Page 27 of The Penitent Duke
“Call what?” Flummoxed, Lucian spread out his hands, aware of the flickering anger in his chest. “I do not understand what it is you think I did.”
“You demanded that she give you an answer, did you not? You spoke to her alone, in a quiet corner of the hallway and when others appeared, you informed them that you were having aprivateconversation with the lady and practically demanded that they leave!” Lady Eleanor’s jaw tightened for a moment as she paused. “What did you think would happen if not for the fact that she would have no other choice but to accept you?”
Lucian blinked furiously, his chest suddenly heaving as he realized what Lady Eleanor meant. He had never once intended for Lady Rosalind to feel pressured into accepting him but in that moment, as they had stood in the hallway, he had felt the heaviness, the weight of her decision resting on him. He was eager to ascertain, at that moment, whether she could bring herself to accept him, his heart thundering with an intensity born from a consideration he had, as yet, declined to entertain. “That… that was not my intention, truly,” he rasped, awash with mortification as he began to see what had happened through Lady Rosalind’s eyes. “I did not think –”
“That is your main issue, Your Grace,” Lady Eleanor interrupted, coming closer to him, her face flushed, eyes narrowed. “You donotthink.”
She turned on her heel and began to walk away, leaving Lucian and Lord Radcliffe standing together. After a moment, Lord Radcliffe gave Lucian a nod and then hurried after Lady Eleanor, leaving Lucian to stand alone.
Lucian closed his eyes, a tingling rushing through him. He heard the conversation and laughter from others around him, feeling it jarring against him. He had not thought when it came to that moment, had not even hesitated to speak just as bluntly as he had always done – and had not thought of the consequences. Lady Eleanor had needed to explain it all to him and even now, he was struggling to take it all in.
If only I had not looked into her eyes.
Turning away from the crowd, he made his way along the side of the church and into the gardens beyond, finding a solitary bench hidden amongst the bushes and flowers. Sitting down heavily, he rubbed one hand over his eyes, then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he groaned aloud.
The memory came back to him and, this time, Lucian could not help but recall it. He remembered everything he had said… and what had shifted within him thereafter.
“It is not grief but guilt,”he had said, seeing her eyes widen just a little, her mouth a fraction ajar. “Grief was there, but the guilt I feel will linger with me every day of my life, I am sure of it. Do not misunderstand me, Lady Rosalind. I tell you this not because I want your understanding nor your compassion. I tell you because Lady Eleanor is right to say that you must understand what it is you are stepping into.”
Thathad been the moment he had seen something change in Lady Rosalind’s expression. Her eyes, searching his, had softened, a gentleness – even a tenderness – beginning to sweep through them and Lucian’s heart had instantly warmed to it. He had seen her as though for the first time, taking in the green of her eyes, the red of her copper hair, the sweetness of her lips and the kindness in her gaze and something in him hadyearnedfor her. All at once, the desire to sweep her up into his arms, to pull her close and to feel the nearness of her had been overpowering and it had taken all of Lucian’s inner strength not to do that very thing. His whole body had flushed hot, the longing for her closeness still warring within him and it had been that which had forced him into action, which had made him practically demand that she give him her answer. It had been unreasonable, he had known, but all the same, those words had come to him and he had spoken them aloud – not thinking for a moment of what she would feel nor what others might think.
“That was somewhat foolish.” Muttering aloud to himself, Lucian rubbed at his eyes, sat up and leaned his head back, blowing out a long, slow breath. He had not imagined what Lady Rosalind herself might have felt in that moment. Surprisingly, he had felt a great swell of relief when she had told Lord Westlake that she had just accepted Lucian’s proposal but, now looking back on it, Lucian realized just how little he had given thought to her.
Letting out a groan, Lucian shook his head and closed his eyes. This was most unlike him, for why should he care about what others thought of him? Why should he care about Lady Rosalind’s feelings? He had not done so before now so why, at this juncture, was he evidently so troubled by it?
