Cinderella and the Duke

by Janice Preston

  ‘But I want to know—’

  ‘Livvy. You will do as I say. And take Susie with you. Miss Allen and I have matters to discuss.’

  ‘Come along, girls,’ Cecily said. She threw a swift smile at Rosalind, gathered the younger element and walked on.

  ‘Well—’ Lascelles looked from Leo to Rosalind, and back again, with a smirk ‘—it would appear my cousin has behaved true to form and not consulted you in any of this, Miss Allen.’

  ‘No, he did not.’

  The implications of the last few minutes were still sinking in. Her whole family. He had taken them over. Freddie, Nell and Jack. Panic swirled inside. What was she to do?

  I still have Susie. He has not taken Susie from me. He said it would be my decision.

  Except...she had seen him in action now...if he did not want her to raise Susie, would she really be able to withstand him? Anger and confusion churned Rosalind’s stomach, nausea threatening to overwhelm her.

  What should I do? What can I say?

  ‘Vern?’

  Rosalind caught the flick of Leo’s head in Lascelles’s direction. He was doing it again. Manoeuvring everyone to suit his purposes.

  ‘I should prefer Mr Lascelles to remain.’ She challenged Leo with her stare.

  Every plane in his face hardened and then, with a flick of his brows, he granted permission. A solid weight of anger lodged in Rosalind’s chest. She did not need his permission.

  ‘It would appear, my dear Coz, that Miss Allen has experienced sufficient of your individual attention for one day.’ Lascelles sauntered across to stand by Rosalind’s side.

  Leo’s attention remained solely on Rosalind and she was, contrarily, comforted by Lascelles’s presence. Vernon remained several feet distant, watching them with every evidence of enjoyment.

  ‘Why did you not tell me?’ She would not wait for him to dictate the conversation. He was just a man. She must not be intimidated by his title or his power. ‘You have done this—’ she waved an agitated arm ‘—behind my back. Why? First you lure Freddie away and now you have taken control of Nell and Jack.’

  Just saying the words brought that roil of panic back into her insides. My entire family!

  ‘Have you already decided to take Susie, too? Do you imagine by taking my family I shall have no choice but to accept—’

  She stopped with a gasp. Lascelles stirred next to her.

  ‘No choice but to...?’ he murmured. ‘Oh, do tell, Coz. Have you fallen that hard for the Delectable Dorcas?’

  ‘That is none of your concern, Lascelles,’ Leo growled, the intent in his silver gaze—still riveted to Rosalind’s face—sending thrills of nervousness, coupled with anticipation, up and down her spine.

  ‘There was neither need nor time to consult anyone,’ he said. ‘My man Medland dealt with the matter and—’

  ‘You could have warned me what you were planning.’

  ‘And if I had?’

  ‘Then I would have—’

  She bit her tongue. What would she have done? Begged him to leave Nell and Jack under Tadlow’s control? Was Leo not the better bet as their guardian? Frustration seized her. There was nothing she could have done, had she had the time and opportunity to think it through. As a female, she could not be appointed guardian and Tadlow was Nell and Jack’s only male relative.

  ‘Quite.’

  The fact that Leo was right only incensed her further. She thrust her nose in the air and averted her gaze.

  ‘Mr Lascelles, would you kindly escort me to my sister? I wish to go home.’

  ‘With pleasure, ma’am.’ He crooked his elbow.

  ‘Rosalind...’ There was dire warning in the way Leo enunciated her name.

  ‘Your Grace?’ She placed her hand upon Lascelles’s arm.

  ‘We have yet to finish our discussion about Susie and her future.’

  Without volition, Rosalind’s fingers clutched at Lascelles’s sleeve. Gone was the slightest vestige of intimacy or warmth in Leo’s expression or his voice. Had she lost his good opinion entirely? Indecision rendered her speechless.

  ‘You wish to leave this uncertainty hovering over you?’ Leo bit the words out into the silence.

