Forgotten & Remembered - The Duke's Late Wife

  Taking her cousin by the arm, Rosabel led her over to one of the chaises standing by the back windows. After a short and slightly cold greeting from her aunt and uncle, the two friends had retreated to the back parlour while Georgiana had joined Rosabel’s younger cousins in the gardens. Beatrice, Lydia and Stephen had taken to Georgiana instantly, leading her about the house as tour guides and explaining in excruciating detail how to play hide-and-go-seek. Smiling, Rosabel had watched them depart, hoping the company of peers would do Georgiana some good, considering how isolated she often was at Westmore.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” Rosabel sighed, trying to collect her thoughts. So much had happened in the past few months, most of which she still could not make sense of. After a short while, she turned to her cousin, eyes unguarded, knowing she was in the company of a confidant. “You know me,” she began. “I am not a fighter. I do as I am told.”

  Ellie nodded. “I’ve never heard you say no. To anyone.” She reached over and squeezed her cousin’s hand. “So, what happened? Does your husband know you’re here?” Suddenly her mouth fell open, and she clasped a hand over it. “Did you run away? With his daughter? How−?”

  Rosabel placed a hand on her cousin’s knee to stop her. “No, of course not. Do not be ridiculous! I would never be so reckless. No.” Again she took a deep breath. “But you’re right, my husband didn’t want me to come back here. He was not pleased.” A small triumphant smile danced on her lips that she didn’t quite manage to hide.

  “Oh my God, but why?”

  Glancing out the window at the children playing in the gardens, their laughter echoing in the distance, Rosabel said, “Georgiana. She…I…” For a moment she didn’t know how to put into words what she felt in her heart. Lifting her gaze, she turned back to her cousin, who looked at her with wondrous eyes. “She is my daughter, now, in every way, and I came here; I defied by husband’s wishes to see her happy.” Again her eyes travelled to the little girl with the golden curls, her laughter bubbling over like a small creek in early spring.

  Ellie smiled. “You really love her, don’t you? Your eyes shine when you speak of her.”

  Nodding, Rosabel said, “I don’t know how it happened. Maybe we were both just so alone, without anyone to care for us, that we turned to each other. But it doesn’t matter. I am her mother now, and I will do whatever I need to to see her happy. Even if the one standing against me is my husband.”

  “Okay,” Ellie began, scooting closer on the chaise. “You have to explain this. Why does he not want her to be happy? He is her father. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Rosabel shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure he wants her to be happy, and he believes that the way things are she is happy, or at least well taken care of. I’m not sure if he can even think in terms of happiness at the moment. He does not see how alone she is and how sad.” Remembering her husband’s cold eyes, Rosabel shivered. But then the memory of him embracing Georgiana only this morning returned and gave her hope. “He loves her; I am sure of that. But for some reason, he feels like he cannot be around her. Georgiana, of course, misses him and wishes for nothing else but to be near him.”

  “Understandably,” Ellie murmured, forehead creased, listening intently. “Did he really plan on not seeing her ever? Him at Camden Hall; her at Westmore?”

  Rosabel shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what his plans are. All I know is that they are not good for Georgiana. And that’s why I’m here.”

  “Did you ask him?” Ellie wondered. “About why he married you? And…well, everything?”

  “Let’s say, I asked as much as I dared.” Remembering how uneasy he had made her feel in the beginning, Rosabel realized that she had come a long way. She still disliked his cold eyes, but they did not shake her to her very core anymore. “He married me to be a mother to his daughter. I suppose he thought this way he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about leaving her with no parent at all.”

  “What about his first wife?” Ellie asked. “Do you know anything about her? How did she die? And when?”

  “About a year ago. It was a riding accident.” The diaries and letters had granted Rosabel a deep insight into Leonora’s life, but she wasn’t sure how much of it to share with her cousin. Revealing she had read them felt like admitting a crime. “I…I” She took a deep breath, lifted her eyes and found her cousin’s. “I found her diaries…and some letters the duke wrote to her.” Here she stopped, hoping her cousin would not condemn her.

