The truth was that Julian might have disguised his identity, but he was not capable of hiding his true nature.
Rosalinde's heart sank at how foolish she had been. A young woman jilted at her elopement could be forgiven for fearing she might be abandoned again. But it was well nigh unforgivable to misjudge Julian, and his future behavior, all because of the title he possessed.
"I must go to see Julian." She stood up quickly. "It may be too late, but I must tell him how much I love him, and apologize for how I have wronged him. I want to be his duchess, if he will still have me."
"Of course he will!" Mrs. Hale said. "He loves you, and is certain to be waiting for you."
"Indeed," Mrs. Baird said. "Now go pack your portmanteau, so you can go to London in the morning and fetch your duke."
"Yes," Mrs. Pettibone agreed, frowning rather fiercely. "We have missed him terribly. Do not withhold him from us again."
Rosalinde laughed, her heart brimming with optimism. "I promise I shall never do so again."
Chapter 13
"Another broken wheel?" Julian fumed. "Two in one day? Have the fates no mercy?"
Filled with hopefulness, he had procured a special license before beginning his trip back to Rosalinde. Unfortunately, the short distance had been filled with obstacles, and his expected two-day jaunt had become four.
If only he could let Rosalinde know that he was returning to her. She had no reason to believe he was. Absence was supposedly the way to make a heart grow fonder, but he feared it would make hers grow forgetful.
He resisted the urge to kick the offending carriage wheel. It would not do to appear with an actual injury. He still needed to atone for the false one.
"Frederick, how much longer before we can recommence our journey?"
Frederick frowned. "It will be a few hours until the wheel can be replaced, Your Grace."
Julian growled his frustration, but turned aside so Frederick would not think it was directed at him. "If only I could get word to Rosalinde—"
A rumbling sound made him look up. He frowned, for the carriage appeared very familiar…And no wonder! It was one of his own. In the next instant he saw Felicia waving to him from the open window, calling the coachman to a halt.
He glanced inside the carriage, not surprised to see Great-Aunt Aurore fast asleep in the midst of hatboxes of every shape and size.
"Felicia, I have never been so ecstatic for you to disregard my instructions."
"I tried to wait until you had written that you had met with success," she said with a laugh. "But I grew impatient."
"As have I." He nearly groaned at what that extra two days had been like for him, now that he had begun to believe he could persuade Rosalinde to marry him. "You must continue with your journey, post haste."
She raised her eyebrows. "Why? What has happened?"
"Nothing. And that is what I fear the most. I cannot have Rosalinde believe I have deserted her, even though she insisted I depart."
"You should take our carriage," Felicia insisted. "We can follow as soon as yours is repaired."
Julian was sorely tempted. He glanced once more at Frederick, but the man merely shrugged, unable to give a firm answer on how long the wait might be.
"I appreciate your generosity, Felicia," Julian said, "but it may be longer than we anticipate before the carriage is ready for travel. I would be uneasy knowing you were stranded, all for my own selfish needs."
"We could make room for you—"
Felicia attempted to re-arrange the mountain of hatboxes, accidentally jostling Great-Aunt Aurore in the process. The woman mumbled in her sleep, and then clasped one of the boxes tightly before commencing her snoring once more.
Julian laughed. "Do not disturb her. It would take longer to secure a seat in your carriage than to await a new wheel for mine."
"Then we shall continue on our way. Do you have a message I can deliver?"
Julian nearly blushed at the message he wished to send, but he managed to keep his thoughts under control. "I would prefer to explain myself in person."
"An excellent notion." Felicia grinned. "And I shall not have to resist the temptation of peeking inside your missive."
He kissed her forehead. "Perhaps you could ease the way for me by telling her more about this family curse."
"I would love nothing more!"
***
Rosalinde put the crowning touches on the cake, grateful she had not indulged in testing the amounts of liquor, as she had previously. It brought a wistful smile to her face. She had once feared not living up to the church widows' expectations, afraid her impulsive behavior would shock them, only to discover they had been disappointed at her decision to live a quiet, staid life instead of the one her mother had intended for her all along.
All of a sudden there was the sound of a carriage, and horses whinnying, and a coachman calling out to settle them. She turned to see the coach pulling to a halt outside.
Her heart leapt, even as she chided it for hoping it was Julian. She would be leaving on the morrow, bringing him the cake, along with her love. Would she be too late? Had he had a change of heart?
She pushed the doubts aside and hurried out of the house, into the yard. She did not recognize the carriage, or the coachman. It must be a wayward traveler, needing directions, or someone needing succor from her father.
Before the coachman could descend and unlock the carriage door, a young woman popped her head through the open window. She was incredibly beautiful, and when she saw Rosalinde, her eyes widened with interest.
"Oh, I am so happy to see you!" She impatiently tried to open the carriage door, but it would not cooperate.
Rosalinde raced forward to help. "I think I have got it."
"Thank you." The coachman had finally alighted, and appeared just in time to lower the step, for the young beauty was clearly impatient to depart the carriage. "You are just as beautiful as he told us."
