Cinderella and the Duke

by Janice Preston

  She was not so bound up in her own concerns that she did not notice Freddie’s eyes dim at her words and her heart went out to him. He did not have the choice to ride out and she knew how frustrated he felt at being so confined. She lifted one hand to the side of his face and wished—futilely, as she had so many times before—that she could make his life easier.

  ‘When I return, we will discuss our plans again. There is no need for us to stay here until Foxbourne is sold, if we choose not to. We can either go home to Lydney or, if you prefer, we could lease a house in a town somewhere, until Jack finishes school for the summer.’

  * * *

  Once mounted on Kamal, Rosalind hesitated. It was madness, surely, to hope to meet Leo but...her thoughts stuttered as she tried to analyse the feelings that had driven her out of doors. The awful fear she had successfully suppressed fought its way to the surface. It was not that he had not called upon her as promised. It was the fact that he had sent no word to the vicar. She had thought him, at the least, an honourable man. To have sent no apology...to have simply failed to keep an appointment...had she been so very wrong about his character? Mayhap he thought a country parson did not warrant any degree of attention from a fine London gentleman such as himself, but she was loath to believe her gut feeling about him had been so very wrong.

  Which left an accident or illness and, if it were the latter, surely he would have sent someone with excuses? If, however, he had suffered an accident on his way to the parsonage...

  With a muttered oath, she headed for the village. Her ride could take her past the parsonage and in the direction of Halsdon Manor. She could at least make sure he was not lying insensible in a ditch somewhere. If she saw no sign of him on her travels, then she must accept she had been completely mistaken about his character and maybe, in time, she might forgive herself for the momentous mistake she had made. She would have a lifetime to regret her actions of yesterday.

  As she rode, she discovered it was one thing to decide—quite dispassionately—on a course of action and how one should feel. Emotions, it seemed, had an agenda of their own, her insides churning, squeezing and bubbling until she felt quite ill.

  * * *

  Some time later she reined Kamal to a halt next to the stone pillars that marked the entrance to Halsdon Manor. Well. That was it. No sign of Leo on the road. She could hardly ride up to the front door of the Manor and demand to see him. She urged Kamal into a trot, straight past the pillars and in the direction of Stoney End. The afternoon light was fading and it was time she went home.

  She must accept she had been mistaken in Leo. She dashed at a tear that dared to spill over and trickle down her cheek. It was the knife-edge breeze that made her eyes water. He was unworthy of regret, let alone tears. Better to concentrate on her anger than her sorrow. Anger at herself, for being taken in by a...by a...

  ‘Oh, no!’

  She halted Kamal and frantically looked for an escape, but there was none to be had. She looked beyond the solitary horseman who approached, but no further riders hove into view. Ironically, she was almost level with the gate through which she had driven those straying sheep that first day they met. Instinct took over and she nudged Kamal into motion again. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, forcing eye contact with Anthony Lascelles as he drew his horse to a halt and raised his hat. Rosalind stopped Kamal a good six feet away, conscious Lascelles was now between her and home.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Pryce. How propitious, our meeting in this way.’

  Rosalind inclined her head. Why, oh, why hadn’t she brought Hector with her?

  ‘Good afternoon, sir. May I enquire in what way our meeting is propitious?’

  ‘Why, I had it in my mind to call upon you at Stoney End as I was in the vicinity, but I hesitated to disturb you so late in the day. I thought you might already be dining.’ He smiled charmingly, but his eyes remained cold. Calculating. ‘Country hours and so forth.’

  ‘As you mention the subject, sir, the hour is rather late. I have stayed out longer than intended. I should make haste...my brother will be looking out for me, I am sure.’

  ‘Your brother...yes...’ Lascelles shook his head, sympathy writ large on his face. ‘How the poor fellow must suffer with the knowledge that, should anything happen, he would find himself quite unable to take action. It is the first instinct of family, is it not, to protect one another?’

  What does he mean? Is it a threat?

