Page 24 of The Penitent Duke
Rosalind lifted her chin, feeling herself tremble inwardly as the sharp looks of thetonsurrounded her like a thousand glittering knives. In the last few days, news about her brother’s wrongdoing had marched its way through society but, unfortunately for them all, had now so many other things added to it, it made him sound as though he were nothing but a rogue rather than simply being a gentleman who had made one foolish mistake.
Rosalind did not know what to do other than to attempt to endure it – and that meant making her way through Lord Falconer’s townhouse and doing her best to smile and nod at anyone who deigned to look at her. It was meant to be a most enjoyable soiree and Rosalind had no doubt that many a gentleman and lady would find the evening quite wonderful whereas she would, alas, find it quite difficult indeed. What made it worse was that Lady Eleanor was not present this evening, having already accepted an invitation to another soiree so, much to Rosalind’s disappointment, she was quite alone. Her parents were present, but it would not do her much good if she stayed hanging onto her mother’s arm all evening! She had to show thetonthatshewas still worthy of respect and consideration, even if they did not believe her.
For all the good it will do me,Rosalind thought to herself, dropping her gaze to the floor for a moment or two.I do not know if there is anyone here this evening who will even speak with me!
“Lady Rosalind, is it not?”
Rosalind looked up quickly, her eyes fixing to the gentleman who had spoken to her, only for them to round as she took in not only the Duke of Strathmore seated at a card table but also Lord Westlake, the gentleman who had spoken to her. “Good evening, Lord Westlake,” she managed to say, surprise making her words a little halted. “I – I did not expect to see you here.”
“Are you not glad that Iamhere?” he asked, grinning at her and sounding a good deal more jovial than Rosalind had expected, given their last conversation. “Now, will you not join us for a game of cards, Lady Rosalind? As you can see, we have a seat here that is vacant.”
Rosalind opened her mouth to answer, only for a slight snort from another gentleman at the table to stop her. She looked at him directly, seeing him speaking out of the side of his mouth to the gentleman next to him, only for his eyes to then dart back towards her and for his words tostop suddenly. He flushed and then dropped his gaze, though a hint of a smile remained playing about on his lips.
Fire erupted in Rosalind’s face and she looked away. “I do not think I shall, but I thank you for the invitation.”
“And you, Lord Butterworth, will keep your mouth closed about Lady Rosalind, unless you wish for your behaviour to be called out here, in front ofallthe other guests.”
At this, Rosalind’s face burned all the hotter though, she recognized, there came an appreciation for what the Duke of Strathmore had said. She was not only a little surprised at his defense of her but also rather pleased and, truth be told, a little grateful. The Duke had not been required to say anything at this juncture but had chosen to defend her, had chosen to prevent the mocking that might soon follow and for that, Rosalind was grateful.
Lord Westlake looked at her curiously, then glanced to the Duke.
Rosalind saw the questions in his eyes but did not answer them, choosing instead to remain silent just as the Duke of Strathmore cleared his throat gruffly and then gestured to a chair.
“If you wish to join us, none of us have any objections.” He let his lips lift just a little perhaps at the astonishment that came into Rosalind’s expression. “You are welcome to play.”
“I am sure you shall do a good deal better than your brother,” Lord Butterworth muttered, looking somewhat irritated as the Duke shot him a dark look. “Ladies are most welcome to play, Lady Rosalind, if you wish to join us.”
Recognizing that to play would bring about yet more whispers from theton– for they would say that she was just as prone to gambling as her brother, no doubt – Rosalind declined as graciously as she could. “I thank you but cards hold no interest for me.”
“Are you quite certain?” Lord Westlake asked, beaming at her as though simply by his welcoming smile, he might change her mind. “We would all be glad to have you join us.”
“Could you not sit with us all and merely observe the game?”
Rather surprised at the Duke’s encouragement – though she quickly recalled that they were meant to be spending a little more time with each other and knowing one another a little better – Rosalind chose to sit down in the seat in between the Duke and Lord Westlake, finding herself a little relieved that she had some company instead of none at all.
“I thank you.” The Duke offered her a look but not a smile. “You are without Lady Eleanor this evening, I see.”
“Yes, you are.” Lord Westlake leaned a little closer to Rosalind, seemingly vying for her attention which, in turn, made Rosalind a little uncertain of him. “Though it is just as well that you haveourfine company then, is it not?” He laughed at this and Rosalind smiled briefly, though she did not answer. Lord Westlake was, she considered, acting in a manner which she found a little strange. It was as though they had been acquainted for a long time and that they knew one another a good deal better than they truly did. The Duke of Strathmore, on the other hand, wore his usual disposition. His lips were pulled flat, his brows were furrowed and he was glancing at everyone with a shadow in his eyes, as though he did not want them to linger in his company.
And this, despite the fact that he had invited her to sit with them.
Mayhap he truly does wish to try and make things a little improved between us,Rosalind considered, silently as the game began.Even with his reputation, I can see that this is something to be considered. He has grasped what I have said to him and clearly is intent on pursuing this connection.
“You are already acquainted with Lord Westlake, then? And the Duke also, it seems?” Lord Butterworth asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked to Rosalind. “But neither gentleman has been in society at the same time as you, have they?”
Rosalind sharpened her gaze just a little, disliking Lord Butterworth’s interest and his suggestion hidden deep in the seemingly innocent question. With every intention of doing so, she was sure, Lord Butterworth was insinuating that a connection had been there beforehand, a somewhat spurious connection mayhap – and that only because of her brother. Evidently, even thoughhehad been the one at fault, she was now seen in the same light, as someone who might have improper connections with gentlemen.
“I have only just recently become acquainted with Lord Westlake,” she said, as sweetly as she could though by the way that the Duke’s head twisted towards Lord Butterworth, Rosalind was quite sure that the gentleman was not pleased at the question Lord Butterworth had directed towards her. “And I was only introduced to the Duke this Season.”
“I see.” Lord Butterworth glanced at the Duke and then looked away, keeping his smile in place though his face was now quite red. “And you are both acquainted already, of course, given that Lady Pearl was your sister, Lord Westlake, and your betrothed, Your Grace.” In saying this, he looked to the Duke and to Lord Westlake only for his eyes to round at the furious glare which the Duke sent in his direction. “I – I… that is to say… oh, Lord Ulminster, is it not your turn to play?”
Rosalind swallowed tightly, her whole-body trembling with the sudden awareness of a new and astonishing connection between the Duke of Strathmore and Lord Westlake. Lady Pearl, she knew, had been the Duke’s betrothed – though he had never spoken of the lady to Rosalind as yet – but she had never imagined that Lord Westlake would have a connection also! She dropped her gaze to her hands, trying her best to breathe calmly and to keep an outwardly peaceful demeanor while, inwardly, she was a sea of tumult.
“Thank you, Lord Butterworth, I think that is quite enough.” Lord Westlake was no longer smiling, no longer jovial. Instead, he seemed to have pulled into himself, his shoulders rounding, his jaw setting tight. “As I have just finished saying to the Duke himself, I have every intention of enjoying the Season this year. Given that it has been some years since my sister lost her life at the hands of wicked men, I should very much like now to set the past where it belongs and move ahead instead of lingering behind. Might you refrain from reminding me of such a painful thing? I would be very grateful to you for your silence.”
Lord Butterworth swallowed hard, now going paper white as he nodded. “But of course. Forgive me.”
“It is forgiven.” Lord Westlake glanced to the Duke. “From myself, at least.”
