A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke

by Hazel Linwood

  Henry’s eyes widened as he looked at the young woman, a grin playing around his lips.

  “Is that the case?”

  She nodded with a grin. “Indeed. And for you both to hasten to find it, in the same church Rowena presently is in, was rather obvious as well.”

  They were approaching the entrance as the shadow of the large church fell over them, taking away from of the sting of the heat.

  “So, you decided to come to the rescue?” There was sarcasm in Henry’s voice, but Christopher knew by way he looked at Lady Catherine that he did not dislike her quite as much as he’d claimed. The opposite, in fact.

  “I have decided to save my sister from having to spend her life with a man she does not love and who is, to say the least, insufferable.” She glanced back at them, determination on her small, round face.

  “Perhaps if she gets to choose the husband she wants, so can I.” She shrugged as she stepped through the front door of the church, the group falling silent as they followed.

  Then, as his eyes adjusted to the dark, Christopher saw her and once more, his heart leapt.

  Chapter 20

  Rowena sat in the pew beside her sister-in-law. She’d never been particularly close to Margaret. She was a nice enough woman but a rather plain girl, raised to be nothing but a wife. To be obedient, loyal, and perfect.

  Rather like me. Yes, it is true, Margaret is just like me. A plain, boring, perfect wife of the ton.

  Rowena shook her head at the realization. Still, it was not her concern at this very moment. No. Right now her fear, her worry, were not for herself but for Betsy.

  She glanced at her sister-in-law.

  “Thank you for telling me,” she squeezed Margaret’s arm.

  “I grappled with it. I like Betsy well enough, but I do not know her as you do and I do not want to alarm her unnecessary. But being close to Lady Portsmouth as I am–” She shook her head and sighed, placing her hand over her belly as she often did these days.

  “It must be difficult for her,” Rowena said when the sound of a door opening drew her attention.

  She turned back, expecting worshipers to enter for the next service. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw that it was not a stranger, looking to pray, but her sister, Catherine. Followed by none other than Christopher and his brother, Mister Newmont. Beside her, she realized Margaret had been talking and she’d heard not a word of it.

  “I am sorry, dear. What was that?”

  Margaret looked up at her, a small smile on her thin lips. Her eyes were round and amber colored. Usually they stood out, giving her face a unique appearance. Today however, her eyes looked as tired as the rest of her.

  “I was just saying how fortunate I am to have wed your brother. I cannot imagine being stuck in a marriage with a rake like Lord Portsmouth. Lisbeth is ever so miserable with him, and yet can do nothing but endure.”

  Rowena swallowed, filled with gratitude that her brother had grown into an honorable man who did right by his wife. Along with the gratitude came a wave of fear once more. Fear for Betsy who was now stuck in a house with a man who, if Margaret was right, viewed his servants as his property–the female ones in particular.

  She glanced back at Christopher and her sister, frowning as they entered her line of sight.

  What are they all doing here? Certainly, they have not all come for me.

  “Catherine,” Margaret’s voice filled the empty space in the church.

  “Margaret, are you well?” Catherine asked as she slid into the pew beside them.

  “Faith, no. I am swollen and ready to hold this child in my arms, but apart from that I am as well as can be expected. Have you come for us?”

  Catherine locked eyes with Rowena when replying.

  “I have come to assist the Duke’s brother in search of his watch.”

  Rowena listened with her eyes narrowed as her sister told the tale of the missing watch. All the while she kept the Duke in sight. Suddenly, an idea rose inside of her.

  “I shall assist them. Catherine, why don’t you escort Margaret back to our parents. She is ever so tired. It’s been a vexing day.”

  “Perhaps we can take the air in the shade a little, Margaret. What do you say? We can sit on the bench by the lake and watch the ducks before rejoining the others.”

  Margaret nodded and rose, assisted by Catherine. “Indeed, that is a lovely idea. I could use some air; these old churches are ever so stuffy.”

  As she made her way down the aisle she stopped in front of Christopher. “Your Grace, thank you again for the assistance. It would have to be on a hot day such as today when our carriage broke down.” She curtsied. “You are a blessing upon this family, Your Grace.”

  Christopher bowed and bade her farewell as Margaret and Catherine made their way out of the church, leaving Rowena alone in the church with Christopher and his brother.

  Rowena had longed to be alone with him again ever since their sudden separation at the dinner. However, now that she was opposite him, she felt herself swept away by a wave of emotion. It felt good to be near him, all alone with him save for his brother who had made his way to the opposite end of the church. He stood to the side in front of a painting, pretending to be captivated by the artwork.

  “Your Grace,” she smiled at him, suddenly at a loss for words.

