What happens to us if the Duke changes his mind? Or if Adelia says no to him?
Alexander shook his head. “I cannot. What guarantee do I have—?”
“I do assure you that as a landlord, my contract with you is binding, regardless of anything.”
Alexander was surprised that the Duke understood his fears. He stole a glance at him, thinking that he just might be the man for Adelia. “I don’t want to be used as a pawn if this is a game.”
The Duke smiled. “This is no game. I simply wish to hold a dinner and make an offer for your cousin. I wish you to attend it as I would like permission from both her old and new family. I am trying to make it worth your while to make the trip.”
“A new home and land is not what I would consider ‘worth my while’. It’s more like ‘above and beyond’.”
The Duke laughed, favoring him with a speculative glance. “I like you. I see why your cousin looks up to you so much.” He held out his hand, “Do we have an agreement?”
Alexander looked down at the hand and then up at the Duke’s face. He reached out and shook. “We have an agreement.”
“Good man.” The Duke clapped him on the back and then reached in his pocket and removed a card. “I am at this address. Gather your things, wrap up your affairs, and meet me there tomorrow morning.”
Alexander nodded. “Very well then.”
* * *
Harry had expected that the journey back to Rosemond would be awkward with Mr. Raby and his wife in the carriage with him. So he was pleasantly surprised to find that they had quite a bit to talk about.
Mrs. Raby was excited about the move to the country.
“I’ve always wanted to live there, y’see. I was born in Cheapside. Not much there that’s green.”
Harry could sympathize.
“Well, I assure you that your cottage will be surrounded by plenty of green.”
She beamed at him and he could not help but feel warmth suffuse his chest and hoped that Adelia would be pleased to see them. He had not really gone to London with the intention of relocating her family permanently. It has simply occurred to him in the spur of the moment. He did not regret it and clearly Mr. Raby wanted this. He tried to hide it but he was just as excited as his wife, if his talk about crop rotation and types of soil was anything to go by. He was also very eager to work with the horses, even though he did not have much experience with them.
“I learn quick.” He snapped his fingers to show how fast his progress was and Harry did not doubt it. “You can ask Adelia.”
Harry smiled. This was going to work out just fine.
Chapter 27
Who Is It?
The letter came from Rosemond, an invitation to dinner. But first, His Grace asked the Earl’s permission to call upon him. Lady Cornhill was very excited and Adelia was literally shaking. Dorothea watched them, not understanding what was happening.
“He’s going to ask for my hand in marriage!” Adelia’s voice was several octaves higher in her excitement. Dorothea tried to be happy for her, but it was difficult. Still, she stretched her lips in a smile and hugged Adelia close. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yes, it is. Gosh, I cannot wait! Mama! We must get a new gown for me.”
Lady Cornhill’s brow furrowed briefly before she smiled again. “But of course we shall. For Dorothea, too.”
Adelia hardly spared her a glance, simply took her mother’s hand and began to talk a mile a minute about what kind of gown she wanted. Dorothea decided to take a walk in the garden and get a breath of fresh air.
“Where are you going, darling?” her mother called.
“Just to the garden. I need some fresh air.”
The frown did not leave Lady Cornhill’s forehead. “Well, all right. Don’t take too long. We need to prepare for His Grace’s dinner.”
“Of course.”
Dorothea hurried away as fast as she could, losing herself in the dense vegetation.
She didn't want to think of the Duke at any time and certainly not in her more private, intimate moments. However, thoughts of the Duke intruded, and Dorothea squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to focus on something else. The scent of the roses in the garden, grabbing at fragments of memories that were like a will-o’-the-wisp disappearing at the slightest breeze… Anything other than to face the fact that she wanted her sister’s intended.
But the thoughts she tried to summon dwindled away under the onslaught of imaginings. His Grace taking her hand and looking into her eyes, his emerald, intense gaze fixated on her and driving Dorothea completely insane with need.
Dorothea felt swept away by the power of those feelings, as well as a pang of powerful guilt and self-loathing. She pinched her own hand as she tried to expel him from her mind but it was impossible. She swallowed the lump in her throat at the thought of the Duke asking her father for her sister’s hand in marriage.
She felt as if she could hear her heart break. Dorothea clung to denial as long as she could. She tried to blame her situation on His Grace being the first gentleman she saw after she woke up and could remember nothing.
He had invaded Dorothea's thoughts, been kind to her, treated her with courtesy and respect, looked at her with those intense green eyes and now he had invaded Dorothea's desires as well. But that excuse didn't work and she was still left with the fact that the Duke had only ever shown interest in her sister.
