me now,” the man said. “Did you start the rumor that I postponed the announcement because I plan to cry off?”
Good heavens, she must have accidentally stumbled upon Royce and Miss Putnam having their conversation. And by the sound of it, it was not going well.
“So, what if I did?” Miss Putnam’s voice dripped with bitterness.
“Miss Putnam, I like to think myself an intelligent man, but I do not understand why you are spreading these rumors. Why give the Ton the ability to harm you? You may think these rumors only affect me, but they affect you as well.”
Della could feel the angry tension in the air as neither Royce nor Miss Putnam spoke for a few moments. She only hoped they would finish their conversation soon. It was getting cold, and Tilly was probably looking for her by now.
“Then what are we to do, Your Grace?”
Royce cleared his throat. “I would still like to know that we have an understanding.”
“And what of Miss Rowntree?” Miss Putnam asked acerbically.
“What of her?”
“I saw you in the park. Can you honestly say that nothing is going on between you two? While I can tolerate a marriage of convenience, I will not tolerate being your second choice in our marriage.”
Thinking herself well hidden, Della attempted to look around the tree to see if she might flee without being seen, when a twig snapped beneath her foot.
Royce’s head jerked up, looking in her direction as she ducked back behind the tree. Had he seen her? She prayed he had not. What was she to do? If she attempted to flee now, there was no way she could avoid being spotted.
“It was a temporary lapse in judgement, one that I can assure you will not be repeated. Della is a friend, nothing more.”
Della’s temper flared. A temporary lapse in judgement? What was that supposed to mean?
“Very well, Your Grace.” Della heard Miss Putnam say. “Our understanding will remain in place…for now.”
“Thank you, Miss Putnam. All I ask is that you cease spreading these rumors. They are doing more harm than good. Does your father know you are the one who started them?”
“He does not, and I ask that it remain that way. He is angry enough as it is.” The sound of her voice hinted at a tinge of fear. “Shall we go back to the ballroom?”
“Not together. We have been away for a while. You go back through the door on the terrace, and I shall make my way back later to avoid speculation.”
“I bid you good evening, Your Grace.”
Della listened, hearing only one set of footsteps leave, which meant…
“Miss Rowntree.” Royce called out in an eerily calm tone.
Della closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps if she remained silent, he would think she had already left.
“Do not think for one moment that I do not know you are still behind that tree. Have you not noticed I am between you and your only way out?”
Della looked around…damn.
“I will give you to the count of three…One…”
How dare he count like her governess used to when she was caught filching a sweet from the cupboard. But in this case, she had not been doing anything wrong. She had come upon them by accident and had not the chance to leave before being seen.
“Two…”
For heaven’s sake, this was ridiculous.
“Three…”
It was silent for a moment, and Della wondered what Royce would do, when she felt a hand clasp her arm. She screamed as she spun around. Riiip! Della cringed as she looked down to see a tear on the bottom of her dress.
“Oh, bother.” Della pulled at her dress, attempting to free the hem of her skirt from the thorns.
“Please, allow me.” Royce bent down on one knee and carefully pried the angry thorns away from the delicate fabric.
“Do hurry,” Della whispered, placing her hand lightly on Royce’s shoulder for balance.
“Then stay still,” Royce quietly reprimanded her.
Della tried to remain as still as possible, but it was quite hard, panicked as she was for fear that someone would find them together and alone.
“There. Nothing a visit to Madame Delphine could not fix,” Royce said as he removed the last thorn.
Her gaze followed the gentle drag of his hands upward over her skirt until they settled on her waist, their eyes meeting. Della cleared her throat and quickly stepped backward out of Royce’s reach, smoothing down her dress as best she could.
“Thank you,” Della said softly.
“May I inquire about what you are going out here?” Royce asked as he stood and dusted the dirt off his pants.
“I was not spying, if that is what you are thinking. I came out here to escape from the crowd and was about ready to go back when I heard footsteps, so I hid.”
“Where is Aden?” Royce looked around. “If he left you out here alone, I shall have to have a word with him.”
“He is not to blame. I told him I wanted to remain out here, and I assured him I would be fine. At least he seems to trust that I know my own mind.”
“So, you are safe out here…alone?”
“I am in a garden at the Bellamy’s Ball! What have I to fear out here?” Della held her arms wide, gesturing to their surroundings. “Honestly! Do you think I am so incapable of taking care of myself that I need someone to always watch over me?”
“Someone should.”
“I am not your responsibility, Your Grace. You are not my husband. I am not your wife. Nor am I some child in need of reprimanding, and I refuse to be treated as such. Especially not from a man who has an understanding with another woman and thinks me nothing more than a temporary lapse in judgement!”
Della stepped around Royce and was about to break into a run when her foot snagged on a tree root, causing her to stumble. Her hands instinctively shot out to break the fall, but before she hit the ground, she felt Royce’s arms wrap around her.
The air left Royce’s lungs with a great whoosh, his back hitting the ground with a dull thud as Della fell on top of him. Her knee landing hard between his legs, coming perilously close to injuring parts he would prefer to remain intact.
“You were saying?” Royce asked, confused why Della’s angry gaze ignited an unexplainable surge of excitement within him. He shook his head and inhaled deeply, attempting to ignore his odd reaction to Della’s obvious irritation. “Now, if it is not too much trouble, would you be so kind as to remove your knee from its current location?”
