Cinderella and the Duke

by Janice Preston

  ‘I shall protect her. She will be happy.’

  Leo shook his head even as one corner of his mouth quirked up.

  ‘You are an obstinate woman, Rosalind. I have not said no.’

  ‘But it is not for you to grant permission, Your Grace. The decision is, surely, mine?’

  Far from being angry at her opposition, his eyes danced with delight. He reached for her hand and enfolded her fingers in his. ‘It will be your decision, Rosalind. I simply wish you to be acquainted with all the facts before you make it.’

  He then remained silent, watching Nell and Susie sitting together at the other end of the room, his expression giving away none of his thoughts. Rosalind took the opportunity to study his profile. There was an ageless strength in his features that projected power and nobility, together with an unquestioning acceptance of his birthright: his influence in society and his place in the world. It was that innate assurance that had attracted her to him at first meeting, but his boldness that morning in stealing a kiss from under the eyes of her maid had shaken her. She had enjoyed his kiss, but his sheer audacity in manipulating the scene to his advantage—that spoke of a man accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.

  Did he even know what it was to be filled with doubt and fear and insecurity?

  He was the Duke of Cheriton.

  He was a stranger.

  But...she remembered Leo Boyton, and their time together. That man, surely, was still somewhere inside the Duke. If she were to agree to wed him she must ensure she could find Leo Boyton again—that he had not been created for the sole purpose of seducing her.

  After a time that seemed like an eternity, Leo’s chest rose as he inhaled. He released his breath with a sigh.

  ‘Susie is not the only matter I have considered since we met in the park. Our meeting last night was a shock for both of us. May we agree to view last night’s exchanges as words uttered in the heat of the moment, to be forgiven and forgotten?’

  His silvery eyes met hers and she felt again that tug of connection, deep down inside, as their gazes fused.

  ‘Yes.’ Her throat was dry and she wished she’d had the foresight to ask Keating to send in refreshments. ‘I agree.’

  He smiled. ‘We belong together, sweetheart. This morning’s encounter only served to strengthen my conviction, but I cannot deny your reluctance.’

  He circled her palm lazily with his thumb. Rosalind forced herself to concentrate on his words and away from the sparks of desire shooting up her arm and heating her body, tightening her skin.

  ‘Last night and again this morning you said, “I cannot”. You did not say no. You did not say “I will not”. I cannot. Why can you not marry me, Rosalind? I know you are not indifferent to me. Tell me what you are afraid of and I will banish your fears.’

  So full of self-confidence: an intrinsic part of him, but the trait that also made it hard to confide in him.

  Uncertainty held her tongue.

  ‘Well, I shall not press you for your answer.’ Leo stood, towering over her. ‘You have only just arrived in town and everything must feel strange. I will give you time to think over what I have said. You need time to adjust and I hope you will come to see that I only have your best interests at heart. I shall see you soon.’

  He bowed to Rosalind and again to Nell, and left the room, leaving Rosalind’s head spinning with indecision. She sent Nell and Susie upstairs to visit Lady Glenlochrie and used the quiet to try and decide whether her feelings for Leo were enough to overcome her fear of such an unequal marriage and her distaste for the society he represented. He showed no hesitation over their different places in society, so why did she waver? It did not follow that, because one such marriage had been unhappy, every such union would suffer. Had she allowed her anger with her maternal relatives and, more recently, Sir Peter Tadlow and his cronies to sour her opinion of all aristocrats? After all, Step-Papa had been kindness itself to her and Freddie, even after their mother died. Nell and Jack’s mother had accepted them and even Leo’s family did not appear to think any the worse of her.

  Perhaps her long-held prejudices were wrong.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, the door opened and Freddie limped into the room with Hector at his heels. Her brother’s cheeks were flushed above a huge grin. When had she last seen him so excited? She sent him a quizzical look.

  ‘Ros! You will never guess what has happened.’

  His delight was infectious and Rosalind put aside her troubles. ‘No, I dare say I never shall. Will you tell me?’

