23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

R osalind stared at the stranger warily. She clutched Alex's arm tighter, her fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeve as a wave of unease washed over her.

The woman's gaze flickered towards Alex, and Rosalind saw something in her eyes that made her blood run cold. It was a look of familiarity, of intimacy – a look that spoke volumes about the nature of their relationship. Rosalind's mind raced, piecing together the puzzle, and she felt a sickening sense of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. This woman, whoever she was, knew Alex in a way that Rosalind could not fathom. And the way she looked at him, with a mixture of longing and possessiveness, sent a chill down Rosalind's spine.

Alex seemed to sense Rosalind's discomfort, for he shifted his stance, putting himself between her and the woman in a protective gesture. "You have no right to be here," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The woman's lips curved into a mocking smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, but I do," she purred, her gaze flickering back to Rosalind. "You see, your beloved Duke and I have a history that runs far deeper than you could ever imagine."

Rosalind felt her heart sink as the woman's words washed over her, each syllable like a dagger twisting in her gut. She wanted to believe that this was all some sort of misunderstanding, a cruel trick of fate, but the look in the woman's eyes told her otherwise. Instinctively, she glanced around, hoping that none of the eager ears of the ton had overheard the woman's bold words.

As the woman took a step closer, Rosalind felt a surge of anger rise within her, a fierce protectiveness that threatened to consume her. She would not let this woman, whoever she was, come between her and Alex. Not now, not ever.

With a defiant tilt of her chin, Rosalind met the woman's gaze head-on, her emerald eyes burning with a fierce determination. "I don't know who you are," she said, her voice steady and unwavering, "but I will not let you ruin what Alex and I have built."

The woman's laughter was like a knife to Rosalind's heart, mocking and cruel. "Oh, my dear," she said through a laugh, her eyes glittering with malice. "You have no idea what you've got yourself into."

"Outside," the Duke snarled in a voice that Rosalind almost didn't recognise. "Now."

With a last, lingering look at Rosalind, the strange woman sauntered out of the ballroom as if she had the world on a string. Alex, his jaw tight and his shoulders squared as if he were facing a firing squad, followed after her without so much as a word to Rosalind.

Rosalind's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Alex and the mysterious woman disappear through the balcony doors. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, each one more unsettling than the last. Who was this woman, and what hold did she have over Alex?

The ballroom seemed to spin around her, the laughter and music fading into a distant hum as she stood frozen in place. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if all eyes were upon her, scrutinising her every move. The weight of the ton's judgement pressed down on her shoulders, suffocating her with their whispers and speculations.

Rosalind's gaze darted around the room, searching for a familiar face, someone she could cling to in this moment of uncertainty. All she saw, though, were the curious glances and raised eyebrows of the ton. Their expressions were a mixture of pity and barely concealed glee at the prospect of a fresh scandal.

She longed to follow Alex and the woman, to demand answers and lay bare the truth, no matter how painful it might be. Instead, her feet felt rooted to the spot, paralysed by the fear of what she might uncover. What if this woman's claims were true? What if Alex had been deceiving her all along, playing her for a fool?

The thought was almost too much to bear, and Rosalind felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. She blinked them back furiously, refusing to show weakness in front of the vultures that circled her. She was Lady Rosalind Harrington, and she would not be cowed by the whispers of the ton. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, projecting an air of confidence she did not truly feel. She would not allow this moment to define her, nor would she let the rumours and speculations of others dictate her path.

Amidst the dancers, Rosalind stood alone, determined to confront Alex and uncover the truth.

***

R osalind's heart pounded in her chest as she crept down the dimly lit corridor, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath her feet. She could hear the faint strains of music and laughter drifting from the ballroom. However, all of that seemed a world away as she drew closer to the balcony doors, beyond which Alex and the mysterious woman had disappeared.

With trembling hands, she reached for the handle of the balcony door, her fingers curling around the cool metal as she eased it open just enough to slip through. The night air was cool against her flushed cheeks, and she paused for a moment, gathering her courage before moving forward.

Rosalind could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the far end of the balcony, and she moved towards them with cautious steps, her skirts whispering against the flagstones. As she drew closer, she could make out the words, though their meaning remained elusive.

"...cannot believe you had the audacity..." Alex's voice was low and dangerous, laced with a fury that Rosalind had never heard before.

"Oh, come now, Alex," the woman purred, her voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that sent a shiver down Rosalind's spine. "Surely you didn't think you could escape all responsibility."

Rosalind pressed herself against the wall, her heart thundering in her chest as she strained to catch every word. Who was this woman, and what was her connection to Alex? The questions swirled in her mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

"You have no right," Alex growled, his voice tight with barely contained anger. "You can't just stroll back into my life and—"

"Can't I?" The woman's laugh was like the tinkling of bells, but there was a sharp edge to it that cut through Rosalind like a knife. "I seem to have done just that, my dear Duke."

Rosalind's breath caught in her throat as she realised the implications of the woman's words. Could it be that this woman was... No, she dared not even entertain the thought. But the way Alex spoke to her, the undercurrent of history between them, it all seemed to point to one inescapable truth.

Rosalind emerged from the shadows, her heart racing as she stepped out onto the balcony. Alex stood with his back to her, his shoulders tense and his head bowed. The mysterious woman was nowhere to be seen, having slipped away like a wraith in the night.

"Alex?" Rosalind's voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the stillness of the night air. "What's going on? Who was that woman?"

