Gray looked at Rosalinde. There were finger-shaped bruises on her throat. His vision went red again at the sight and he lunged toward Fitzgilbert, but Folly and Lucien kept him steady.
“Enough,” Lucien said in his ear. “Enough.”
“Keep him away from me,” Fitzgilbert said, covering his bleeding nose and pushing through the crowd to exit the room. Gray could hear him calling for his horse as he left.
“All right,” Gray said, shrugging from the hold of his brother and friend. “All right.”
They released him at last, and he straightened his coat as he made his way directly to Rosalinde. He took her hands and guided her to a chair. She sat and he knelt down before her, tracing her face with his fingers as if to tell himself that she was whole.
She was pale and shaking, her eyes filled with tears as she stared at him.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She held his stare. “Yes,” she whispered, but her voice was rough from being choked.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have killed him.”
She covered his fingers with her hands and squeezed. “You did enough, Gray. Thank you for coming to my aid.”
“Everyone out,” Stenfax said, looking toward the crowd.
It was only then that Gray really realized what was happening. A good portion of the party had seen at least some part of his pummeling of Fitzgilbert and all of his comforting of Rosalinde. They were staring, whispering. The story was too good not to spread like wildfire.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered before he stood. She clung to his hand a moment, then released him.
As Lady Stenfax hustled the crowd from the room, exhaustion on her face, Felicity entered and crossed to Gray. She looked up into his face and sighed. “You don’t know how to do anything by half.”
He shook his head. “Fitzgilbert tried to kill her.”
Felicity jolted back. “Oh, Rosalinde,” she said, looking toward her. All the blood had gone out of her face and she swayed ever so slightly as she saw Rosalinde’s bruises. Gray frowned as his sister lifted her hands to her own throat in response, as if remembering. “I’m sorry,” she said at last.
Rosalinde blushed and dipped her head. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Felicity hugged Gray and he felt her tremble for a moment before she whispered, “I’m sorry. I tried to keep them out. The noise was so loud, I couldn’t distract them all.”
“It’s not your fault,” Gray reassured her.
Stenfax sidled up and Felicity stepped back. “I’ll try to help Mama mitigate the damage,” she said, squeezing first one brother’s hand then the other.
She departed the room, leaving only Folly behind. He shook his head slowly at the brothers and bowed to Celia and Rosalinde. “I’m glad you were not injured, Mrs. Wilde.”
“Thank you for your help,” Celia said when Rosalinde didn’t look up.
Her gaze seemed locked on the floor now, and Gray wasn’t certain if she was reliving the moment when her grandfather had actually tried to kill her or if she were swamped by the humiliation of what had followed.
Perhaps both.
It stung Gray to see her so still. So somber.
Folly closed the door behind him, leaving Gray, Lucien, Rosalinde and Celia alone at last. Celia took a place beside her sister and took her hand as she stared up at the two men.
Stenfax took a long breath and moved to the women. “Rosalinde, are you certain you aren’t injured?”
She looked up at him. “I’m certain, my lord,” she said, though the scratchiness of her voice persisted. “Gray’s quick action kept me from any permanent harm. I was shocked more than anything.”
“As were we all,” Stenfax said with a shake of his head. He paced away across the room. “That was a damned spectacle,” he murmured.
Gray watched his brother. Waves of tension coursed from him, as well as anger and outrage. He was surprised to find he was happy to see Stenfax so emotional. This wasn’t dangerous like the night on the terrace wall. But it was real. And he hadn’t seen his real brother for nearly two years.
Rosalinde was watching him, too. “My lord—” she began.
Stenfax turned, his hand up. “Forgive me, Rosalinde, but I believe you have said enough. About what you think should happen, about truths that have shocked us all. You and my brother have said a mouthful lately. Now it is between Celia and me.” He motioned to Celia. “Will you come here, please?”
Celia rose slowly and walked toward Stenfax, her shoulders back and her chin raised. She looked like she was marching to her execution. Gray could hardly blame her. After everything they had been through in the past half an hour, she had to believe his brother might be cruel.
Which proved she didn’t know Lucien at all. And proved Rosalinde’s earlier point about the poor quality of their match.
“Are you all right?” Stenfax asked, his tone softer, warmer.
Celia blinked as if surprised by his inquiry. “I-I can’t believe he would do that. I always knew his capacity for vindictiveness, but if Gray hadn’t stopped him—”
Stenfax took her hand. Gray realized it was the first time he’d ever seen him do so, unless it was required. He held it gently. “But Gray did stop him,” Stenfax said softly. “I’m so sorry, Celia.”
She nodded. “Thank you. But you must think so little of me now. Seeing what my grandfather did. Hearing the truth about my parentage. I know it shocked me, I cannot imagine your reaction.”
“Celia, I think no less of you than I did the day I asked for your hand,” Stenfax said with a shake of his head. “You are no more in control of your grandfather’s actions than you are of the wind or the rain. As for your parentage, yes, I suppose that secret coming out could cause a scandal, but that wouldn’t stop me from wedding you.”
