Perhaps one day, what? The letter remained unfinished, with no ending. God help him, he missed his brother. He wished Michael were here to guide him and show him how to unravel this mess. But he’d promised to take care of Ashton and their sisters, no matter what it cost.
He’d made up his mind not to let Niall’s revelation bother him. He had never known a father, and regardless of who had sired him, outwardly, nothing had changed. He couldn’t do anything about the circumstances of his birth, and unless his mother renounced him, his responsibilities were the same.
But it felt as if he had stepped into his brother’s shadow, living a life that wasn’t his. This room . . . the servants . . .
What right did he have to live in this way when so many were suffering? And why would any woman want to marry him, knowing how terrible it was at Ashton?
No. He could not reveal any of it to the London heiresses. He would have to live a lie of omission and pretend to be someone else, in order to save his tenants.
The image of Lady Rose came to mind, and he rather wished he could see her now, even if only for a conversation and a cup of tea. Although she refused to consider him as anything more than a friend, never would he forget the forbidden softness of her kiss. Or the way she’d smiled at him when she’d taken her first steps.
With her, he could be the man he was—not the man he was trying to be.
But he had to set aside his own desires and think of her needs. He could never destroy her life by asking her to wed a man like him. Lady Rose deserved a life of happiness after all she’d endured—not a life in Ireland.
He folded his brother’s letter and set it aside. There was no choice but to do what was necessary and wed a woman who was as desperate as he was.
Chapter Twelve
It took only three days for Rose to slowly begin losing her mind. Her grandmother was under the mistaken belief that three hours of rest were required each afternoon. Or perhaps she thought Rose should spend her time staring at the wall.
Each day Lord Ashton proved that he had not forgotten her. He sent her unusual flowers along with amusing notes. He avoided roses or lilies, but instead sent iris blooms. In one of her replies, she had pleaded, Help me escape the horror of this prison.
Today, he had promised to take her out driving in his carriage. Thank heavens.
She told herself that it was the perfect opportunity to strategize about the Duchess of Worthingstone’s ball tomorrow evening. In spite of her initial misgivings, she had decided to introduce Iain to her dear friend, Evangeline Sinclair—with a dire warning that he was not to frighten her. Timid and tenderhearted, Evangeline was the sort of friend who reminded Rose of clumsy puppies and pink ribbons. She was quite a bluestocking and adored her books. Were it not for her shyness, she would be surrounded by suitors. She needed a kind man, and it was possible that Iain might do well enough.
Yet, the idea of Evangeline kissing Lord Ashton brought a twinge of uneasiness to her gut . . . almost like jealousy. But then, Rose had no claim upon him. She needed to sort out matters between herself and Lord Burkham. It wasn’t her business what happened between Iain and other ladies. She would arrange introductions, and the rest was up to him.
A knock sounded at her door, and Hattie informed her, “Lord Ashton has come to call. Are you receiving?”
“Yes, I will see him.” Rose waited in her chair for Calvert to come and carry her downstairs, wishing all the while that she had the strength to go down on her own. But she wasn’t at all confident about her abilities.
Within a few minutes, the footman brought her down into the drawing room. When she saw Iain, she smiled with relief. “I feel like a princess being rescued from her lonely tower,” she admitted. “I hardly care if we do anything more than drive in circles. As long as I can leave this house.”
“I am at your service, Lady Rose.” He returned her smile with his own and then sent her a silent question, Do they know? With a raised eyebrow, he offered his arm.
Rose shook her head slightly. Although everyone would eventually find out about her newfound ability to walk, she wanted to keep the secret a little while longer.
“Calvert, please bring me outside to Lord Ashton’s carriage. Hattie will accompany me.”
The footman scowled but followed the earl down the hallway and out to the waiting vehicle. The light curricle was painted black and appeared fit for swift driving with a pair of matched horses. “Is this yours?” she asked, as Calvert lifted her onto the seat.