  For a second Ellie didn’t blink. “Did you read them?”

  Holding her breath, Rosabel nodded.

  Instantly, Ellie’s face broke into a smile. “Oh good, I feared you’d have thought that inappropriate.”

  Relief washing over her, Rosabel smiled. “I did find it inappropriate. I battled with myself for days, believe me.”

  “But you read them?”

  “Most of them, yes. I haven’t gotten to all of them yet.”

  “So? What do they say?” Ellie inched closer, leaning forward to listen.

  Again Rosabel took a deep breath, hoping Leonora would understand. Without going into detail, she laid down how Leonora and Graham had been in love, how something had happened−Rosabel suspected a premarital pregnancy−and then how it had all gone horribly wrong. She tried her best to explain the contradicting information she had taken from the letters and diary entries, and although disappointed, couldn’t help but feel a little relieved when Ellie could not connect those satisfactorily either. There was still something missing. Something without which they would not be able to see the whole picture. Why did Leonora look at Graham with love one second and the next consider him her doom?

  “So? What are you going to do?” Ellie asked after Rosabel had relayed the situation as best as she could.

  “I am hoping for Georgiana to have her father back in her life. I want to see her happy. That’s what’s most important.”

  Ellie smiled. “You really see her as your daughter, don’t you?”

  Again Rosabel’s gaze was drawn to the window. Stumbling through the last bits of snow, the kids were chasing each other, tripping and falling. Their faces, however, shone with laughter, eyes dancing. Georgiana’s cheeks were even rosier than usual as she threw the remnants of a snowball at Stephen. Her blue eyes sparkled like the sun reflected on an icy lake.

  Rosabel had trouble tearing her gaze away, but when she looked at her cousin, she saw the joy over her unexpected happiness in her eyes. “I do. She is my daughter in every way.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” Ellie said, again squeezing Rosabel’s hand. “But what about your husband?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ellie shrugged, but Rosabel felt her cousin’s eyes lingering on her face. “You only ever mention him as Georgiana’s father, but he is also your husband.” She sat up as a thought seemed to strike her. “What about children of your own? You are not with child yet, are you?” Avoiding her cousin’s eyes, Rosabel shook her head. “But you might be soon. Sooner than you think.” Ellie smiled, again taking Rosabel’s hands. “Haven’t you always wanted to be a mother?”

  “Yes, and I am,” Rosabel said, hoping to steer the conversation away from the fact that her husband had yet to visit her chamber. “I do not need any other children.”

  Ellie frowned. “But what about your husband? Does he not wish for an heir? After all, Georgiana cannot inherit his title.”

  Remembering asking herself those very questions, Rosabel shrugged. “I couldn’t say. He does not speak to me much, not unless he has to.”

  A devilish grin curled up Ellie’s face. “Yes, but that is about to change. After all, isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “I’m here for Georgiana.”

  “Oh, please,” Ellie chided shaking her head. “Do not tell me that you wish to continue this distant relationship with your husband! You must wish for the two of you to grow closer!” Again she squeezed Rosabel’s hand. “Maybe a ba
by would help.”

  Still not looking at her cousin, Rosabel mumbled. “Maybe.” Did she want a closer relationship with her husband? It couldn’t possibly grow any more distant. Rosabel didn’t know though.

  Her thoughts up to this point had been focused on Georgiana. Living at Westmore away from her husband, Rosabel had even been happy, almost able to ignore the fact that she was married. After all, she hardly knew the man she was married to. How could she miss him? She hadn’t. And yet, their time together in London had brought on a change. Rosabel had to admit that his presence was more than welcome to her. In fact, she had begun to rely on it for her own happiness.

  Shaking off these thoughts, Rosabel returned her attention to her cousin. She would take one step at a time. Right now, all that mattered was Georgiana.