“You still wish to wed me?” Celia asked, her tone filled with disbelief, and Gray thought some disappointment.
“Your sister’s points before the chaos were very good ones,” Stenfax said. “And I think we both know that to be true. So before I answer your question about whether we should wed, I think you need to answer this one: do you care for me, Celia?”
She hesitated for a moment, and Gray could see her fighting with herself. Then she smiled. Perhaps it was the first real smile he had ever seen from her. He had to admit, it was an appealing expression.
“No,” Celia said with a small laugh. “I do not love you even in the slightest. Do you care for me?”
“Looking at you, so beautiful, knowing your intelligence and your kindness, I’m sure this answer speaks of my poor character, but no, Celia. I don’t. Not the way a husband should. Do you want more than what a marriage between us would entail?”
Celia nodded without hesitation. “I thought I didn’t, but I find that I do, Stenfax. I do. And I think you deserve more.”
Gray shut his eyes. They would not wed. This had been his desire for months, only Elise’s situation had changed his mind. But now he found he was not upset by it. He was not pleased by it, either. In the end, it had been his brother’s decision. And Gray couldn’t fault him for making it. Even if he was terrified about what Lucien would do once he found out Elise was free.
But that was a matter to be dealt with another day.
“Are you saying you two are breaking the engagement?” Rosalinde said softly as she slowly rose from the settee.
Celia smiled once again at Lucien and then slipped off the ring she had been given just that summer. She handed it to him, then leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Yes,” she said before she turned to go back to her sister.
“Yes,” Stenfax agreed as he placed the ring in his front pocket and patted it to ensure its safety.
Stenfax smiled, and Gray stared in wonder. His brother looked…happy. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seem him thus.
Celia returned to Rosalinde and slid an arm around her. They rested the
ir heads against each other a moment before Rosalinde’s smile fell.
“I’m happy you are doing what is in your heart,” she said. “Though I do worry about Grandfather.” Her delicate hands came up to touch her throat, and Gray flinched.
“I do, too,” Celia said with a shudder. “How could we go home with him after what he tried to do to Rosalinde?”
Gray stepped forward. “We’ll work it out.” Rosalinde looked at him, a question on her face. Doubt. And in that moment, he knew exactly what he would do to save her. “We’ll work it out,” he repeated, firm and certain.
Celia cocked her head. “You sound like you have an idea of what happens next. Would you care to share it?”
Stenfax leaned against the edge of his desk again. “So much has happened. Why don’t we start with simply discussing how we will announce the breaking of the engagement? And the arrangements for the next few days? We will work out the rest as we go.”
Celia and Rosalinde exchanged a glance, then nodded together. “Very well,” Celia said. “Let’s talk about the end of the engagement.”
Gray stretched his back as he stood. It had been an hour since the four of them had started this conversation about their next step. There seemed to be few good answers for what they would tell the others about the broken engagement, but at least he knew Rosalinde and Celia would be safe for the time being. Stenfax had agreed to let them stay a week and to keep Fitzgilbert away from them if he returned.
Everything else was still to be worked out, but he wasn’t about to reveal his plan in front of everyone. He wanted to talk to Rosalinde alone.
“I’ll have supper sent up to you,” Stenfax said with a smile for the women. “And I’m sure no one will be surprised by your absence after all that has happened today.”
“They’ll whisper more,” Celia said with a shake of her head. “But if it buys us more time to come up with a story, then I suppose I have to accept that.”
Rosalinde squeezed her hand. “We’ll find something to say. I’ll take the blame.”
Celia didn’t seem convinced, but she smiled at the two men as she left the room. Rosalinde followed, but stopped before she exited.
“Gray,” she said softly, meeting his gaze from across the room. It was like she had tied a string between them. He couldn’t help but take a step toward her, pulled toward her by their powerful connection.
“Yes?”
“Thank you again,” she whispered. “You saved my life.”
He could think of nothing to say in the face of her bald emotion. So he merely nodded and watched as she left.
When he could find the strength to move, he turned back to his brother and found Lucien staring at him, arms folded. “Close the door,” Lucien said.
Gray wrinkled his brow. “Very well.” He did as he had been asked and then returned to Lucien. “You have more to discuss with me?”
Lucien laughed, but the sound held no humor. “I have so many questions that I hardly know where to start. I suppose first must be, how long have you known that Elise was a widow?”
Gray froze. Lucien’s mouth was a hard line and his hands were fisted at his sides as he waited for the answer to his very direct question.
“Elise is a widow?” Gray repeated, more to buy time than because he intended to lie.
“I didn’t think you knew—I thought it was a secret until you said that marrying Celia was best for me. That word, your sudden about-face on the topic of my fiancée revealed you, Gray. So don’t sport with my intelligence. How long?”
“Only since yesterday,” Gray admitted. “Who told you, Folly and Marina?”
Lucien let out his breath in a burst. “No. But of course they would know. And they hid it, too. With friends like these…”
Gray shook his head. “You want to pretend you don’t know exactly why we didn’t tell you? Why the three of us might want to keep such information from you?”
