A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke

by Hazel Linwood

  His uncle’s face lit with understanding. “You spoke to him about his daughter, and he was not amenable?”

  He nodded, thinking back to the conversation with the Earl with a feeling of dread.

  “I did. I had planned to wait but Thornmouth made an investment in the vineyard without my knowledge and made an official offer. I could not wait. I went to the Earl the very next day, laid out my plan to rebuild my fortune. I confessed that I am moon-eyed over Lady Rowena, and that I would do anything for her. I asked him for her hand.” He shook his head, recalling the Earl’s surprised face, and then his crushing reply.

  “He said that he had only wished I had come to him months ago, before Thornmouth began his campaign for Rowena. He wished that I still had my fortune that he might consider declining Thornmouth’s offer. Alas, since I am not currently plump in the purse and Thornmouth has so entwined himself in the Earl’s affairs, he could not grant my request. In addition, he was rather perturbed at my deception.”

  So perturbed in fact, that the Earl had cut short their visit to the vineyard. The family had packed their belongings the very next day and returned to London, given Christopher no time to speak to Rowena. The last he had seen of her was when the Earl had ushered her into the carriage the next morning. Since then, they had been able to communicate only via notes, passed back and forth with the help of Henry, Catherine, and Rowena’s loyal housekeeper and maid.

  Uncle Nestor nodded. “This is why Henry has been meeting with the Earl in your place of late.”

  “The Earl has deemed it best if he conducted business with Henry for the time being, at least until after the wedding. Once Rowena is wed to Thornmouth and has moved to his estate in Cambridgeshire, I may resume visitations with the Earl.”

  Christopher nodded. “Uncle, it has been two weeks since I saw her, held her, or kissed her.” He considered his uncle’s face for a moment and then took a deep breath before carrying on. “We were to elope. I was to meet her this evening, at the park.”

  His uncle’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Elope? You planned to take her to Scotland?”

  “Gretna Green, yes.”

  Uncle Nester’s jaw clamped shut as he sat and took in this news.

  “I cannot say I approve. However, if you love one another as you say you do, then perhaps there is nothing else that can be done. Alas, it seems something has gotten in your way.”

  Christopher rose, the despair rushing up his spine.

  “I received a note, sent by her housekeeper to tell me she cannot meet me. It appeared to have been written in haste for there was no explanation. Only ‘Cannot meet tonight. Urgent matters interfered.’ Matters more urgent than our escaping London?” He dropped back into the armchair. “I fear she has changed her mind.”

  “Now, now, let us not be so hasty. Wait until your brother returns, he might have news.”

  “No, he has gone to White’s to dine with the Earl and her brother and ” He stopped mid-sentence as an idea had formed in his mind. He jumped out of the chair. “I must leave Uncle. Do not wait up for me.”

  He rushed out of the room as his uncle’s voice called out his name. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

  Half an hour later, Christopher found himself in front of the Burton family’s London home. He had not been here since the fateful dinner some weeks ago. He had not planned to return here until he was wed to Rowena.

  Not wanting to endanger their plans to go to Scotland, they had avoided seeing one another in secret. But now with their plans so suddenly changed, he had no choice.

  I must see her. I must find out if she changed her mind about me. What if she has? What will I do? How can I go on?

  He pushed the thought from his mind and ducked across the street and around the corner to the back of the house. He looked at the darkened windows, unsure of what to do next. He could not simply knock on the servant’s door and ask for Mrs. Wooster, the housekeeper or the maid. He glanced up at the windows and thought of the night at the vineyard when Rowena had thrown pebbles at his window.

  If only I knew which window is hers. Perhaps I ought to take my chance and–

  “Your Grace?” he spun around and found himself face to face with Mrs. Wooster. “Is something the matter? Has nobody answered your call at the front door?” The housekeeper was standing before him, a basket with fresh fruit and vegetables under her arm.

  He wetted his lips and glanced around, unsure of what to say. To his relief, he did not have to. The older woman nodded once, curtly.

  The old woman shook her head and then sighed. “It is Lady Rowena you are here for, I take it. Very well.” She blinked and looked up at him. “You should know nobody in this household is fond of the Duke of Thornmouth. Us servants do talk to one another.”

  “I am sure you do, Mrs. Wooster.”

  She looked up him up and down. “I know your former housekeeper. Mrs. Leeds.”

  Christopher smiled at the mention of the kind older woman who had long served as their housekeeper. He recalled her gentle, unassuming nature. Her presence had soothed him after the devastating loss of his mother.

  “Mrs. Leeds retired earlier this year,” he said.

  “Aye, I know. And with a generous gift from Your Grace, I heard.” She clicked her tongue. “So, as I said, I supposed you are here for Lady Rowena?”

