Page 52 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
“My uncle has what you need. As his wife, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll be mother to nobility. All the world will be at your feet.” He stood, knowing that he must leave while he had the will—for the sight of her was breaking his heart.
“Though I cannot wholeheartedly approve, I wish you well, and I hope you shall bring some happiness to my uncle. He deserves that, at least.”
She blinked and frowned, her countenance all confusion. “But, Benedict, I came here to tell you.” She rose, beseeching him with her eyes. “It’s you I care for. The duke means nothing to me. It was merely expedient.”
Her words only confirmed Benedict’s worst thoughts. She’d played with his uncle’s heart shamelessly, and all for material gain.
Perhaps, in time, I’ll be able to look at you, to sit at the same table and not feel my soul crushed.
Turning on his heel, he ran from her, refusing to hear as she called his name.
“Benedict!”No matter how Rosamund called after him, he didn’t
turn, and her stride was no match for his.
At last, a stitch in her side obliged her to stop.
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Can’t you see!” But her gasped words didn’t carry to his ears.
He hadn’t stayed to hear an explanation.
Would it have mattered if he had?
It was true that she’d used him; that she’d lied. Not just the implied untruths of how wealthy she and her mother were, but a more fundamental dishonesty. She’d been willing to marry the duke, hadn’t she?
What if she’d gone through with it and only realized the strength of her feelings for Benedict after the wedding? Would she have enticed him to become her lover, to make up for the lack of love between her and Lord Studborne?
Perhaps she was as awful as he thought her.
She might yet be able to make him listen; tomorrow, when he’d calmed down.
If not?
Ought she to take the duke’s offer? To make the best of this dire situation? The thought filled her with dread, but she hadn’t just herself to think of.
It was all a horrible mess. Because no matter what she told herself, she did love Benedict. But that wasn’t enough. He needed to love her back.
And loving someone meant forgiving them, didn’t it, when they made mistakes?
Wiping her tears, she continued towards the house, slipping in through the kitchen door and quietly climbing the stairs.
Rosamund had considered wakingher mother the night before, but reason had prevailed and she’d made herself remain in her own bed until dawn. Now, she could wait no longer.
She knew what her mother’s sentiment would likely be, but she needed, at least, to unburden her feelings to someone who would care. Her mother would comfort her, as she had when she was little, and Rosamund would know she didn’t face her future alone.
Pushing open the connecting door, Rosamund crossed to the bed. Her mother wasn’t yet awake. Lying on her back, her cheek pressed to the pillow, she looked peaceful.
It was all for you, really, Ma.
Rosamund touched the end of her mother’s long plait of hair. The gold was threaded with silver, but it had been the same as Rosamund’s, years ago. She was sure her mother had been happy once, when she was young. “Wake up, Ma. I’m sorry. I know it’s early.” Rosamund rocked her mother gently.
Rosamund noticed the bottle of laudanum on the nightstand.
Hadn't her mother given it over to her the day before? She’d said the medicine didn’t agree with her, that she was better without.
Besides which, she’d been so full of excitement, chattering away. What could have caused her to be tempted towards them again?
Rosamund shook a little harder. “Ma, the drops have made you sleepy, but I want you to wake up and talk to me. Come on now.”
