“I don’t want ridiculous romantic entanglements,” Lucien insisted with another heavy sigh. He finally looked at Gray. “You are the younger brother, Gray, not the eldest. You needn’t play nursemaid to me. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. This subject is closed.”
Gray opened his mouth to argue, but his brother shook his head. “It isclosed, Grayson. I mean it. Now go find something else to do and allow me to finish my business.”
Gray let out his breath in a frustrated sigh as he turned on his heel and left him alone. He had no choice at the moment but to do as Lucien asked, for his brother was not in any mood to hear the truth. But whatever Lucien said, the subject was not closed to Gray.
Rosalinde paced the parlor, frustration growing in her every time she turned and took another lap around the room. That she could still be so angry almost two hours after her encounter with Grayson only proved what a hateful man he was. He and his accusations and his full lips could hang for all she cared.
She fisted her hands at her sides with an angry growl just before she made the next turn in her endless pacing. And as she did so, she found her grandfather standing in the doorway to the chamber, watching her through a narrowed gaze.
She stopped, forcing her hands to unfist, trying to calm her expression and her racing heart. “Gr-grandfather,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”
He stepped into the room. “Clearly, as you were hurtling yourself around the room like an angry harridan.”
Rosalinde took a long breath and readied herself for yet another unpleasant encounter with the man who had raised her. He had aged a great deal in that time, but his attitude remained the same. He was still cold, he was still unyielding, he still held grudges for crimes committed years ago. Hell, he still despised Rosalinde and Celia’s mother, his own daughter, and she had been in the grave for over two decades.
“I am restless, that is all,” Rosalinde lied. “I suppose it comes from being trapped in a carriage for two days.”
“Lying, are you, Rosalinde? I shouldn’t be surprised. You are like your mother. Agatha was a liar, too.”
Rosalinde shut her eyes briefly, swallowing back the defense of the mother she didn’t even remember.
“I’m not lying,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “So you say. But I saw the way you reacted this morning at breakfast. You made a spectacle of yourself by not eating, by acting so strangely in front of Stenfax and his family. Have a care, Rosalinde. You will not like the consequences if you ruin this engagement.”
“I assume I would not,” Rosalinde replied. “I have already suffered your wrath in the past, Grandfather. I have not forgotten its sting. I am in no way trying to hurt Celia or her chances with Stenfax.”
In fact, she was trying tohelpher sister, but she wasn’t going to tell Mr. Fitzgilbert that. If he knew the engagement was being threatened by anyone, his temperament would only become less and less pleasant. He might ruin things, himself, by flying into a temper, though he would blame Rosalinde and Celia quickly enough.
“You’d best not be,” he grunted with a quick nod. “You know I hold all the cards. If you two want to know your father’s identity, Celia must get her title first.”
“Yes,” Rosalinde said, setting her jaw in anger and disgust. “We are both well-aware of the terms of your devil’s bargain. You needn’t repeat them.”
“A devil’s bargain?” her grandfather repeated. “Only if the devil you refer to is my daughter.”
“My mother has nothing to do with you taking us from our father and making us believe he died,” Rosalinde said through clenched teeth. “She hasnothingto do with your blackmailing Celia into marrying a title to satisfy you in exchange for the information you’ve kept from us all these years. She has nothing to do with your cruelty.”
Fitzgilbert waved his hand to dismiss her claim. “If your mother hadn’t seen fit to spread her legs for someone so beneath her and ifyouhadn’t done the same just to thwart me, none of us would be in this position.”
Rosalinde turned away tears stinging her eyes. Leave it to Mr. Fitzgilbert to be so cruel as to throw her desperately unhappy marriage in her face.
“Why do you hate us so much?” she whispered.
“Because you represent such a failure. A failure to produce sons and proper heirs. A failure to produce good women who wouldn’t destroy my name.”
“You could have loved us,” she said without looking at him. “We would have loved you in return if you had tried even a little to care.”
“Love?” he repeated on a laugh. “My dear,loveis weakness and it does nothing to carry on a name or a legacy. And if you feel you have been wronged by my attitude toward you, recall that it is only bymygood graces that you have a place here at all. You would do well to be grateful.”
He said nothing else, but turned on his heel and left her alone in the chamber. Rosalinde moved to the settee, where she sank down, covering her face with her hands. Her entire life she had been trapped by her grandfather’s hate. She’d had Celia to love, of course, to share her pains and triumphs with.
But she’d failed Celia and put her in her current situation. And once Celia was gone? Well, she had no idea if Fitzgilbert would put her on the street. Or even if he would share the information he claimed to have.
“That sounded heated.”
Rosalinde sucked in a gasp and jumped to her feet to face Gray as he came into the room. “Are you in the habit of listening in on private conversations, Mr. Danford?”
He shrugged, and her heart stuttered. God, what had he heard exactly? Certainly he would turn much of that conversation against her if he could. He would use it to condemn Celia and damage her in front of Stenfax.
