Lady Rosabella's Ruse (27 page)

‘Damn it, what are you suggesting?’

‘You must like her or you wouldn’t have—’

Garth put up a warning hand. ‘I find her attractive, yes. It might not be my first choice, but I am not as unhappy about this marriage as I might have expected.’

‘You could be a little more enthused. Tell her you care for her.’

The very idea of talking about feelings tied his stomach in a knot. ‘Why is she being so idiotic about this? She could be carrying my child. There is no choice but marriage, no matter how much money her father left.’

Another wince from his friend. ‘You—’

‘All right. I’ll talk to her. Tell her I care. It is all nonsense, but if it makes her happy, I’ll do it.’

The doubt in Mark’s face offered little hope of success.

‘Don’t worry, I know how to charm a woman.’

‘That’s what she’s afraid of.’

‘What?’

‘It is why she doesn’t want to see you. She is afraid you will charm her into wedding you. That’s what she told Penelope.’

Garth glowered at him. ‘Why the hell did she come to your house in the first place?’

‘Penelope. She told her yesterday that if she ever needed help she could come to us.’

‘Nice of her,’ Garth snarled.

‘You didn’t want me to turn her away, did you?’

No. His blood turned to ice at the thought of Rosabella with no one to turn to. Alone in London. Vulnerable. He shook his head. ‘No. If it had to be anyone, I’m glad she came to you and Penelope.’

Glad for her. He just wished she hadn’t left.

Her departure had created an empty place in his chest. He felt as if a piece of him was missing. A piece he hadn’t realised was part of him until he lost it.

No. Rosabella was his responsibility and he wasn’t going to let her go. ‘Convince her to let me talk to her.’

Mark pushed to his feet. ‘I’ll try, but you know I have never seen a woman as determined as Lady Rosabella.’

Chapter Sixteen

F
or the first time in three days, Rosa felt as if she had time to think. Penelope handed her a cup of tea. ‘Everything is arranged, then?’

Rosa nodded. The solicitor had just left. Earlier a jeweller had valued the stone at ten thousand pounds. A fortune. Such a sum carefully invested in the Funds after the debts were paid would mean that she and her sisters would lack for nothing.

The best part was knowing Father had not forgotten them. Knowing his love had remained strong and true, even if the form of it had been a complete surprise. Everything had finally worked out just as it should. She should feel happy. Carefree.

She didn’t. She felt as if her heart had been torn in two and might never feel whole again. She’d let herself fall for a man without any heart at all.

She took a sip of tea. ‘Yes, that is everything.’ She managed a smile, even if it was a bit wobbly. ‘I can’t thank you and Mark enough for all your help. If there is anything I can ever do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.’

A sad little smile crossed her friend’s face. She straightened her spine. ‘I don’t think there is anything anyone can do.’

They both knew she referred to the strained relations between her and her husband.

The same fate awaited her if she married Garth. A pang of loss stopped her breath. For all that she knew the kind of man he was, she missed him. She missed his touch, and his laughter, when he wasn’t playing the cynical nobleman. She’d thought the face he showed to the world was a mask, but she’d been wrong. The charming honest man he played when he was alone with her was a front. The face he used to seduce women. The true man was the one she’d seen with his mother.

The choice was to shut him out of her life or let him break her heart over and over again. Once was enough.

Penelope put down her tea cup. ‘He came again this morning.’

Garth. No, she really must think of him as Stanford now. ‘I heard.’

‘He says he will come every day until you see him.’

‘He will be spending a great deal of time at your front door.’

‘Mark said he has something he needs to say.’

She’d heard that, too. Instinctively, her hand flattened on her stomach. She put down her cup with a sigh. ‘I suppose I should tell him myself.’ It would stop him from bothering her. It was the only reason he had for persisting in his suit and with that reason gone he could continue on his merry dissipated way.

‘It would be the kind thing to do.’

But scary. Garth was very persuasive when he had her alone. Charming and seductive. It had been that way from the first. Just hearing his voice from a distance made her insides clench and her hands tremble with longing.

Surely not? She’d had time away from him, enough distance to recognise her weakness and to come to terms with what was, rather than what she dreamed could be. He would never love her. It was not what he wanted. She was not what he wanted. Not really.

‘Next time he calls, I will see him, if you will stay with me.’

