Page 37 of A Duke to Elude (Sherton Sisters 1)

“He reaffirmed it, that is true. But I already had a vague notion that I didn’t enjoy being the focus of attention. You see, whoever decides these things had decided that I was that Season’s Diamond. Everywhere I went people stared and whispered. It was most uncomfortable. And it made the situation with Prescott all the more precarious. People were talking about his attentions toward me. He was so much older than me and not in the least to my liking, so I didn’t want to even consider him. But being the properly raised provincial young lady that I was, I wasn’t quite sure how to discourage him.”

Bel paused for another deep breath. She had gotten to the crux of her tale and didn’t really want to share it. But she could tell from the expression in Wexford’s gaze that he was fairly certain of what was coming, so she might as well get it said.

“He kept wanting to talk about my father whenever he called. In hindsight, it really was foolish of him to think I would have any knowledge, let alone any power, over my father’s opinions or decisions, but Prescott is a fool besides a bounder and a cad.” Rosabel shrugged, dismissing the man’s foolishness before getting on with her own.

“Finally, he spoke to my father, asking for my hand. Thankfully, I had already told Father that I didn’t want to accept, so he didn’t even put me to the blushes of refusing for myself. We thought the matter was settled. Father actually came and told me that he felt it was for the best that I had refused due to the opposite nature of their politics. I didn’t ask for details. I was merely thrilled that the matter was taken care of. Or so I thought.”

For a moment, Rosabel almost quailed in her telling. She could hear that Sally had begun to weep. She was quiet about it, but Rosabel still knew. She appreciated her faithful maid’s support and loyalty, but it made her own throat clog with emotion for a moment. Calling on all the powers of concealment she had learned after her experiences with Prescott, Rosabel lifted her chin and finished her story. But she could no longer hold her gaze steadily to Wexford’s eyes, shifting her own to stare slightly over his shoulder.

“I still don’t even know exactly what he wanted my father to support with him or how he hoped to manipulate my father. I’m not sure how he thought that marrying me would impact my father’s politics. He must have been desperate, is all I can figure. But he expected me to be an easy acquisition, even after we had refused him. He counted on my complete innocence. And that is where he failed.”

By now, Rosabel’s hand was starting to go numb from Wexford’s tight hold, but she welcomed the lack of feeling. She wished it would spread to her entire being in that moment.

“He hoped to force me into a match. It was the Chorney ball. You know, the big one they host every Season. Everybody is there, it’s the greatest crush. And would have served his purposes perfectly. If not for the fact that before we came to London for my Season, for months my father had made me practice methods of self-defence. It was entirely unorthodox. Even my knowledge of how to defend myself could have ruined me. But I managed to unman him long enough to get away from him before I became rumpled or anyone saw me. He never approached me again. And no one ever found out about it. Not even my father. I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. I was frightened and ashamed and embarrassed.”

“What were you ashamed or embarrassed about? You did exactly the right thing, and anyone would be proud of you for it. I certainly am and I have no place to be. Your father would be immensely proud of you. And probably proud of himself for having the foresight to make sure you were prepared and equipped.”

“But don’t you see? If a whisper of it got out, I could have still been forced into marriage with Prescott for one thing. Nothing of a compromising nature happened on his part other than he forced a kiss upon me. But I defended myself in a way that would be considered scandalous by the patronesses. And salacious by everyone else. Of course, I would trust my father to keep my secret, except that he would have probably wanted to call Prescott out. Can you imagine my father fighting a duel? Can you imagine that remaining a secret? And can you imagine that anyone wouldn’t guess the reasons?”

Rosabel could hear the hysteria rising in her voice and took a deep, quivering breath that she allowed to slowly release. With a calmer voice she continued.

“I don’t even know how I made it through the rest of the ball. Sally was always diligent about putting an abundance of pins in my hair. My hair didn’t so much as budge during the fracas with Prescott. It was pure luck that no one saw me emerging from the shadows into which he had ushered me. And Prescott hadn’t yelled either. Although he probably didn’t want to admit to being bested by me, even if it would have helped his agenda. But no one saw me, and no one suspected. I did plead a headache eventually and Mother brought me home.”

Bel glanced back at her maid and passed her a fresh handkerchief.

“When I got home, as usual, Sally was waiting for me and knew immediately that something had happened. She held me through my tears, and we discussed every possible option. We agreed that it was best to keep the whole affair to myself. And that night the new, controlled Lady Rosabel Sherton was born. I no longer trusted in the goodness of those I met. That had been my downfall, I believe. I truly thought everyone was kindness and pleasantness at their core, even the less pleasant on the surface. I just thought they were cranky. I didn’t think anyone was truly wicked at their very center. So, I expected everyone else to be lending the same expectation to everyone else, including me. So, until then, I hid nothing. But having that big of a secret to keep taught me to control my thoughts and reactions. Until you came along, anyway.”

Rosabel concluded on a shaky little laugh that broke a little in the middle. But she hadn’t allowed a single tear to fall. She suspected she had cried out her lifetime allotment that night two and a half years ago. After another deep breath, she met Wexford’s gaze.

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