Alex turned slowly, his face a mask of anguish and despair. In the moonlight, Rosalind could see the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes, and her heart clenched at the sight.

"Rosalind, I..." He faltered, his voice breaking on her name. "I don't know how to explain."

"Try." Rosalind stepped closer, her silk gown rustling as she moved. "I heard what she said, Alex. About responsibility and... and the past. What did she mean?"

Alex closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find the words. "Her name is Mary Blackwood," he said at last, his voice low and rough with emotion. "She and I... we were involved, years ago. Before I met you."

Rosalind felt as though the ground had dropped out from beneath her feet. She stared at Alex, her mind reeling as she tried to process his words. "Involved," she repeated, her voice sounding distant and strange to her own ears. "You mean... you were lovers?"

Alex nodded, his eyes still closed as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "It was a mistake," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "A foolish, reckless mistake. I ended things with her, but... but she claims..."

"Claims what?" Rosalind demanded, her voice rising in pitch as a sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

Alex opened his eyes, and the pain she saw there took her breath away. "She claims to have born my child," he said, his voice breaking on the last word. "A son, born out of wedlock. She says she's come to claim what's rightfully hers... and the child's."

Rosalind felt shocked and hurt. She stared at Alex, her mind reeling as she tried to make sense of his words. A child... a son... born to another woman. The betrayal cut deep, making it hard for her to breathe..

"How could you?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and despair. "How could you keep this from me, Alex? I thought... I thought we had no secrets between us."

Alex's words devastated Rosalind.

"I didn't know, Rosalind," Alex said, his voice laced with desperation as he reached for her, his fingers closing around her wrist in a gentle but firm grip. "I swear to you, I had no idea she was with child when she left me all those years ago."

Rosalind wrenched her arm from his grasp, her eyes flashing with fury as she took a step back. With a sharp tug, she snatched the mask from her face so that he might see her fury all the better. "And you expect me to believe that?" she spat, her voice trembling with the force of her emotions. "You expect me to believe that this... this woman just happened to show up out of the blue, claiming to have born your child, and you had no knowledge of it whatsoever?"

Alex's face was a mask of anguish, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "I know how it sounds, Rosalind, but you have to believe me. Mary and I... we were together, yes, but it was a mistake, a moment of weakness that I've regretted ever since. When she left me, she gave no explanation, no indication that she was carrying my child. I was heartbroken, Rosalind, and I thought I could never love again."

Rosalind's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at the man she thought she knew. The man she had given her heart to so completely. "And now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Am I just the latest in a long string of mistresses, Alex? Another notch in your bedpost, another conquest to be cast aside when you tire of me?"

"No!" Alex's denial was vehement and immediate, his eyes wide and earnest as he reached for her again, only to have her recoil from his touch. "Rosalind, you have to believe me, you are the only woman I have ever truly loved. What I felt for Mary was nothing compared to the depths of my feelings for you."

Alex's betrayal weighed heavily on Rosalind. She shook her head, her hands trembling as she took another step back, putting more distance between them.

"I can't..." she whispered, her voice thick with tears she refused to let fall. He would get no more of her tears. "I can't do this, Alex. Not now, not after this."

Alex's face shifted, the lines in it hardening and his eyes going cold. It was like a stranger was standing in his place, and it was terrible to see. Rosalind recoiled as if struck. His eyes flashed with a fury she had never seen before, and for a moment, she feared she did not truly know the man she had given her heart to.

Alex's jaw clenched, and Rosalind could see the muscle twitching in his cheek as he struggled to maintain his composure. "It's not that simple, Rosalind," he bit out, his words clipped and sharp. "This child, whether legitimate or not, is still an heir to my title, to my legacy. I cannot simply turn my back on that."

Rosalind felt the air leave her lungs in a rush, as though she had been punched in the gut. She stared at Alex, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "So that's it, then?" she whispered, her voice thick. "You're simply going to give in, to just discard everything we've—I thought we meant more to each other than this."

Alex's expression softened for a moment, and he reached out to her, his fingers grazing her arm in a gentle caress. "Rosalind, please, try to understand..."

Rosalind wrenched her arm away from his touch, her eyes blazing with a fury that matched his own. "No, Alex," she said, her voice low and trembling with barely contained emotion. "I don't think I can understand this at all. You claim to love me, to want a future with me, yet you refuse to trust me with your whole self. I cannot abide a marriage where there isn't trust, without reservation."

Alex's face twisted with anguish, and for a moment, Rosalind thought she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Then his expression hardened once more, and he drew himself up to his full height, his shoulders squared as if bracing for a battle.

"I have a responsibility, Rosalind," he said, his voice low and unyielding. "A duty to my family, to my legacy. I cannot simply ignore that, no matter how much I may wish to."

Rosalind felt the tears she had been holding back spill over, hot and stinging as they streaked down her cheeks. She shook her head slowly, her heart shattering into a million pieces.

"Then I fear you have made your choice, Your Grace," she said, her voice thick with pain and betrayal. "And it is not me." She straightened, tossing her head proudly so that he would not see how badly she was truly hurting. "Of all of this, the one thing that I do understand is that you must do what is right by your child. Whatever I may think of your...past, that child is innocent. Do right by him."

With that, she turned and retreated to the ballroom. She didn't bother replacing her mask, leaving it at Alex's feet. Let the ton see, let them judge—she did not, could not care anymore what they might think. Through it all, her conscience ate at her; she couldn't ask Alex to abandon his child, it was wrong and unfair to even think it. Her own future, once so secure, so certain, was now like a great, yawning void before her.