  He swallowed and nodded. “I am. I don’t suppose you could–”

  She sighed dramatically, hoisting the basket full of fresh fruit she was carrying higher up on her hip.

  “I suppose. However, if I end up losing my position over this, you best believe I will be coming to knock on your door.”

  He smiled at her sass. “And I will gladly welcome you in and give you a position. Not that you will be in need of one.”

  “Your word to God’s ear, Your Grace.” She gave him a curt nod and without another word, disappeared into the house.

  Christopher paced in the back yard for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was certainly no more than five minutes when the back door opened. He spun around and Rowena stood in the dim light, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  “Christopher?” she called out quietly and he rushed toward her. They had not seen one another in person in nearly two weeks. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to pull her near, but he hesitated. He still was unsure why she had decided to forego their plan to go to Gretna Green.

  “What are you doing here?” The surprise was evident in her voice.

  “What am I doing here? Certainly, you could not have expected me to do nothing after receiving such a note from you.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Am I to understand your note meant you have you decided to wed Thornmouth instead then?”

  Her eyes widened with horror. “No! Never. I love you; nothing has changed.” She looked up at the dark house and then took his hand, pulling him gently further away from the house. When they were hidden behind the large apple tree, she looked up at him.

  “I want us to go still, but I cannot tonight. Something has happened.”

  Relieved at her insistence, he placed his arms on her shoulders.

  “Then what is it? Rowena, please. What has happened? What could have happened that is so grave our plans had to be changed?”

  She sighed heavily, her shoulders sloping forward.

  “It is Betsy. I received a note from her via messenger this morning. She said that Lord Portsmouth has been making advances toward her. She has stalled and denied his desires while they were at Crawford Castle. Under the Duke of Thornmouth’s eye, he held back. However, with the trials concluded they have returned to the Portsmouth’s country home in Bedfordshire.”

  Christopher grunted. He hadn’t known that the trials were concluded. If he had attended the House of Lords in recent days, he would have. Alas, due to his feeling ever so melancholy, ever so Friday-faced, he had remained at home and missed this news.

  This must be why Thornmouth is to return to Lond
on this upcoming Sunday. Due to the end of the trials.

  “Betsy says in recent days Portsmouth has forced his way into her bedchamber twice and she has had to fend him off. He did not take kindly to her refusal to give in to him and she is fearful. She must leave there at once. I do not believe it is safe for her to stay there.” As much as he despised Thornmouth, at least Rowena’s dearest friend had been saved under his protection.

  “That is grave news indeed. I agree. She must leave and be returned here to London.”

  “I know, I have replied with a message telling her to take one of Portsmouth’s horses and return to Crawford Castle. She is to seek out Thornmouth and request that he return her to London when he sets out. Once she is here, this coming Sunday, I will take her to speak to my Mother. To tell her everything. Surely, with my support, and the Duke of Thornmouth there, they will allow her to return to our home.”

  Christopher scratched his chin.

  “Why can we not go to Scotland anyhow? Now that you have set her on her way, and she is sure to be returned her safe and sound?”

  A flash of anger crossed her face and he knew at once he’d said the wrong thing.

  “If it were your brother who was in danger, would you arrange a safe passage and then depart before he arrives? Before you could provide him with the comfort he would certainly be in need of after such an ordeal?”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. He raised his hands from her shoulders in a placating motion.

  “I apologize. I was thoughtless. I have simply been so frazzled, so vexed by the events of the past weeks.” He shook his head. “I wish there was another way, I prayed that your Father would just accept me and allow us to be together without having to deceive and hide. I let my own sorrows cloud my better wisdom.”

  Of course, she wanted to be there when her friend arrived. Of course, she wanted to support her. Betsy was to Rowena like a sister. How could he have been so thoughtless as to think it another way? Her face softened.

  “As do I, Christopher. I wish there was another way too. I fear what will happen once we return from Gretna Green. I think of it day and night. Will Father cast me out? And if so, what will happen to you and your business? This will be a scandal that could ruin us both.”

  “Are you uncertain?” he asked the question as he braced himself for her answer.

  She shook her head. “Never for a moment. I want to marry you and be by your side. I am simply fearful. I thought my life would be a certain way, and now it is quite the opposite. It scares me, but I know what my heart desires. You. And only you.”

  He gave her a wane smile and stroked her cheek.

  “It soothes me greatly to hear you say so.”

  She placed her hand over his. “Sunday night we will go. Once Betsy is safely back here in London and under Mama and Papa’s protection. I will sneak away, and we will go. And when we return, we will start our life as the Duke and Duchess of Westmond. No matter what.”