A cloud crossed Lucien’s expression and he nodded. “Very well, I understand your reasons, I suppose. I have reacted imprudently in the past when it came to Elise.”
“Imprudently?” Gray repeated. “You call nearly killing yourself imprudent? It was one of the most horrifying experiences of my life.”
Lucien swallowed. “The point is, you kept it from me. In fact, you decided I must marry because of it.”
“I know you and I knew you wouldn’t go to Elise if you were wed. You wouldn’t break vows like that, it isn’t in your nature.”
Lucien shrugged. “But you think I’d go to her now that I’m free. Or soon to be.”
“Will you?” Gray asked, leaning forward as he awaited the answer.
Lucien rubbed a hand over his face. “What would I have to say to that woman, Gray? Nothing. She is nothing to me and she never will be again. Her being a widow changes…it changes nothing.”
Gray frowned. There was something in the way his brother’s voice caught that made him doubt the veracity of his statement. But it was done now.
“If Folly and Marina didn’t tell you, who did?” he asked.
“I overheard one of the women whispering about it. The family may be trying to keep whatever happened quiet, but it’s about to explode.”
“Well, perhaps that scandal will trump yours,” Gray offered.
“No, it will be bound to mine,” Lucien said, his voice faraway. “Even though I want nothing to do with her, people will whisper about us and our scandals, as if we were still linked.” He shook his head. “But that leads me to my next question. How long have you and Rosalinde Wilde been…attached?”
Gray flinched at his term. “Attached?”
“You want me to be more direct?” Lucien asked, his voice elevating. “How long have you been bedding her? I assume from your behavior today that is what you’ve done.”
Gray lifted his chin as anger pulsed through him. “Careful now. That is a lady.”
“Have you treated her as such?” his brother countered.
“She is a magnet to me,” Gray explained softly. “I am drawn to her without trying to be, sometimes without wanting to be. And I have failed in my behavior, I realize. But I intend to fix that now.”
Lucien’s anger faded from his face. “Fix it? How?”
“She and Celia need a savior. They obviously can never return to Fitzgilbert—he is too volatile. I’m going to ask Rosalinde to marry me. Celia can stay with us. My money and influence should ensure Fitzgilbert won’t be able to say much about it.”
“You’re going to ask her to marry you?” Lucien was staring at Gray as if he had suggested he was going to breed poodles and start traveling in the circus with them.
“People marry, Lucien. You needn’t look so surprised.”
“You have always behaved as if you never would,” his brother retorted. “So you must forgive my surprise.”
“It is the right thing to do,” he said.
“Right. Is that the only reason?”
Gray let his thoughts turn to Rosalinde. To all she had become to him, to all he wanted her to be. But to say those things out loud felt very dangerous, even to a person he trusted with his life.
“It will help you out of a mess,” he suggested, changing the subject. “We can tell the world that Rosalinde and I fell in love, but that her grandfather refused to allow the marriage because he wanted his two granddaughters to give him connection to more than one family. That will explain my untoward behavior this afternoon.”
“You snapped when he refused to let you have your bride,” Lucien said. “So driven by your passions were you.”
Gray nodded. “And you and Celia, with your arranged marriage, could see that your siblings would not be happy without each other. So you nobly stepped aside to allow us to wed in your place, freeing Celia to marry into another important family to appease her grandfather.”
Lucien considered the story. “If told correctly, it might just make the ton support what was done, rath
er than shun Celia and despise me.” Lucien sighed. “Of course, this assumes Rosalinde will accept your proposal.”
Gray took a deep breath. “Yes, there is that. But I am off to have that discussion with her right now. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone because the pressure might have been too much after what she went through today.”
Lucien observed him for what felt like a very long time. Long enough that Gray shifted beneath his focused regard. Then his brother waved his hand.
“Off with you then. And I hope she says yes to your offer.”
Gray smiled. “As do I.”
“I also hope at some point you tear down that wall around yourself and actually let the girl love you as she obviously does,” Lucien added as he turned his back and began to stack the papers on his desk.
Gray stared at Stenfax’s back, but he had nothing to say to that statement.
“Yes, well, I’ll let you know her answer once I have it,” he said, and left the room. But as he strode up the stairs to the woman he hoped would be his bride, Lucien’s words rang in his head.
And made him think of things he didn’t want to think of. And want things he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rosalinde sat at the small table in the chamber she shared with Celia, staring at the plates before them. Neither of them had eaten since the food was delivered. They had hardly spoken either, as the gravity of all that had happened that day sank in bit by bit.
“Do you think he’ll come back?” Celia asked.
Rosalinde closed her eyes, but her mind conjured images of her grandfather’s rage as he lunged for her. She could still feel his fingers close around her throat, closing off her air.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “He lost control in front of a great many people. That might make him stay away. Either way, I think we both know what will happen next.”
“He’s going to cut us off,” Celia said. “We’ll be on the street.”
“Perhaps not on the street,” Rosalinde replied, trying to sound positive. “Stenfax and his family have been kind, and they say they won’t let us fall to complete ruin.”
An Affair in Winter (Seasons Book 1) Page 19