A Duke's Garden of Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 12

  “There is nothing. No hope at all,” she said.

  “What an awful position to be in. Are you quite certain that you can think of nothing?” Albion asked.

  “If I could, I would have long since made a change for the better. But my father insists that it must be this way. He says that I have no choice but to marry Horace” she said.

  “Even though he knows what sort of man he is and how you dislike him?” Albion asked.

  “Indeed, even with that. My father knows how tormented I am by this, but we are stuck. It is the only option if my family is to survive. He owns our shop and our home. We rent the properties from him. And if I marry him, he will not charge us anything. My father cannot afford to pay with his increases,” she said.

  “So he is manipulating you? This man, I mean?” Albion asked.

  “I suppose. He has done all that he can to ensure that I am stuck with him. I do not know why he has chosen me. He is the sort of man to flit from one woman to the next,” she said.

  “Miss Fleet, I am upset by what you are telling me and I must urge you to follow your heart,” Albion said.

  For a moment, their eyes locked upon one another. He wanted to hold her there, to maintain the eye contact and to tell her everything that was on his heart.

  He wanted to take his own advice.

  But it took him too long to be brave. She looked away, embarrassed. Instead of telling her everything she wanted to, he turned instead to the object of their mutual interest.

  “Miss Fleet,” he said, “a rose like you should never be stuck with a thorn.”

  Chapter 16

  Rosamund was still thinking about the words the duke had said to her the day before. She thought about how he considered her to be lovely as a rose and how he considered Mr. Filbert to be a thorn.

  Oh, and how true it was! He really was a thorn. A thorn in her side and a thorn in her life. He was utterly in the way, causing her grief at every turn. Rosamund wanted so badly to be rid of him, but there was nothing more that could be done and her father had made it very clear to her that he expected her to make this marriage happen.

  But Rosamund wondered more and more each day what would happen if she did not.

  Of course, she could not outright refuse. She could not turn away from him in favour of another man. And if she rejected him, Mr. Filbert would only increase the fees of the family house and the shop. He would take out his anger against them.

  No, she really was stuck.

  Rosamund touched the drying bouquet which she had hung upside down in order to preserve it. It was beautiful and she was thankful to have the stunning florals and to know that she had something so lovely from the duke.

  Indeed, he had been so kind to her and had done something sweet enough that it truly touched her heart. Did he realise that the act would cause her to care for him? Did he know that it would lead her heart into desiring a romance even more than it already had? If so, it was actually quite cruel of him. But if the duke had done it purely out of kindness, Rosamund was simply overwhelmed by her affections for him.

  He had done so many things which were kind to her and she didn’t know how best to respond to them. After all, what could she possibly say in gratitude to the duke? He was a man wholly apart from her. He was wealthy and titled and lived in an enormous estate. There was nothing she could relate to.

  Aside from his love of gardens, he was so distant from anything or anyone she knew. It did not appear as though there was any hope at all to know one another better, either. After all, he would only come to know those with whom he could interact without causing a stir.

  The duke would never engage with someone like her in public, would he? Yes, he had told her that he wished to be friends, but he was only trying to show her some compassion and sympathy at the time.

  It was not as though he really, genuinely cared for her as anything more than a household servant. He treated all of his employees well and was just showing her the same kindness and courtesy that he did to the others.

  But even as Rosamund told herself these things, she did not quite believe it. She realised that she had actually begun to allow herself to have hope that he may be thinking well of her, that he may care for her.

  It was foolish and unfortunate—bound to leave her in distress and with a broken heart. Rosamund recognised the necessity of letting go of these hopes because there was not a chance in all the world that anything good could come from this.

  Instead of dwelling on it she decided to write to Theodore, to ask him if she might be able to speak with him.

  Dear Theodore,

  I do hope you will forgive the fact that I am writing to you when we do see one another often enough at the estate. However, I needed to ask you a question and it could not wait until I lost my nerve. Nor did I wish to be overheard.

  You and I have come to know one another well in our lives and even more so since I began to work for your employer. But I do find myself at somewhat of a loss for his character. I do not know what sort of man he is, nor whether or not my trust in him is misplaced. I have been told by many that he is one thing, but I have not seen it. I have seen only the good.