Penelope winced. ‘He won’t like it, but I will, if that is what you want.’

‘I do.’

‘When did you want to look at houses?’

Several possible properties had been brought to her attention by the lawyer Mark had retained.

‘Tomorrow. After I have seen Garth.’

‘Are you sure you do not wish to come out to dinner with us tonight?’

‘No, thank you. Your advice is wise. I should wait until next Season before going out in society. Get established. Make some morning calls with you, if you are still of a mind, and then seek a sponsor for the presentation of my sisters at court.’

‘Then you won’t mind if I leave you now to dress for dinner?’

‘Not at all. I think I will just take supper in my room and seek an early night. It has been a long and tiring few days.’

Penelope stood and leaned over her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘I am so happy everything worked out so well for you. I just wish…’ She shook her head. ‘Never mind.’

She left the room in a rustle of silks.

With the owners out and supper over, the house was quiet and still. Rosa still hadn’t written to her grandfather. He deserved to know she had changed her mind about marrying Garth and the sooner the better.

She sat down at the desk and sharpened her quill. The words didn’t come easily. She didn’t know if it was the heat of the evening making her hot and sticky, or the difficulty phrasing the letter. She wiped her hands on her handkerchief and tossed a crumpled attempt into the waste basket beside the hearth.

She pulled another sheet out of her desk drawer, her father’s desk, which Garth had sent over on her second day here, and began anew.

Dear Grandfather, I hope your health is as good as ever.

She tapped the feather against her lip.
While we have not always been in accord…

The sound of a bump came from beyond the window that looked out over the small walled garden at the back of the house. Someone outside? One of the servants going to the privy? Oh, she was so easily distracted from her task. Not this time. She would finish it.

A large figure hurtled through her open window and landed with a thump on one knee. A scream rushed from her throat. She leapt to her feet, the chair falling backwards with a clatter.

‘Hush,’ the figure said, rising. ‘It is only me.’

Garth? Here? In her chamber. ‘What on earth are you doing? Are you drunk?’

A sardonic smile crossed his lips. ‘Drunk doesn’t seem to help.’

She ran for the bell pull. He stepped in front of her, large and intimidating, sullen. ‘Hear me out.’

‘I will hear you tomorrow. I already told Penelope I would.’

‘I know,’ he said grimly. ‘She told me when we met at dinner. I wouldn’t have gone, but I thought you would be there.’

‘Come back tomorrow.’

‘I don’t need an audience.’

Rosabella tried not to look at the bed. ‘There is nothing we need say to each other that would possibly cause us embarrassment in the presence of another. Indeed, should we meet at any time in future, it will never be alone.’

His shoulders stiffened. His eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so cowardly. If you can hear me tomorrow, you can hear me now.’

The proud arrogant bearing told her he wouldn’t leave, no matter what she said. She folded her arms over her chest. ‘Very well. Have your say, but stay on your side of the room.’

He flashed a grin of triumph and she had the strong desire to bash him over the head with a fire-iron.

He crossed the room to the door, turned the key and put it in his pocket. ‘In case you decide to run away before I’m finished.’

‘Perhaps you should also remove the ladder in case I go through the window. It was a ladder you used, I assume?’

‘Taking a leaf out of our honoured Lord Chancellor’s book,’ he said cheerfully.

Years before, Lord Eldon had run off to Gretna Green with an heiress by escaping with her down a ladder. In the end, it had been one of the most successful and happy of marriages. If Garth thought she would elope with him, he had porridge for brains.

‘Hurry up and tell me what you want. I am tired and in need of a good night’s sleep.’

His eyes slid to the bed and a smile curved his lips.

Heat warmed her belly as she remembered their last night together. Dash it, he only had to smile and she lost all reason. Why had she reminded him they were in her bedroom? She tapped her foot. ‘Well?’

He cleared his throat as if it had suddenly gone tight.

A nervous Garth? Now that was something new.

He dropped to one knee in front of her. She backed away, putting her hands behind her when he reached for them. It didn’t stop his flow of words. He fixed his dark eyes on her face with no vestige of a smile. ‘Rosabella Cavendish, I am asking you to be my wife.’ He held her gaze for a long moment. ‘I love you.’

