Page 21 of Once Upon a Devilish Duke

Except to your daughter, she wanted to say. “If that is what you believe.”

“If that is what I believe?” His eyes were bright with annoyance.

Marianne tugged on her arm and dragged her away. “My God, Rose, are you trying to goad my brother into an argument? At a ball? It is unwise to torment him in such a manner. What are you thinking?”

“I think your brother has a short memory.” She turned back to where they had come from, but the duke was gone. Good, she thought. Someone had to remind him that he may be a duke, but he was not God.

“Is this about Max? Please, Rose, you must not pursue this with him. It is his sin to bear. I am sure he knows this. He does not need reminding. I know you care about Max, but this is not your fight. You are not her mother.”

That stung a little. “I know that, but her mother is dead. Who fights for her now?” Her own mother had died young, but she’d had her father to champion her. Max did not.

“We do. Her family. If it were as simple as bringing it to his attention, we would do so daily, but it is not. We depend on him, for where we live, what we eat, and what we wear. You have the luxury of independence that we do not.”

Rose had not thought of that. She had let her emotions rule her judgment, and she had been wrong to do so. “You are right. I’m sorry. I just cannot stand the thought of her being without a father when I had such a wonderful, loving, and respectful relationship with my father.”

“Edward is not your father. He is kind and loving, but he is also a tormented soul, and we cannot fathom how that pains him. Something must have happened the night that Max was born that we cannot comprehend. We do not like his way of coping with what happened, but we must try to understand it.” She took both of Rose’s hands in hers. “You must try too.”

Rose felt tears burn behind her eyes and blinked them away as she nodded. She was making a mess of things, and now she had to go and apologize to the duke and his tormented soul. It was then that she realized that she knew almost nothing about what happened the night Max was born, other than his wife had died. She knew grief, but it was different for everyone. She was judging him without knowing all the facts, as if what she had been told was mere gossip, or the tip of an iceberg. Now she felt awful, and she deserved it. And this was the first ball of the season, and she had ruined it.

Marianne was still holding her hand, but she had no idea why she had not left her standing there in shame. “I am a horrible person,” Rose said.

“No. I know it comes from a place of love for Max. It is just that it is misguided. If I thought you could change his mind, I would be behind you one hundred percent.” She let go of her hand. “But you need to stop. If he is to change, it has to come from him. It has to be his decision.”

“I understand.”

A warm hand grasped her elbow and propelled her onto the dance floor, and before she could react, she heard the duke’s deep voice in her ear. “Do not say a word. Your brother has arrived. If we dance, he will know that you are protected, and if he has any sense, he will not approach.”

Rose looked up at him in a panic as he placed her in the line. “I, uh, I thank you.” She began to look for Cecil.

He nodded and took his place. “Do not look for him. Believe me, he is aware you are here. Do not give him the satisfaction of knowing his entrance has impacted you.”

When they met again, she had to say something. “Thank you. I knew he would be here but not so early into the night.” She raised her eyes up to his, a little afraid of the anger she might see there. “I am sorry about what I said.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well, I didn’t actually say it but…”

“There is no need to explain. I am used to the resentment. What I do not need is to explain myself to you.”

“You are absolutely correct and I apologize.” She made a turn and then came together with him again.

“You did not give me your opinion on my London sunset.”

“You did not say I was forgiven,” she said.

“Do you need my forgiveness?” His eyebrows rose as if he had not expected her to ask for it.

“I do. I was out of line.”

“Your honesty is refreshing, Lady Rose.”

“I own my mistakes, Your Grace. That is something my father taught me. I admit I am also impulsive when I am passionate about a cause, and sometimes, I should curb my tongue.”

“And my sunset?”

She laughed a little. “I see you are also persistent when you want an answer.”

“I am.”