Here she sat in the rose garden, pining away like a damsel in a tragic tale. But she knew that she wanted the Duke and her sister to stay in her life and so she had no choice but to keep her feelings to herself.
It was alarming, frankly, how little it took to set Dorothea off. It might have been fathomable, if not justifiable, if Dorothea was only affected by the Duke in imagined intimacy. But just a warm smile from him or the most unintentional of touches was enough to make her heart race and her palms sweat. Here she was alone in the garden and an assortment of those recent encounters was enough to have her trembling with desires she did not understand.
Has it always been this way or is this some effect of my memory loss?
Dorothea worried that she would someday, inevitably, slip up in front of the Duke and end up making a fool of herself. Worse, she would hurt her sister’s feelings.
The sad truth was that Dorothea didn't want anyone else. She would do anything for the Duke, and that included keeping her mouth shut rather than blurting out the words she wanted to say. She knew that a love confession would only make him uncomfortable, and she didn't think she could survive if His Grace started distancing himself because she was stupid enough to reveal her ridiculous, unrequited feelings.
Dorothea closed her eyes and imagined the Duke close to her, smiling at her, holding her hand, feeling that here alone in the garden she could hold on to her fantasy world a little longer. She could close her eyes and pretend that His Grace was beside her, his arm wrapped around Dorothea's waist, and whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
She could imagine that His Grace was hers and that he loved her in a way he would never love her in real life. Dorothea opened her eyes, looking around the lonely garden, feeling alone, with a cold empty space beside her on the bench that she wished His Grace occupied.
Dorothea blinked away the tears that wanted to fall and told herself that her heart couldn't be breaking for something she never had. Even though, she knew, deep down, that she was lying to herself. But that lie was the only thing that held Dorothea together, that would allow her to meet His Grace's eyes when she saw him later as if nothing was wrong. The pretense was all that Dorothea had left.
* * *
Adelia critically examined the gown she had chosen in the mirror. It was made of pure copper silk, simple in its design. She had on a gold lace choker that showed off the length of her neck, and a modestly low cleavage showing just enough skin to whet the appetite. The copper of the gown complemented her coloring beautifully, and with her blonde mane piled on top of her head, she reminded hersel
f of nothing more than a majestic lion. She smiled into the looking glass.
Soon, I shall be betrothed to the man of my dreams.
She spun around, happiness suffusing her whole being.
“Mama!” she cried and heard the patter of hurrying feet as her mother came into the room.
“What is it?”
“I’m just so happy, Mama. I could cry.” She turned, smiling widely at her mother. Lady Cornhill’s eyes grew soft and bright.
“I am happy for you too, lovely girl. You deserve all the happiness.” She blinked a few times to clear the moisture, “I just can’t help feeling a bit sad because I only just found you. I would have liked to keep you all to myself for a while.”
Adelia frowned and then resolutely brightened her face. “Oh, Mama. I shall always be your daughter, whether I am here or not.”
Lady Cornhill came up to her and hugged her close. “Yes, you shall. Always remember that.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
She smiled at her mother, who smiled tremulously back. They stared at each other for a few more minutes, at a loss as to what they should do next. Lady Cornhill pulled away first.
“I should go and check on your sister. I know she’s a bit nervous about this dinner.” She kissed Adelia on the cheek and left the room. Adelia watched her go, feeling a little resentful that her mother was concerned for her sister when tonight was her big night. But she supposed it was a good thing if Dorothea was nervous and needed help preparing. She did not want anything to spoil this night for her.
She turned back to her looking glass debating on whether she should add some color to her cheeks or not.
* * *
Lady Rose Cornhill was happy for her child, she was. But she could also not help but feel a little resentful. So much was going on in their little family—they had yet to find answers as to how Adelia came to be living with the Raby family, now Dorothea had lost her memory…she did not really feel like dealing with an engagement party. She wanted to hold both her daughters close to her and just have them.
She knew it was selfish and she was trying to be supportive but if she had her way, the Duke would have been requested to give them some time. She knew he would have understood her reasoning…but Adelia was bound and determined about this. She reminded Rose so much of Dorothea in that way and really brought home to her that even though her daughters were raised apart, they had so much in common.
It was uncanny.
She knocked on Dorothea’s door and waited for her invitation to enter before she opened the door. She smiled at her other daughter, sitting on the bed, looking so uncertain in her mint green chiffon gown. She was beautiful and Rose could not wait for her to remember it.
“How are you, my dear?” she asked, walking softly forward to take Dorothea’s hands in hers.
Her daughter nodded, and gave her a brave smile. “I am well, Mother.”