  ‘You are mistaken, sir, if you think my brother incapable of protecting those he loves.’

  Rosalind nudged Kamal into motion. Lascelles reined his horse to the side of the lane, opening up a gap for her to ride through.

  ‘I was making reference to my dear cousin. He has been much in my thoughts today,’ Lascelles said as she drew alongside him.

  His words grabbed Rosalind’s attention. ‘Your cousin?’

  Lascelles lounged in his saddle, smiling. ‘Why, yes.’ He shook his head again, his lips pursed. ‘Poor Cousin Leo... Young Alex is such a scamp, always getting into scrapes. What can a father do but drop everything and rush to the rescue when a family crisis summons him home?’

  His words fell like blows on Rosalind’s heart. The one eventuality she had not foreseen...that Leo might be married, with a family. He had mentioned nothing of a son in all their conversations, not even when they had discussed Susie and her family. She gathered her pride, willing her voice to remain light and uninterested.

  ‘I did not know he had a son. Now, pray, excuse me, for I must be on my way.’

  ‘He has two sons,’ Lascelles continued, as though Rosalind had not spoken. ‘And a daughter. I am surprised he did not mention them; his family is his pride and joy. He would do anything for them.’

  ‘As a father should,’ she snapped. A thought struck her. ‘Did he mention Susie before he left?’

  Lascelles frowned, appearing to search his memory. ‘No,’ he said, after a pause. ‘I do not believe he did. I fear the news about Alex quite blocked everything else from his mind. Shall I enquire on your behalf, when I go to London? He has no plans to return to Halsdon Manor, so you will be unable to ask him yourself.’

  ‘I thank you, but, no. I shall make alternative arrangements for Susie. There is no need to involve your cousin further—I am loath to abandon her to an orphan asylum such as he suggested.’

  ‘You have confirmed she is indeed an orphan, then, ma’am?’

  ‘I... No, she is not an orphan. Not precisely.’ Her cheeks burned at the thought of discussing such matters with Lascelles. ‘The vicar made enquiries. It seems her mother fostered her out with a farmer’s family.’

  ‘Ah. I understand, dear lady. No need to elaborate. She and I have much in common, then.’ He bowed. ‘Pray, allow me to place myself at your service, should you need any help or advice for the little one.’

  ‘I... Thank you.’

  ‘You look puzzled, my dear lady. My cousin refrained from discussing my personal circumstances with you, I take it?’

  Rosalind frowned. ‘Your cousin barely spoke of you, sir. I do not understand your meaning.’

  Lascelles shook his head. ‘It is the shame,’ he said, with a sigh, ‘and yet the guilt will not allow him to disown me entirely. That is the reason we have a somewhat...shall we say, testy...relationship.’ He smiled. ‘I have no wish to shock you, Mrs Pryce, but my father and my mother were unmarried. Had they been, of course, then our lives would be very different. But it is of no use to dwell upon what might have been. I am inured to my lot and I must count myself fortunate that I am not entirely disowned by my cousins.

  ‘That is why I am uniquely placed to offer any help or advice you might need for young Susie.’ He smiled again and tipped his hat. ‘I, like you, am conscious of the passing minutes, my dear lady, so I shall bid you farewell. My other cousin and Stan
ton remain as my guests until Sunday, when we shall all leave together, so I must hasten home to take up my duties as host.

  ‘Until next time we meet.’

  He dug his heels into his horse and cantered off down the lane, leaving Rosalind shaken and even less certain of her own judgement of character.

  Leo, the man she had trusted and thought of as honourable—the man with whom she had thought herself in love—had ignored the existence of his family and befriended her, seemingly with the sole intention of seduction. He had then cruelly left without a word, even though he must know how confused and upset she would be. His fury at her had been contrived. Her omission of the truth was surely as nothing compared to his. Quite why she continued to be surprised by such immoral and selfish behaviour by a gentleman of his ilk, she did not know.

