“I shall look forward to it.”
With a final nod he strode off to find Rosamond and make her a formal offer. He had already collected from the bank the priceless heirloom always given as a betrothal ring to a future duchess. It grieved him to be handing it over to such an undisciplined girl, but he was hopeful, with firm guidance, he could mould her in a way that would better reflect the importance of his family.
Rose paced the room, racking her brains for a way she could extricate herself from this unhappy arrangement. From which ever direction she looked at it, marriage to the Duke would be an unmitigated disaster for both of them. She was not his ideal duchess and they would constantly be at loggerheads. Her nature was not to hold her tongue when she had something she thought worth saying. She had deliberately left the door open so the extra light from the oriel window opposite would brighten the room.
Firm footsteps echoed in the passageway. He would be here in a moment and she was no nearer a solution. Collapsing onto the nearest chair, she folded her skirts neatly about her ankles and placed her hands demurely in her lap. She tried to steady her breathing; her heart was pounding so loud she was all but deafened.
He paused in the doorway, blocking the light. She could not help thinking this sudden darkness was an omen. Framed as he was, he certainly looked devilish. He was dressed in a dark-blue superfine coat, beige breeches and black Hessians. The snowy white cravat frothing at his neck did little to alleviate the overall impression. Even his features were dark, his hair black as soot and his eyes matching his topcoat.
Her heart quailed; he was too much for her. Whatever he wanted, she knew she would have no option but to obey. He was born to command. What chance did a mere girl have against one so powerful?
“I have spoken to your mother and she has given me permission to address you.”
She was so dispirited she did not bother to pretend she was any happier with the arrangement than he was. “Did you expect her to do otherwise? There’s not a mama in the country who would not welcome you with open arms. You are a duke, and fabulously wealthy. Not only that, you are reasonably personable and still quite young. No doubt every young lady’s Prince Charming.”
He entered, bringing the light with him. She waited for him to show his anger at her impertinence, but to her surprise he strolled across the room and picked up an upright chair. Holding it by two fingers as if it weighed nothing at all, he spun the chair and straddled it. He folded his arms across the back, steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them.
“Thank you for your honesty. I gather that you do not share the opinion of every young lady?”
“As you appear to value the truth, I shall tell you I am appalled that a moment’s stupidity on my part has brought us to this. We both deserve better than to be shackled to each other in a loveless marriage.”
“Are you quite sure you are only approaching your eighteenth name day? You have a mature head on your young shoulders. I know it’s going to be difficult, but surely not impossible?” He stared at her. She was mesmerised. “I don’t believe any Bentley has married for love. As far as I know none of the relationships were any the worse for that.”
“That’s as may be. As long as you’re quite clear I’ve only agreed to marry you in order to save the family’s fortunes and so Millie can marry Richard Devonshire. She would have been an even worse choice than me as your bride. At least I am capable of standing up for myself if I have to.”
“My dear, your desire to help your family is laudable. However, I can assure you the only reason we are obliged to marry is because we have no other option. I am a gentleman. Whatever you might think of me, I could not stand by and see your name in shreds. I don’t think you realize your whole family would be tarnished by your disgrace. I doubt even someone as amiable as Richard would wish to ally himself to a Bannerman if that was the case.”
“Then I suppose I must thank you for your gallantry. Society is a harsh taskmaster, don’t you think? We are both to be sacrificed on the altar of etiquette, and I shall always regret what I have done.” She looked up with tear-filled eyes. “I shall do my best to be a good wife to you, try to make up for ruining your life.”
“Then it shall not be so bad – for either of us. Now, little one, there’s something I’ve yet to do.”
The formal offer—she would feel better once that had been said. But the words she expected were not spoken; instead he reached across and placed a small velvet box in her hand. She stared at it. This was too much. No offer and a betrothal ring she must place upon her own finger? He could not have made it clearer; he was fulfilling his obligations but felt not even a glimmer of affection.
She dropped the box on the carpet and scrambled to her feet. She must get away. She would not break down in front of him. She was almost at the door when his arms encircled her. Without a by-your-leave she was swept up and carried to the chaise-longue to the right of the fire. She buried her wet cheek in his shoulder for she was too miserable to struggle.
In one smooth movement he arranged himself, keeping her cradled on his lap. She must protest, get free from him, but somehow she felt safe resting there. His hand was stroking her hair and he was murmuring. “Come, sweetheart, you must not cry. I know this betrothal is not to your liking, no more it is mine. But we shall make the best of it. Who knows, in time we might feel quite differently.”
A soft white square was placed in her fingers. His kindness was even harder to accept than his indifference. She gulped, swallowed and blew her nose noisily. She shouldn’t be sitting on his lap. Such a thing was quite improper even if they were now engaged. She raised her face in order to ask to be released but the intensity of his gaze left her incapable of speech. His eyes darkened and one hand cupped her face. He was no more than a hand’s breadth from her.
He couldn’t help himself. His lips gently touched each damp eye in turn; he tasted the salt of her tears and something twisted inside him. From nowhere, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect this girl and to somehow make things right for her.