  No, she wanted to cry. The thought of not knowing was dreadful indeed, but she could not cope with any more. Not now. Her nerves were shred to ribbons and confusion fogged her brain. Before she could even begin to reply, though, Leo spoke again.

  ‘I shall call upon you at two tomorrow. We shall take Susie to visit Westfield. Once you have seen the place, we shall decide what is best to be done...for all concerned.’

  Chill fingers clutched at her heart. He was every inch the intimidating Duke: remote and severe. Leo was nowhere to be seen. He did not wait for her reply, but spun on his heel and strode away. Vernon, with a lift of his brows and a nod of his head, followed.

  Rosalind silently castigated herself as they left. Her obstinacy over the guardianship bordered on the irrational—she was aware of it and yet—as with her aunts—she had not been able to bring herself to back down.

  ‘My cousin has ever been thus,’ Lascelles said, patting her hand. ‘He listens to no opinion but his own and he has the power to ensure his will is always served. I pity you, my dear lady, for he will not relinquish control of your family now he has them where he wants them.’

  And now she was left with Lascelles—the very last man she wished to associate with—and she had no one to blame but herself and her own stubbornness.

  ‘I have no need of pity, sir.’

  ‘But what is to become of you, my dear, with all your family now under his control? And there is that poor, sweet, innocent girl, to be tarnished by the circumstances of her birth for ever. My cousin will for certain decide to send her away.’

  ‘I will not allow it.’ Why would Lascelles not be silent? She needed to think.

  ‘I very much fear, once my cousin decides upon a course of action, he is not easily swayed. Why, even I find it impossible to stand against him and I am not only a man but two years his senior. What hope have you of withstanding his decree?’

  ‘I will take whatever steps I must to prevent Susie being sent to that place,’ Rosalind vowed. ‘The Duke will not get his own way this time.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘A gentleman caller for you, Miss Allen. A Mr Lascelles.’

  Rosalind set aside her novel with a sigh and glanced at the over-mantel clock. One o’clock. She’d barely taken in a single sentence in the past hour, her mind constantly wandering to her impending appointment with Leo and the likely outcome of their visit to Westfield. That was more than enough of an ordeal for one day. The last thing she felt like coping with was Anthony Lascelles and his faux sympathy.

  ‘Did you show him into the salon?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Keating, as usual, peered down his nose at her.

  Rosalind rose. She could not receive Lascelles on her own, but Helena was upstairs reading to Lady Glenlochrie and Penny was occupied with Susie. She had no wish to encourage any sort of acquaintance between the little girl and Lascelles.

  ‘Send one of the maids to sit with us, will you, please?’

  Keating trod ahead of Rosalind to the door of the salon and opened it for her, before disappearing towards the servants’ stairs.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Lascelles.’ Rosalind halted just a few steps inside the open door. If she did not sit, then Lascelles could not and, hopefully, he would take the hint and leave all the sooner.

  ‘My dear Miss Allen.’ He crossed the room with hasty strides and, before she realised his intention, he clasped her hands. ‘Or may I have your permission to call you Rosalind?’

  Rosalind tugged her hands free. He stood so close to her, she now had no choice but to venture further
into the room. She walked to the fireplace, then faced him. He had closed the door. Her hands clenched by her sides and she prayed the maid would come quickly. At least Lascelles had remained by the door and not followed her.

  ‘I fear that might be unwise, sir. It might prove all too easy to forget oneself in company.’

  His face darkened. ‘I note my cousin uses your name with impunity.’ He strolled towards her.

  ‘And that proves my point.’ Rosalind wandered over to stand behind an armchair, resting her hands on the back. It provided a convenient barrier between herself and her visitor and gave her the comfort of something solid to hold on to. ‘Your cousin, as you yourself have warned me, follows his own agenda. He has not asked permission to call me by my name and I have granted no such licence.’

  ‘I have not come here to discuss my cousin.’

  ‘Indeed? It was you, sir, who brought his name into this conversation. I certainly have no wish to discuss him.’