  And then, to add to her confusion, Anthony Lascelles—who she had so feared and whose appearance just now in the dimming twilight had sent panic soaring—had behaved as a gentleman.

  She rode the rest of the way to Stoney End with the heaviest of hearts, the harshest condemnation of her own behaviour pounding her thoughts.

  * * *

  The decision was made.

  Rosalind and Freddie would return to Lydney Hall. Sir William had found a buyer for Foxbourne Manor and preparations for him to remove to his daughter’s property in the north were well under way. Sir William’s buyer—who had bound Sir William to secrecy as to his identity—had agreed Rosalind and Freddie could remain at Stoney End for as long as they might wish, but they had decided to go home immediately and face Sir Peter. Rosalind had written to Nell to apprise her of their plans and to the housekeeper at Lydney to give the staff time to prepare for their arrival.

  The date of travel was set for two weeks hence. Rosalind had persuaded Freddie that Susie should remain with them and caring for the little girl helped distract Rosalind from her constantly circling thoughts of Leo: where he was, what he was doing, whether he ever thought of her or had wiped her from his mind as casually as he appeared to have done. Her heartache was not eased by telling herself he would soon have gone in any case. It was the manner of his leaving—his casual, cruel dismissal of her and the confusion he must know she was suffering that ripped at her heart and battered her pride.

  She buried her pain beneath busyness and a determined cheeriness that only slipped once she was alone in her bed at night. Then that tangle of raw emotion fought its way to the surface and wrapped around her, squeezing until she felt she could no longer breathe. Anger mixed with hurt and she held imagined conversations with him during which her scathing eloquence would awaken his conscience and he would have a change of heart...but then she would remember.

  He was married. He had a family. She meant nothing to him, even though meeting him had proved to be the most significant event in her life.

  I am nothing more than a stupid, naïve fool. I knew he would leave and I would never see him again, but I still chose to give myself to him. I only have myself to blame.

  And each morning she awoke with her throat tight and aching and her eyes red and sore. And she arose and went about her day with yet another determined smile upon her face. She could not wait to go home and for her life to return to some semblance of normality.

  They saw nothing more of Anthony Lascelles and his guests, but they knew through Sir William that the men departed for London three days after Leo failed to honour his appointment with the vicar.

  * * *

  The day before their scheduled departure, Rosalind was in the parlour with Susie, teaching her how to embroider, when Freddie came in, an opened letter in his hand.

  ‘This—’ he waved the letter ‘—is from Lady Glenlochrie. It has just been delivered by one of her footmen.’

  Rosalind shot to her feet, stomach clenched with fear as she tried to imagine what had happened to prompt Nell’s aunt to write with such urgency. ‘Nell is not ill, is she? Oh, Freddie...please tell me what is amiss... I cannot bear the suspense.’

  Freddie flicked a meaningful look at Susie and Rosalind said, ‘Go to the kitchen, Susie, my dear. Ask Penny to give you an apple.’ As Susie left the room, Rosalind said, ‘Is the footman still here? Does he await a reply?’

  ‘He is still here, yes. But he made no mention of a reply.’

  Rosalind waited in a fever of impatience whilst Freddie settled into his chair and wordlessly indicated that Rosalind, too, should sit. Then he studied her, the strangest expression on his face.

  ‘Freddie? What does she say? Is it Nell? Do please tell me what is wrong.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with Nell, but I fear you will dislike the news.’

  ‘Sir Peter has come for her!’

  Freddie threw back his head and laughed. ‘Rosalind! No, it is not Sir Peter. You really do have the most lurid imagination. Do you imagine I should be so calm if he were the problem? No. The news is that her ladyship has broken her leg and is therefore unable to fulfil her role as chaperon to Nell.’

  ‘Oh! But—’ Rosalind fell silent in response to Freddie’s raised hand.

  ‘Allow me to finish. She asks...no...she insists that we go to London in order that Nell can still have her Season. You, my dear Ros, are to be Nell’s chaperon.’