“It was my brother’s.” Iain climbed up beside her while Hattie took her place upon the rumble seat as a chaperone. “I am glad that the horses were well cared for, during all this time. In fact, I rather feared that there would be no transportation at all, leaving me to walk through the streets.”
In the narrow seat, his body was pressed close to hers. It was a deliberate move, she knew, but one that was not unwelcome. He drove the horses slowly within Kensington Gardens so that she could enjoy the sunshine and the flowers in bloom. But as the minutes passed, she had another urge. “Lord Ashton, if you do not mind, I wish to drive faster.”
He sent her a knowing look. “Because you’ve been feeling like a captive these past few days?”
“Indeed.”
He guided the horse away from the gardens, adding, “We’ll have to find a larger space.” He drove the horses toward the Serpentine, and once they had a clear pathway, he let the horses run. The reckless speed was exhilarating, and Rose was grateful for the feeling of the wind in her hair. The light curricle took the corners easily, and she laughed aloud as the carriage turned along the opposite bank.
“This is wonderful,” she breathed. “Like flying.”
Lord Ashton continued the speed until the horses appeared to tire. He slowed his pace and inquired, “Was that what you were wanting, Lady Rose?”
“Exactly. I’ve been going out of my head with boredom. Poor Lily has been subjected to paying countless calls, while I’ve been left at home.”
“And has the viscount come to pay a call on you?” Iain asked.
His question dimmed her mood. “No.” But she hoped that Lord Burkham would come at least once. She had sent him a letter, but so far had received no acknowledgment.
“You’re disappointed.”
“Of course I am. We were nearly engaged, and now he behaves as if I’m invisible.”
Iain took the horses down another pathway. “Then show him you’re not.” He sent her a sidelong glance. “I presume your grandmother has arranged for you to wear a stunning ball gown, along with jewels?”
“Lily has a gown, but my grandmother wishes for me to wear something demure and unnoticeable. Something white or yellow, perhaps.” She rolled her eyes and added, “They want me to remain trapped within the wallflower garden.”
It seemed an opportune time to mention Evangeline, but before she could speak of her friend, Iain shook his head. “They shouldn’t treat you that way.”
“It’s not your place to interfere,” she reminded him. “And I can manage my grandmother.” She lifted her chin, adding, “Lord Burkham is expected to be in attendance at the duchess’s ball, and I shall confront him then.”
He glanced back at Hattie. Dropping his voice low so the maid would not overhear them, he said, “You need to practice walking.”
“I know. But Hattie doesn’t know. No one does, except you.”
At that, his expression shifted. There was a sudden warmth in his eyes that reached out and drew them closer. “I am glad of it, a chara.”
She grew wary of the closeness between them and the secret they shared. Her mind warned that she was letting down her guard around him, falling into the easy banter of his friendship. But beneath his teasing demeanor, Iain Donovan was very different from Lord Burkham and the other men. Although rough around the edges, he was a man whom she could truly call a friend. If she needed his help, he would not hesitate to give it.
“I have selected a few women who might be
suitable as your bride. Miss Sinclair, for instance, is a lovely young woman who will be at the ball tomorrow evening. She is rather shy, however.”
Iain gave a slight nod, but seemed somewhat distracted. He pulled the curricle to a stop beside a small pathway. They were secluded for a moment, and he turned back to the maid. “Hattie, I am going to carry Lady Rose over to sit at the bench over there. Kindly wait here until I return with her.”
The maid agreed to wait, and when he reached out to gather Rose into his arms, Iain leaned in to whisper in her ear, “This will give you the chance to walk for a few moments without anyone seeing you.”
Thank goodness. It had been a long time since she’d walked in the garden with him, and she needed to practice. The last thing she wanted was to stumble or fall when she attended a public gathering.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as he brought her to sit on the bench. She waited until she was certain they were alone and slowly stood up. Iain offered her his arm, and she took it.
“At the ball, I can help you walk across the room, if you wish it.”