What happened was inevitable. His mouth trailed kisses across her cheek and then he found her lips with his own. He had not intended to make love to her. Until that moment that had been the last thing on his mind. But having her resting warm and heavy on his lap and seeing her tear-streaked face, he was unable to resist.
He increased the pressure and to his delight, she responded. She came alive in his arms and changed in that instant from a girl to a woman grown.
Abruptly he set her aside and moved to the window.
Damn it to hell!
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He couldn’t turn until his arousal subsided. What must she think of him?
Keeping his coattails across his embarrassment, he faced her. She was standing by the door, her face pale.
“I beg your pardon; I took shameful advantage of you. I give you my word I will not importune you in that way again.”
Her expression was frosty. “I understood our relationship was to be…to be a convenient one. I have no wish for a repeat of such intimacies. “
He nodded. “I apologise again. Perhaps we can…”
She turned her back on him. The velvet box still lay on the carpet. He had made a sad mull of things. Better to leave and return to mend his fences tomorrow. He scooped up the ring and shoved it back into his waistcoat pocket. “I bid you good day, Miss Bannerman.”
He got no response.
He could not have made his feelings plainer; no formal offer and no betrothal ring. Rose curled up on the window seat, burying her head in her knees. She would not cry again. She had shed enough tears for that man already today. She must return to the safety of her apartment before her mother came to congratulate her on her success.
As it happened, Millie developed a megrim and was unable to go to the musicale. She had planned to meet Richard so was tearful as well as poorly.
“Dearest, you must not upset yourself. You have the rest of the season to enjoy
outings with your beloved. To miss one evening is a mere bagatelle.”
“I did so want to tell him about your engagement. He would know immediately this news meant he’s free to offer for me.”
“You have only just met him, ninny. You should not be thinking of receiving an offer so soon.”
Her sister raised her head from the pillow. “You are engaged already and you do not even love Lord Bentley.”
“I had no choice, you know that. And you must promise not to tell anyone our feelings are not involved. I have no wish to damage his reputation further. After all—isn’t that what he values most?”
Rose got up early as usual to take her morning ride. Mary had left her riding clothes neatly arranged in the dressing room. It took a matter of minutes to put them on and push her feet into her riding boots. At their country estate she was allowed to ride astride so she always wore a divided skirt with her habit.
She loved the house when quiet, with only the servants scrubbing floors and dusting furniture to disturb the peace. The stable yard, even so early, was already busy. Orion, her pretty grey, greeted her enthusiastically.
“Perfect morning for a ride, miss; reckon you’ll be able to get a bit of a gallop in today.”
“I hope so, Tom. It’s been far too long since the ground was soft enough.” She turned and offered him her bent leg. He tossed her into the saddle. She rammed her boot into the single stirrup iron and gathered up the reins. Her groom mounted his gelding and they were ready to depart.
Suddenly Orion threw up her head and skittered sideways as a huge black stallion trotted in through the archway. “Good morning, my love. I hope I have not kept you waiting.”
Rose closed her mouth and settled her horse. “No, your Grace, you are not tardy. That’s a magnificent animal. I wonder if my mare will have difficulty keeping up.”
“Never fear, I shall match my pace to yours.”
They clattered out of the yard together, Tom a respectful distance behind them.
Only the road sweepers and servants hurrying on errands for their masters and mistresses were about so early in the day. Her mare danced over the cobbles, frequently swinging her hindquarters in towards the massive beast beside her.
“It would seem, your Grace, my horse has taken a fancy to your stallion. What do you call him?”
“Lucifer. Don’t raise your eyebrows, my dear, the name was not my choice. He arrived at my stud with it and will answer to none other.”
The Duke was all but irresistible when in this teasing mood. Should she forget his unkindness yesterday and begin to hope again? In no time at all they were in the park and, as expected, the place was empty. She urged Orion into a canter and seeing no other riders ahead of her she clicked her tongue.
All her worries and disappointments blew away with the sheer joy of galloping flat out. Her mare was not tall but famous for her fleetness and no animal had ever matched her speed. Then she was aware the Duke was about to overtake them, the black nose of his stallion drawing closer. She crouched in the saddle. Orion responded magnificently. For a few minutes she maintained her lead, then he was riding parallel and the race was over.
Laughing, her hair in disarray and her cap long gone, Rose transferred her weight to the back of the saddle and gently pulled the reins. Her mare obediently dropped from a gallop to a canter and then to a smooth walk. She turned to smile at her companion. “Lucifer is the first to catch us up. Can you imagine how fast any progeny of these two might be?”
“My thoughts exactly. Has your mare ever been in a foal?”
“No, she is five this summer. A perfect age—I hoped to find a suitable sire in the country but it would seem the matter has been solved for me.”
“When we are married in the autumn we can turn them out together and let nature take its course.”
Tom trotted up to meet them her lost cap in his hand. “Thank you, Tom. This is not the first time my groom has been obliged to find my headgear. For some reason, no matter how many pins I put in my hat, it always finds a way to escape.”
