20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

R osalind stepped into the grand ballroom of Harrington Manor, her hand resting lightly on Alex's arm. The room was ablaze with the glow of a thousand candles, their warm light casting an inviting ambiance. The air hummed with the excited chatter of the assembled guests, their faces alight with curiosity and anticipation. As they made their way through the crowd, Rosalind could feel the weight of countless gazes upon them, the scrutiny of a society eager for a new story to tell. Whispers followed in their wake, the hushed murmurs of speculation and intrigue.

"Is that the Duke of Somerton with Lady Rosalind?" a lady whispered behind her fan, her eyes wide with interest.

"I heard they've been inseparable lately," another replied, her voice laced with a hint of envy.

Rosalind held her head high, her smile never faltering as she navigated the sea of curious faces. She knew that their presence together was a magnet for attention, a beacon for the gossip-hungry ton, but she refused to let their whispers and speculations dampen her spirits.

As they reached the centre of the ballroom, Alex turned to face her, his eyes sparkling with warmth and admiration. He bowed low and Rosalind curtsied in return, her heart fluttering with anticipation as she placed her hand in his.

The music swelled around them as they took their first steps, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Rosalind could feel the heat of Alex's touch through the delicate silk of her glove, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. The other dancers in their set may as well have not existed. For even when the dance required that they partner with others, their eyes were fixed on one another.

As they twirled and glided across the polished floor, Rosalind caught snippets of the conversations around them, the whispers growing louder with each passing moment.

"They make a striking couple, don't they?" a gentleman remarked, his voice tinged with approval.

"I hear the Duke is quite smitten with her," a lady replied, sniffing haughtily to conceal her jealousy.

Rosalind felt a flush of pleasure at their words, a secret thrill coursing through her veins. She knew that the rumours of their blossoming romance were spreading like wildfire, the embers of gossip fanned by the watchful eyes of London society, but as she gazed into Alex's eyes, lost in the depths of his tender expression, Rosalind found that she didn't care about the whispers or the speculation. In that moment, all that mattered was the connection between them, the unspoken understanding that had grown and flourished in the face of adversity.

As the dance drew to a close, Alex leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "You are a vision tonight, Lady Rosalind," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

Rosalind felt a blush rise to her cheeks, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. "And you, Your Grace, are quite the dashing escort," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mirth. She knew full well that their actions would only add fuel to the fire, but she didn't care. In fact, she found that she didn't care about much of anything when she was staring into Alex's dark eyes.

Around them, the whispers continued to swirl, the speculation and intrigue reaching a fever pitch, but Rosalind paid them no heed, her attention focused solely on the man before her, the one who had captured her heart and ignited her soul.

As the music faded and the applause of the guests filled the ballroom, Rosalind felt Alex's gentle tug on her hand. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he tipped his head toward the entrance to the ballroom.

Rosalind, doing her level best to keep her expression calm and demure, dipped her head and curtsied. She caught the corner of a smile from Alex as he turned away, walking with purpose.

Rosalind made a great show of ambling to the edges of the ballroom, procuring herself a glass of lemonade. Amelia appeared at her elbow, an ironic twist to her mouth.

"Why, Rosalind, you are positively flushed–I expect it was all that dancing," Amelia said, just loud enough to be overheard.

"Yes," Rosalind replied lightly, playing along. "It is rather warm in here, and the air is so close."

"Oh dear," Amelia said. "Well, perhaps you should take some fresh air then," she tutted, all sisterly concern. Rosalind gave her just a hint of a grin, and Amelia affected a face of such innocence that there could be no doubt that she knew what was really afoot.

Rosalind nodded solemnly, making her way from the ballroom with slow, casual steps so that no one would notice her as she slipped away. Quickly, her silk dancing slippers whispering across the floor as she made her way through darkened halls. Then, she made her way to the back doors that opened into the garden. As she put her hand on the latch, she could see Alex standing just on the other side, his back to the house, but his handsome profile turned to grin at her. She returned his grin and opened the door only as much as she needed to slip through.

Once outside, she took a deep breath, the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves enveloping them in a world of their own. The tranquillity of the gardens was a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the ballroom, but the serenity could not totally quell the chaotic beating of her heart.