“Not unless I lose my balance,” she corrected. “Else it will look as if we are courting.” As she walked at his side, her legs felt stiff and ungainly. Her left leg still had a heavy limp, and she started to laugh. “I look as if my leg is dragging a heavy chain behind it.”
“But you are walking,” he pointed out.
He was right. Her heart clenched with a blend of thankfulness and overwhelming emotion. She had to fight back the tears of relief.
“What is it?” Iain prompted.
She blinked back the rush of feelings and calmed herself. “It suddenly struck me all at once, what I’ve overcome to be here. I can’t quite believe it.”
He softened, and his green eyes met hers with warmth. “You have, a chara. And in spite of your illness, you have done what you set out to do.” He reached out and touched her cheek, and she covered his hand with her own.
“I have, haven’t I?” With a smile of joy, she took his arm.
“Is it easier if you slow your pace?” he asked.
She concentrated as she walked and found that moving slowly did, in fact, make it easier to disguise the limp. “A little.” It was also a consolation that she would have a long ball gown to disguise her movements.
She leaned heavily against his arm as they walked, and after a few moments of strolling, she began to regain her confidence. He responded to her pace, and when she slowed to a stop, he did the same. “Do you need time to rest?”
She shook her head. Just ahead, through the clearing, she could see the banks of the Serpentine. Though she longed to walk along the edge of the water, she didn’t want to be seen by other members of the ton. Not yet.
As they began walking back toward the bench, she urged, “Will you take me out walking each day, so that I may continue to get stronger?”
“If that’s what you’re wanting, aye.” There was an unusual edge to his voice, almost protective in nature. His attention was focused elsewhere, and when she turned her head, her heart nearly stopped.
There, at the edge of the path, stood Thomas Kingford, the Viscount Burkham. The man she’d once dreamed of marrying. He was here with a young lady, and behind them strolled two matrons as chaperones.
The blood seemed to drain away from her face, and a numbness settled over her. Rose felt lightheaded, and Iain tightened his grip on her arm. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Even her voice sounded faraway, as if she were speaking through a tunnel.
“Look at me, Rose.” He locked his gaze with hers. “What are you wanting to do? Shall we stay here, or do you wish to speak with him?”
“I—I don’t know.” She had to gather her senses. For all she knew, Lord Burkham might not have noticed her. But then again, the four of them were continuing on their walk, while the young lady talked animatedly.
“If it’s your wish to speak with him, I will stop. Or we can avoid them if you want to maintain your secret longer.”
She took a deep breath, gathering strength from his presence. “Lord Burkham has avoided me for half a year. I think it’s time we spoke again.”
Though her words were spoken with courage, Iain knew how much it cost her. Lady Rose had likely wanted to make a grand reveal of her ability to walk. Instead, that dream had been taken away.
It was clear, from the way the young debutante was holding on to Lord Burkham’s arm and giggling, that she was delighted to be walking with him. The knowing looks from the matrons behind them spoke of their ambitions for marriage.
Rose was trying to maintain a brave face, but beneath her serene expression he could see the underlying pain. She squared her shoulders and began to walk toward them. Iain held her gloved hand within his arm, hoping she would take comfort from that. As far as he was concerned, the jackanapes could take the silly girl and leave Rose alone. If Burkham didn’t see the value in the woman he’d left behind, then he deserved an empty-headed miss.
The viscount had taken little notice of Rose, but abruptly, his companion’s giggling stopped. The young miss had caught sight of her and leaned in to whisper.
At that, Lord Burkham turned, and stopped walking immediately. A sudden rise of joy came over his face, and he sent Rose a blinding smile. “Lady Rose,” he breathed. He appeared to forget entirely about his companion and left the young woman standing there. Iain’s hand tightened upon Rose, and he wanted to knock the smile off the man’s face.
You left her, he wanted to remind Burkham. What kind of man would abandon a woman he was courting when she became ill?
