21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

T hey leapt apart as if they had been galvanised, their cheeks flushed with the heat of their almost-kiss. In the shadowy darkness of the garden, they quickly adjusted rumpled clothing and Rosalind silently prayed that her flushed cheeks weren't visible in the dark. Lord Harrington approached them, his brow furrowed with suspicion.

"What on Earth are you doing out here? Alone?" he demanded, his eyes sweeping about as if expecting to see a chaperone emerge from one of the shrubs.

"Father," Rosalind greeted him, her voice slightly breathless. "We were just discussing the Duke's upcoming masquerade ball. Amelia's just stepped away for a moment," she said, swallowing hard against her dry throat and willing her voice not to crack. "To fetch me a...shawl," she concluded.

Alex quickly composed himself, his posture straightening as he faced Lord Harrington. "Indeed, Lord Harrington," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "I was just mentioning to Lady Rosalind that I would be honoured if she could assist with the preparations for the ball. I am, as you know, sadly without a hostess, and I should be glad of her help."

Lord Harrington's eyebrows raised in surprise, his gaze shifting between his daughter and the Duke. "Is that so?" he asked, a hint of scepticism in his tone.

Alex nodded, his eyes meeting Lord Harrington's with unwavering sincerity. "Lady Rosalind's impeccable taste and keen eye for detail would be invaluable in ensuring the success of the event," he explained. "I would be most grateful for her assistance and your permission, of course." He leaned forward, lowering his tone conspiratorially. "One hears awful tales of gentlemen being forced to rely on professional hostesses, or worse—" He paused for dramatic effect. "Of having to use public assembly rooms."

Rosalind held her breath, her heart pounding as she awaited her father's response. She knew that his approval was crucial, not only for her involvement in the ball preparations but also for the growing bond between her and Alex.

Lord Harrington studied them both for a moment, his expression unreadable. Rosalind could see the gears turning in his mind as he considered the Duke's request. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Well, if Rosalind is willing and eager to assist, I see no reason to object," he said, his tone softening. "I trust that you will ensure her safety and well-being throughout the preparations, Your Grace. It will be necessary for one of the maids or her sisters to chaperone her," he added with a pointed look. "A father must think of his daughter's reputation, after all. One hears...rumours these days."

Alex bowed his head in gratitude, a smile of relief spreading across his face. "Of course, Lord Harrington," he assured him. "Lady Rosalind's comfort and security are of the utmost importance to me."

Rosalind felt a surge of joy and excitement coursing through her veins. The prospect of working alongside Alex, of being a part of something as grand and spectacular as the masquerade ball, filled her with a sense of purpose and anticipation. Though she'd received the same training as Amelia, she'd never had the opportunity to act as hostess before. That duty falling to the oldest daughter of the house in absence of a wife.

"Thank you, Father," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I promise to do my best and make you proud."

Lord Harrington nodded, his expression still a little suspicious. "I am sure you will," he said to Rosalind, but his eyes were still on the Duke. "Shall I escort you back to the ballroom? I believe Isabella was looking for you earlier." Rosalind nodded, and Lord Harrington turned to start back to the house.

"It seems we have much to discuss and plan, Your Grace," she said, her voice tender and filled with promise.

Alex's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and adoration. "Indeed we do, Lady Rosalind," he replied, his hand gently brushing against hers. "I look forward to working closely with you tirelessly, all day long..."

"Rosalind," Lord Harrington said, having paused and turned to find that Rosalind was not behind him as he had expected. There was a little salt in his voice, and Rosalind, with a final longing glance at the Duke, hurried her steps to catch up with her father.

As the date of the Duke's masquerade ball drew near, Rosalind found herself spending more and more time at the Fitzwilliam estate, immersed in the preparations alongside Alex. The hours seemed to fly by as they huddled together in the drawing room, poring over guest lists and menu options, their minds in perfect sync as they worked towards a common goal.

Amelia, bless her, made it a point to find excuses to leave them alone for long stretches of time, under vague excuses of wanting to see the gardens. Isabella, on the occasions she accompanied them to act as chaperone, needed no excuses—she would simply march off to go peruse the Duke's massive collection of art.

Rosalind couldn't help but marvel at the ease with which they collaborated, their ideas and suggestions flowing seamlessly as if they had been partners in planning for years. She found herself stealing glances at Alex as they worked, admiring the way his brow furrowed in concentration and the way his eyes lit up when they landed upon a particularly brilliant idea.

As they debated over the finer details of the ball, from the colour scheme of the decorations to the selection of music for the evening, Rosalind felt a warmth blossoming in her chest. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, a sense of belonging and purpose that went beyond the superficial trappings of society. Rosalind knew that hosting a masque was not a world-altering event, but it was still a thrill to know that they worked so well together. It opened up the possibility of what they might be capable of in the future.

In those moments, as they sat side by side, their shoulders brushing and their hands occasionally grazing as they reached for the same piece of paper, the Duke was lighter, freer, than she had ever seen him be. It was as if he were young again, without the cares of the world weighing him down.

She found herself longing for more of these precious moments, where the world outside the drawing room ceased to exist .It was just the two of them, lost in the joy of creation and the thrill of each other's company.

As the days passed and the preparations progressed, Rosalind began to see a different side of Alex. One that went beyond the stoic and guarded exterior he presented to the world. She caught glimpses of his humour and his kindness, the way he treated the servants with respect and the way he listened attentively to her ideas and opinions.

As the preparations for the masquerade ball consumed her waking hours, Rosalind found herself pouring her heart and soul into every aspect of the planning. She had never in her entire life been given control over something, had any sort of real authority delegated to her. She revelled in it, in knowing that she was both capable and able to make decisions. It was a taste of the vague sort of independence that was afforded to married women, and Rosalind was chuffed to find that it suited her so well.

