by Bree Wolf
Chapter Ten − A Version of the Truth
Two days later, hushed voices and hidden stares followed in their wake as they made their rounds at Lord Fenton’s ball, which was quite understandable for it had been years since both brothers had appeared together at a societal function.
Amused, Charles watched his brother fumble for words when his old friends greeted him, speaking to him about new archaeological discoveries as well as their meaning for future application.
“No offence, Brother,” Robert whispered, “but these people are mind-numbingly boring. How you have survived years of their company is beyond me!”
Not saying a word, Charles just smiled, enjoying his brother’s miserable face as he and Isabella engaged in conversation about Mr. Young’s work on the Rosetta Stone.
Feeling more at ease in the company of his brother and sister-in-law, Charles swallowed when Mr. Lawson escorted Rose into the ballroom. Dressed in an emerald gown, she walked as though on air, her steps graceful and light. Her eyes, however, held no sparkle, and her lips failed to smile.
Wondering about the reason for her subdued spirits, Charles pointed her out to his brother.
Squinting his eyes, Robert looked closely, his eyes sweeping over her as Charles held his breath. “I can honestly say I have never seen that woman before,” came Robert’s assessment after a small eternity, and a wave of relief washed over Charles.
“Are you certain?” Isabella asked.
“Of course, I am,” he confirmed, wiggling his eyebrows. “I would certainly have remembered her.”
With a smile on her face, Isabella elbowed him good-naturedly while Charles felt his insides twist and turn. Although he now knew that nothing had ever happened between them, the thought of Robert with his Rose turned his stomach upside down.
“Brother,” Robert addressed him, “may I ask why you failed to tell us that you’re in love with this woman?”
As his jaw dropped open and he stared at his brother’s smiling face, Charles felt the world crashing down around him. Regaining his composure, his jaw clenched and he opened his mouth to speak.
“There is no point in arguing,” his brother interjected. “It is rather obvious, which in turn makes me wonder why we are really here: to protect our secret or convince the woman you love that you are not a scandalous weasel.”
Closing his eyes for a moment, Charles drew a deep breath.
A smile on her face, Isabella stepped forward, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “Why don’t you introduce us?”
Charles nodded his head, then turned and headed toward Mr. Lawson and Rose. There was no point in arguing with his brother, especially not in public. First, they needed to find out what had transpired between Robert and Mrs. Diana Reignold, then he would think about his feelings for Rose.
Instantly, his heart called him a liar, reminding him that he knew perfectly well how he felt about her.
“Lord Norwood.” Mr. Lawson greeted them with a surprised smile on his face. “I dare say the resemblance is uncanny.”
“Allow me to re-introduce my brother, Charles Dashwood, and his wife Isabella.”
While pleasantries were exchanged, Rose remained rather quiet. However, her calm eyes became suddenly lively as they darted back and forth between him and his brother. A small frown settled on her face, and Charles felt a stab of jealousy, fearing that his brother’s charm had the same effect on her as it did on so many others.
***
“I admit I am quite surprised to see you here,” Rose said, glancing at the two brothers in conversation with her father, as she and Isabella Dashwood procured themselves a glass of punch from the refreshment table. “Your brother-in-law did not mention that you were to return so soon.”
“Well, he could not have told you for he did not know,” Isabella admitted, a genuine smile on her kind features. “It was a rather spontaneous decision.”
As her eyes returned to the two men almost identical in appearance, Rose could not help but wonder about the sense of oddity that she couldn’t seem to shake. Why had Charles Dashwood and his wife returned? Had Lord Norwood asked for their assistance? Shaking her head, Rose laughed about her distrustful mind.
“He cares about you,” Isabella said unexpectedly.
Surprised, Rose turned back to face Isabella, regarding her openly. “Why are you telling me this?”
A soft smile touched the woman’s lips. “Because I think you care about him as well.”
Averting her gaze, Rose cleared her throat as her heart hammered in her chest. “It does not matter how he feels or how…I feel, for that matter. He is not the kind of man I would ever consider.”
“I see.” Stepping around Rose, Isabella met her eyes. “May I ask what ruined your opinion of him?”
Staring at her, Rose shook her head. “Why do you not ask him? He is the one who can tell you what happened.”
“Because I want to hear your account,” Isabella said. “After all, men tend to see things differently than women.”
Searching her face, Rose nodded, seeing no reason not to relate Diana’s version of that night. After all, Lord Norwood could easily provide or probably already had provided his own narration, very likely painting himself the victim of a love-struck girl.
For a second, Rose wondered if Diana’s account was accurate after all.
“All right,” she relented, drawing Isabella away from the crowd so as to avoid anyone overhearing their conversation. “Three years ago at a ball like this one, he lured my cousin into the gardens,” with some satisfaction, she watched Isabella’s eyes grow round, “took his liberties with her, and then refused to marry her.”
“I see.” Taking a deep breath, Isabella nodded her head, her face suddenly serious, all tenderness vanished.