Rose looked down at Dorothea’s naked fingers as she rubbed at her palm. It was curiously rougher than expected. She looked down at her daughter’s hands and frowned, seeing the calluses at the base of her palm. “I have just the thing to complete this beautiful gown. Wait here a moment,” she said before rushing out to her own chambers from whence she retrieved her jewelry box.
When she was but a young girl, newly out, she had received a gift from a French count, ostensibly for the occasion of her eighteenth birthday. It was a silver ring embedded with Colombian emeralds of a medium rich hue that shone with verdant green light. She had fallen in love with it at once. However, she did not wear it anymore, for she was a respectable married woman not wont to wear other men’s gifts. Still, she had not discarded it and now, she could give it to her daughter.
She held it out for Dorothea to see. “Emeralds are said to guard against memory loss,” she said with a smile, “and it will go well with your lovely gown.”
To her surprise, she saw tears spring into Dorothea’s eyes. “That is very kind of you, Mother,” she said.
Rose smiled, picking up Dorothea’s ring finger and slipping it on. “Look at that,” she said, meeting Dorothea’s eyes with her own pleased ones. “It fits quite well.”
Dorothea held her hand up, examining the ring. “It looks beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” Rose smiled at her daughter, who smiled back. She got to her feet and held out her hand.
“Come, let us go down and wait for the guest of honor. I’m sure she’s still fussing over her appearance.”
Dorothea smiled sadly. “I’m sure she is. You should go and help her. I shall go and wait with Father.”
“As you wish.” Rose hesitated, not wanting to set off a firestorm but really needing to know. “You are all right?”
“Yes Mother, I am fine.”
Rose nodded, deciding to take her at her word. “All right then. I shall be off. Wear the gold earbobs as well, and your look will be complete.”
Dorothea smiled, “Yes, Mother,” she said.
Rose put her hand lovingly on Dorothea’s cheek and they gave each other one honest glance, full of all the emotion in the moment, and then Rose turned and left.
* * *
Dorothea practiced her smile in the mirror a few times, making her eyes light up as if they were delighted, until she felt it looked convincing. She would not be the one to spoil her sister’s engagement party. She would be as happy as a clam if it killed her.
Sweeping her hair back and tying it in a tight chignon at the back of her head, she slipped on her green silk slippers and went downstairs to wait for the other members of the household to finish up.
On the stairs she ran into the housekeeper, rushing past her with a bucket. It was almost a disaster as the contents of the bucket were about to land on the billowing skirt of her gown.
“Oh, I’m sorry Lady Adelia!” the housekeeper said.
Dorothea shook her head with a smile. “I am Dorothea,” she murmured softly.
“Oh?” the housekeeper seemed surprised. “Forgive me, my mistake.”
“Well, we do look very alike.”
The housekeeper gave her a piercing stare. “That you do.”
Dorothea pursed her lips and furrowed her forehead as the housekeeper did not look away, “Is something the matter?”
“No, no. Everything is…well. I…simply haven’t seen you since you came to stay with us and it is…unsettling.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The housekeeper waved her hand. “I’ve been away and…been feeling under the weather so I just caught up with all the…happenings. Forgive me for speaking out of turn.”
“That’s perfectly all right. Don’t worry about it.” Dorothea reached out and squeezed the housekeeper’s arm. She gave a strained smile in response, eyes flicking down to brush over Dorothea’s ring.
“That suits you very well,” she murmured before raising her eyes up to meet Dorothea’s and then walking away quickly. Dorothea watched her go.
“Well, that was strange,” she murmured to herself.
“What was strange?” For the second time in as many minutes she jumped, turning to see her father stepping toward her from the stairs. Her hand flew up and covered her pounding heart.
“Oh, My Lord! You startled me.”
“I apologize. I thought you must have heard me descend. Always sound like a herd of elephants.” He chuckled at his own joke, looking to her to share it, so she smiled as well.
“Well, I suppose I was distracted.”
“Yes, you were saying about something being strange? What is it? Did you think you saw a fairy again?”
Dorothea stared at him in puzzlement, “I beg pardon?”
The Earl chuckled, “When you were eight years old, you came running in from the garden swearing up and down that you had seen some fairies. It was quite amusing.”
“Oh…” Dorothea breathed as she tried to imagine herself doing such a thing. The whole idea seemed very foreign to her. “I must have been quite the imagin
ative child.”
“That you were, my dear,” the Earl agreed, “I suppose we have to wait a bit longer for your sister and mother?”
“Yes, Mother says that Adelia is very anxious.”
The Earl shook his head. “She need not be, the Duke is clearly smitten with her.”
“Yes, Mother thinks so as well.”
“And you do not?”
“No, I mean of course I do. It’s just that I have not witnessed them together as much as the two of you have.”
A Vixen For The Devilish Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 23