At times, she could feel Alex's eyes on her, and it always made her shiver a little to find him staring at her. She would be engaged in the most mundane task, such as discussing menus with the housekeeper or table settings. Her eyes would instinctively look up to find Alex watching her with fond admiration.

Together, they stole away to a quiet corner of the estate, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Rosalind's heart raced as Alex drew her closer, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made her knees weak. She leaned into his embrace, savouring the warmth of his touch and the comforting scent of the pomatum in his hair. Amelia, ever the dutiful chaperone, stationed herself just outside the door, her arms folded, fairly daring anyone to enter the room.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of them, lost in the depths of each other's eyes. Rosalind's lips parted, a whispered confession of her feelings dancing on the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, content to simply bask in the comfort of each other's company, but as the silence stretched on, Rosalind felt a stirring in her heart, a need to give voice to the feelings that had been building within her for so long. She placed her hand in his, which he willingly accepted.

"Alex," she began, her voice filled with emotion, "I never thought I would find someone like you, someone who sees me for who I truly am and accepts me, flaws and all."

Alex's grip on her hand tightened, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles as he listened intently to her words.

"You have become my rock, my refuge in a world that seeks to define me by the expectations of others," Rosalind continued, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "With you, I feel free to be myself, to dream and to hope for a future that is entirely of our own making."

Alex's eyes softened, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips as he lifted his free hand to gently cradle her chin in his fingers. "Rosalind," he murmured, his voice raw with emotion, "you have transformed my life in ways I never thought possible. Before I met you, I was a man adrift, haunted by the ghosts of my past and the weight of my own expectations."

He paused, taking a moment to savour the smile on her face. "But you, with your fierce spirit and your unwavering belief in me, have given me the strength to face my demons and to forge a new path, one that is filled with love and purpose."

Rosalind's heart swelled with emotion, her eyes locked on Alex's as he continued to speak.

"I love you, Rosalind," he declared, his voice strong and clear in the stillness of the sitting room. "I love you with every fibre of my being, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days by your side."

Rosalind's breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with wonder and disbelief. She had dreamed of hearing those words from Alex's lips, but to hear them spoken aloud, with such conviction and sincerity, was almost more than she could bear.

"I love you too, Alex," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I love you more than I ever thought possible, and I want nothing more than to be yours, now and forever."

Rosalind's heart raced as she gazed into Alex's eyes, her entire being longing to be closer to him, to feel the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his embrace. The love that had blossomed between them was a force that threatened to consume her, a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment. Even as her body ached for his, Rosalind knew that she had to resist the temptation, to hold fast to the principles of propriety and decorum that had been ingrained in her since birth. She was a lady, and a lady did not succumb to her desires, no matter how strong they might be.

Alex, too, seemed to be struggling with the same internal battle; his eyes darkening with a hunger that matched her own, but he was a gentleman, and a gentleman did not endanger a lady's reputation, no matter how much he might want to.

"Rosalind," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, "I want nothing more than to take you in my arms and never let you go, but I know that we must wait. We must do things properly, for the sake of your reputation and our future together."

Rosalind nodded, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the man who stood before her. He understood her, understood the delicate balance that they had to strike between their own desires and the expectations of society.

"I know, Alex," she whispered, her hand reaching out to gently caress his cheek, feeling greatly daring. "And I am grateful for your restraint, for your respect for me and for the love that we share."

For a moment, they simply sat there, lost in each other's eyes, their hearts beating in perfect sync. With a sigh of resignation, Alex stood, gently pulling her to her feet. "We should return to the task at hand," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "The servants will be wondering where we have gone, and we have much to discuss before the masquerade ball."

Rosalind nodded, her own sense of duty and responsibility warring with her desire to remain in Alex's presence for just a little while longer, but she knew that he was right, that they had to be careful. They had to maintain the illusion of propriety, even as their hearts yearned for something more.

Even so, she couldn't completely regret teasing him. She let out a dramatic sigh and put the back of her hand to her forehead. "Oh, to be cursed with such a considerate, responsible man," she said in the manner of a stage actress in the midst of a great tragedy, letting her eyes fall closed in a pretend swoon. She cracked one eye open, fighting a smile all the while, and Alex chuckled, too.

And then, as they were about to leave the sitting room, Alex turned to her, his eyes shining with love and determination.

"Rosalind," he said, his voice steady and sure, "I know that we have only just begun to explore the depths of our feelings for each other, but I also know that I cannot imagine my life without you by my side."

Rosalind's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding with anticipation and joy.

"What are you saying, Alex?" she asked, her voice curious.

"I am saying that I want to marry you, Rosalind," he declared, his hand reaching out to take hers in a gentle, but firm grip. "I want to spend the rest of my days with you, living a life that is filled with love and purpose and joy. I want more than simply convenience–I want you," he said with such finality that no one could ever doubt the depths of his sincerity and love.

Rosalind's eyes filled with tears, her heart overflowing with a love that she had never thought possible. She had dreamed of this moment, had longed for the day when Alex would ask for her hand in marriage, but to hear the words spoken aloud, with such conviction and sincerity, was almost more than she could bear.

"Yes, Alex," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I will marry you, now and forever."

And then, in a moment of perfect synchronicity, they both spoke at once, their voices blending together in a harmony that was as beautiful as it was profound.

"We should announce our engagement at the masquerade ball," they said, their eyes locked on each other's, their hearts beating as one, matching grins on their faces.