  Lascelles barked a laugh. ‘I stand corrected.’

  He approached another few paces and Rosalind’s heart picked up pace, thrumming in her chest.

  Where is that maid?

  ‘I have come to offer a solution to your dilemma over Susie, Miss Allen.’

  He smiled, a smug smile, brimming with confidence. Rosalind’s temples throbbed a warning.

  ‘Pray, continue, sir. As you are aware, your cousin is due to collect Susie and me very soon.’

  ‘Where is the little angel?’

  Angel indeed. Rosalind concealed her exasperation. Did the man truly believe she would fall for such mendacious nonsense?

  ‘She is with Penny.’

  Penny had taken Susie upstairs to try and distract her from their visit to Westfield. The poor child was convinced she was to be sent away and Rosalind—fearing exactly the same—had found it impossible to properly reassure her. Susie’s fears gave Rosalind even more determination to withstand any attempt to send her to the orphan asylum. She hoped when Leo saw Susie’s dread of leaving Rosalind, he would agree she might remain, although she still agonised over whether her own reckless behaviour yesterday had already persuaded him she was unsuitable to raise the child.

  ‘That is a shame,’ Lascelles said. ‘I had hoped to become better acquainted with her.’

  ‘She is preparing for our visit to Westfield with the Duke. Now, sir...you spoke of a solution?’

  ‘Marry me, Rosalind.’

  Those three words stole the air from her lungs. She stared at him, open-mouthed. Marry him? Marry Lascelles?

  ‘It is the perfect solution, my dear. Think about it. You and I will deal very well together. I enjoy a woman with spirit and you will have the security and position of my name. Think of the advantages to our union,’ he urged. ‘I am a wealthy man and I am generous to those who please me. And we can provide a home for Susie. Who else, after all, could have a better understanding of what the poor child will have to endure? Not my cousin, that is for certain. He is set on shutting her away in that orphan asylum and she will face a future of servitude.’

  ‘Marry you?’

  Suddenly, he was by her side. She hadn’t even noticed him move. She shrank from him, but he took her by the shoulders, holding her fast.

  ‘You do me a great honour, sir, but...’ Her words faltered as his black eyes blazed. She hauled in a deep breath. ‘But I must refuse.’

  His fingers dug into her flesh and, before she realised his intent, his lips were on hers. She clamped her jaw tight, resisting his questing tongue. He lifted his head.

  ‘Open for me, dear heart. I will show you pleasure you have never dreamed of.’

  Did he not hear me refuse? Fear squirmed in her belly and she struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. He backed her against the chair that only a few moments ago had given her the illusion of safety.

  ‘Release me, sir! What if someone comes?’

  He laughed. ‘No one will come. I slipped the butler a guinea to ensure we are not disturbed—he is well aware there are some occasions when a man requires privacy. When you know me better, dear heart, you will find it is not only my cousin who can arrange matters to suit his purpose.’

  One arm encircled her shoulders and he clamped her jaw with his free hand, squeezing.

  ‘Come, my love.’ His breath was hot on her cheek, his cologne choking her lungs. ‘Enough of this maidenly protestation. You chose me over my stuffy cousin yesterday. I can provide for you and the child—you will want for nothing.’

  Her flailing hands beat uselessly at his arms. She opened her mouth to scream and he kissed her again, this time invading her mouth with his tongue. He pressed the full length of his body into hers, flexing his hips so she could not mistake the hard ridge of his arousal. She gagged and her knees started to buckle. He tore his lips from hers and placed them close to her ear.

  ‘I told you once before that you would not deny me, Rosalind. It is up to you whether you accept me now or whether you make me work a little harder to...persuade...you.’

  The insinuation in that one word chilled her very bones.

  ‘Either way, now my mind is set I shall not give up.’ He laughed, stepped back and bowed. ‘My cousin and I are also alike in that respect.’

