Page 12 of The Marquis' Game of Seduction
That figure behind the curtain? That hadn’t been Duncan.
In fact, that figure had been a young girl. Her hair had whipped out behind her like a flag. And she’d scampered with long legs deep into the darkness, her nightgown rushing out behind her.
What on earth?
Rose had been told that Duncan was the only child in the house.
Perhaps this other girl was meant to be hidden? Was she ill? Was she Duncan’s sister—someone that Duncan had failed to mention, or had been told not to speak about? Perhaps that was also ridiculous. Duncan certainly didn’t seem like the sort of kid to be able to keep such a thing a secret.
Suddenly, Rose realised she was wasting time. Whoever the girl was, she couldn’t be out of bed at this hour. She pressed forward, racing through the halls after the girl. She was going to get to the bottom of this. And there was no way a ten year old girl could possibly outrun her.
Chapter 6
“Don’t be frightened!” Rose hissed as she bucked through the halls. She flashed her bare feet behind her quickly as she raced, pulsing forward and whipping her hands back and forth as she went. “I’m the governess!” she whispered again, hoping that the sound reached the young girl’s ears. Perhaps she was lurking around the corner, spying on Rose, trying to assess if she should trust her.
Rose stopped short when she turned into another hallway. She dropped her hands to her knees and gasped. “You really are quite fast, aren’t you?” Her eyes danced around the little pass way, hunting for any sign of shadow. But it seemed that the little girl had given her the slip, for now.
Becoming more and more obvious that I’m not going to get much sleep tonight. I’ll be useless to Duncan tomorrow. But it simply can’t be helped.
Rose lurched to the right and passed through another hallway. When she reached the end, she spotted a shadow, flickering around the edge of the moonlight. She sprung forward, her finger pointed, and yelled, “Ah-hah! There you are!”
But when she stopped short, her finger pointed at an enormous individual—the six foot three Marquees of Kensington, who stood stoic and proud and domineering over the top of her. In fact, the Marquees himself was still moving when she found him—thus bringing his hand across her pointed finger and grazing the rest of her hand. Rose’s heart lurched into her throat.
She’d touched him. The Marquees.
Slowly, Rose’s smile dribbled away. Her finger dropped to her side as the Marquees, himself, stopped short. The Marquee scowled, his thick eyebrows dropping over his eyes. His look was both puzzled and angry, something that seemed very much in-line with the Marquees’ greater personality. Due to Rose’s previous life at the orphanage, she found herself, once again, preparing for some kind of blow over the face.
But instead, the Marquees decided upon a more verbal punishment.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he demanded. His voice was far louder than Rose was currently accustomed to, having been only whispering to the little girl in the halls. “Awake so late and so far away from your own bedroom?”
Rose reminded herself once more that she was no longer the meek and somber girl at the orphanage. She’d been hired for this position because she was grand at this sort of job, and she’d only remained out of bed because she felt it was the proper thing to do. There had been a girl—a girl alone. She couldn’t, in her right mind, return to bed without doing something about it.
She struggled to impart this to the Marquees.
“I’m terribly sorry if I frightened you, my Lord,” she began—yet knew very soon this was the incorrect manner in which to verbalise this.
“Frighten? Don’t be ridiculous,” he declared. “You didn’t frighten me. I demand answers, Miss Hollingsworth. Answers, and now.”
Rose stuttered. Her throat felt like it was on the verge of closing. “I awoke due to a noise,” she finally uttered.
The Marquees kind of shrugged at this, as though it wasn’t enough. “There are plenty of noises in this old, drafty house. You should return to bed.”
“No. No. You don’t understand,” Rose stuttered. “There was a noise, and I felt sure it was Duncan. Out of bed, with that active imagination of his? I was frightened he might get himself into trouble so late at night. And I really didn’t wish for him to do something that might awaken either you or Judith, or even the rest of the staff, for that matter…”
The Marquees’ dark eyes traced over Rose’s frame. She could feel him assessing her, and she dropped hers toward the ground, suddenly nervous. Goodness, he was handsome, muscular. She felt a strange, almost violent desire to throw herself upon him, to feel the coarse hairs over his chest and the cut of his abdomen…
These were thoughts she’d never had before in her life.
But instead of doing all of that—something she would never do, not in a million years—she inhaled sharply and said, “But silly me. I hadn’t a clue there was a second child here at the estate. It must have been Duncan’s sister, yes?”
Colin took a slight step back, which cast his face in moonlight. Rose watched the story of this fresh information play out over his face. He seemed to consider what to say next for a long time—so long that Rose felt she might go wild with apprehension.
“I’m sorry. You said something about Duncan having a sister?” he asked. He sounded incredulous.
“Yes. A little girl,” Rose insisted.
This time, his face was all scrunched up in a manner that reminded Rose of the way he’d looked at her that morning while he’d been on horseback: dangerous, dark, reproachful. His nostrils flared as he spat, “I’m terribly sorry. But the only child in this mansion at this time is Duncan. And it will only be Duncan for the foreseeable future. Perhaps you’re tired from all the travel and the new position? I imagine that you let your imagination get away with you, especially due to all that drivel and conversation you had with Duncan this evening…”