It was only redoubled when the Duke offered her his hand and she twined her fingers in his. It was only marginally cooler outside than the ballroom, with summer being well and truly underway, but Rosalind was under no doubt that it was infinitely more pleasant. Hand in hand, they strolled along the winding paths, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on their faces.

"We really did something remarkable, didn't we?" she asked. Alex looked down at her, and she hurried on, "With the Judge, I mean. We made an actual, quantifiable difference in the world. I used to feel so helpless all of the time," she continued, her words coming faster, speaking them as she thought them. "I would see all of these poor, miserable people in London, and there was nothing I could do to help them. Father would just pull the curtains on the carriage window so that we wouldn't have to look at them."

Her pert nose wrinkled in distaste at the memory. "I had always thought that the most I could do was give to my charities and hand out bread at Christmas." She turned shining, excited eyes onto Alex, smiling up at him. "But here, we've done something actually good. I've always known that I wanted to do more, to be more, but until now, I've never really had a notion of how to do it."

She paused for a moment, halting her steps and forcing Alex to halt beside her. Her expression, though still alight with an eager goodness, had turned more grave. "We are stronger together," she said solemnly.

Alex listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He smiled gently down at her. "You have a beautiful heart, Rosalind," he murmured, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. "Your compassion and strength are truly remarkable."

Rosalind felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his words, a sense of validation and understanding that she had never experienced before. In Alex, she had found not only a partner, but a kindred spirit, someone who shared her values and her vision for a better world.

"I must confess that I, too, have been greatly bothered by the suffering I see about me. I do my best by my tenants, but there are other people, the truly poor and destitute that have long existed at the edges of my estate. I see them scraping by in the winter, barely surviving, and it–"

He stopped, his brow knitting together. "I have never really known how to help them; they will not accept anything they perceive as pity." He turned his gaze back down to Rosalind, his eyes alight as if he had just realised the possibilities of their future. "Together, Rosalind," he said, his eyes locked with hers, "we could achieve great things. We could be a force for good, a beacon of hope in a world that so often seems shrouded in darkness."

Rosalind felt her heart swell with emotion, Alex's words resonating deep within her soul. In that moment, she knew that she had found not only a partner in life, but a partner in purpose, someone who would never hinder her, never keep her in the little box that was meant to be a woman's place. He saw her, what she was capable of, and he revelled in it. This warmed her heart and her cheeks more than any lovelorn poetry, any ballad, a thousand gifts of diamonds and flowers ever could.

As they walked hand in hand, the blooming flowers and gentle breezes a balm to their weary spirits, Rosalind felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over her. In the gardens of Harrington Manor, immersed in the splendour of nature and the warmth of Alex's presence, she knew that she had found her place in the world, her true calling. It was a contentment she had never known, and it gave her a strength and appreciation for life that she had never known.

As if sensing this subtle shift within her, the Duke impulsively pulled her into a little alcove in the wall that surrounded the garden. They were shielded from view of the house, and Rosalind swallowed hard as she looked up at Alex. He pressed her backwards, gently but insistently, until she was caught between the wall and himself. She could feel the rough stone of the wall through her silk evening dress and chemise, the stones radiating the warmth that they had absorbed during the day.

Alex folded her into his arms, and she melted against him without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Rosalind felt her heart racing as she stood in Alex's embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping her like a comforting blanket. She gazed up at him, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. The music and light from the ball were far away, leaving them locked in a world of their own. Everything had ceased to exist that was not in the space between them.

As they stood there, lost in each other's presence, Rosalind found herself longing for the touch of his lips against hers. She knew that polite young ladies, genteel young ladies, weren't meant to feel such things, not until they were married, and possibly not even then. She didn't care; she didn't care about any of that as she looked up at Alex. There was a strange heaviness in her limbs, a sort of surrender that she had never felt before, a wild abandon. Her lips were softly parted, her breath panting out between them.

She could feel the electricity crackling between them, the unspoken desire that hung heavy in the air. Her breath caught in her throat as Alex leaned in closer, his hand gently cupping her cheek. His dark eyes were almost black from the way that his pupils were dilated. With agonising slowness, he leaned down, his lips just a whisper away. Rosalind's eyes fell closed, and she surrendered to the moment. She was going to be kissed, and by Jove, she was going to enjoy it.

"Rosalind? Your Grace?" Lord Harrington's voice rang out, startling them both.