Rose’s gaze flickered away, a veil of sadness descending over her features as she nodded slowly. “Yes,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”
He waited for a moment or two, wanting to see if she would open up to him. He didn’t want to urge her, to push her or force her in any way.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said tenderly.
She bestowed a sad smile upon him, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “It is no secret,” she revealed. “And it’s been so long, you’d think it would hurt less.”
“But it doesn’t.” They said the same words at the same time.
She swallowed heavily as she spoke. “My parents,” she said. “They both died in an accident that left me with a scar on my back.”
He frowned. “I didn’t notice any scar on your back.”
As soon as he said those words, he realized what he had done. His eyes widened in shock of shame and embarrassment, as he took a step backward, feeling exactly the villain from the villagers’ stories of him.
“Rose, I… I’m sorry,” he said, stumbling over his own words. “I didn’t see anything at all, I swear. I wanted to knock, and thedoor was ajar, and I just took a quick glance, but I didn’t see anything, I… honestly, I…”
“My scar is further down my back, Your Grace,” she said blushing, clearly embarrassed at what she had just found out. “You wouldn’t have been able to see it.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant. I didn’t see anything,” he said, mumbling again.
Now even more than before, he couldn’t shake the awareness of Rose’s current state of undress. He endeavored to avert his gaze, to maintain a sense of propriety, but the allure of her presence was undeniable. Every fiber of his being urged him to look away, to respect her privacy and maintain boundaries. Yet, despite his best efforts, his eyes betrayed him, stealing furtive glances at the delicate curves of her form.
He could sense her gaze upon him, as if she could notice his struggle to maintain composure in the face of such temptation. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the unspoken desires that had awakened inside of him. He knew that if he lingered there a moment longer, he might do something he would regret.
“Well, I do believe it is rather late,” he mumbled through a rush of embarrassment, overcome by a need to collect himself. “Good night, Rose,” he said, before turning to leave.
“Good night, Your Grace,” he heard Rose’s soft voice calling out after him.
He didn’t turn around. He didn’t dare. He darted toward his bedchamber, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. The sensation he had been trying to escape was not left in front of the door; it was lodged deep inside of him. Breathing heavily as if he had been running a race, he changed his clothes hastily and slid into his bed, closing his eyes shut, knowing sleep would not grace him with its soothing presence.
And, he was right.
Chapter 6
Rose knew that leaving early in the morning without even speaking to the duke was rude. But she dared not face him after what had happened the previous night. He came to check on her, accidentally catching a glimpse of her undressing. But that wasn’t the worse thing. What shocked her was the fact that his presence affected her in a way she should not have been affected. She was titillated by his presence, aroused by his manly scent and his unfathomable eyes.
“…fortunately, not that bad,” her aunt’s voice brought her back to the present moment.
Rose focused on the cozy sitting room of her home, her aunt bustling about, fussing over her with gentle hands as she checked the wound on the side of her head. Her brother Henry was seated opposite them, silent but absorbing every single word that was being exchanged between the two women.
“But I still don’t see how this could have happened,” her aunt said, resting her hands on her hips as she stared at Rose.
“I fell,” Rose said, shrugging.
“Well, obviously,” her aunt frowned. “You know that isn’t what I’m asking you. Imagine Henry and me, just sitting here, whena footman comes with word of your injury, that you are being taken care of for the night and expected to return tomorrow. When I asked him to tell me where you are and more importantly, with whom, he said that he was in no disposition to share that. He had only been instructed to tell us that you were all right and nothing else. Why, I have not slept one wink, Rose. I do believe that I deserve an explanation as to what happened last night.”
“Of course you do, Aunt,” Rose sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a lot to take in these past several hours.”
“Did you stay with that man who brought you back?” her aunt inquired.
“Mr. Hancock? No,” Rose shook her head, then she tried to clarify. “Well, technically, no. And yes.”
Her aunt raised an eyebrow. “How is that possible?”
“Well, he uhm… he is the steward of the man in whose home I spent the night, because of my injury,” Rose tried to explain but she knew that her aunt wouldn’t like the truth. “Mr. Hancock insisted on escorting me back, because he didn’t want me to become disoriented somewhere along the way.”
That was actually only one part of the truth. Mr. Hancock probably didn’t want to have anything happen to her on the way back, but not because he cared about her. On the contrary,it was because he cared about the duke, and he didn’t want to have everyone blame the duke for what had happened or what could have happened. In addition to this, Rose had witnessed his obvious dislike for the townsfolk and how they spoke of the duke. Although she herself had not said a single word against the duke, Mr. Hancock was looking at her with obvious suspicion as well, eager to leave her where he was supposed to and then return to his home.