The words lacked conviction and still the air rushed from her lungs. The three words she’d most longed to hear on his lips scored a path through her heart, leaving it bloody and torn. Why did he have to say them now, when she didn’t need him? When she couldn’t pretend they were real, because she knew the truth? Her heart urged her to run to him, to let him fold her in his arms, to tell him what was in her heart, but she didn’t believe him. She couldn’t. When he grew tired of her, he’d take her heart and flail it with his tongue. The pride, the arrogance, his presence here, was all about winning. He just wanted his own way.

In the end, neither of them would be happy.

No matter the pain in her heart, the longing to give in, she shook her head, knowing she was right. ‘You don’t have any idea about love. You said so yourself.’ She took a deep breath, knowing what she would say next would sever the tie between them forever. ‘And besides, it is not necessary—I am not carrying your child.’

If she had known better, she would have thought the fleeting expression on his face was disappointment. As it was, she could only assume it was chagrin at being forced to bend his knee, tell her what he thought she wanted to hear, only to be refused.

‘Not with child,’ he said slowly. His eyes were unfathomable, his expression carefully blank.

Though he showed no emotion, she was sure he must be pleased at the reprieve. ‘No. So there is no need for your sacrifice.’

His eyes blazed. ‘Damnation, Rosabella, it was not and is not a sacrifice.’

‘When you never wanted to be married in the first place?’

‘I’ve changed my mind. Didn’t you hear me say I love you?’ He held out his hand to her. ‘I ruined you. You have to marry me. I’m not entirely devoid of honour.’ He smiled at her, encouraging her to relent.

Honour. The real reason for this display. His honour was at stake. His declaration of love was nothing but words.

‘You don’t believe in love.’

‘I’m pretty sure I love my brother.’ He looked as if he’d said something painful.

‘But not your mother or your father.’

‘No.’

‘It is your duty to love them.’

Bleak eyes stared back at her. ‘Why, when they both wished I had never been born.’

‘Why would you say such a thing?’

His expression tightened. He shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. ‘Let us just say I was not the son they wanted.’

‘No one can choose their children.’

His smile was grim. ‘So my father discovered.’

‘The way you spoke to your mother…’ Just thinking about it made her feel sick. Who was to say how long it would be before she was the target of his cruelty? Before he was throwing up the fact that she’d trapped him into a marriage he didn’t want. She’d have no defence. A man who did not love his mother had no concept of love. ‘I’m sorry, I really do not think we would suit.’

‘I care for you, Rosabella.’

He sounded so sincere, she wanted to believe him, she really did. Her whole body vibrated with the longing to go to him. But what they shared was not love. It was attraction. A physical thing. Having seen the love between her mother and father, she would not settle for less. Not when she didn’t have to. ‘Love is much bigger than a word. It is deed and thought. You destroy people with wicked words and think nothing of it. You threatened to take my child from me if I did not do as you wanted. That is not love.’

His hands opened and closed. ‘I was angry. I didn’t mean it.’

‘Love isn’t a weapon.’

He stared at her, his face draining of colour. ‘Then you will not accept my offer?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, crippled by the pain in her chest and trying not to show it.

‘I’m sorry, too.’ He closed the distance between them, took her mouth in a kiss of passion. Hard and fast and full of anger. It softened to something else: regret, loss. Or were those emotions all in her own mind?

Only by force of will could she remain stiff, unyielding, cold to his touch. And even then her heart reached out, beating hard and fast in her chest with longing. She felt herself weakening and stiffened her spine.

He pulled away, breathing hard.

She touched a finger to her lips. ‘Goodbye, Garth.’

He spun around and unlocked the door. He opened it, stood for a moment with his back to her. ‘I’m sorry.’ He strode out.

Tears running down her face, she closed the door to the sound of his running footsteps on the stairs. The pain inside her chest felt worse than anything she’d ever imagined. This time he would not come back.

They would never make a child together, or play cricket on the beach with their children. She would never marry.

She couldn’t. He would always take up too much room in her heart.

Love isn’t a weapon.
But what the hell was it? Garth stared into his burgundy, hoping the answer might emerge from its ruby depths. It didn’t.

He pushed his untouched dinner aside with an impatient hand and took his glass to the window, looking down into the street. It was like one of those childhood riddles where the answer, once known, was obvious, but took ages to tease out. A half-smile touched his lips. Kit had been good at those riddles. Garth had preferred action.