  “Lady Rowena, I am ever so pleased to see you again. I have longed to…” his words trailed off and he tilted his head to one side, squinting at her, “something is the matter. Is it I? Is my presence troubling you? I assure you I had no intention to make you uncomfortable. It is just that I–” He hesitated and she watched as he bit his lip, like an unsure schoolboy.

  Despite her bad mood, it made her smile to see him so suddenly shy and unsure, for she felt the same whenever she was near him.

  “It is just what, Your Grace?”

  He blinked and looked at a her, a sparkle now in his eyes.

  “It is just that I have longed to be alone with you ever since our evening last week and I have not had the opportunity. I…I know we have only known one another a short period of time, but I must confess that I think of you day and night and I do not care that it isn’t right to tell you what I think. I do not care that–”

  To her own surprise, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

  “I feel the same,” she heard herself say. Shocked that such words had crossed her lips, and for a man she was not promised to at that, Rowena cast her eyes down. Her heart beat out of her chest. She felt him place his hand over hers, squeezing it gently.

  “I cannot tell you how much it means to me to hear these words.”

  She looked up, sadness settling in her eyes.

  “And yet, you know that there is nothing we can do about these feelings. You saw this for yourself today. My family is settled on my marriage to the Duke of Thornmouth. I am not in a position to make my own choice. And Lord Thornmouth is to make an offer of marriage soon, as you heard. My Father told me the Duke has requested an audience to discuss the terms after the trial.”

  She could tell by the sharp intake of air that Christopher had been unaware of this development. She had longed for nothing but to get away from Thornmouth all day. While his affection for her rang true, she’d wanted to be near Christopher, stand beside him, and talk to him as they did now.

  “Come, sit with me,” he said and led her to the pew to their left. As they sat, she found herself shocked at the closeness with which they took their seats. He was so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating of his body. When she moved their legs briefly touched, sending shockwaves up her spine.

  “I will do all I can to keep the Duke from making an official offer. He will have to wait for some time now, in any case. He will be required in Cambridgeshire for some time. And we will be in Shropshire.”

  Her big, brown eyes that were so soulful blinked at him. He smiled and filled her in on the events she had missed.

  He has thought it all ou
t. While I have been pondering over my feelings, unsure of what the future holds, he has planned out everything in detail.

  She smiled at him and found herself, rather boldly, reaching for his hand. Noticing, he clasped it at once and their fingers intertwined. As happy as she was to be near him, and alone with him at last, she could not drive the heaviness that the conversation with Margaret had brought from her heart. And he noticed.

  “You still have not told me what weighs upon you so. Please, let me share the burden of your worries.”

  She sighed and leaned back, knowing there was not much time. Catherine could only keep Margaret occupied with the ducks for so long. In no time at all they would have to join her family again, and if the Duke and his brother continued to be missing, someone would come looking. They could not find them sitting in the church like this. No. There was no way. If she was to confide in him, she’d have to do so now, and quickly.

  “You remember my friend, Betsy Carmichael?” she asked and he nodded eagerly.

  “Of course, she is the one who so graciously saved us from discovery. She took a position with Lord Portsmouth, I believe.”

  Rowena found herself relieved that he remembered as much as he did. “She has departed already. Today was the first day I have seen her since she left. And while she appears happy, I have received news, via my sister-in-law, that have left me wracked with worry.” She looked around the almost-empty church before leaning in.

  “Margaret is close friends with Lady Portsmouth and she has told me that Lord Portsmouth…well. He has not just a roving eye, but he is rather personal with his servants. And…” she swallowed as the horror of Margaret’s revelation resurfaced, “Margaret told me that he has thus far not been able to keep away from any of the governesses they have employed. He charms them. He…one he made with child and put her out of the house.”

  She shook her head. “And this is not the on dit. Margaret knows this from Lady Portsmouth herself. The poor woman is wracked with having to live with a man such as Lord Portsmouth, although it is her burden to carry. I feel for her. However, I fear for Betsy for Lady Portsmouth told Margaret her husband has already commented on Betsy’s beauty.”

  He squeezed her hand as she told him all she’d learned. “I do not know what to do. Betsy is not the kind of girl who would give in to the seduction of a married man. I fear what will happen when he inevitably turns his attentions to her, and she refuses.”

  He sighed, lessening the grip on her hand. When their eyes locked, she saw genuine compassion in them.

  “I must admit, I too have heard these stories about Lord Portsmouth. It is not unusual for a noble man to take advantage of their servants, nor unusual for them to end up with child. However, I have heard Portsmouth does not take rejection well.” He hesitated and she could tell that he was holding back.

  “You have heard this about Lord Portsmouth from other lords?”

  He nodded, “It was all the on dit, unlike your revelations. Often times, you cannot trust what is said in the halls of White’s and Brook’s. There is rivalry, and there are rumors that spread.” He shrugged. “But it appears you have a direct source to confirm the rumors. Unfortunately.”

