Chapter 18

Their eyes locked in a tense moment of silent confrontation, the weight of his grip sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through her veins. She could feel the pressure of his fingers digging into her skin, the intensity of his gaze piercing through her like a dagger.

In that fleeting instant, a myriad of emotions flickered across Mr. Trent's features—confusion, disorientation, and something else, something darker and more unsettling. Rose's heart began to race, a sense of unease settling like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed. Mr. Trent released her wrist with an apologetic murmur, his expression clouded with embarrassment at his abrupt reaction.

"I… I'm sorry, Miss Rose," he said quietly, glancing at the duke in an effort not to wake him. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," she whispered back. "It's quite all right."

"It is not," he corrected her. "My sleep is always plagued with nightmares about the war," he explained. "When you grabbed me, I… I panicked and I apologize for startling you."

"Like I said, it is all right," she repeated simply, glancing over at William, to see if they had woken him up. Then, she looked back at him. "You might want to try chamomile tea. It will help you sleep better."

"Thank you, but I am beyond help, my dear," he said somehow sadly. Then, he quickly added, his voice a low whisper. "You seem to care deeply about the duke," Mr. Trent said, but what startled her was the fact that it wasn't a question. It was a statement, meaning he was certain of what he was saying.

"Of course," she said with a dismissive half-shrug. "He almost died. Of course, I was concerned for his wellbeing and did everything in my power to bring him back."

"I see," he nodded, lifting an eyebrow.

He isn't going to mention the kisses, is he? She wondered apprehensively, because she had no idea how on earth, she would explain kissing the face of her employer while he was unconscious. It was preposterous to even think that such a thing had an explanation other than the only reasonable one. Fortunately, however, Mr. Trent seemed satisfied with her response.

"I am merely doing my job, Mr. Trent," she concluded respectfully.

"And you are doing it very well, Miss Rose," he added somehow mischievously, which she didn't like at all.

"If you will excuse me," she said, taking a step back. "There are still a few things I must tend to."

"Of course," he nodded, watching her leave. She was with her back turned to him, but she could swear that he didn't take his eyes off of her even for a single second until she disappeared behind closed doors.

With each step, Rose felt the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her, the echoes of her encounter with Mr. Trent still reverberating through her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her, a nagging sense of doubt and uncertainty that gnawed at her conscience.

As she made her way to the kitchen, the familiar surroundings offered a brief respite from the turmoil within her. The comforting scent of freshly baked bread and simmering stews filled the air, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity.

But even amidst the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, Rose found herself unable to shake the lingering unease that had taken root within her. Were her feelings for the duke truly that obvious, she wondered? Had Mr. Trent seen through the carefully constructed facade she had so diligently maintained?

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, a stark reminder of the precariousness of her position within Montford Manor. She knew she would have to tread carefully, to guard her heart against the dangerous allure of forbidden desire.

As she busied herself with her tasks, Rose resolved to keep her distance, to bury the emotions that threatened to consume her beneath a veneer of professionalism and restraint. For in a world where love knew no boundaries, she knew that some desires were best left unspoken, lest they unravel the delicate tapestry of her carefully constructed life.

When she realized that the last task had been brought to an end, she headed out of the kitchen and down the barely lit corridor, heading toward the servants' quarters, where she would take her coat and head back home. However, as she walked, she had a dreadful sense that someone was following her, as if the sound of her own footsteps doubled behind her, making her think there was someone else there.

Without thinking, she turned around, only to come face to face with none other than Mr. Trent.

"Oh," she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "You startled me."

He grinned. "You didn't think it was a ghost, did you?"

"No," she said, not smiling back. "Of course not. I thought it was Mr. Hancock, rushing after me to tell me something."

Mr. Trent tilted his head a little. She didn't like that one bit. She felt almost naked when he looked at her like that.

"So, you are afraid of Mr. Hancock?"

"No," she shook her head. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you were startled," he reminded her.

"Yes, well… never mind," she replied, deciding not to delve into a deeper conversation with this man who, despite having saved William and for that had her eternal gratitude, made her senses all tingle.

"You know, I was hoping to catch you before you left home," he said, speaking in a low murmur, as if he were afraid of being overheard.

"Why?" she wondered.

"Because I was wondering if you would be interested in… keeping me company this evening," he asked, and the very question almost made Rose's jaw drop down to the floor. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. T had to be a mistake. It just had to.

Then, she heard him clarify. "I was uhm… talking to William, and he gave me the impression that you were fond of such… activities."

Rose felt utterly flabbergasted. This comment only solidified the fact that she had not been mistaken. She heard everything all right. There was no mistake about that. And this man was assuming that she was… interested in spending the night with him, because William told him so?

Just at that moment, he reached out and placed his hand gently on the small of her back, stepping dangerously close to her. His intentions were more than clear at that moment. Rose immediately took a step back, as if the man's touch scorched her. What did the duke tell him? Her thought and feelings seemed to be all over the place, and she couldn't come up with a single coherent thought.

"Mr. Trent, I do not know what the duke has discussed with you, but my family is expecting me and that is where I shall be spending the night," she clarified through clenched teeth, as she didn't want to make a scene. Although, she never knew how difficult it was to have the utmost desire to scream, but being forced to whisper.

"Miss Rose, I assure you that—"

"Miss Rose, is everything all right?" Mr. Hancock's reassuring voice thundered through the corridors, like a beacon of light. Never in her entire life did Rose think that she would be that glad to see the man who never smiled at her once. But now, he was exactly where she needed him to be, saving the day.

"Yes, Mr. Hancock," she was unable to resist the urge to smile in the face of that man who dared to approach her with such an unmentionable proposition. "Everything is quite all right. I was just on my way to gather my coat."

"Good," Mr. Hancock acknowledged. "Your carriage is ready to take you home whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Mr. Hancock, I am ready," Rose exhaled with relief, as she turned to Mr. Trent. "Good night, Mr. Trent."

"Good night, Miss Rose," the man replied, obviously the sort of man who needed to make every conversation end with his own last words. Rose didn't care. As long as she was as far away from him as possible, that was all that mattered.

About half an hour later, she found herself in the carriage, close to home. Still under the impression of what happened, she couldn't even breathe properly. What had the duke told him? She couldn't believe that, after everything, the duke would say something like that about her. Then again, she barely knew the man. Just because they kissed, that didn't necessarily mean that he respected her or cared about her.

No, no… That little voice tried to reassure her but it was difficult. Why else would Mr. Trent approach her with such a shocking offer unless the duke told him it was all right to do so? It didn't make any sense.

She arrived home, tiptoeing through the house, not wanting to wake up anyone. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was to have her aunt ask her what happened. If Aunt Cora found out, Rose was certain that she would not be allowed to return to the manor. And rightfully so.

As she tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep, Rose couldn't escape the sensation that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.