The Duke chuckled. “If you travelled at a more decorous speed, my love, I’m certain you would not have this problem. Now, the horses are cool, shall we canter back to the gates?”
Chapter Six
Rose was content to walk through the busier streets with the massive bulk of Lucifer on her right, her groom directly behind her. Tonight they were to attend the Ponsonby ball together and there was a point on which she needed to reassure the Duke.
“Lord Bentley, you will be relieved to hear I have removed all decoration from my ball gown. It is not an outstanding ensemble, but it will do.”
He surveyed her from top to toe, bringing colour to her cheeks. “I think we might do better than that. It would not do for the Duke of Essex to appear with his betrothed in anything but the height of fashion.”
“Are you now to have control over my wardrobe as well as my life?”
“I have extremely deep pockets, my dear girl. Allow me to indulge myself by spending my blunt on my future wife. I promise I shall send you something suitable by this afternoon.” He smiled at her expression. “Tomorrow a top modiste shall visit you; order whatever you like. A tall girl like you will dress to advantage.”
She was not sure if she was offended, or thrilled by his offer to clothe her, but she had to refuse. “I thank you for your kindness, sir, but don’t you see? I cannot be decked out in the very best when my sister and mama must make do with what we have already purchased.”
“Did I not say? Of course your sibling and your mother must replenish their wardrobes as well. I suggest that, until you have your new gowns, you refuse invitations.”
“Have you not heard the well-known saying, your Grace, that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? If you are ashamed to be seen with me as I am, then I shall, in future, only attend events at which you will not be. I bid you good morning.”
She dug her heel into the mare’s side and cantered off. Grosvenor Square was the next turning. She whisked through the archway and into the stable yard before he had time to react. Kicking her boot from the stirrup and unhooking her knee from the pommel, she dropped lightly to the cobbles. A waiting stable boy took the reins and she raced for the side door. Not a moment too soon. She heard him call her name but ignored him and headed for her apartment. Even he would not presume to accost her here.
Millie was still asleep. After a sick headache, her twin would often remain in bed until luncheon the following day. Mary, well used to her mistress’s morning activities, was waiting with hot water and fresh garments.
Rose did not mention to her mama the Duke intended to re-clothe them all. Time enough for that if it actually happened. Several times during the day she felt her mother’s eyes upon her, but nothing was said so she thought perhaps she was oversensitive. There were no callers and, most unusually, Mama did not go out to visit friends.
Her sister appeared in time for afternoon tea, a trifle pale, but otherwise fully recovered. Mama was in the process of pouring the first cup when Symonds stomped in with a large parcel in his arms. “Couldn’t knock and carry at the same time, my lady. This here has arrived for Miss Bannerman.”
His sudden entrance caused her mother’s hand to jerk and tea dropped on to the priceless carpet. A full quarter of an hour passed before order was restored, the stain removed by a diligent parlourmaid and fresh tea ready.
“My word, whatever can be in that box? Rose, aren’t you going to open it?”
“I believe I know what’s inside. Lord Bentley said he would send me something more appropriate to wear for tonight’s event. I do not want it and shall not wear it, so there’s little point in looking.”
Millie fell on the box. “In which case, I shall open it for you. Imagine, you have only been engaged since yesterday and already he is sending you presents.”
Soon the room was full of tissue. Rose tried to look disinterested but was as eager as her sister and mother to see what was in the bo
x. Millie was staring down at the contents with wide eyes. “Oh my! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. See, Rose? You will look like a fairy princess in this gown.”
Rose peered in. With trembling fingers she raised the garment. A cloud of silver spangles fell about her arms; there was no other ornamentation. The material and cut of the gown made them redundant. Slowly she stood up and held it in front of her.
“It is a perfect size for you, my love, you will look like a diamond of the first water dressed in that.”
“But, Mama, it hardly seems fair a lovely gown will change me into something I am not.”
“Fustian, my dear, and you know it. I cannot imagine how you managed to catch the eye of Lord Bentley, but it is obvious from this gift that he thinks the world of you.”
Millie had been rummaging in the box. “Look, there is a slipper bag, a silver domino and these must be the matching gloves.”
It seemed churlish to remain unmoved by all this magnificence. “I must admit for a gentleman he has exquisite taste. How he knew what size to get I cannot think.”
She was trying on the slippers when Symonds appeared for a second time. “Another delivery for Miss Bannerman. There’s a letter with this one.”
Her sister was nearest and removed the second, smaller parcel from the bad-tempered footman. Quickly removing her slippers, which fitted perfectly of course, Rose scrambled up to sit on the sofa. Should she open the letter first, or the box? Two pairs of eyes were watching her every move and she wished she could take the missive somewhere private to read.
Biting her lip, she broke the blob of wax and unfolded the crisp parchment. The black scrawl all but jumped off the page.
My dear,
I was remiss yesterday in not placing the ring upon your finger as I should have done. I hope you will forgive me. Enclosed also are the Bentley diamonds. I have spent another tedious hour recovering them from the bank.
Miss Bannerman and The Duke Page 5