“Oh!” Upon realizing the harm she had narrowly avoided causing, Della’s anger seemed to dissipate almost instantly. Trying to distance herself, she placed her hands on his chest to push herself up.
Bright light from the moon shone down through the branches of the trees in distorted rays, casting a dreamlike halo of light around them. The inviting scent from their earlier encounter still clung to her, holding his senses captive. In one swift motion, Royce sat up and repositioned Della onto his lap, pulling her legs comfortably to the side.
Unable to hold back any longer, he gently cupped her face in his hands and planted a tender kiss on her lips, causing an intense longing to well up inside him.
And when he deepened the kiss, Della mirrored his movements, their tongues advancing and retreating, much like his fencing matches.
Royce was so consumed by the feel of Della’s heartbeat pulsing against his lips as he trailed a line of soft kisses down the slender column of her neck, that he disregarded the sounds coming from the bushes.
It should have made him instantly aware of how easily someone could stumble upon them in such a compromising position, but his senses had abandoned him.
Della gasped and pulled away, looking at their surroundings. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard nothing,” Royce said, ignoring the sound as he attempted to pull Della back to finish what they had started.
Della poked him hard in the chest.
“Ow! What was that for?” Royce idly rubbed the now tender spot.
“That was for trying to kiss me again, and this,” she said, smacking him on the chest, “is for kissing me the first time.”
Royce looked at Della, the color still high in her cheeks. What reason could he give for kissing her when he could not understand the reason himself? It left him questioning his own actions. Clearing his throat, he removed Della from his lap and stood.
With a gentle yet firm grip, he reached out for Della’s hands, effortlessly lifting her up, when she drew in a sharp breath.
“Are you all right?”
“Perfectly.” Della straightened her spine and took a step, but collapsed, letting out a small cry.
Royce quickly grabbed Della and swept her into his arms. “You are hurt,” he said with concern. “Why did you not mention it before?”
“Thank you for that obvious observation, but your temporary lapse in judgement does not need your help—I will be fine. So, if you would kindly put me down, I will see myself back in the ballroom.”
Royce cringed as she threw his words back in his face a second time. He understood why Della was angry and he had regretted those words as soon as he had spoken them, knowing she was behind the tree.
He had tried to assure Miss Putnam there was nothing going on between him and Della. But the kiss they just shared may have well tested the veracity of that statement.
“You can hardly stand, let alone walk. Therefore, I will carry you back.”
“You most assuredly will not, sir!”
“I cannot keep my title as a gentleman if I were to leave a damsel in distress to fend for herself.”
“I am not a damsel, nor am I in distress.” Della huffed, crossing her arms. “Put me down!”
“No.” Not giving her a chance to argue further, Royce stalked back toward the house with Della in his arms. He could not go straight through the ballroom—that would cause an entirely different set of problems—so he circled around to the front.
Several heads looked in their direction as Royce turned the corner with Della in his arms. She took notice, and he tightened his hold on her as she curled into his chest, attempting to hide her face.
“Royce! What happened?” Aden asked, running over to them as Royce sent a footman to fetch Della’s carriage
“I…uh…” Della looked at Royce for help.
“She tripped and sprained her ankle. Would you be so kind as to retrieve Tilly? Tell her Della is waiting in the carriage.” Royce looked directly at Aden, ignoring other offers of help.
Aden went to find Tilly and a few moments later, the footman announced that the carriage had arrived. Royce carried Della over and placed her on the seat, being careful not to bump her ankle.
“Wait here. I will go in and help Aden find Tilly.”
“I make no promises.”
Royce leaned in so only she could hear. “You will stay here, Della, or I will tie you to the seat.”
“I would like to see you try,” Della whispered angrily, meeting his eyes in a challenge.
Royce rolled his eyes and told the footman he was to stand guard. And under no circumstance was he to let Miss Rowntree leave the carriage.
“Poor dear,” Tilly said, patting Della gently on the knee as the carriage rumbled over the cobbled street. “Lord Aynesworth said you tripped and sprained your ankle, and that His Grace carried you to the carriage,” she sighed. “His Grace is ever the gentleman. How fortunate for you he was there to help in your time of need.”
“Fortunate indeed.” Della smiled at her aunt.
The carriage hit a bump in the road, causing Della to grit her teeth as pain radiated up her leg.
“Are you well?” Tilly asked.
“I am. My ankle is a little tender at the moment.”
Tilly nodded. “Do not worry. We will have you home to rest in no time, dear.”
Della let her head fall back on the cushioned seat and watched the flickering candles in the lampposts as they went by. Despite her best efforts, she could not make sense of Royce’s confusing behavior.
Her thoughts flashed back to the moment Royce had swept her into his arms. She had been furious with him, but she could not deny how safe she had felt. How he had pulled her closer when she tried to hide her face from curious onlookers.
Although she relished the sensation of being held by him, the touch of his lips on hers, and the way her heart skipped a beat when he was close, she did not want his attention solely because of a misplaced sense of obligation.
Maybe she should accept an offer from a kind gentleman—if she received another one—who she could share a friendship with. Someone that could bring a smile to her face, even when love was absent.
If she found such a person, Royce would be free from the agreement he had made with her father.
Della angrily swiped at her tears as they fell. She knew it was time to move on…before any more of her heart became irreparably damaged.