Page 14 of The Penitent Duke
Trying to speak was impossible, for the lump that suddenly came into her throat grew so tight, nothing but a squeak came out. Instead, Rosalind closed her eyes and gave her mother a jerky nod.
“That is a good thing, is it not?” Lady Fairmont continued, though when Rosalind opened her eyes to look at her, there was still that same glimmer in her mother’s eyes, as though she was still fighting tears. “To know that you have someone eager to marry you is quite wonderful! You have the chance of having a husband and home of your own now, which is more than we ever expected after what your brother did to ruin himself and bring shame to our family name.”
Lord Fairmont coughed gently, bringing Rosalind’s attention back to him. He smiled gently, his voice calm and quiet. “I want you to know that neither your mother nor I would ever force you to marry,” he said, making a shiver rattle down Rosalind’s spine, seeing the concern in his eyes and wondering where it came from. “This is not something that we will ever demand that you accept. It is your own decision, your own choice. I hope that is clear to you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was weak and unsteady, her free hand now gripping the table as though somehow, that would bring her strength. “Can I ask who it is that wishes to marry me?” For just a moment, her thoughts turned to Lord Radcliffe, wondering if it was he who had taken pity on her and now offered to make her his bride. She would not and could not accept him, however, for she knew how Lady Eleanor felt about the gentleman and, despite her own difficulties, that friendship took precedence.
“My dear, you must take a moment to consider before you respond.” Lady Fairmont pressed Rosalind’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I think I know what your reaction will be and while that is understandable, you must also think about your future.”
This made a frown dart across Rosalind’s forehead. Her mother would not be saying such things if the gentleman who asked about her hand in marriage was entirely acceptable. There must be something wrong, something unacceptable about the man – or, worse still, something that pushed him away from society!
“Who is it?” she asked again, pulling her hand from her mother’s and looking at her father. “Tell me, please!”
Her father nodded, then closed his eyes. “It is the Duke of Strathmore.”
The world around her began to whirl as Rosalind collapsed back in her seat, chest heaving, breathing rapidly. From seemingly far away, she heard her mother’s voice asking if she was well but Rosalind could not answer.The Duke of Strathmore?
Why would he want to wed her? He had been nothing but rude to her at their first introduction and when she had taken her leave of him, Rosalind had quietly determined that she would never again be in his company. What had given him the impression that she would ever want to be by his side again?
“It happened last evening,” her father continued, as her mother took Rosalind’s hand again and murmured comforting words, though Rosalind did not feel in the least bit consoled. “The Duke of Strathmore came to me, introduced himself – very badly, I must say – and then requested your hand in marriage! I confess, I could not quite believe what I heard!”
“Nor I,” Lady Fairmont murmured as Rosalind let her head drop forward, weakness now pouring into every single part of her frame as she battled against both fury and fear. Fury at his audacity in eventhinkingthat this was something she might consider and fear that she would be encouraged to wed him, despite her father’s promise to her.
“It would be a good match,” her mother said into Rosalind’s ear. “I know that he is not what you think a gentleman ought to be – indeed, your father and I both agree that he has nothing to recommend him but I fear… ” She trailed off and, heart aching, Rosalind looked at her mother.
“You fear that I will have no other choice,” she croaked as Lady Fairmont nodded. “Because of my brother’s wrongdoing, the chances of me finding a suitable match grow slimmer by the day.”
“And he is a Duke,” her father added, as though Rosalind was unaware of it. “You would be elevating your own standing and that of our family if you were to accept him.”
The thought of standing up beside the Duke of Strathmore and making her vows was so repulsive to Rosalind her stomach lurched violently and she put one hand to her mouth. A chill ran over her skin, running from the top of her head all the way to the soles of her feet and, much to her distress, adding to her own sense of sickness. At the very same time, however, she thought of Emilia, seeing her sister now suddenly elevated in society, the sister to a Duchess and recognizing in herself just how much change that might bring, should she consent to the match.
Her stomach lurched.
“Drink some tea, my dear.”
Rosalind reached out to take the teacup that her mother offered, bringing the cup to her lips with trembling hands. She took a sip and let the warmth infuse her, chasing away the cold that lingered there. The shock had not quite washed through her, however, for she still shook a little, still trembled at the thought of being his bride.
“You do not think to accept him.”
Looking to her father, Rosalind shook her head, trying to rid herself of all thoughts of her sister. “Father, have you heard of his reputation? After my introduction to him last evening, I found myself both insulted and appalled at his behaviour towards me. He was not considerate or kind but was brash and forceful with his questions, to the point that his own close friend was embarrassed!” Her eyes closed as hot tears sprang to them. “The rest of the evening was enjoyable enough but I certainly learned more about the Duke of Strathmore’s reputation! Thetonsay nothing but ill of him and, from what Lord Radcliffe said, I believe that most of what is spoken of him is quite true.”
“He did admit it all to us.”
Surprised, Rosalind opened her eyes and looked at her mother. “I beg your pardon?”
Lady Fairmont lifted her shoulders a little. “He informed us that all of the things thetonsay of him about being ill tempered, disinclined towards company, unkind and rude were all quite true… though he did not say it in such words as that!”
Rosalind’s lips lifted in a rueful smile. “Not quite, though I understand all that he said. It is quite clear to me that the gentleman has no interest in anything and anyone aside from himself and whathedesires or controls.”
“And he now desires you as his bride,” her father said, quietly. “Whether you will accept that or not is entirely up to you, though I should remind you that it will be very difficult indeed to secure a good match this Season, thanks to your brother.” A heavy sigh emitted from his lips. “I apologise for that and sorry now that I must encourage you to accept the match offered, Rosalind, for I highly doubt you will be offered such a thing again.”
Closing her eyes, Rosalind let out a shuddering breath, her whole body trembling violently. The last thing she wanted to do was to accept the offer of marrying the Duke of Strathmore, for he was a gentleman so disagreeable, so dark tempered and ill-mannered that she could not imagine what it would be like to even be in his company for a prolonged period of time, never mind being wed to him! But yet, at the very same time, there came a quiet voice in the back of her mind that told her thatwhat her father had suggested was quite true. She wouldnotbe able to find such a good match again, would not be able to wed to such a high standard – and if she did marry him, then she would become a Duchess and her family’s position would be elevated rather than shamed. Her sister would no longer have fear when it came to stepping out into society. She would be pursued by many, eager now to have a connection to a Duke.
She did not know what to do.
“Do not think that we require an answer from you immediately.” Her mother spoke quickly now, interrupting Rosalind’s silence. “Your father and I understand that this must be a very great shock to you, so we do not want you to rush into an answer.”
“No, indeed not. I apologise if I gave you that impression,” Lord Fairmont added, speaking just as hastily as his wife. “Do not think for a moment that I am waiting here for your answer, for that is not at all my intention. I want you to consider this very carefully, my dear girl, for it is a momentous decision and not one that can be made within only a few minutes.”