Rosalinde blushed. Who could have told this Incomparable that Rosalinde was beautiful? Surely Mr. Moulton would never have uttered such words. He liked her stability and resourcefulness and other character traits that had more to do with aiding his future business growth.
Before she could puzzle it out, there was another female voice added to the mix. "I must see her for myself!"
"Careful," the first woman said. "We cannot have you suffering an injury before the wedding."
"Oh no, that would not do. Not at all."
Both women beamed at her. For the briefest moment Rosalinde envied them, attending a wedding on what was the most exquisite spring day.
The younger one was likely excited to see her betrothed. Rosalinde sniffed back the unexpected tears. How long before she could enjoy others' nuptials? Perhaps it would take years, or decades. She could attend funerals throughout the county as a professional mourner.
"Forgive me," Rosalinde said, gathering herself together. "If you would like to come inside and sit for a spell, until you are ready to continue on your journey—"
The older woman's face brightened. "That sounds delightful. Felicia, I may need your assistance getting through the carriage door."
Rosalinde blinked. Why was that name so familiar?
Felicia laughed. "Great-Aunt Aurore, this is why you must give up on those bonnets from the previous century. You cannot enter or leave a carriage without contorting yourself. And Julian could have accompanied us if you had not insisted on traveling with all of these hatboxes."
"It was Julian who purchased this hat for me. I was not about to leave it behind."
Their mention of Julian startled Rosalinde. She studied both women for several moments, as they began to descend from the carriage. Felicia had the same twinkling eyes and mischievous smile as Julian. His sister! Had he sent her? Was he on his way as well?
Rosalinde could not keep her hands from shaking, which made it difficult to assist Great-Aunt Aurore through the narrow opening of the carriage, but somehow she managed. The older wo
man stole Rosalinde's heart when she confessed, "I do so love bonnets."
"I do too," Rosalinde whispered, squeezing her hand.
Soon they were sitting in the parlor, Rosalinde doing her best not to pepper her guests with questions. Surely Julian would not have sent his sister and great-aunt here without good reason, would he? She was impatient to tell him how much she loved him, and how wrong she had been to turn him down.
"I have been tasked by Julian to tell you something very important," Felicia said. Rosalinde's stomach jumped with nerves, but as Felicia's voice was filled with cheerfulness, she decided it could not have been something dreadful.
She took a sip of tea to calm herself. "What would that be?"
"The family curse." She pointed to Great-Aunt Aurore and then back to herself. "We have both been affected by it, and now Julian has as well."
Rosalinde blinked. "He mentioned a family curse, involving a woman who eloped several times—"
"That was Felicia," Great-Aunt Aurore said gleefully. "I do so wish Hugh would let us open that elopement academy."
Felicia grinned and patted her aunt's hand. "I hope to bring him around one day."
Rosalinde laughed. They were not at all what she would have expected a duke's relations to be. They were not stuffy, or self-involved, or dismissive of her and her humble abode. In truth, she had never met anyone with whom she felt so comfortable, except Julian.
"So this curse," Rosalinde ventured. "How does it work precisely?"
"Julian fell instantly in love with you," Great-Aunt Aurore began.
"But how?"
Felicia and Great-Aunt Aurore shrugged.
"We are not quite certain," Felicia admitted. "It happened to me at Hugh's betrothal ball, right after I bumped into a beautiful woman counseling me not to give up on love."
"And I fell in love," Great-Aunt Aurore added, "decades ago, with Frederick."
Rosalinde's tea cup fell into the saucer with a clatter. "Frederick?"
Great-Aunt Aurore's face was beatific. "Indeed. It was at a masquerade, after I spoke with a woman in the most ingenious Greek goddess costume."
If Rosalinde had had any remaining concerns about the difference in status between her and Julian, this conversation had just obliterated them. "I have had the opportunity to visit several times with Frederick," she told her guests. "Such a lovely soul."
"I have always found him to be so," Great-Aunt Aurore said. "Although he can have his devilish moments—"
Felicia's eyebrows shot up, as if fearful what her relative might divulge.
Rosalinde bit back a laugh. "Frederick taught me how to play dice, along with a few tricks on how to gain the advantage while playing against Julian."
Felicia burst out laughing. "My brother must have been dismayed at that."
"He was actually quite a good sport," Rosalinde said. "Oh, I must give you a tour of the gardens, since Frederick is the one who brought them back to their former glory."
This time Great-Aunt Aurore could not hide her shock. Rosalinde suspected there was not much that surprised this woman, yet Frederick's gardening abilities had done the trick.
"This family curse," Rosalinde said, wanting more information about it. "It seems as though it can be rather troublesome for you."
Great-Aunt Aurore nodded solemnly. "It affects us all quite differently. Although we all seem to fall in love with someone who at first glance appears to be completely wrong for us."
"I never thought Julian would be afflicted by it," Felicia confessed. "Or at least I never thought he would admit he was."
"Julian told you I refused his offer of marriage?"
Felicia nodded. "I have never seen him so bereft," she added cheerfully. "Normally I would have teased him about his troubles, but I decided to give him advice instead."
Great-Aunt Aurore clucked her tongue. "What a strange thing to witness. It is usually Julian who provides the advice. There is no one steadier than he."