The memory of looking down into her eyes swept over him again and Lucian shuddered, the sentiments that had long lain dormant within him now stirred to life anew—and Lucian loathed them. He wanted to break them apart, to shatter them into pieces and then crumble them into dust. He would not,couldnot let himself think on any feelings of interest or, even worse, the minutest affection. Not after what had happened withLady Pearl, not after whathewas responsible for. That was to be his punishment, was it not? A life lived without happiness, without joy or contentment. Hewantedthis, wanted to bear the heavy burden of guilt and shame for the rest of his days for it was what he truly believed he deserved.
Which was why such feelings were so dreadfully unwelcome.
“Strathmore – Lucian!”
Lucian lifted his head, astonished to hear his Christian name being called. “Radcliffe?” Getting to his feet, he strode forward as Lord Radcliffe hurried towards him, his face white. “Whatever is the matter? Is it Lady Anna?”
Lord Radcliffe grasped his arm. “No, it is not your cousin. It is Lady Rosalind.”
Lucian blinked in surprise, seeing Lord Radcliffe’s drawn expression. “Lady Rosalind?” he repeated, as Lord Radcliffe nodded, then began to hurry away, practically pulling Lucian along with him. “What – what has happened?”
“An accident,” Lord Radcliffe replied, as Lucian’s breathing grew rapid. “Lady Eleanor has only just heard, a messenger was sent to tell her. Thank heavens we were still here so that I could inform you!”
Fright began to spread through Lucian’s body, his mind whirring with all the dread possibilities of what might have happened. A vision of Lady Pearl flashed through his mind, remembering her smile, recalling the brightness of her eyes and how she had laughed as she had followed after him on her horse. Lady Rosalind was not glad to be engaged to him as Lady Pearl had been but he feared now that she too might have suffered injury, just as Lady Pearl had done.
“Hurry!” Lord Radcliffe exclaimed, ushering Lucian into the waiting carriage with Lady Eleanor already sitting there, her mother beside her. “We will all go together.”
Lucian nodded, barely able to speak. His throat was constricting, his chest tight and heat behind his eyes. What had happened to Lady Rosalind? And could it be, in any way, because of her new connection to him?
Chapter Twelve
“Whatever are you doing?”
Having let out a yelp that startled her mother, Rosalind tried to smile as she set down her embroidery. “I am attempting to embroider, Mama, but I confess that my thoughts are elsewhere. I think I have pricked my finger on two occasions now!”
Lady Fairmont smiled gently, concern glimmering in her eyes. “My dear, are you sure you are well? You have had such a great weight placed upon you by your betrothal to the Duke of Strathmore which, I might say, I know full well that you did not truly desire to do.” She lifted one eyebrow as Rosalind let out a slow breath, nodding as she looked away.
“I did it for Emilia’s sake, Mama.”
“That is a good reason, my dear, but you did not have to sacrifice your happiness for her sake,” came the reply, spoken kindly but with clear worry in Lady Fairmont’s voice. “You could have taken your chances elsewhere! I know that your brother has been immensely foolish but there was still a chance for you to have found a connection elsewhere, my dear. It did not have to be him.”
Rosalind closed her eyes, tears burning behind them. “Itdidhave to be him, Mama,” she answered, a little brokenly. “I did not tell you for I did not want you to be angry with the Duke – and nor did I tell my father – but the Duke coerced me into accepting, tying me to him in a way that meant I had no other choice but to accept.” Opening her eyes, she took in her mother’s expression, shock sending white into her cheeks, her mouth a little ajar. “The Duke spoke with me at length in the hallway and I did not realise that we were alone until it was too late. Thereafter, Lord Westlake found us, as well as two other ladies, and the Duke stated that he was having a private conversation with me and did not want to be interrupted!” A tear dropped to her cheek but she dashed it away quickly. “What else was there for me to do but accept him?”
