Chapter 5

The Morning After

Rose had spoken to no one upon her return. As soon as she had re-entered the ballroom, the whispering and finger-pointing had started. She had managed to hold her head high, even bidding farewell to the hosts.

Yet, as soon as she had climbed into the carriage, her strength had failed her. She had begun to weep as her mother held her. There was no consolation to be found.

"Come now, there is still hope." Her mother squeezed her arm.

"How can there be? What respectable man will want me when he thinks I have behaved so wantonly?" Rose sobbed.

"My dear, no situation is unsalvageable. No reputation is completely beyond repair. We must act decisively and with purpose. Uncontrolled rumors quickly control us." Lady Cotswalts pursed her lips in thought. "I must think who might be able to help us. Ideally, the Duke should fix the situation…"

Rose snorted. "I shall not hold my breath."

The Duke had not even returned to the ball. She had not seen him and was not sure that she wanted to. The anger and coldness she had seen on his face still sent shivers down her spine.

She tried to reconcile the earlier moments of their encounter with what little she knew of the man. Yet, she could not marry the two halves. It was as if he had been an entirely different person.

Shaking her head, she tried to recall their conversation. She had been surprised by her own boldness.

And yet it was my own undoing.

If she had been less bold, if she had instead done what she ought to do and been meek and accommodating, perhaps this would never have happened.

If only she had not reacted so badly to Lord Verimoor. Tears filled her eyes once more, and she felt anger rise in her. Though whether it was directed at herself or another, she could not rightly say.

"I am not asking you to be hopeful." Lady Cotswalts's voice cut into Rose's thoughts. "I am asking you to do what I have always taught you. Consider all the options and use your mind. You must understand what you need, what someone else wants, and how to meet halfway."

Rose nodded, but her mind was too full of the evening's events to contemplate any of her options. Her mother seemed to sense this, and the two lapsed into silence. For her part, Rose was sure that her mother was already planning and scheming.

In the morning, once I have slept, things will be clearer.

The thought had been comforting, but when she awoke the next day, Rose found herself in a state of despair. Her heart was heavy, aching from the night before. She was dimly aware of the sound of running footsteps and a knock at the door before her lady's maid, Abigail, entered.

"Oh, Miss Pembleton, you are awake. Good. I am afraid we have very little time to prepare." Abigail wrung her hands, worry etched on her face. "Lady Cotswalts bade me allow you to rest, but then the Duke of Emberly arrived and?—"

"The Duke of Emberly?!" Alarm shot through Rose, and she spun around to face her maid.

The Duke of Emberly. He is here. In my house. Speaking with my parents. What is he doing here?

"Do you know the purpose of his visit?"

Abigail shook her head. "I am unsure, Miss. All I was told was that he wished to speak to you."

Rose felt the world spin and would have fallen if Abigail had not caught her. "The Duke wishes to speak to me?"

Abigail nodded. "Indeed, he does. He is in the drawing room, waiting for you, and Her Ladyship instructed me to make you ready in haste."

"Of course."

Rose's heart raced, but she forced herself to appear calm.

Presentation is everything.

"Help me dress." Rose gestured to an elegant but simple gown.

It will bring out my eyes. I recall reading somewhere that men liked pretty eyes.

"I must be most presentable to His Grace." Rose tried to keep her voice even.

"Indeed." Abigail nodded, helping her out of her nightdress.

Rose's mind whirled. "Pray, Abigail, tell me everything you know of the Duke. I know servants oft hear what others do not."

Knowledge is power. I must understand what he wants, what kind of man he is, if I am to take control.

Abigail paled. "Everything? Miss Pembleton, I fear much of what I have heard would be quite distressing to any young lady."

Rose held her maid's gaze. "Everything. And as quickly as you can. I know they say he killed his own father, but do they say why?"

Abigail swallowed. "Some say it was for the title and power alone. Others say they fought over a woman. Some say it was just because he enjoys killing. They say even as a young lad, the Duke took great pleasure in cruelty and violence."

Rose listened as Abigail hastily detailed every rumor she had ever heard about the Duke of Emberly. The stories ranged from the mundane to the fantastic. Some claimed he was a changeling, a human child swapped for a fairy infant. Some claimed he had eaten his own twin before they were born, coming into the world holding the other babe's arm.

There was a rumor that he kept his family imprisoned in Emberly Castle while he enjoyed the freedom of London. Another that he only ate raw red meat. Another person claimed that the man was prone to fits of violent rage and that he locked his family away from him for fear he would one day kill them, too.

Throughout each story, there was the thread of violence and the consensus that his malevolence was unleashed the night the previous Duke of Emberly died. No one could recall much of the current Duke before the events of that night, and even fewer had seen him in the eight years since.

As Abigail recounted each salacious rumor, Rose found herself thinking about her mother's words.

Uncontrolled rumors quickly control us.

Rose could see the truth in those words. The Duke, for whatever reason, had allowed eight years' worth of rumors to spread and grow. She would not allow the same to happen to her.

Once she was ready, Rose took a steadying look at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty but unassuming. She would have liked more time to prepare, but already a half hour had passed. The Duke's cold eyes flashed in her mind, and she flinched.

I do not want to anger him.

She made her way to the drawing room, Abigail following close behind her. The house seemed unnaturally quiet, and as Rose opened the door, she tried to ignore the sense of dread that washed over her.