“My aunt and uncle hoped to avoid a scandal,” Rose continued, feeling the need to explain her cousin’s hopeless situation in all detail, “however, soon after that night, the rumours started-someone must have seen what happened−and from one day to the next, all her prospects vanished. The man she is married to today is not the man she would have chosen.”
“I am very sorry for your cousin,” Isabella said, and Rose could see her honest dismay over what she had just learnt. “However, in my heart, I know that there is more to the story than you are aware of, and so I beg of you, do not shut him out of your heart, but allow him to explain what happened.”
Rather dumbfounded, Rose stared at the strained expression on Isabella’s face. After everything she had heard, how could she still defend him?
Chapter Eleven − A Late Confession
Lying awake long past midnight, Rose thought back to the rather strange occurrences at Lord Fenton’s ball that night. While she had expected to find Lord Norwood among the guests, she had been thoroughly surprised to see that his brother and sister-in-law were also in attendance, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.
Although Isabella’s explanation of it having been a spontaneous decision was perfectly reasonable, Rose could not shake the feeling that she herself was the reason for their hasty return. Had Lord Norwood called them home? Why would he do such a thing, though?
As the night of the supper invitation rose to the forefront of her mind, Rose rolled onto her side, her lips tingling with the memory of his kiss. Remembering her own surrender to his charms, Rose felt a hot flash rise to her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands. Never would she have thought that a man could have such power over her!
Although Rose wished she could despise him, deep down she knew that she did not. If circumstances had been different, she would have welcomed his pursuit of her whole-heartedly.
I love you, dear Rose.
His whispered words echoed in her mind, and a touched smile spread over her face. Had she been wrong to accuse him of improper intentions? Did he truly care for her?
That thought had continued to plague her until the moment Diana and her husband had entered the ballroom at Lord Fenton’s townhouse
.
Immediately, Lord Norwood had hastened to his brother’s side, inconspicuously pointing them out. If she had not watched them so thoroughly, Rose would never have noticed how deeply the arrival of her cousin had affected the two men.
In hushed whispers, they had spoken to each other, their eyes repeatedly returning to Diana and occasionally to her, Rose, until they had become aware of her watching them.
Then they had quickly summoned their carriage and departed hastily as though time was of the essence.
Staying behind, a frown had come to Rose’s face, and the rest of the evening she was barely aware of the music or the dancers around her. Absentmindedly, she had answered questions and replied to enquiries from her acquaintances.
However, she could not help but feel her father’s watchful eyes resting upon her, a concerned frown drawing down his own brows.
Something was going on. Something to which she was not privy, and Rose could not shake the feeling that somehow it was important for her to know.
Lying in her bed in the dark, faces danced before her eyes, and Rose squinted her eyes, sensing that if she looked hard enough, she would see the thing that escaped her, the thing that would allow everything to fall into place.
As she pictured Lord Norwood’s face, her heart began to thud in her chest and her breathing quickened. His eyes looked at her, serious, and yet, kind and honest, matching the faint smile that spoke of a passionate nature, concealed under proper manners and conduct. And yet, everything she knew about him, everything she had heard told about his scandalous endeavours, painted a different picture.
A picture that seemed to match his brother.
Although Rose had barely exchanged a word with him, it had been rather obvious that he had no interest in archaeological research. While he had nodded and smiled along to her father’s explanations, the look in his eyes had spoken of sheer boredom. Contrary to his brother, Lord Norwood though had displayed rapt attention.
Rose chuckled. If she didn’t know it to be impossible, she would have thought that the man she had lost her heart to−despite her best efforts to prevent it−was not Lord Norwood, but his brother Charles.
***
“Robert, you need to explain this!” Isabella insisted, the expression on her face strained despite her outward calm. “In my heart, I do not believe what Miss Lawson told me to be true; however, I am not so naive as to believe that you did not earn the reputation you have.”
For once, his brother’s face was serious, and Charles could see the tension in his jaw as he swallowed before reaching for his wife’s hands.
After Charles had pointed out Rose’s cousin Diana, his brother’s reaction had been quite telling, and they had immediately returned home in order to discuss the details in private. While silence had rested heavily on their shoulders the entire carriage ride, now safely away from prying eyes and ears in his study, the truth would finally be heard.
Placing his trembling hands on the chair, Charles took a deep breath, uncertain if he was ready to hear what his brother had to say.
“What did she tell you?” Robert asked, his eyes never veering from his wife’s face.
Isabella swallowed. “She said that three years ago at a ball you lured her cousin outside, compromised her and then refused to marry her.”
“What?” the brothers asked in unison.
However, while Charles felt shaken to the core about this revelation, finding himself doubting his brother’s character, Robert’s face spoke of disbelief and even outrage.
Seeing his reaction, Charles felt his own nerves relax; this couldn’t be true.
“Is that not what happened?” Isabella asked, her eyes hopeful as they searched her husband’s face.
Wrapping his own hands tighter around hers, Robert held her gaze and quietly said, “No, it is not. Please allow me to explain.”
Isabella nodded.
“Thank you.” Relief marking his features, Robert took a deep breath.