  If you would be willing to speak with me, to tell me more about him in all the ways which he does not often show to people, I would be most grateful.

  I hope you do not take this to be a betrayal of him. I am not asking you to tell me anything which you would not like to say. Nor anything which would betray his trust or his secrets. I am asking only that you consider helping me to understand him better, to think about what sort of employee I may be, and to look at how I might better serve this man we are both working for.

  If you are willing, please write to me at once and I should like to meet with you outside of the estate. If you are not willing, simply send this letter back to me that I might be rid of it. I do worry that anyone else reading it would think me nothing but a fool.

  Your friend and cousin,

  Rosamund

  She folded the letter, sealed it, and then grabbed a few coins before leaving her home and having the letter sent from town. Rosamund was bound and determined that she would get a response from Theodore by the next day and she was right.

  After a few days away from the estate she was eager to go back, but Theodore agreed to meet with her before then.

  “Come, have a seat,” he said, asking her to join him at his table in the teahouse.

  Rosamund felt somewhat odd and out of place. She was not a young woman of any great means for attending a soiree in a teahouse. She did not even have a chaperone with her that day, thus was the lowliness of her station. And yet, she recognised that for anyone who did not know Theodore to be her relation, it would look quite strange. Some might even assume they were married.

  “Are you all right? Your letter was so…strange. Very dubious. What is it you wish to discuss?” Theodore asked.

  “Exactly what I wrote in the letter,” Rosamund said. “I want to know more about the duke. In fact, I want to know everything. You see, I am so confused about him. I just want everything to be made comprehensible.”

  “Comprehensible? You have come to the wrong man for that,” Theodore said.

  “Do not make that claim. You and I both well know that you have a fine head on your shoulders. I need to hear from you as to what you think. You see, I am utterly at a loss,” she said.

  “How so?” he asked.

  “It is about the duke. And about my marriage. And just…in general, I suppose, it is about me,” she confessed.

  Her words were going nowhere fast. Rosamund wished that she could express herself better, but she was finding it difficult to say anything that made any sense.

  Theodore was being so patient with her, but Rosamund felt sad for him. She recognised that it must be very difficult for him to pay attention to her when his own concerns were clouding his mind. He had not sent word to Juliet in nearly a week as far as Rosamund knew and she could not fathom why. But, here she w
as, coming to him for advice on love and romance.

  “Please, continue,” Theodore said.

  “Very well. Here it is, Theo. I have heard rumours about the duke and I would like to know what is true and what is not,” she said.

  “Why is that? Why does any of it matter to you?” he asked.

  Rosamund spluttered for a moment as though it should all be perfectly obvious to him why it mattered. But then she realised that he could not possibly know what was in her heart and she had no reason to expect him to.

  “Theo, I have heard that he is a madman. I have not seen it, but I would like to know the truth,” she said.

  He scoffed and shook his head.

  “I find it amazing how these rumours are begun and how they spin out of control,” he said.

  “Rumour? So it is not true at all?” she asked.

  “I am sad that you felt the need to ask,” he replied.

  “I did not wish to, but I have been told it by so many people now that I believed it prudent to be sure. You know, I am strong but I am still a woman and, as such, I am vulnerable,” she said.

  “Not from the duke, you are not. He would never even consider the possibility of taking advantage of your femininity and giving you any reason at all to run off and do something foolish. Now you are not vulnerable; you are protected. You are someone the duke is willing to stake his life on,” Theodore said.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  “I mean that he is very particular in who he allows into his life. The fact that you are among those people is quite marvellous and quite telling. I assure you that you would not be among his trusted friends if he were this madman you say he is,” Theodore said.

  “I have not said it. I am merely ensuring that it was all a lie,” she retorted.

  “You ought to know by now that it is a lie. He is not, nor has he ever been, insane. The duke is simply a man who has seen and known a great deal of grief and lives in solitude as a result of it,” Theodore said.

  “But why is he so attached to his solitude? Why would he not wish for company and friends and a life outside of this?” she asked.

