Page 31 of Wicked Rivals
“No, not my husband. He rescued me from hell, but he also taught me strength and how to be my own woman. He was my white knight.”
“He sounds like much more than that. Any knight who teaches a damsel to wield a sword and defend herself is a man I can respect. But if he wasn’t the one who controlled you, then who was?” Ashton’s eyes narrowed. “Your brothers?”
“They would never! They often took the beatings to spare me.”
Clarity sharpened Ashton’s eyes. “Ah. Your father.”
She didn’t respond. He could read her face and the pain she’d spent years trying to hide.
“It’s a story I’ve heard far too often,” Ashton continued. “The weak hurt those who are weaker so they can feel strong. No man should ever do that to a woman, let alone his own child.”
He reached up and brushed a damp lock of hair back from her face. She ducked at the touch but didn’t retreat. She felt less threatened than before. He’d echoed those words Lord Melbourne had said the night he’d met her, and she didn’t think Ashton would lie about that. There was an earnestness in his voice that made her believe him.
Ashton brushed a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. There was a myriad of questions she saw flash in his eyes before he finally spoke. “What if we played this charade for a week? If you find it not too disagreeable, we could continue on for a while longer to give me more time to assuage my mother’s incessant need to see me settled down.”
“A week? I suppose I could suffer that long, but I’m not sure I’ll wish to continue this beyond that.”
He dropped his hands from her hair. The loss of that soothing stroke surprised her, as did it when he let her down from where she’d been pinned against the wall. She hadn’t noticed how relaxed his touch had made her feel until he stepped back away from her.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll have my solicitor contact yours to start returning the Southern Star company to you. I’ll check on your supper. Please stay here. I can’t have you running about my house half-naked. It’s likely to give my mother a case of the vapors if I give her any more shocks tonight.” He was the cool, collected baron once again.
He left her alone in his bedchamber. The chill that his kisses had melted minutes ago soon returned. She stayed put, leaning against the wall, her mind racing, her heart beating wildly. What was she going to do?
The door opened a few minutes after Ashton was gone, and Lady Lennox slipped inside.
“Lady Lennox, I am so sorry to have met you like this,” she apologized.
Regina waved a hand. “I have no doubt that whatever brought you to our house like this is my son’s fault and I’m the one who should be apologizing. My daughter explained to me you were discovered half-dead on our doorstep, covered in mud and water.”
Blushing, Rosalind nodded. “I was forced to walk a few miles through the storm.”
“Heavens, child! I’m almost afraid to ask what role my son played in all of this, but I must know.” She led Rosalind over to one of the two chairs by the fire and ushered her into one before taking the other.
Rosalind fiddled with the lace of her borrowed nightgown. “I don’t wish to upset you.”
Regina pursed her lips before speaking. “Please, tell me. It cannot be as bad as what my fertile imagination has supplied.”
Where to begin?Rosalind tried to ignore the sudden throb of a headache that built behind her eyes. She sensed Lady Lennox was far more observant than her son believed. She wouldn’t simply fall for some ruse of his intent to marry out of the blue. It would be best if she stuck closer to the truth.
“Lord Lennox, in some Machiavellian attempt to punish me for competing with his business, has frozen my accounts, stalled my credits and bought my debts. He took possession of my townhouse in London. I used the last of my money to come here, only to be robbed by a highwayman after my coach fractured a wheel. I was then forced to work for my supper at an inn before I walked here through the storm.” There, she’d said it all, but the headache didn’t go away.
Regina’s face was ashen. “Then…but…you’re not marrying my son after all that, are you?” she asked, a little worried. “If I’d just endured all that, I’d want tokillhim, not marry him.”
Despite her black mood, Rosalind chuckled. “Yes, that isexactlymy sentiment towards Lennox, but the damned fool believes he’ll marry me. He is quite used to getting his way in things, as you know.”
“Of course,” Regina murmured in agreement, her eyes still wide with concern. “Oh, my dear, what a mess this is. I suppose it is my duty to save you from him, seeing as how it is my fault he is the way he is.”
“In what way, Lady Lennox?” Rosalind didn’t have any idea what Ashton’s mother was talking about.
The older woman sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the fire, or rather staring through the fire and seeing something beyond it that no one else could.
“My two sons have the two worst parts of their father in them. Rafe has all the love of vices, women, gambling, racing, and Ashton all the cold, power-hungry determination to control the world. Despite my efforts, I could not remove those qualities from them. Their failures are my own, I’m afraid.” Ashton’s mother wiped one of her eyes and blinked.
“I don’t believe Lennox is the sort of man who would let anyone shape his future but himself. You mustn’t blame yourself for his stubbornness.” It was strange to feel herself allied with the mother of her sworn enemy.
Regina gave a watery chuckle. “Stubbornness? That’s an awfully polite term for it. Let me guess, you have brothers?”
Rosalind grinned. “Three of them. All as stubborn as your son, perhaps even more so because of their Scottish blood, which I can attest is far worse.”