But if he escorted Rose back to the curricle, she would be angry with him. She needed to face Burkham and see him for what he was.
When the viscount reached her side, his gaze swept over her, and Rose straightened. “You are a wonder, Lady Rose. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you walking again.”
The composure upon Rose’s face faltered, and she glanced back at Iain with uncertainty. He squeezed her hand lightly in a show of support. Yet, he’d never expected the strong surge of jealousy that rose up within him like a fist to his gut. He had no right to feel possessive of Rose . . . but when he saw the viscount, he couldn’t control the response.
There was no denying the look of utter happiness in the man’s eyes. Burkham genuinely appeared pleased for Rose’s sake.
“I am without words,” Burkham said simply. “How miraculous this is.”
Iain couldn’t hold silent any longer. “It is, indeed. I am certain you are well aware of how hard she has worked to recover from her illness. You must have been quite eager to pay a call upon her to see for yourself.”
He thought he did rather well holding the sarcasm back from his voice. To his credit, Lord Burkham did appear slightly embarrassed.
Rose squeezed Iain’s arm and sent him a warning look. He only smiled.
She extricated her hand from his and introduced them. “Lord Burkham, may I present a friend of the family, Iain Donovan, the Earl of Ashton.”
Burkham nodded in greeting. “It is good to see you again, Ashton. I seem to recall speaking with you at length, last season.”
Iain only sent the man an amused look. Whether it was a lie spoken to give the illusion that they’d met before or whether Burkham genuinely thought they had met, he didn’t know. But before he could respond, Rose interjected, “No, Lord Ashton has never been to London. You must be thinking of his older brother, Michael Donovan.”
The viscount’s smile dimmed. “Forgive me for the mistake. If you are now the earl, then I must offer my condolences.”
Iain could only nod and shake the man’s hand. “Thank you.” It occurred to him that there was no way of knowing what connections Michael had made in London. His brother might have friends here, and that might prove useful.
Burkham turned to his companion, likely with the intent of introducing the young lady, but one of the matrons approached first. The older woman eyed Iain from head to
toe before she introduced the girl as Miss Everett. Iain bowed and spoke the necessary courtesies, but he didn’t miss the stiff expression on Rose’s face when she met the debutante.
“Will you be attending the Duchess of Worthingstone’s ball tomorrow evening?” Lord Burkham asked Rose.
She is, and if you dare to break her heart again, I’ll be breaking every bone in your body. Iain took every effort to keep from revealing his annoyance.
Lady Rose only nodded. “I am. But please, Lord Burkham and Miss Everett—” She sent a pleading look toward the chaperones as well. “My family does not know that I’ve begun walking again. It was my intention to surprise them at the ball.”
“Then may I ask that you save your first dance for me?” the viscount asked with a warm smile. “For old times’ sake?”
When I’m cold in the grave, Iain thought.
But Rose blushed and answered, “Of course.”
Miss Everett’s cheeks reddened, for the viscount was now behaving as if she were invisible. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen, Iain decided. And her chances of wedding the viscount were disappearing before her eyes. He felt rather sorry for her.
“Until tomorrow,” the viscount said, and he bowed to Rose before escorting Miss Everett back to the pathway.
Rose kept a smile fixed upon her face until they’d gone, and afterwards, she groaned. “I cannot believe I was so foolish.”
Iain didn’t know how to respond to that. “What do you mean? You had your moment of triumph.”
“Not in the way I imagined it.” She watched Lord Burkham as he departed with Miss Everett and their chaperones. “I doubt if he will keep my secret. And furthermore, those women will go and spread gossip that we were seen walking together unchaperoned. Especially Mrs. Everett.”
“We weren’t precisely unchaperoned. Hattie is only standing over there.”
“No, but she will make it sound as if you were kissing me within the bushes, ready to defile me. Mrs. Everett is a notorious gossip, and she made Lily’s life miserable last Season. She wants her daughter to marry a titled lord, and she will denigrate anyone who stands in her way.”
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