Falling for His Duchess

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Falling for His Duchess Page 9

by Donna Cummings


  "Miss Hewitt," Mr. Moulton pleaded fervently, his hands clasped to his breast, "can you ever forgive me for my unfortunate tardiness? I pray this will not harden your heart against me, and that we can resume our—"

  "Mr. Moulton!" Rosalinde realized she must do something before the overly loud Mr. Moulton divulged the secret she wished none of her neighbors to discover. She stepped closer to him and slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Mr. Moulton," she said more graciously. "This is a discussion of a most delicate nature. Perhaps we could retire to discuss this more discreetly."

  Fortunately for Rosalinde's peace of mind, he was not slow to gather her meaning. He grinned broadly, even going so far as to wink at Julian. "My gratitude, good man, for taking care of Miss Hewitt while I was unavoidably detained."

  Julian smiled and executed a magnificent bow. "I was more than happy to do so."

  Mr. Moulton beamed. "Come, Miss Hewitt, we must discuss our future."

  .***

  Julian did his best not to gnash his teeth as they departed. Surely there was no chance she would consider Mr. Moulton's suit. Not now. He nearly growled at the thought. Fortunately he refrained, for Reverend Hewitt and Dr. Bentley arrived, stopping in front of him.

  "Mr. Selby." Dr. Bentley raised a glass in his direction. "I was about to warn you away from the fish patties, but from the expression on your face, I see I am too late."

  Julian laughed. "No, I fear it is something else that is causing me anguish."

  Reverend Hewitt tore his gaze away from something, addressing Julian. "Was it that popinjay Mr. Moulton? Never fear. My daughter has a great deal more sense than to pay him any attention."

  Dr. Bentley snorted. "Do you remember when he described Rosalinde's hair as the very same color as the casing on one of his pocket watches?"

  "I made the mistake once of asking which timepiece was his favorite," Reverend Hewitt said. "He could not decide, so he described all twenty of his current favorites, in excruciating detail. It is uncharitable to admit, but I was praying fervently for a calamity that would require me to leave in haste. Though I do not know that he would have noticed if I had."

  "What about you, Mr. Selby?" Dr. Bentley asked. "Now that you have recovered from your injury, do you plan on leaving us soon?"

  "There is still a matter I hope to resolve before then." Julian turned to Rosalinde's father. "I wish to marry Rosalinde, and I hope you will give me your blessing."

  Reverend Hewitt beamed. "I could not be more pleased by this news!"

  Julian was about to divulge the rest of his secrets, but all of a sudden he saw Mr. Moulton—without Rosalinde. The man appeared a bit dazed, which was good news for Julian. His heart thudded. He had to find her, and ask her to be his bride. He could wait no longer.

  "Dr. Bentley, if you would be so kind. I believe you could enlighten Reverend Hewitt for me. I must see to a most important matter."

  "I will be happy to do so. Come, Micah, you may need another cup of punch before you hear this astounding news."

  ***

  Where had she gone?

  Julian halted, gazing at the crowd, nearly laughing at how he was once more chasing Rosalinde. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if necessary. He would just prefer it to be after she had agreed to be his bride.

  He glanced to his left, but there was a line of dancers, and Rosalinde was not among them. A quick look to his right made him want to fade into the crowd. He attempted it, but too late.

  "Mr. Selby!"

  To Julian's dismay, Mr. Moulton stood there, his entire mien a melancholy one. It would be churlish to escape the poor man now. But what was he to say? Your misfortune is my gain was a bit harsh, albeit utterly truthful.

  "Mr. Moulton. Are you enjoying the festivities this evening?"

  "Not at all." The man heaved a huge sigh. "I am afraid Miss Hewitt had a change of heart."

  "It was unfortunate you were late," Julian fibbed. "Once you gave her the opportunity to change her mind…" He shook his head in commiseration with Mr. Moulton's plight. However, he could not refrain from adding the words Rosalinde had forbidden him to utter at their first meeting. "Perhaps you are better off this way."

