Page 30 of When He Was a Duke
She nodded and then turned away, remembering the handkerchief balled up in her hand. She halted, then turned back toward him. He watched her intently, a worried crease between his brows. “I’m going to keep your handkerchief for the second day in a row.” For the life of her, she couldn’t begin to explain why she did what she did next. She reached into the sleeve of her dress and removed her own hanky. “But I’ll leave you with mine. There’s no need to return it.”
She pressed it into his hand, lingering for a moment to feel the warmth of his skin, before she pulled away and nearly ran out of the rose garden and across the lawn to the house.
Chapter Seven
For his middaybreak, Sebastian took his clandestine gift from Lady Rose, along with bread and cheese, to read under a chestnut tree near the herb garden, away from the others’ chatter. He settled against the low stone wall, stretching his long legs out before him as he tore off a piece of crusty bread. The shade cast a welcome reprieve from the summer heat, its broad leaves rustling softly overhead. A perfect spot for a good read. However, instead of opening his book, his thoughts turned to Lady Rose. Her sudden appearance while he was working had befuddled him. Delighted him too. Which was dangerous.
He suspected she was as drawn to him as he was to her. Other than his family, he had not felt cared for in such a way by any other person. Not ever. The way she tilted her head when he spoke, clearly listening carefully to what he had to say, had moved him. When with Lady Rose, he felt like himself.
How strange.
And what was he to do with these feelings that seemed to have grabbed hold of his heart? He reached inside his pocket to feel the lace of her hanky, then pulled it out to draw in the scent of her perfume. She’d not returned his handkerchief from the day she pricked her finger but he’d thought nothing of it. But clearly she had kept it deliberately. The way his skin had warmed under her touch had unsettled him. So did the craving for more. What did it all mean?
He must set it aside for now. That was all there was to it.
He bowed his head and spoke to his father silently.
I’ll not give up on us, Papa. Nothing will deter me. Not even my own traitorous heart.
He finished his chunk of bread, chasing it with a jar of cold water, then opened his book. However, he was distracted by voices coming from the other side of the stone wall.
“I can’t for the life of me imagine why the lord wants to bring the ball back. After all these years? A masquerade, just like the night Lady Wentworth was killed seems in such poor taste.” That was the voice of Mrs. Carter, the cook.
The other belonged to Mrs. Blythe, the housekeeper. “It’s horrific. I’m desperately worried about Lady Rose. She’ll be forced to marry that awful Baron White, and I’m afraid she’ll find the same fate as her mother.”
“Do you think he’s violent?” Mrs. Carter asked.
“I feel certain of it. I’ve heard rumors,” Mrs. Blythe said.
“What kind of rumors?”
“Of him hurting maids. One of them took her life after he…” She didn’t finish but Sebastian knew to what she alluded. White was a rapist.
“Oh dear me, how can Lord Wentworth give her to him?” Mrs. Carter asked.
“He has his reasons. And her name is Honoria Blackwell.”
“She’ll be mistress of this house soon enough,” Mrs. Carter said. “I don’t know what’s to become of any of us.”
“I wish she could find a love match. Someone young and handsome. Someone who could take her far away from here,” Mrs. Blythe said. “As much as it would hurt to lose her, I want her to be safe and happy.”
“I felt sure she would have offers of marriage after the Season,” Mrs. Carter said.
“No, it wasn’t like that at all. She sat alone at the balls with anempty dance card.”
“How is that possible? She’s pretty and well-spoken,” Mrs. Carter said. “Perhaps more so than any other debutant this Season.”
“We’re not the only ones who hear the whispers about the lord’s true business. My theory? No one wants to marry into this family because of it.”
“Do you think so?”
“It’s a dangerous business run by a dangerous man,” Mrs. Blythe said.
“Baron White does not seem to mind. I wonder why?” Mrs. Carter asked.
“From what I’ve heard, he’s as dishonorable as Lord Wentworth.”
“Oh, poor Lady Rose,” Mrs. Blythe said. “She’ll be controlled by Baron White, just as her mother was in her marriage. I can’t stand to see it. She’s so lovely and pretty, and soon all the life will be sucked out of her. But she will be engaged to Baron White before the end of the summer. There’s not a thing we can do about it either. We best keep our concerns to ourselves. Or we’ll end up like poor Lizzie.”