  Dazed, Rosalind rubbed at her swollen lips, tasting blood in her mouth. She stumbled as she tried to put more distance between them and he was at her side in an instant, cupping her elbow, steering her solicitously to the sofa to sit down.

  ‘I shall leave you to consider my offer, Miss Allen...and the alternative. I anticipate your grateful acceptance by the end of the day.’

  He bowed again and left.

  Rosalind stared blankly into space. The man was mad. How on earth did he imagine that little display of charm would persuade her to have anything at all to do with him, let alone marry him? She shuddered. She must ensure she was never alone with Lascelles ever again. Her heart rate gradually steadied to normal and she stood up on still-trembling legs. She must go to her bedchamber and tidy herself ready for the visit to Westfield.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bedchamber, having changed her gown, donned her pelisse and re-pinned her hair. She met Penny on the landing.

  ‘Is Susie ready?’ she asked. ‘The Duke will be here to collect us shortly.’

  ‘She went downstairs a little while ago, ma’am. To look for you. Poor lamb could not settle, so I changed her dress and sent her down to wait with you.’

  ‘I have not seen her.’

  They descended the stairs together, but Susie was nowhere to be found in the rooms on the first floor. Rosalind sent Penny back upstairs to search and continued down to the ground floor. Again, there was no sign of Susie, nor of anyone else. The door leading to the basement stairs was ajar and, as she approached it, Keating strolled out.

  ‘I am looking for Susie, Keating. Is she downstairs?’

  ‘No, miss.’

  ‘How long has the hall been empty?’

  ‘A mere matter of moments, miss,’ he replied stiffly.

  Rosalind hurried up the stairs and met Penny once again on the landing.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘She’s not in any of the bedchambers. I even went in to Lady Glenlochrie, but neither she nor Lady Helena have seen her.’

  ‘But where can she be, Penny?’

  ‘Oh, madam, do you think she has run away?’

  ‘But why would she run away?’

  ‘She hated the idea of being sent to that school. She ran away from her other home, after all.’

  Voices floated up the stairs from the hall below. Penny peered over the balustrade.

  ‘’Tis the Duke! Oh, what will he say when he finds out we’ve lost Susie?’

  Rosalind clutched Penny’s sle
eve. ‘We must not tell him, Penny. It will only convince him I am not capable of caring for her.’

  ‘But he is expecting Susie to visit the school with you.’

  ‘I know.’ Rosalind thought fast. ‘You keep looking. I shall tell the Duke that Susie is unwell.’

  * * *

  Leo climbed the stairs behind the butler. There was the sound of a scuffle overhead and as his head came level with the floor he saw Rosalind, dressed in an amber pelisse, clutching at Penny’s arm and whispering urgently into her ear.

  Suspicions aroused, he continued up the stairs. Penny disappeared up the stairs to the next floor.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Allen. I am pleased to see you are ready to leave.’

  He searched for words of conciliation, but they would not come. He still smouldered over her rejection of every damned thing he had done to try to help her and her family. Every time he thought she was beginning to see things his way, something else came along and blew their tentative accord into the sky. He could no longer dismiss the suspicion that it was him she was rejecting, not merely his help. The image of her choosing Lascelles—Lascelles of all people—over him had plagued him all night and only the consumption of half a bottle of brandy had finally allowed him to sleep.

  ‘Where is Susie?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Grace. I am afraid Susie is not well. Our visit will have to be postponed.’

  She would not meet his eyes. Her gaze darted hither and thither, settling nowhere for longer than a second.

  ‘What is wrong with her? Shall I send for a physician?’

  ‘No! That is unnecessary.’

  Rosalind was more flustered than he had ever seen her. She had grabbed hold of the balustrade with her right hand and her knuckles shone white.

  ‘She needs to rest, that is all.’ She met his gaze now, her golden-brown eyes accusing. ‘She has worried herself into a fever of apprehension over this visit to Westfield.’

  ‘So...it is my fault?’

  Rosalind’s gaze slipped from his. ‘Yes.’