"Someone in this family must be," Felicia said with a wink. "It cannot be either of us."
Great-Aunt tilted her head back and laughed. "No, neither of us have the requisite experience."
Rosalinde's curiosity could not be contained. "What advice did you give him?"
***
Julian stood at the doorway, completely enchanted by the sight of Rosalinde and Felicia and Great-Aunt Uproar enjoying a cozy chat. There was a great deal of laughter and hilarity, along with a sense of them having become instant friends.
He sighed with happiness. The delays and trials and tribulations of getting to Rosalinde were finally at an end. His heart leapt at the thought of her being in his arms. The rest of his body responded with equal elation at her being in his bed one day, hopefully soon.
He prayed she would agree to his proposal this time. He wished he could insist on the ceremony occurring this very evening. He could scarce wait to see his beautiful bride in the candlelight, although he was just as enamored of her in the fading afternoon sunshine.
"Julian!" Felicia cried out. "It is about time you appeared. Had you waited any longer we would have informed Rosalinde of all your most grievous flaws."
He grinned. "I suspect she is already aware of them."
Rosalinde began to protest, but he could see the hopefulness in her eyes as she looked at him. There was something else there too. Admiration, and perhaps even adoration? A man could only hope.
He crossed the room and lifted Rosalinde's hand to his lips. "I hope you have managed to survive this boisterous lot without suffering a megrim."
Felicia, seated nearby, swatted at his arm. "You are nearly as atrocious as my husband." She laughed. "I almost wish he was here to see you so besotted."
Julian chuckled. "He shall see it soon enough. I hope. Is there any chance I could speak with Rosalinde privately?"
Felicia bolted out of her chair, pulling Great-Aunt Aurore up with her. "Is Frederick outside? Perhaps he can give us a tour of the gardens."
"Excellent idea!"
Great-Aunt Aurore headed for the door. Felicia followed, halting to give Julian a brief hug, along with a light pinch.
"For luck," she said, laughing as she sailed out the doorway.
Julian turned his gaze back to Rosalinde.
"Mr. Selby. I mean, Your Grace…"
He tried to determine what she might be thinking, but he was at a loss just then. Her expression gave away no hints. Her hands were clasped in front of her, though not clenched. For the first time, he understood his sister Felicia's impatience when it came to fulfilling the family curse.
It was devilish having to wait when he was so certain, and determined, about what should occur next.
"Please," he said. "I would prefer you call me Julian."
Her lips lifted in the sweetest smile. "I would prefer it as well. I am not sure I will ever become accustomed to calling you by your title."
"I know you have reasons to doubt me. And dukes in general."
She frowned, but he saw her lips twitch. "They do have a tendency to disappear from this portion of the realm, never to be seen again."
He laughed. "Only those who have not been verified as actual dukes. Now stop frowning. I truly am a duke."
"It is difficult to know for certain, since you are nothing like the previous one who came through here."
"That is the problem with faux dukes. They spoil everything for the rest of us."
She laughed, but then her own expression clouded. "I feared I had spoiled everything for us."
Julian stepped closer, heartened by her admission. "You have spoiled nothing. How could you? I was the one who deceived you, thanks to my own insecurities, and I paid the price, losing your faith in me."
"I deceived myself," she said, taking one step nearer to him. "I had convinced myself your love would not remain true. That was unfair of me. Especially when you had gone to such great lengths to win my heart."
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I made a muddle of
things, but I vow I shall spend the next eternity loving you to make up for it. Marry me, Rosalinde."
"I love you, Julian." She lifted on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "And yes, I will marry you."
"I have brought a special license," he said, his heart thundering. "So that we may wed soon. Very soon."
She nodded, her beautiful face ecstatic. "My father will be able to perform the ceremony. Unless…had you planned on a grand affair in London?"
"No, I would much prefer the wedding be here." He gathered her closer once more. "Where I fell in love."
She beamed, rewarding him with another heartfelt kiss. "Thank you. I still need to accustom myself to this new lifestyle I am embarking upon."
"I know. But do not forget, I shall be with you the entire time. You will not be thrown to the wolves. Although perhaps I should fear for the safety of the wolves. Especially once they see your skill with dice."
She laughed, and hugged him tighter. "I am still convinced you are suffering from a brain fever." She tilted her head back. "But I am also convinced I am the one to help you overcome that."
"As am I." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Rosalinde, you have made me the happiest of men. We should inform everyone of our betrothal."
He stepped back, or rather, he attempted to do so, but Rosalinde's hands were clutched around his waist, preventing him from retreating. He couldn't halt his grin.
"Don't forget to mention that it shall be a very short betrothal," she said.
Her breath quickened, and her cheeks got rosier, and when she lifted her eyes, bright with anticipation, he felt his heart nearly burst with love.
"I shall adore you all my days."
He pressed his lips to hers, softly, tenderly, and she thrilled him by throwing her arms around his neck. The kiss became more heated. He tried not to think of having Rosalinde in his bed, but her responses made it difficult to keep those thoughts at bay. She moaned, softly, and wriggled closer against him, stroking his hair with her delicate fingers.
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