  “Because of the losses he has experienced in his life,” Theodore replied. “Surely you can imagine the depth of sadness which he felt in losing his mother and both of his brothers. His father died even before them. He is utterly alone.”

  It was terrible to think about. Still, Rosamund imagined that if she had lost everyone in her life, she would respond by reaching out and trying to grow new friendships and relationships.

  “I just cannot understand being so closed off from others,” she confessed.

  “And I would not like it either. But this is what he has chosen and I cannot blame him for it. He has been through so much, Rosie. Just let him be. Do not judge him for how he responds. We all struggle in our grief,” Theodore said.

  “I know that. I really do,” she said.

  “Then be kind to him through it. Ignore the other voices which you are hearing because they do not know this man. Not as I do. Not even as you do,” he said.

  She agreed with him and understood that the duke had every reason to grieve. The loss he had experienced was truly dreadful and she could not imagine living through such pain. How had he managed it so far? How had he pushed through the sadness and chosen to move on and give his life a chance to flourish? She admired his willingness to try.

  But she could not imagine the loneliness or the willingness to remain with it, even if she did so admire him. It was confusing.

  But what she did know? The thing on which she found it easy to focus, was the fact that the duke was a good man and one who had captivated her in so many ways. Yes, he was easy to think about.

  He was lovely to think about.

  Chapter 17

  “What do you think of this one?” Rosamund asked Juliet, showing her the dress she was eager to wear.

  Juliet’s eyes lit up and it was clear that she thought the dress was beautiful. Then again, it was the best Rosamund had.

  If she had nothing else so lovely, why was she even asking? She felt foolish for having done so. If Juliet had not liked it, it would not have mattered. This was the only thing Rosamund could wear.

  “Well, I am glad that you like it. I was nervous that I would look awful at the ball and I needed to know what you thought,” she said.

  “I think you are going to be the loveliest woman present. Of course, that is not so unusual for you. You are always the loveliest woman present,” Juliet said.

  “Ha! You are such a liar,” Rosamund teased.

  “I am not!” she denied.

  “And I am not the loveliest woman in a room. Ever. But all of that aside, I am just eager to go out and enjoy ourselves,” she said.

  “As am I. And I know that our families are going to be there and all that, but I do think we shall find a bit of freedom regardless. Events like this do not call for any sort of strict chaperone,” Juliet said with excitement.

  It would not be a fancy ball. Dancing in the local hall was something that they both loved, something they enjoyed doing, but it meant very little.

  They felt beautiful, and they felt as though they somehow mattered, as if their lack of station and rank meant nothing, it was enough for them. It was enough just to go out and dance and forget about the troubles of life.

  Rosamund knew that she would have to dance with Mr. Filbert. That part she was not looking forward to. That part, she thought would be perfectly dreadful.

  But it was expected of her and she was going to do her duty no matter what. And as she did so, she would be happy for Juliet who could dance with anyone she wanted. She could go about with any number of men and see who might be willing to court her.

  Of course, she clearly still had feelings for Theodore and would want only to dance with him. But he would not be at the dance and that meant Juliet would have to take time to consider other gentlemen.

  As she and Theodore had made no commitments to one another, Rosamund had encouraged her to take time to see what she truly wanted.

  “Are you looking forward to seeing who asks you for a dance?” she asked Juliet.

  “Somewhat. I mean, you know that there is but one man with whom I would like to dance and he shall not be in attendance,” she said, just as Rosamund had expected.

  “I know. I am sorry for that. I ought to have told him about the dance. But he is always so busy and I just did not even think about it. He is a man of great means now and he was never one to come to things like this anyway,” she said.

  “I understand,” Juliet said.

  “Still, I shall certainly ask him next time. I wish that I had this time and I am learning from my regret,” she said, just to ensure that Juliet understood she meant it.

  “Thank you for that. Anyway, I know that it may be a good thing. After all, if Mr. Connelly does not care for me, I must still be aware of which gentlemen are out there and who is available,” she said, very reasonably, although her heart was not in it.

  “That is wise,” Rosamund said.

  Just then, her aunt burst into the room and implored them to hurry. It was nearly time to leave.