  Mr. Moulton looked up and astonished Julian by agreeing wholeheartedly. "Miss Hewitt seems to have changed unaccountably since our last meeting."

  Julian drew back, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

  "Yes, I find I am quite relieved," Mr. Moulton said with increased conviction. "I need a wife who is biddable, and who will not surprise me at every turn. I do not care to come home each evening and not know the woman I left that very morning. I need a helpmeet, someone I can depend upon to assist me with my business. Miss Hewitt has become entirely too impulsive."

  "Indeed?" Julian drew back further, intrigued by Mr. Moulton's distaste for Rosalinde's growing impetuosity. He himself utterly delighted in the notion of what his impulsive wife would surprise him with each day. He could think of nothing that would please him more.

  "You find her impulsive?" Julian repeated.

  "Oh, yes," Mr. Moulton answered fervently. "Just a moment ago, I saw her laughing in the most unseemly fashion with a coachman. She began to ask him the most shameful questions. I can scarce bear to repeat them."

  He shuddered, clearly waiting for Julian to press him for details.

  Julian raised his eyebrows a mere fraction. It was all that was needed.

  "She was asking him to teach her how to use doctored dice without being detected!"

  "I knew it!" Julian said, reluctant admiration in his voice.

  Mr. Moulton mistook it for sympathy to his cause. "I am only glad that she refused me. At one time, I thought we might suit admirably." He shook his head. "Naturally, as a man of honor, I was duty-bound to request her hand anew. But I am thankful that my prayers on that score were answered."

  Julian clapped the man on the shoulder. "I have become convinced that our prayers are answered in the most unexpected, and unusual, ways."

  ***

  Rosalinde was giddy as she glanced around the assembly rooms, looking for Julian. She had turned down, as gently as she could, Mr. Moulton's fervent plea to reconsider his suit. He had been at first astonished, and then petulant. Finally he had walked away, but not before glancing at his pocket watch, perhaps to memorialize the moment Rosalinde had let such a prime catch go.

  Where had Julian gone? She stood on tiptoe, but the crowd was too thick, and all she could see was a mass of people chattering gaily, or dancing with delighted abandon. She moved closer to the open door, relishing the cool air hitting her skin, though it had little effect on her decidedly heated thoughts about Julian.

  "I believe I saw him heading outdoors," a woman said behind her.

  Rosalinde spun around, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw the elegant stranger Julian had remarked upon earlier.

  "You are not the first who believes I resemble the scullery maid," the woman said with a knowing smile. "I have heard that comment several times this evening." She winked. "My father was a well-known rogue, who found himself in love with more than one woman in his lifetime, often at the same time. Perhaps he is to blame."

  Rosalinde bit back a laugh, enchanted by the woman's explanation, and her easy acceptance of a scandalous situation.

  "I have shocked you, haven't I?" The woman did not appear the least bit distressed, however. "But why am I chattering on when you are seeking your young man?"

  "How did you know?"

  The woman waved her hand airily. "Because you resemble every young woman who is intent on finding the man she loves."

  The realization staggered Rosalinde. She did love Julian, much as she had tried to resist it, but there was no reason to anymore. For the first time that she could remember, she felt hopeful about the future, a future even better than she had envisioned.

  Because it would be with Julian.

  Rosalinde placed a hand over her pounding heart. "Love is supposed to be patient, and kind
. Yet I must admit it causes quite the opposite responses. I have never felt so impetuous, or rash. Reckless even."

  "Yes! Love always provokes a host of wildly unpredictable emotions. But I assure you, there is not a more delightful way to spend your lifetime." The woman smiled again, lighting up her beautiful visage. "Especially once you have found your one true love."

  The woman reached towards Rosalinde, perhaps to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, but at that moment Rosalinde saw Julian, just outside the assembly rooms, on the terrace. Her excitement could not be contained.

  "I apologize, but I must—"

  "Of course," the woman murmured. "Just do not forget what I told you about love."