  ‘The Duke asked to see me after he left you. Ros...he needs a secretary and he offered me the position!’ He struck a pose. ‘I am now employed by the Duke of Cheriton. Oh, I still cannot get used to calling him that. Is it not strange we were befriended by such a high-born aristocrat and yet we had no idea of it?’

  Rosalind stared. ‘Employed? By the Duke? Is this a jest?’ She pressed her hands to her stomach in a futile attempt to quell the turmoil within. ‘You have no need to work, Freddie. Step-Papa left us both enough income to live comfortably.’

  ‘Stuff living comfortably! Just think. I shall be privy to all manner of information. Cheriton sits in the Lords, you know. And he said that if I am interested in politics and show an aptitude, I could become a Member of Parliament. What do you think of that, Ros? Your brother, a Mem—Ros? What is it? You’ve gone very pale.’

  Hot tears scalded behind her eyes, but Rosalind forced a smile, shaking her head.

  ‘I thought you would be pleased for me, Ros.’ Freddie sat beside her, and clasped her hand in both of his. ‘You know how bored I have been. I know we have enough income from the trusts Step-Papa set up, but it is not about the money. I will finally have some purpose to my life.’

  What about me?

  She longed to scream the words, to use the air that was trapped in her burning lungs to power her protest into the atmosphere, but she swallowed both words and emotion down. She could not dampen Freddie’s joy by revealing the panic that enveloped her, banishing any hope for the future from her heart. Her future which—whatever happened to Nell and Jack—had always included Freddie.

  You are being a hypocrite. Not ten minutes since you were contemplating marrying Leo. What of Freddie then?

  Freddie would have come with me. I would never have left him.

  But he will be with you now, if you do marry Leo.

  And if I do not? What will happen then?

  Her options had shrunk alarmingly with this news.

  ‘Of course I am pleased for you,’ she said. ‘It was something of a shock.’ A ray of hope flickered. ‘Is your employment to be temporary, whilst we are in London?’

  ‘I should say not! It is a permanent post, Ros. And I am to live at Beauchamp House whilst the Duke is in town and at his estate in Devonshire when he goes to the country.’

  He has stolen my brother from me.

  Anger stirred as Rosalind’s scurrying thoughts slowed and steadied. How dare Leo come here and break her family apart? Was this his way of ensuring she accepted his offer, by enticing Freddie away with an offer he could not refuse? He knew how close she and Freddie were. Freddie needed her. No one could care for him like she did. She had been as a mother to him, not a sister. But as quickly as that anger flared, it fizzled out again. She loved Freddie. She wanted him to be happy. And he was. She must accept what had happened, but that did not mean she had to be happy about the way it had happened. Why, Leo had not even had the courtesy to mention his plan to her, let alone discuss it.

  Did she not have a right to know? Was this what she might expect if she accepted his offer of marriage? A future of arrogant, high-handed decisions made without reference to or consultation with anyone? With her?

  She smiled at her brother. Her questions and resentment were for Leo, not
him.

  ‘It sounds very exciting, Freddie. When do you start?’

  ‘Immediately. I’m off to tell Nell and Lady G, and then I shall pack my valise. Cheriton is sending his carriage for me at two.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Lydney carriage deposited Rosalind and Nell, together with a footman to carry their purchases, outside Grafton House on the corner of New Bond Street and Grafton Street. The pavement was thronged with pedestrians, the road itself crammed with all manner of vehicles, from elegant carriages to lumbering coal wagons. Rosalind viewed the scene with distaste, in the mood to find fault with everything after waving goodbye to Freddie half an hour ago.

  After their excitedly waving brother had disappeared from view, Nell had taken one look at Rosalind and enveloped her in a hug.

  ‘We shall go shopping. That will take your mind off Freddie.’

  She had refused to take no for an answer, harrying Rosalind without pause until she finally capitulated in sheer desperation.

  Their first call was Wilding & Kent, where Lady Glenlochrie had commissioned them to purchase a length of Irish poplin on her behalf, as she had a fancy to have a new day dress made up. Despite her misery, Rosalind could not help but marvel at the sheer number of beautiful fabrics available to purchase. The shop heaved with customers, beleaguered shop assistants running hither and thither in their efforts to satisfy their customers’ every demand.