  “No matter what,” he said and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips.

  Chapter 24

  The days until Sunday appeared to last forever. Rowena felt herself in a whirlwind of feelings.

  On Thursday, she received a message from Betsy, letting her know she was on her way to Crawford Castle, having borrowed one of the Viscount’s horses from his stable.

  While this had soothed her, she could not calm her racing mind. There were so many questions, so many concerns.

  What would her condition be when she returned? Would her parents allow her to live with them once more? And what of the scandal she was about to bestow on the family? No matter what, if they escaped to Gretna Green and wed, even if her father forgave them, the scandal would be crushing.

  Thornmouth was certain to exact revenge against her father, her brother and most of all, Christopher. Certainly, this would make it all the harder for poor Betsy to find another position.

  Rowena bit her nail, an unladylike habit she had forced herself out of years ago, but which had returned with a vengeance these past few days.

  Will my desire for happiness ruin my family? Why must I be forced to make such a decision? If only Papa could undo the promise to Thornmouth–

  Rowena dropped her hand to her side and jumped up. She had to speak to her father. She had to convince him.

  She rushed down the stairs to the first floor where her father’s study was. Without hesitation, she knocked on his door and stepped inside.

  They had not spoken to one another much since the events at the vineyard and she knew he was sorely disappointed in her. It was written all over his face whenever he looked at her. She was only glad that he had kept the conversation with Christopher from the rest of the family. She could not imagine her mother’s reaction to the revelation that she had been meeting with Christopher in secret.

  “Papa? May I speak to you?”

  He was seated behind his large mahogany desk and peered up at her, a frown on his forehead. With a sigh, he motioned for her to sit in the seat before him. She swallowed. Whenever she was in his study, they always sat in the chairs by the fire, always played chess. Not today. Perhaps never again.

  She took her seat and crossed her feet at her ankles, hands folded in her lap.

  “We have not spoken to one another in some time,” she started out.

  “That surprises you?”

  She shook her head, not showing him how much his question stung.

  “I am sorry that I was not more forthcoming regarding the matter of the Duke of Westmond.”

  Her father raised his hand to stop her.

  “I do not wish to speak of this. I told the young man that I would put the whole matter aside. We will pretend as though it didn’t happen. Once you are wed to Isaac and have settled at Crawford Castle, he and I will continue to work together to make the vineyard a success. Of course, I cannot allow him to wed Catherine now, not under these circumstances,” he sighed and shook his head. “However, I believe everything can still go its proper way, just as long as all involved carry on as usual and not–”

  “Papa, we cannot continue as though nothing happened. And you never once asked me for my opinion on the matter at all. The fact is, I do not care for Isaac Travers. I cannot stand to be near him, in fact. The thought of being his wife makes me ill.”

  Her father rose and walked back and forth behind his desk; his arms were crossed behind his back.

  “I am sorry that is how you feel. However, I am sure in time you will change your mind.

  Rowena shook her head.

  “Papa, I do not believe I will. Please, I implore you. Do not force this marriage upon me.”

  Her father sighed and shook his head.

  “I know I made a mistake selecting Lord Mortimer for you, and I apologize for the hurt that has caused you. But with Isaac, I am certain. More than certain. Indeed, just consider all that he has done for us, investing in the vineyard as he has.”

  She sneered. “He has given money. That is certainly no hardship for one as rich as he.”

  “That is precisely why it is so imperative that you wed him. He has wealth. In fact, he is among the wealthiest in the country. And one of the most influential. You already know what would happen if we suddenly rescinded on this betrothal.”

  Rowena sighed. “If you fear what he might do if we offend him, then he is clearly not as good a man as you make him out to be.”

  They locked eyes for a moment, neither saying anything.

  “Rowena, I like the Duke of Westmond well enough. He is a nice fellow. Perhaps one day, he will rebuild his fortune. At that time, I am certain he will find a suitable wife to make a home with. However, that time is not now, and that wife will not be you. This conversation is over.”

  He rose and strutted across the room, holding open the door.

  The coldness in his gesture and the very fact he was all but ejecting her from the room hit her hard. She swallowed and nodded briefly at him as she went.

 
She’d just turned the corner of the hall when he called for her.

  “Rowena? Isaac will be here shortly. I expect you to greet him and be cordial. You are, after all, soon to be wed.”

  She did not reply. Instead she marched forward and went back to her chamber. If her father would not relent there was nothing else to do. She would ensure Betsy was settled and then, tomorrow she would meet Christopher and they would go to Scotland.

  It was in the early evening when her father’s voice called for her. She exited her bedchamber, having ensured that her small satchel of clothes was stowed safely beneath the bed before making her way downstairs.