Page 25 of The Marquis' Game of Seduction
He shook his head. Strangely, his stomach clenched now with a feeling of shame. That night, both Judith and Doctor Miller had been privy to Colin’s rather reckless behavior around the governess. He’d carried her into his bedroom, splayed her on his own bed. Surely, they thought ill of him. And Colin had worked terribly hard throughout the past years of his life to ensure that nobody thought ill of him…
“Good night, sweet Rose,” Colin finally said from the doorway. He tucked back into the hallway, his eyes remaining on her face for as long as he dared. Then, he stepped further away and clicked the door closed. He inhaled slowly. He felt the weight of the massive mansion around him, heavy upon his shoulders. He reminded himself of his incredible commitment to his title, to his country.
He couldn’t stay in memories of this long-lost girl forever.
Finally, he turned back down the hallway and walked slowly, forlornly, back toward his own bedroom. In a strange, achy part of his brain, he wondered if he would always be cursed to sleep in his bed alone, if he would ever turn over and find the loving arms of a woman beside him. But yet again, he cursed this thought, remembering where it had got him last time.
He needed to boil down the walls that he’d built around his heart. He needed to make sure that Rose never learned of the strange nature of that night.
If she ever learned what had happened, the results could very well destroy him—body, mind, and spirit.
Chapter 13
Rose was ordinarily a wild sleeper. She sometimes found herself seconds from dipping off the side of her bed in the morning, her eyes wide open and her heart pumping. Her sister Carrie had told her frequently at the orphanage that she’d saved her from leaping off the side and tumbling into the stone floor below. And sometimes, Carrie hadn’t got to her in time and had found her crumpled in a heap, after tossing and turning into her waking state.
But this was all different that morning after the incident. On this morning, Rose could sense that she hadn’t done very much tossing and turning. She blinked awake and found her hands stretched over her chest and her back straight across the all-too-sterile and flat mattress.
She moaned slightly as a headache overtook her brain. It felt similar to the way a shadow placed across the ground beneath a tree—it extended out so far, further still than the tree was even tall. In this way, the headache had a power over her that, momentarily, made her forget who she was.
“It’s okay. You’re all right.”
This voice rang out over Rose’s head. Rose furrowed her brow in a moment of shock. She hardly remembered showing anyone where her bedroom was, let alone guiding anywhere there the night before.
What had happened the night before? And what time was it? She felt all groggy and strange, like she was stepping into someone else’s dream and hadn’t yet been told the rules.
Suddenly, a hand covered her hand, atop her chest. Rose turned her head to the side to blink into the eyes of Anna, that beautiful saint-like servant. Anna gave her a worried smile, clearly aware that Rose could see her and was responding to her.
“There she is. I was worried you wouldn’t awaken till afternoon,” Anna said.
This startled Rose. “Afternoon? What time is it?”
“Oh, darling, it doesn’t matter,” Anna said.
“Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!” Rose cried. She tried to lurch up from her pillow, but Anna managed to hold her down, pressing her hands on either of her shoulders.
“Darling, really,” Anna said. “You took quite the spill. Rumor has it you haven’t been conscious for a long, long time. Now, it’s only ten-thirty, so I wouldn’t worry yourself so…”
“Ten-thirty!” Rose cried. “Why, I’m meant to be with Duncan by now. Where on earth is he? He needs—he needs me…”
Now, she tried to crumple up, fighting against Anna’s grip. But Anna held her fast and pressed her hard once more. Rose let out a little whimper. It felt as though her head was being pressed down by an enormous rock. She dragged her hand out from beneath Anna’s hand and tapped at her skull. With each impact, she felt her head ache sharply, as though someone was prodding her with a thick stick.
“What on earth happened?” she muttered. “You mentioned that I haven’t been conscious for several hours? But haven’t I just been here? I remember going to bed at a rather reasonable hour.”
Anna’s eyes flashed around. Rose felt very conscious of the fact that Anna was keeping something from her. She furrowed her brows once more, and her heart thudded somewhere near her throat.
“Anna, I truly don’t have the time for whatever game this is,” Rose said, although she immediately regretted sounding so cruel. “Please. Inform me of the goings on of the past few hours or I swear I’ll—“
“You left your bed for some reason,” Anna blurted. Her eyes looked strangely wet, like she really didn’t wish to be saying the words that flung from her mouth. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m meant not to tell you what occurred. It’s only that—I can’t imagine how confused you must be. And I would want to know if I was in your shoes just now.”
“I left my bed?” Rose demanded.
“There was a storm…” Anna began.
Slowly, Rose nodded. “Of course. I always leave my bed when there’s a storm. Now this is starting to sound a bit more like me. You see, I’ve always been rather anxious when it comes to storms…”
“But why would you go out into the night like that?” Anna demanded. Her eyes looked strangely wounded.
“Into the night?” Rose asked.