  Rosalinde barely heard the words, doing her best to walk slowly when what she wanted was to race into Julian's embrace. The thought of how startled he would be made her grin.

  "You appear like the cat that has swallowed the canary," Julian said, smiling as he approached.

  Her heart raced, and a fluttering sensation started in her stomach. "As do you."

  "With good reason. I have just consoled Mr. Moulton over his recent loss, while doing my best not to cheer extravagantly."

  "At his departure, you mean."

  "No." He laughed, and then moved closer, until he was standing a mere breath away. He clasped her face in both of his hands, and gave her the sweetest kiss. "Because now I can confess I have fallen in love with you, Rosalinde."

  He kissed her more fervently this time. She twined her arms around his neck, while his arms circled her waist, tugging her closer than she had ever been to a man. The fluttering sensations from a moment ago commenced in other places on her body, places that made her cheeks heat, with embarrassment, and excitement.

  "Julian," she whispered against his lips.

  "Rosalinde."

  He continued the kisses, on her lips, and her eyelids, across her cheekbones. She instinctively tilted her head and his kisses trailed down her neck. She shivered, and felt her breasts tighten in the most delicious fashion. She kept her arms tight around his neck, to prevent him from moving away, not wanting the delightful sensations to end.

  Spinsterhood could never hold any allure for her after this.

  A slight moan escaped Julian's lips. "Rosalinde, I apologize."

  "No, do not apologize." She kissed him once more.

  "I must, at least until I say what brought me out here."

  She dropped her arms, her eyes locked with his. Her heart pounded, fearfully, but it calmed when she saw the joyous expression on his face. He loved her! She was instantly swamped with giddiness.

  He smiled, and then, for the first time ever, he appeared slightly nervous.

  "Julian, what is it?"

  "Rosalinde, you have my heart, and always will. If you will agree to be my bride, I will be the happiest man ever born."

  "Marry you?" Rosalinde couldn't breathe for a moment. She had not expected this so soon, yet it was what she wanted. She shivered at how her life would change. But this time she was ready.

  He continued to gaze at her hopefully.

  "Yes," she said slowly. "Yes, I will marry you."

  He picked her up and whirled her around, both of them laughing, before he finally set her back down on the ground.

  His expression grew serious all of a sudden. "Rosalinde, there is something you must know about me…"

  Chapter 11

  "A duke? I enjoy your wit, Mr. Selby, but sometimes I cannot understand the lengths to which you go—"

  He laughed. "I am not Mr. Selby. I truly am the Duke of Enfield."

  She rolled her eyes. "Julian, I have already agreed to marry you. There is no need to inflate your status."

  "I cannot believe this." He shook his head with obvious disbelief. "This is not at all what I had anticipated."

  His reaction made her wonder how well she actually knew this man she had just agreed to marry. Perhaps it was time to learn more.

  "What about the woman you were to wed? The other Mrs. Selby?"

  "Rosalinde, Mrs. Selby is you, and always has been. Initially I'd thought to ease your concerns about returning to the inn. All while attempting to determine how to inform you I had fallen instantly in love, thanks to my family's curse—

  "Your brain fever…" she began. But his mention of the curse reminded her of their conversation during his convalescence, and a woman who had fallen instantly in love, a woman who was the sister of a duke.

  She gasped. Her beloved Julian was a duke.

  "Why did you not tell me before now?"

  He grasped both of her hands in his, his expression so earnest. "Because I have been pursued too many times by those who want the trappings of my title and wealth. I wanted someone to fall in love with me."

  Rosalinde slipped her hands out of his, realizing how cold she felt without his touch. The icy sensation was starting to spread throughout her entire body. She would likely be frozen in place soon.

  "I cannot marry you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because you are a duke! And I am a vicar's daughter."

  "Why should that matter?"

  "I thought you were Mr. Selby, yet now you are something grand. Much too grand."

  "My ducal status has always permitted me to get whatever I wanted. But now it is being used against me, preventing me from what I desire most."