 

  Chapter Twenty-Four − A Kiss Owed

  The following weeks after their arrival at Camden Hall passed in fairly the same fashion as their first day. While Georgiana was delighted to simply be in the same house as her father, her eyes beamed whenever she caught but a glimpse of him. Rosabel’s husband seemed to be avoiding them, particularly his daughter, as much as he could. However, at the same time, whenever Georgiana managed to get a hold of him, his cold demeanour seemed to evaporate. Rosabel watched in amazement. When the little girl’s arms came around her father’s neck or her glowing eyes looked into his or her bubbling laughter reached his ears, the bitter mask he wore vanished, replaced by a smile that said more than words ever could.

  These moments were dearest to Rosabel because they gave her hope. Hope that her husband would not send them away again, that he would finally accept and even welcome their presence in this house. Only to herself, Rosabel admitted that she was rather surprised that he hadn’t demanded their departure yet. Was he torn? Did a part of him wish them gone, while another desired them to stay? Whenever she saw his eyes come to life when Georgiana was near, Rosabel was sure of it.

  Over supper one night, Georgiana related her adventures with the horses that day. She talked and talked while her parents listened, giving her all the attention she had craved for so long. In this relaxed atmosphere, Rosabel saw honest smiles on all their faces and her own frown lines, deep from worry, vanished, her shoulders relaxed and her stomach jumped little hoops as the delight of their conversation filled her with happiness. Step by step, Rosabel fought her way forward, battle by battle. Victory seemed to be within her reach.

  Their joy seemed to be infectious. The whole house was soon caught up in it. More than usual did smiles decorate the staff’s faces; more often than not, they even reached their eyes as they gazed upon the little angel that had transformed their master’s life.

  Still, Rosabel could not ignore, although she tried, the sadness and exhaustion that often dominated her husband’s face. Whenever Georgiana left his presence, Rosabel occasionally witnessed small meltdowns. His shoulders would slump, he would bury his face in his hands or he would just turn and stare out the window for hours, not speaking to anyone, until the little girl returned and once again his face would light up. She was like the sun to him, absolutely necessary for him to flourish, and without her, he would wilt and die.

  In the beginning her husband merely tried to extract himself from situations that made him uncomfortable, but the more time wore on, the more his attempts seemed to be premeditated. He would leave the house early, spending hours riding about the countryside. He even took up hunting, which surprised Rosabel even more when Hanson informed her that her husband had never shown the slightest interest in it before. He was actively avoiding them or rather avoiding Georgiana. The only time he spent at home was when the girl would sit with Rosabel and tend to her lessons. Seeing his actions as deliberate, Rosabel soon allowed Georgiana free time whenever her father was near, and they took up their lessons whenever he would leave. Still she believed that throwing them together, not giving him the opportunity to evade his daughter altogether, was the best course of action.

  Georgiana brought him cookies to his study, showed him her paintings, a book that had become her new favourite or a new dress she had sown herself for her mother’s doll. Never would he tell her to leave. Never did he use harsh words with her. Never did he reject her affections. But he would still try to distract her into leaving or persuade her that he had work to do. Rosabel long since suspected that all these excuses were merely that, excuses. Her husband had always struck her as someone in control of his life. Everything was structured, planned and carried out accordingly. Few things ever surprised him, and so he usually had significant time at his disposal to spend in leisure.

  But Georgiana did not know these things. Considering her father’s attention a gift from above, she doted on him, never fussing, never arguing, always considerate of his needs. If he suggested he had work, she would leave him to it, only returning to make sure he had his tea and a plate of cookies. Then later at supper she would inquire after his dealings and express her hope that all had gone well.

  Often Rosabel was surprised how grown-up Georgiana seemed. Having spent most of her life with adults and left to her own thoughts, she possessed a maturity that few her age did.

  One night after Georgiana had gone to bed, Rosabel returned from the library, a book in hand, and went up the stairs to her own room. Walking down the corridor, she turned a corner and stopped.

  Just ahead of her stood her husband. His collar stood open and his sleeves were rolled up. He raked a hand through his hair, and his eyes widened as he spotted her looking at him. For a second Rosabel thought he would turn and walk away, but then he swallowed. Having made a decision, he approached her.

