Janice Preston - Cinderella And The Duke

‘We will meet again, Rosalind, before I leave Halsdon. On that you may depend.’

He strolled across the kitchen, taking his hat from the table as he passed. As he neared Rosalind, her breath quickened under the magnetic pull of those extraordinary, omniscient eyes. Might he try to kiss her? Touch her? He did neither. And she was left shaken and bereft as he strode from her sight.

She used her pent-up energy to tidy the kitchen, before taking Freddie his newspaper—ordered daily from London—and the letter she had collected from the village.

‘There was a letter from Jack,’ she said, on entering the room. ‘I could not tell you whilst Mr Boyton was here. Jack writes that Sir Peter visited the school and quizzed him as to Nell’s whereabouts.’

Freddie held out his hand. ‘May I read it for myself?’

‘Of course you may.’ Rosalind handed him the letter. ‘It is addressed to us both. He suggested to Sir Peter that you had expressed a desire to visit Brighton and that he might enquire for us there.’

She laughed, trying to catch Freddie’s attention, but he appeared disinclined to share the joke, managing only the slightest smile in response. Mentally, she shrugged away Freddie’s bad mood. He appeared edgier by the day. Being forced out of Lydney must be affecting him more than she realised.

‘Jack thinks it a fine jape to hoodwink Sir Peter like that, but I pray it will not rebound upon him. Sir Peter is, like it or not, his guardian. He could, if he chooses, impose sanctions or punishments. I worry—’

‘You worry too much.’ Freddie’s vehemence cut short Rosalind’s words.

‘Well, yes...but that is, surely, understandable, Freddie. I worry about you all.’

Freddie did not reply, but the mutinous set of his mouth did not imply agreement.

‘What is wrong, Freddie? I hate to see you so out of sorts. Do you miss home?’

‘Of course I do. Don’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but I make the best—’

‘Do not—’ Freddie levered himself to his feet ‘—tell me to make the best of this...this half-existence.’

‘But...Freddie...we agreed...’ Rosalind trailed into silence at Freddie’s scathing expression.

‘Since we arrived here two and a half weeks ago, I have been stuck in this blasted house and seen no one other than you, Nell and Penny until today. I have been nowhere and now, with the carriage in London, I cannot go anywhere even if my appearance wasn’t likely to set people talking and risk bringing Sir Peter post-haste to our door. Can you not realise how that makes me feel?

‘And, for all my sacrifices, it seems as soon as you make the acquaintance of some random gentleman, all your strictures about me lying low are forgotten and you bring him home. That is quite apart from your attracting the dubious attention of our new neighbour, Lascelles.’

‘That was not my fault, Freddie. And, as for Mr Boyton, mayhap you are right to feel aggrieved that I brought him home, but I simply wished to show my gratitude for a favour. Nell is no longer here to be recognised, after all. Sir Peter cannot harm us, Freddie, even if he does discover our whereabouts. The danger is past.’

‘You know that her reputation could still suffer if it became known we had removed her from her guardian’s care and brought her here, with only us to chaperon her.’ Freddie limped to the door as he spoke. ‘You said yourself that nothing must be allowed to taint her if she is to make the marriage she deserves. Why can you never admit to your mistakes? You like to think yourself infallible, Ros, but you are not.’

Knowing he was right made it hard for Rosalind to be angry with him, but still she was loath to admit herself in the wrong.

‘There is no reason for Mr Boyton to make the connection between us and Lady Helena Caldicot, even if they do meet in London,’ she said. ‘She knows not to speak of us or to mention running away from Sir Peter. And he will not make a fuss. It can be of no advantage to him to harm Nell’s reputation.’

‘Let us hope that you are correct, Sister.’

Freddie left the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

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