  Everything froze. Time itself appeared to stand still. Then the air whooshed from Rosalind’s lungs and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Leo!

  ‘No! I cannot.’

  Freddie gave a puzzled smile. ‘Of course you can. There is nothing to fear.’

  ‘But...but...’

  ‘Come, my dear. This is Nell. Our sister. We cannot allow fear of our Hillyer relations to prevent us from helping when she has need of us.’

  ‘I am not afraid of them.’ She spoke unthinkingly.

  ‘Then you can have no objection to spending a few months in London. We agreed how important it is that Nell should find a husband. I shall be with you for moral support and we can laugh together at the pompousness and the self-importance of these people who have done nothing to earn their privilege other than be born to the right parents. It will be our private joke.’

  Rosalind stared helplessly at her brother. She had not even begun to think about her maternal relations and their arrogant friends...her first thought, her only thought, had been how on earth she could face Leo—and his wife, and his children—if she were expected to attend balls and parties and all the other society events to which Nell would surely be invited.

  And what of Nell? If Rosalind’s immoral behaviour became known...

  How can I bear it? I have been so wrong about him. What if I was also wrong in believing he will say nothing of our...of my...?

  She could not even complete that thought as sick dread welled up inside. She tried to summon up hatred and defiance against Leo, but her heart and her emotions still...just...wanted.

  Freddie leaned over and caught her hand in his. ‘Is there something else, Ros? What are you not telling me?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not... I have... I cannot... Oh, heavens! I cannot string more than two words together at a time.’

  She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. Hauled in a deep breath. She must endure. She had no choice. A few short months...surely she could bear so brief a time? She gathered her thoughts.

  ‘There are practicalities, Freddie. Step-Papa left us financially comfortable, but our income will not stretch to the expense of a Season. If we are to accompany Nell, we must dress the part.’

  ‘You always look elegant, Sis, whatever clothes you wear.’

  Freddie winked at Rosalind, offering her a cheeky grin, and love for him flooded through her. At least she still had Freddie. Life without him would be so very dull, especially when Nell did wed.

  ‘Lady Glenlochrie has already offered to stand the cost of a new wardrobe for you,’
Freddie continued. ‘She says—’ he consulted the letter, then read out in a high-pitched, perfect imitation of her ladyship’s well-modulated tones ‘“—Rosalind will stand as my representative in society and therefore I shall expect her to uphold the Glenlochrie name and position during her time in London”. She also says she wants us there as soon as possible even though Nell’s ball is not until after Easter.’ He bent his head, studying the letter with a frown. ‘It seems several families are already in town and there are some private parties to which Nell is invited. The carriage will be here on Saturday and we are to travel to London on Monday.’

  ‘But what about Hector?’

  ‘Hector?’

  ‘Yes. And Susie. We have responsibilities. I cannot imagine Lady Glenlochrie will be enthused at the thought of a dog the size of Hector in her home, let alone a stray child such as Susie. I fully intend that, in time, she will become a polite and accomplished young lady, but even I cannot pretend she fits that description as yet.’

  Freddie scowled. ‘You know my opinion on that subject, Rosalind. Removing a child from her natural place in society can never be fully successful. You of all people should know that.’ He paused, then thumped his fist into his open palm. ‘Of course! Boyton will be in London. We shall make enquiries about getting her a place in that orphan asylum he mentioned.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Come, Ros. The slights we have endured through our parentage will be as nothing compared to Susie’s plight when she realises the stigma of illegitimacy.’

  Rosalind stood up, smoothing her skirts. ‘You cannot change my mind, Freddie, so you may as well give up now. Susie will remain with us.’

  ‘You are being selfish, Ros. And you know it.’

  Rosalind walked to the door. She refused to listen to another one of Freddie’s lectures. She would not abandon Susie to an uncertain life of hard toil, not when she could provide a home and love and some hope for her future.