  “I was envious of her, not long ago.” She said the words quietly, directed to the front instead of at him. Shame washed over her for having been jealous of her friend.

  “Envious?” The surprise in his voice was unmistakable. She looked at him and shrugged. “When I found I was to be wed. I expected it all of my life. Still, knowing it would happen made me feel resentful of not having a choice in the matter. While Betsy is poor, I thought she had at least the choice to do as she pleased.” She shook her head. “And now she is going to be so far away, in Bedfordshire. If something were to happen, what would she do? London is far, Shropshire farther still.”

  She sighed and shook her head. As much as she liked the idea of being at the vineyard, and of being alone with Christopher, it scared her that they would be even farther from Betsy, should something happen. “I must tell her what I have learned, but I fear it will only upset her.”

  Christopher sat beside her, still holding her hand. He’d begun to gently rub his hand over the back of hers.

  “Perhaps it is best to let her know you have heard rumors. Should Lord Portsmouth indeed make uninvited advances toward her.”

  Rowena sighed. “If only there was a way to watch over her, to have her be near someone she could turn to. Some ally. Alas, the only people I know who are familiar with the Portsmouths are Margaret, who is pregnant and wields no influence whatsoever, and the Duke.”

  She glanced up at Christopher and caught the way his eyes briefly widened at the mention of his rival’s name.

  “Thornmouth?” he spat the name out like an over salted spoonful of soup. Rowena nodded.

  “They are friends. We spoke of Betsy earlier, before I knew the true extend of Portsmouth’s character. He told me his friend has had four governesses in recent year. He assured me Betsy would be under his protection although he sounded amused more than concerned. And of course, he is nowhere near the Portsmouth’s Bedfordshire home either.”

  Beside her, he let go of her hand and rubbed his temples. After a long moment, he looked at her, resignation written all over his face.

  “I have a solution. One I do not like but one that is certain to put your mind at ease.”

  She twisted toward him so they were face to face.

  “You do? Faith, Chri–” she stopped herself. While he’d come to think of him by his Christian name, she’d not called him by it thus far. “Your Grace, that would be wonderful.”

  “I am not certain that it is quite as wonderful as you think.” He sighed again, shaking his head as if he could not believe what he was about to say.

  “As you know, the Duke of Thornmouth is on the Special Commission for the Cambridgeshire trials. Given that Lord Portsmouth is from Bedfordshire, he has a vested interest in the outcome of the trial. Perhaps it could be arranged to have him be placed on the council as well.”

  Rowena thought about this for a moment. She’d heard all about the riots. The country appeared utterly divided as to what to do with them, and she’d heard about the fierce argument between the two Dukes at the House of Lords.

  Beyond feeling pride at Christopher’s insistence to stand up and be heard, she’d not concerned herself with the matter more. But now, it all seemed to make sense.

  “Since Lord Portsmouth and the Duke of Thornmouth are friends, I would imagine it would be no bother for the Duke to have his friend appointed. It would mean an extended stay at Cambridgeshire for Lord Portsmouth. Certainly, he would not bring his family there for the trials.”

  Or would he? Even if he does, at least Betsy will be nearer to the Duke of Thornmouth, who might provide her with the protection he’d assured her of.

  Rowena scratched the side of her head where her hair was beginning to stick to her skin with sweat. Once Rowena’s family returned home and the London Season was over, they would be close enough for Betsy to return home, should the need arise.

  “It is splendid idea, Your Grace. I hate to ask Lord Thornmouth for anything at all for I do not wish to be in his debt, but I must, for the sake of Betsy.”

  She glanced at Christopher. She could hardly believe that he would have suggested such a thing at all. He despised Thornmouth, she knew it by the mere way in which he looked at him. And yet, he’d all but encouraged her to turn to him for help.

  She found herself surprised that this, his willingness to lose out on being the hero in order to save Betsy, made her feel even closer to him. She placed her free hand onto the inside of his forearm, feeling the strength of his arm and the smoothness of his skin.

  “You are a good man, Your Grace. A true, good man and I am ever so fortunate to have met you. Even if we can never be more than what we are right now, I will count myself fortunate to have known you, to have been near you.”

  He removed his hand from hers and
cupped her face.

  “We will be more than what we are now. We will be together every day until the end of our lives if it is what you wish. I will make it so, I declare. You will be my wife, the Countess of Westmond, not the Countess of Thornmouth. You will see. All you need to do is tell me that this is what you want, what you desire.”

  “It is,” she whispered the words more so than spoke them out loud, hesitant still to let the true strength of her feelings be revealed. “It is what I want. I cannot explain how I feel for I have never experienced anything like it, but I know that when I am with you, I am alive. With him–” she shook her head as much as she could.

  “Say no more, Rowena. You will be my wife. We will be together. I will find a way. Trust me.”