Rose’s mother and brothers looked at one another in stunned, uncomprehending silence. The duke, meanwhile, turned his dark, knowing gaze to Rose before adding a further astonishing declaration that left no ambiguity over his intentions.
“So, if your family agree, Your Grace, Rose and I must marry.”
Eugenia gasped and Magnus uttered an oath while Edwin blurted out something about needing to discuss this sudden proposal. Rose felt as light-headed and dizzy as in a dream – or a nightmare.
“There is surely nothing to discuss,” the Duke of Ravenhill said evenly in response to Edwin’s words. “I have already sent word to the Bishop of London’s office and will obtain a special license as soon as you all agree. My agents have been tasked with containing the rumors in the press, and a wedding will render the worst of the gossip redundant in any case.”
“I can’t,” Rose squeaked, clutching the back of the sofa for support in case her legs gave way, beyond overwhelmed by this latest unanticipated development. “I can’t…”
Her voice failed her, or more accurately, her mind failed to find the right words. What was she trying to say? Rose knew that she must marry this man now, whether she wished it or not. But everything was happening so fast and she felt so lost and scared.
“Pull yourself together, Rose,” said Edwin rather severely. “This is no time for nonsense. The honor of our whole family is at stake.”
“I know, it’s only that I, I…”
Failing once more, and hearing sounds of impatience from both of her brothers, Rose shook her head miserably.
“Lady Rose,” broke in the Duke of Ravenhill’s deep voice, his intense black eyes locking on hers when she turned to the sound of her name. “I believe you and I must speak privately before you give your family any answer.”
Rose nodded, this surprisingly feeling like an easier option than expressing herself to the whole present assembly. The duke did not ask her family’s permission for a private address but no one objected, even Edwin.
“I will go upstairs and make sure your father is comfortable, Rose,” announced the Duchess of Westvale, although her words were intended for both Rose and their visitor. “Your brothers will remain in the hallway for five minutes while you talk to the duke.”
Once the door closed on them, Rose took a deep breath to steel herself for a bewildering conversation. How could she marry a man so very different from her ideal, a man she could never love? Wasn’t it a betrayal of her own soul? And yet, for love of her family, she surely must.
The air seemed to hum with tension in those first moments of silence as Rose waited for the duke to break it. Was he waiting for her to speak first? She supposed she ought to sit down again and invite him to do the same, but she did not yet trust her legs enough to release her hold on the sofa.
Dorian Voss walked over and stood in front of her, his size imposing and his face still grave, although not unkind. He was almost as close to her now as he had been last night when they stood together in the torchlight.
“You have a choice today, Lady Rose. You can become my wife and I will do my duty in protecting you from the backlash of the mess we stumbled into last night. Or, you can face your family and society’s wrath alone, if you prefer.”
These options were stated bluntly and honestly but not cruelly. Nor was there any judgment in his tone, which was a relief after the barrage of opprobrium from all her relatives. At the same time, his expression was grim and very far from what a young woman might have wished to see on the face of a would-be-suitor.
“I understand, and I thank you for that choice,” Rose said, knowing that her own tone and attitude were also very different today, all of last night’s anger and defiance evaporated. “I did not expect your offer.”
The Duke of Ravenhill made a sound that would have been a laugh if there had been any humor in his face but there was no trace of that today either.
“Nor did your family, it seems. However, none of you know me. I live my life on my own terms and I have my own honor and my own rules, some of which I do not break.”
Rose nodded, studying his face and seeing the strain in his jaw. The duke was telling her that he did not want this marriage any more than Rose herself. However, his own peculiar code of honor, whatever it was, had forced him to come here and offer his hand, despite his personal reluctance. It was a gesture that earned her respect, but underlined the impending sacrifice of love.
“If I do not marry you, it would destroy my family,” Rose reflected, trembling at the thought.
Dorian shook his head decisively at this, a lock of black hair tumbling across his forehead.
“It would destroyyou, Lady Rose. It is that I cannot have on my conscience, not your brother’s injured pride or society’s false moral judgements.”
Had he moved closer, or had she? Rose did not know but she distinctly felt his long, frustrated exhale of breath on her skin. She looked at the tall, dark-eyed man with desperate, frightened eyes, wondering whether the hand he was offering might truly be a rescue or only a new danger.
“You need not be afraid of marrying me, Lady Rose,” the duke said, repeating that unnerving trick he had exercised theprevious evening of seeming to pick words or feelings straight out of her thoughts. “You need not be frightened of me at all.”
“I am not frightened of you,” she gasped. “I am only…frightened.”
The Duke of Ravenhill nodded, seeming to understand easily what she meant and making no attempt to press her harder to explain herself as Edwin would have done. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black and gazing into them felt something like falling. They reminded her of deep, dangerous pools she and Magnus were warned never to swim in as children.
Yet the duke’s unwavering eyes were still so inviting and the air between them seemed to have grown thick with strange possibilities. For a moment, Rose wondered whether Dorian Voss was going to kiss her, if his lips would feel as they had done last night, and how she ought to receive such an embrace under these odd circumstances.
Then as if recollecting something, the duke straightened himself, broke their gaze and took a step backwards.