  Feeling her own hands tremble, Rosabel gripped her book tighter as he came to stand before her, his eyes looking down into hers. He didn’t seem happy or sad, but merely exhausted, as though the last few weeks had depleted all his energy.

  When the silence between them stretched on, Rosabel all but whispered, “Can I help you, my lord?” As close as they stood, she knew he had heard her.

  At first he didn’t answer her, but drew in a deep breath, his eyes trailing from hers down to her lips, touched her shoulders and travelled farther down. Feeling herself tremble under the scrutiny of his gaze, Rosabel was relieved when his eyes found hers once again.

  As though fighting for every bit of oxygen to sustain himself, he drew in another breath, then abruptly stepped forward, his hands grasping her by the arms.

  Rosabel gasped, feeling the heat of his touch through the fabric of her dress. “My lord?”

  Once again his eyes held hers captive. “Why are you doing this?” His voice was hoarse as though speaking took too much out of him. “Why?” His jaw clenched and his hands tightened. “Why?” he almost snarled.

  Confused, Rosabel swallowed. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him this angry, enraged even. Had he been drinking? She couldn’t smell anything on his breath as it brushed over her skin. As his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, Rosabel began to squirm. “Let go, please. You’re hurting me!”

  As though transfixed, he just stared at her. Then instead of complying with her request, he pushed her against the wall.

  Again Rosabel gasped, more in shock than pain. His nose almost touched hers as he pressed out through gritted teeth, “Why did you bring her here? Are you trying to destroy me?”

  Realization dawned, but for the life of her, Rosabel could not understand how Georgiana’s presence could have possibly caused his current state. What was he hiding? “Your daughter loves you−”

  The words had barely left her lips when a menacing snarl rose from his throat.

  Flinching slightly, Rosabel refused to be intimidated. Squaring her shoulders as best as she could with his hands still locked around her arms, she raised her chin and her lips slightly brushed over his, sending a pleasant tingle down her spine.

  Her husband, too, seemed startled, but before he could speak, Rosabel said, “And I know you love her too.” Another snarl echoed
between them, but Rosabel chose to ignore it. “Why would you push her away?”

  Lips pressed together, he stared at her. “Do not speak of things that do not concern you, my lady.”

  Hearing the insult in his words, Rosabel recognized it for what it was, a desperate attempt to silence her on the matter. She knew she had hit a nerve; she could see it hurt him, and yet, she knew she had to continue. “They do concern me. She is my daughter.”

  “Your daughter?” he echoed her words as his eyes searched her face. “But she is not.”

  Not shaken in her resolve, Rosabel’s lips curled upward into a smile that touched her eyes as they looked into his. “She is. You told me I was to be her mother. Now I am, and that will never change.”

  The blue in his eyes seemed to grow darker, only not with anger but with emotion. For a second, Rosabel thought she saw the beginnings of a tear form in the corner of his eyes before he blinked, and the moment was gone. Again, he inhaled deeply and took a step back, his hands loosening, but not letting go. “Tell her to stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  For a second, he stared at her as though choosing his words, “If she does not keep her distance, I…”

  Holding his gaze, Rosabel asked, “What will you do, my lord? Because there is nothing in this world that could keep her from you. You were too good a father to her!”

  As though slapped, he suddenly released her, stepping back. His face held more than just pain, and for a second, Rosabel saw how wounded he was. What had given him that wound? She wondered before a mask of bitterness once again hid his true self from her.

  Unwilling to let the moment just slip away, Rosabel stepped forward and carefully put her hand on his cheek. He flinched, and his eyes grew big, but he didn’t pull away.

  Rosabel felt a slight stubble under her hand, and the muscles twitch as though he was holding on by a thread. “She gave you her heart a long time ago, and it is yours now to keep safe from harm.” This time Rosabel clearly saw the tear that sprang from the corner of his eyes and then slowly made its way down his cheek until it touched her fingers. “Trust her with yours. She will not disappoint you.”