Never in his life had Charles seen his brother so terrified of losing someone’s good opinion, and a smile touched his face as he realised how much Isabella’s love had changed the man Robert used to be.
“Three years ago,” Robert began, “I was a different man.” His eyes begged his wife to believe him. “Yes, I did have affairs−I will not deny that−but not with Diana Lawson…or Reignold. She was a young debutante, and I knew that she was…rather taken with me.” For a moment, Robert actually looked embarrassed. “She would follow me around, try to engage me in conversation and have me ask her to dance.” He took a deep breath. “She was eighteen, but she was…young for eighteen. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, looking from his wife to his brother. “She was not mature at all, not like Rose.”
Charles nodded, understanding exactly what his brother meant for never before had a young girl caught his attention, not until Rose.
As young as she was, she was an old soul, wise in her ways.
“Then what happened?” Isabella asked, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. “I assume you did not lure her outside.”
Shaking his head, Robert closed his eyes, a rather exasperated snort leaving his lips. “No, I did not. I…,” he licked his lips, “I went out into the gardens to…meet someone, but not Diana Lawson. I had no idea she followed me. I don’t know why she would have. I never said a word to her.”
Isabella sighed, and understanding began to shine in her eyes. “She might have thought you returned her affections. Young girls are often swept away by a romantic ideal of true love.”
“Are you thinking of Adriana?” Robert asked, a soft smile on his face.
Isabella nodded. “I do not remember how often she had her heart broken after she had convinced herself that a gentleman returned her love.” Sighing, Isabella shook her head. “And yet, to this day, she believes that love is waiting just around the corner. I used to think her foolish for believing so.” Gazing into her husband’s eyes, she smiled. “I don’t anymore.”
“May I ask who you were meeting in the gardens?” Charles asked, a suspicion forming in his mind.
Gritting his teeth, Robert looked at his wife, an apologetic expression on his face, before he turned to his brother. “It was Lady Dunston.”
Charles nodded, remembering the lady’s insistence to renew their acquaintance at a ball a few weeks ago. If she had been waiting in the gardens, she would have seen Robert and Diana together. “Then I suppose it was she who spread the rumours.”
Robert nodded. “If she saw us, then, yes, she would not have kept it a secret. The only secrets she ever kept were her own.”
“Then tell us what she saw,” Isabella said, a hint of tension still visible in the curl of her lips.
“Of course.” Robert took a deep breath. “I was waiting by the pavilion. At first, I didn’t hear her, at least, not until she was standing behind me and I felt her hands run down my back.” His eyes became imploring. “I thought it was she. I thought it was Lady Dunston. I would never have assumed someone else might have−”
“It is all right,” Isabella said, placing her hand on his arm. “Tell us what happened.”
Robert nodded. “I turned around, and I…I kissed her.” He shrugged apologetically. “I suppose it took me a moment to realise it was not Lady Dunston. I stepped back, and I was quite taken aback to see Miss Lawson. Before I could explain or rather demand an explanation, her parents came upon us. Her father instantly expected me to ask for her hand, which, of course, I did not.”
Closing her eyes, Isabella shook her head. “If she truly believed that you loved her, the poor girl must have been devastated when you refused to marry her.”
“Possibly,” Robert acknowledged. “However, what should I have done? Forgive me, but I was not about to ruin my life because some love-struck debutante thought she could manipulate me into marrying her.”
“Do you truly believe that she tried to force your hand?” Charles asked. “From what I saw in her own reaction
to my sudden reappearance in society as well as Rose’s, she is still haunted by what happened that night, and she blames you for making a promise you didn’t honour.”
“I did not, though,” Robert insisted.
“I believe you, Brother,” Charles said. “However, that does not change anything.”
“But does it matter?” Isabella asked. “Judging from Miss Lawson’s reaction, you thought that she might discover that you are not who you claim to be. Considering the circumstances, however, I believe that to be unlikely. She dislikes you for treating her cousin poorly and, therefore, will probably avoid any connection with you in the future.” Glancing from one brother to the other, Isabella shrugged. “I do not believe her to be a danger to our secret.”
“Neither do I,” Charles mumbled, relieved that his brother’s name was cleared, at least within their small circle.
“But that is not the problem, is it?” Robert asked, a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth as he looked at Charles. “She still thinks you a scoundrel.”
“Does that bother you that much?” Isabella asked, a faint twinkle in her eyes as she turned to Charles. “Is her opinion of such importance to you? I thought you barely knew her.”
Finding himself cornered, Charles looked from his brother to Isabella, knowing exactly what they wanted him to admit. His lips pressed into a thin line, he raked his hands through his hair. “Fine,” he snapped as the ache in his heart grew. “I…I care for her. She is…I…”
Stepping toward him, Isabella placed her hands on his arm, a warm smile on her face. “She is the one, is she not?”
Meeting her eyes, Charles nodded.
Robert chuckled, “My little brother in love. I never thought I’d live to see that day.”
Slapping her husband on the arm, Isabella shook her head. “You of all people should know how your brother feels right now. Instead of laughing about his misery, you should use that over-sized head of yours and think of a solution to this mess.”