  ‘It appears we shall have a long wait,’ Rosalind said, as she and Nell worked their way further into the shop.

  Eventually, they emerged from Wilding & Kent and made their way along New Bond Street, where the crowds were mercifully thinner.

  ‘Helena!’ A round, smiling face appeared before them. ‘And Miss Allen. How do you do?’

  ‘Lizzie, what a lovely surprise.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Tubthorpe.’

  As the two girls chattered, Rosalind scanned the nearby faces until she located Lady Tubthorpe, standing to one side in conversation with a stout, fashionably dressed matron. Lady Tubthorpe caught sight of Rosalind at the same time and waved her over.

  ‘Here is Miss Allen, newly arrived in town. Allow me to introduce you. Lady Tring, Miss Allen.’

  Rosalind’s mouth dried and her hands turned clammy inside her gloves. This was her worst nightmare: a face-to-face introduction to her mother’s eldest sister. If only she had realised whom Lady Tubthorpe had been talking to.

  Her Aunt Henrietta—the Countess of Tring since her marriage—looked her up and down.

  ‘Miss Allen?’ Her gaze narrowed, flitting past Rosalind to where Nell still stood with Lizzie Tubthorpe. Her nostrils flared and she stepped back, actually sweeping her skirts aside with one hand. Lady Tubthorpe’s expression changed to one of bewilderment as Lady Tring continued, ‘This is an introduction I cannot accept, Louisa. Pray, excuse me.’

  ‘Well, I am sure I cannot see any objection to Miss Allen,’ Lady Tubthorpe said. ‘Not when we made her acquaintance at Beauchamp House last evening.’

  Her words prompted Lady Tring’s eyebrows to shoot skywards.

  ‘Lady Tring.’ Nell was by Rosalind’s side in an instant, dropping a curtsy. ‘I trust you are well?’

  Her ladyship hesitated and Rosalind took pleasure at her predicament. She could not cut Nell—Lady Glenlochrie would not take kindly to her niece being snubbed.

  ‘Lady Helena. Good afternoon,’ she said in a strangled voice.

  ‘My dear sister, Rosalind, has come to town to chaperon me for my come-out, after my Aunt Glenlochrie broke her leg,’ Nell said. ‘Is that not kind of her?’

  Stone-faced, Lady Tring inclined her head. At that moment, a masculine voice intruded.

  ‘Miss Allen, is it not?’

  The contents of Rosalind’s stomach curdled, leaving her queasy. Lascelles. Could this day get any worse? She forced a smile as he moved to stand between Nell and Lizzie and bowed to each of the group in turn.

  ‘I beg your pardon for the interruption, ladies, but I was unaware until earlier today that Miss Allen was in London and, having spied her from the other side of the road, I could not resist crossing over to pay my respects.’

  Miss Allen. Leo must have kept his promise and warned him of my change in name.

  ‘How do you do, Mr Lascelles,’ Lady Tring said.

  Rosalind stared at the warmth in her voice. It was clear both she and Lady Tubthorpe were previously acquainted with Lascelles. Rosalind performed the introduction to Nell, her brain churning.

  So neither Freddie nor I are respectable enough for my aunt to acknowledge, but Lascelles, who was born out of wedlock, is perfectly acceptable?

  This encounter would not have been Rosalind’s choice but, now it had happened, she was unable to resist a mischievous urge to further discompose her aunt.

  ‘Your nephew, Freddie, is also in town,’ she said, facing her squarely, chin up. ‘And, as of this afternoon, he is employed by the Duke of Cheriton as his secretary. Is that not splendid news?’

  ‘Nephew?’ Lady Tubthorpe’s mouth hung open.

  ‘Indeed.’ Rosalind warmed to her role. This would teach her aunt to disown Mama all those years ago. ‘My mother was Lady Tring’s younger sister.’

  ‘You must be proud of your young relatives, my lady,’ Lascelles drawled. ‘When my Cousin Cheriton informed me Mr and Miss Allen had come up to town, he made particular mention of their Hillyer connection and how delighted you will be to renew your acquaintance with them.’

