Page 86 of An Unfamiliar Duke

Rosalind felt color creep up her neck, but she ignored it. He had been completely unaware of her brief visit to his rooms, she was sure of it. “I am glad to hear it.”

He offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”

She placed her hand on his arm, and they started down the passage. Awareness hummed between them, and Rosalind knew she would be fully undone before they’d even exited the house if she did not do something—or say something—to distract from it.

“Have you spoken to Vickers this afternoon? Did the courier come?”

“He did. Vickers passed off the satchel at ten o’clock this morning. I imagine the courier is well on his way to Scotland by now.”

“I feel the burden lifted,” she said. “I can scarcely imagine how you must feel at such news.”

He smiled. “Relieved that such vital documents are no longer under my watch care and grateful that, between the two of us, we were able to help Meikle move forward.”

To argue that she played no real role in reworking the calculations would be futile, so she did not try. Instead, she smiled and tucked her arm more securely around Sebastian’s as they descended the stairs together. Vickers was in the entrance hall. He nodded politely as they approached and opened the front doors for them. Sebastian donned the hat he held in his other hand, and they stepped out onto the portico.

The wind tugged at Rosalind’s skirts, and she laughed. “We are in for another blowy walk, I think.”

“Such is late October,” he said. “But I am glad that the rain has stopped, because there is somewhere I wish to take you.”

Intrigued, Rosalind allowed him to guide her down the stairs and along the gravel path that led around to the back of the house. They passed the stables, and it was impossible not to think of all that had happened during the night.

“Have you heard anything from Dawson or Mr. Grayson?” she asked.

Sebastian nodded. “I spoke briefly with Grayson half an hour ago. He came to Finley Park after meeting with the magistrate this morning. Dawson delivered Mr. Sellers safely to Camden Hall. The Fairfields are understandably distraught over the situation, but Mr. Fairfield has agreed to offer whatever assistance he can to liquidate Mr. Sellers’s few assets—primarily his rundown family estate—in an attempt to set things right with his creditors. The magistrate will issue formal charges of armed robbery and kidnapping before the end of the day.”

Rosalind processed that information as they walked. “It’s hard to believe that the thief who treated me so cruelly last night is the very same gentleman who was so gracious at social functions all Season.”

“The kind of desperation that is brought on by poor choices can warp a man’s thinking,” Sebastian said. “When he realized he had lost his chance at the Langton money, Sellers found himself in an untenable situation: he could allow his clamoring creditors to expose him for the high-stakes gambler and bounder that he is, or he could try one more risky venture that could recoup the money he needed and keep his reputation untarnished.

“I daresay he had planned on breaking into my workshop and leaving with Meikle’s plans without anyone the wiser. It would have taken significant detective work to pin the crime on him, particularly if he had been in London by morning.”

“Your presence in the workshop must have been a bitter blow,” she said.

“As was your arrival.” He glanced at her. “I have not yet thanked you for coming to warn me. Or for retrieving my gun.”

“Neither was quite timely enough.”

“Both showed immense foresight and courage.”

They had reached the grove of trees, and Rosalind turned to face him. “I am fully aware that there were times last night when I was in grave danger, but I am only now coming to understand how much worse things might have been for me.

“If you and I had not been promised to each other, Mr. Sellers may have been successful in persuading me to marry him.” She looked away. After so many years of feeling betrayed by her father, she was starting to see that he had truly acted to protect her. “I would have discovered his subterfuge at some point, but by then, it would have been too late, and there would have been no escape.”

She shuddered, and Sebastian drew her into the protection of the trees. “We have a great deal to be thankful for.” He met her eyes. “I spent too many years resenting my father’s interference in my future instead of opening my eyes to the gift he had offered me.”

“As did I,” Rosalind said.

Sebastian’s smile was fleeting. “When you first visited Finley Park, I was an awkward fourteen-year-old boy who had been taught how to behave like a gentleman but had not yet made those habits my own.” He sighed. “I was rude to you, Rosalind. Abominably rude. I cringe at the memory of what I said to you all those years ago.”

She looked down. “I was hurt. I confess, now that I know you better and realize how unused to having your home overrun by others you were—especially a talkative female—I better understand your reaction.”

“That is no excuse for such poor behavior, and I am truly sorry.” He placed his finger under her chin and gently raised her head until she was forced to look at him. “Can you forgive me?”

The Duke of Kelbrook was a gentleman who could rightly claim that his position allowed him to behave however he wished. And yet, he was asking for her forgiveness. She searched her heart for the ache the memory of that day on Finley Park’s grounds always produced, but it was gone. “I think perhaps I already have,” she said.

With emotion-filled eyes, he took her hand and guided her silently through the trees until they reached a large oak where a wooden ladder stood propped against the trunk. She studied it curiously, counting the rungs until they ended at a square wooden structure in the branches above.

“It’s the tree house,” she said. It was smaller than she remembered. The wooden planks were weathered gray. A rope ladder hung from the narrow opening above, swinging slightly in the breeze. She turned to Sebastian. “Is this what you wished to show me?”