“No,” Rosalinde whispered.
“How when you came, I had best control you so you wouldn’t ruin this engagement. That and how I better not let any romantic notions of a happy and loving marriage keep me from doing as I’d promised. He holdsmeresponsible for both our behavior and now you dothis. Do you know what he’ll do if he finds out?”
“He won’t find out.”
“Why? Because you fully trust this man who would destroy all my hopes with a wave of his hand if he could?” Celia asked, her tone flat and sarcastic.
Rosalinde flinched. She deserved her sister’s censure, but it cut her nonetheless.
“What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”
Celia stared at her, her face filled with disappointment and betrayal, but also love. Her sister still loved her, and Rosalinde clung to that.
“You said this man can be reasonable,” Celia whispered. “I’ve seen no evidence of that.”
Rosalinde thought of him. There were times when he could be so tender. Times when she could believe…
Well, she didn’t know what to believe.
“I think he could be.”
Celia didn’t look convinced, but she said, “Then perhaps that can be used to help us. I don’t want my future husband’s brother to despise me, to poison his family against me. See if you can talk to him, see if you can convince him that I am not so bad as he wants to believe. Perhaps you can even convince him to discuss his problems with me directly.”
Rosalinde nodded. “I can try, but…but that might mean I have to trust the man a little more. Give a little more.”
Celia stiffened, her aversion to that plan clear on her face. But she finally jerked her head up and down. “All right. If you believe that is best, I’ll agree to it.”
Rosalinde reached for her again, and this time Celia allowed her touch. She squeezed her sister’s fingers as she said, “I let you down. I know I did. But I vow to you, Celia, I will be sure never to do it again.”
Celia held her stare, but it was clear she didn’t fully believe Rosalinde. And that hurt the most. Her sister thought she was willing to sacrifice her for her own pleasure.
And Rosalinde was going to have to be certain she never did that again.
Chapter Twelve
Gray entered the parlor, intent on grabbing a few cakes leftover from tea and then heading to his chamber to prepare for the night. But as he moved to the sideboard, someone cleared their throat from the corner of the room.
He turned to find Rosalinde and Celia’s grandfather, Mr. Fitzgilbert, sitting in a chair, the paper he’d been reading now draped over his lap.
Gray stiffened. He liked this man even less than he liked Celia. And yet his conversation earlier with Rosalinde in the stable, when she’d said she and her sister were women under the rule of men…well, it rang in his ears.
This was an opportunity to find out more not only about Celia, but also about Rosalinde. To understand what she meant when she whispered those bitter, painful words.
“Good afternoon,” he said, bringing his plate to the chair opposite Fitzgilbert. “I seem to have missed tea with the others, but would you mind if I joined you?”
Fitzgilbert shrugged one shoulder as he folded his paper and set it aside. “Of course not. I admit I have been very interested in speaking to you, Mr. Danford.”
Gray met the older man’s stare evenly. “Have you now?”
“Indeed, I hear so many interesting stories about you from both gossip and your own family. I wonder if they can all be true.” Fitzgilbert smiled, but there was little realness to it. He was pandering.
“I am eager to hear what tales are being told,” Gray drawled.
Fitzgilbert crossed his legs. “They say that though you were raised a gentleman, you have become a man of business.”
“I have.”
He waited for the other man’s reaction. There were only two responses most in their sphere displayed when hearing Gray had decided not to sit on his ass and watch his inheritance dwindle to nothing, all while he pretended to still be rich.