  His expression of dismay nearly caused her to laugh aloud. Except her heart was feeling rather bleak right then. Laughter felt impossible. It would likely be impossible for the rest of her existence.

  "Julian, you would be marrying beneath your station—

  "I do not care about that!"

  "It would cause you future unhappiness, once you realize the folly of such an act."

  He nearly snorted. "I am cursed to spend the rest of my natural-born days alone if I cannot marry you. What could be more miserable than that?"

  His words gave her pause. Or perhaps she merely wanted to believe she was relieving him of a burdensome future. He must have seen her doubt, for in the next breath he said, "Rosalinde, perhaps we could enter into a different arrangement."

  She stiffened. "I would not have suspected you would ever suggest such a thing." She spun on her heel, her face flaming, ready to leave.

  "No! You misunderstand. I meant a marriage of convenience. Perhaps that would suit you better?"

  She turned slowly. His stricken expression meant he had not intended to wound her. And she had to admit his words were tempting.

  "What do you mean precisely?"

  "If we were to wed, I could take you with me to London. You would be able to see all the sights your heart desires. I can ensure you will experience everything you wish, with no expense spared. You would attend every event the ton offers. We would have events at our home as well, if you so wished."

  His words made her heart pound. He was offering her everything she had ever hoped for, yet never anticipated experiencing, and with Julian at her side.

  "But how does this benefit you?"

  He came closer, until they were nearly touching. He leaned forward and whispered, "I shall spend every waking moment with my beautiful bride, doing my best to convince her to stay my bride."

  She nearly shivered. "A marriage of convenience? Do you mean—"

  "I shall not insist on any marital duties." He grinned. "In truth, if they are viewed as 'duties', I will not have done my job properly."

  She blushed. She had had enough conversations with the church widows, especially when they were in their cups, to know when a man was merely performing a job and when he was intent on a more pleasurable result. How could she help but think about Julian and pleasure? It would be next to impossible to think of anything else, even if it were merely a marriage of convenience.

  Rosalinde opened her mouth, and then closed it. She had been tempted many times before, by this man, the one who held her heart in the palm of his hand. How long would it be before he cast it aside? How long before he discovered he should
have married someone of his own station, not a spirited vicar's daughter who had provided a fortnight's diversion for him?

  Being jilted at her elopement had been hard to bear. She did not think she could withstand it if it occurred after her wedding.

  "You do me a great honor with this proposal," she began.

  "Rosalinde, please." He reached for her hands, but she kept them close to her side.

  "Julian, I cannot marry you." She gave him a brief smile, hoping it would stay a bit longer before the tears began to fall. "And while we may regret it now, I wholeheartedly believe we will view it much differently in the near future."

  She raced away from him, before he could tempt her to change her mind, breaking both of their hearts forever.

  ***

  Julian stopped before entering the carriage, wanting to glance once more at the cottage that had been the site of his hopeful quest the past fortnight. In truth, he hoped for a glimpse of Rosalinde, yet she had made herself scarce soon after her rejection of him and his proposal the previous evening.

  She had not appeared for breakfast that morning, pleading a dreadful headache. Julian wondered if it was as feigned as his knee injury had been, but how could he blame her for such a ruse when he had employed it as well?

  He had expected to apologize and explain the reasons for his deception, but it had not been necessary. Rosalinde refused his suit, not for his lack of truthfulness, but for revealing who he truly was. He was indeed cursed since he had finally found a woman who could love him for himself, then was rejected by her because of the title and status others craved so much.

  Even worse, though, was knowing how much anguish he had caused Rosalinde. It had seemed for a moment she had entertained his suggestion of the marriage of convenience, yet even that proved to be more than she could accept.

  Julian sighed and clambered inside the coach, shutting the door with a great deal more force than was probably necessary. He rapped on the roof to signal Frederick to commence the trip he now dreaded. It was fruitless to hope that Rosalinde had had a sudden change of heart and would come flying out the door to stop his carriage, but he wished it nonetheless.

 

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