  Lady Tring turned puce under her orange turban. ‘I do declare—’

  ‘Well, of a certainty she is delighted,’ Lady Tubthorpe said, looking anxiously from Rosalind to Lascelles to Lady Tring and back again. She linked her arm through that of Lady Tring. ‘I do beg your pardon, but I fear we must take our leave. It has been a pleasure to see you again so soon, Miss Allen. Come, Lizzie. Say your goodbyes to Lady Helena. Good day, sir.’

  She nodded at Lascelles and then bustled Lady Tring away. Lizzie, with a shrug of her shoulders at Nell, followed. Rosalind bit back a laugh as she watched them go.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Lascelles.’ It went against the grain to thank him, but he had done her a service. ‘Your arrival proved most timely.’

  ‘Horrid woman,’ Nell said. ‘I wonder that you did not give her the cut direct, Ros. And I add my thanks to my sister’s, sir. That was a splendid notion, mentioning the Duke. Did you see her expression?’

  ‘No need to thank me, ladies. It was my absolute pleasure. May I offer you my escort to your next destination?’

  She could hardly refuse, but Rosalind remained wary, their very first encounter stamped upon her memory. She pretended she did not notice Lascelles’s proffered arm as they all three strolled along New Bond Street.

  ‘Is this your first visit to London, Miss Allen?’

  ‘It is, although my sister has been before, when she was younger,’ Rosalind said. ‘This is her first Season, however.’

  ‘And I cannot wait for my come-out ball and to be presented to the Queen,’ Nell said. ‘Oh! Look, Ros. Are those parasols not darling?’

  She darted across the pavement and almost pressed her nose against a nearby shop window. Rosalind and Lascelles followed slowly in her wake.

  ‘If your sister’s aunt is incapacitated, how is Lady Helena to be presented at Court? I assume—forgive me—that you will not be able to do so?’

  ‘You assume correctly, sir. We are lucky in that Helena has formed a close friendship with your cousin’s daughter, Lady Olivia. Lady Cecily has offered to present both girls in the Queen’s drawing room.’

  ‘Ah, Cousin Cecily. That is lucky indeed, but it is unfortunate you will be forced to miss the occasion.’

  ‘As I expected to miss Helena’s entire Season, I am not disheartened by my ex
clusion from that particular event.’

  She paused. Should she broach such a subject? Curiosity got the better of her.

  ‘I hope you will not object to my next question, sir, but I was puzzled that my Aunt Tring appeared more accepting of you than she is of her own sister’s children.’

  Lascelles laughed; a bitter sound. ‘Oh, I am tolerated in some circles. Cheriton deigns to notice me and others, keen to toad-eat my cousin, follow his lead, but I do not fool myself that I shall ever be fully accepted in society.

  ‘You and I have something in common, Miss Allen. We are condemned for ever to be on the outside looking in.’

  ‘Except that I, for one, have no desire to be on the inside, sir. I am content with my life.’

  At Nell’s urging they entered the shop, where she purchased a pretty pink parasol, edged with Honiton lace.

  ‘It is a gift for you,’ Nell said to Rosalind, as she handed the package to the footman who still silently dogged their heels.

  ‘But...Nell...I have no need of another parasol,’ Rosalind said. ‘I already have one and—’

  ‘One is not enough. You cannot carry the same one every day.’

  Rosalind raised her brows at Lascelles, who shrugged as he held the door open for Rosalind and Nell to exit the shop. ‘Your sister is a lively young lady,’ he said, low-voiced, as Rosalind passed.

  Out on the street once more, Rosalind said, ‘Is she too lively? Ought I to contain her high spirits?’

  ‘I am hardly the person from whom to seek advice about correct behaviour,’ Lascelles said. ‘Particularly that of young ladies. If you feel in need of guidance, there can be no better person to consult than my Cousin Cecily.’

  ‘We have arranged to meet her and Lady Olivia in the park later,’ Rosalind said. ‘I shall take the opportunity to ask her advice.’

  ‘Speaking of my cousins,’ Lascelles said, ‘I was surprised to hear Cheriton had appointed your brother as secretary. I wonder what happened to Capper?’