The Duke stood before her, his arms folded behind his back. His dark hair was swept away from his face. He seemed to dominate every part of the room, his height somehow making the normally spacious area seem small and crowded.

His face was an impassive mask. In the light of day, his eyes seemed the color of amber. Yet, there was no warmth in their depths.

"Miss Pembleton." The Duke inclined his head towards her.

Rose curtsied in response. "Your Grace. Pray, forgive me. I did not mean to keep you waiting so long. I was not expecting your visit."

"There is nothing to forgive." The Duke's face remained stony, cold, and distant. "I did not give you advance notice of my visit. It is therefore only to be expected that you may not be ready to receive a caller. I must apologize for not giving you prior notice, as would have been proper."

"Thank you," Rose spoke without thinking. You have just implied you think he is rude. "However, I think no apology is needed. A visit from someone such as yourself is always an honor."

The Duke raised an eyebrow but did not speak.

Rose forced herself not to shift her weight from one foot to the other, wondering how the man before her appeared so unaffected by the situation. The silence was so thick that it felt as though someone was sucking the air out of the room.

Finally, Rose could bear it no longer and asked, "If it is not too bold, might I enquire as to the purpose of your visit, Your Grace?"

"I would have thought that obvious." The Duke cleared his throat, still refusing to look directly at her. "Following our… meeting last night, I have come to ask for your hand."

"My hand?"

He cannot mean marriage. Surely he cannot.

Rose tilted her head at the man, blanching as the walls around her seemed to shrink.

"In marriage." The Duke looked at her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Oh." She swallowed. Behind her, she heard Abigail gasp.

To his credit, the Duke did not react to her maid's rudeness.

Rose pulled herself together.

Presentation is everything.

"I have spoken to your parents, who have agreed to the proposal. Subject to your assent, of course." The Duke rolled his shoulders back. "I am aware of the harm our meeting has caused your good self and your family. I will not force you into a union against your will."

Rose only just managed to stop herself from laughing.

There is no choice here. If I turn the man down, what future will I have? And who knows what his temper might drive him to do?

She swallowed her bitterness and anger. He had not even asked her before speaking to her parents.

"I understand if you do not wish to marry me." His voice was soft. "I shall go."

You would wash your hands so easily of this, wouldn't you?

"No, Your Grace. Pray, do not leave. My silence isn't a rejection of your proposal. In fact, I accept." Rose kept her voice level, not wanting him to sense her anger. "I can see it is the most honorable way forward. My parents have given their consent, and I would not want to go against their wishes."

An unreadable look crossed the Duke's face, but before she could decipher its meaning, it had vanished. "I wish to make clear the terms of my proposal."

"The terms?" Rose's heart began to race.

What more does he want from me?

"Yes. Our marriage shall be in name only. I am under no illusion that this would not be your choice. Yet, given the circumstances, I must do my duty." His voice was cold, as though he were talking about his estate's accounts, not something that would change his whole life. "You will live with me in my London townhouse, Emberly House, but we will have entirely separate bedrooms. I will provide all that you require to feel safe. You shall be free to pursue whatever activities you wish. You will owe me no more than you wish to give."

Rose was not sure why his words caused her such hurt. After all, she did not love the man, and she certainly did not want to have a real marriage with a monster like him.

I have never expected to marry for love. Yet, somehow, the reality of the situation is almost more than I can bear.

"Are these terms agreeable to you?" The Duke surveyed her.

Rose nodded, unable to find her voice.

The man seemed to shrink somewhat, sighing as he put his hat on his head. He nodded once. "Then I will make the arrangements." He moved past her towards the door.

"Wait." Rose caught his forearm.

What am I doing?

"I would like some time to think. Pray, would you do me the honor of returning on the morrow and we might discuss the arrangements then?"

The Duke glanced at her hand on his arm, a flash of something in his eyes. For a moment, Rose thought it was anger, but soon she realized it was surprise. Hastily, she dropped her hand.

"Apologies, Your Grace. I meant no offense." She felt a flush creep up her cheeks.

"None taken." The Duke was still staring at the spot where she had touched him. "I shall return tomorrow, and we will discuss everything then. I will speak to your parents once more, and then I shall depart. Good day, Miss Pembleton."

"Good day, Your Grace." Rose curtseyed as he walked out of the room.

She could still feel the firmness of his arm beneath her fingers, the unexpected warmth she had felt at the brief touch. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Her mind swam.

I am to marry the Duke of Emberly.

She looked at Abigail and saw the fear etched on her face. It was a look of pure terror, her already fair skin now deathly pale. The sight of the woman's stark terror hardened something in Rose's heart.

I will not be the helpless damsel in this story. My life may be over, but that does not mean I cannot make my sacrifice matter.

Rose found her mind suddenly clear. Nothing had changed, not really. She had always known she would marry to improve her family's standing and increase her sisters' chances of securing advantageous matches. And, after all, few could hope for a match better than a duke. She would be a duchess.

My sisters will not share my fate. I shall make sure they have the happiness they deserve.

Rose nodded to herself. She was not powerless. She would not let rumors control her life. She may be doomed to a loveless marriage, but she would not let anyone else see the truth. After all, if there was one thing she understood, it was how to use a dire situation to her advantage.