Page 12 of Her Rogue of a Duke
A surge of excitement filled her. At last! She would finally have the chance to speak with him and explain her situation, and her hope was that by the end of the evening, before she returned to the Duke’s residence that night, she would hopefully have her engagement secured.
She hurried forward, her lips curling into a small smile, but when she heard a second voice, she paused.
"Goodness, my lord, you are quite forward tonight," a woman’s voice playfully chided.
The viscount’s chuckle followed. “How could I not be? You have been tempting me all evening.”
Furrowing her brow, Francesca eased forward, her frown deepening. The voices led her to a room with a closed door, behind which the muffled conversation and laughter continued, the tones suggesting they were trying to keep their presence discreet.
Realization dawned on Francesca just then; theyhadto be alone. It was horribly improper, and she felt a ball of anxiety build up in her stomach. What could they possibly be doing alone? Why had Lord Terrell allowed himself to be put in such a compromising situation?
Francesca hesitated outside the door for almost a minute, too nervous to open it right away. Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, she finally reached for the door handle. Holding her breath now, she turned it and pushed open the door.
Lord Terrell was indeed inside, alone with a lady… who he was holding tight against his body, his lips pressed against hers. The two were locked in a passionate kiss, their eyes closed so they did not notice Francesca at first.
When she gasped in shock, however, the viscount’s eyes flew open and landed on hers. He immediately disentangled himself from the lady and looked at Francesca, his expression one of utter shock.
For a few tense seconds, they simply stared at each other, Francesca’s heart plummeting and stealing all of her breath withit. Snapping out of her shock, she picked up her skirts and fled the room.
“Francesca!” Lord Terrell’s voice called after her, but she paid him no heed, hastening down the corridor to get away from him. He was swift, though, and quickly caught up, seizing her by the arm to halt her escape. “Francesca, please, hear me out. Let me explain. This is just a misunderstanding.”
It was not, and Francesca knew it. She might have been naïve, but she was certainly no fool. Glaring at him, unable to utter any words lest she break into a sob, she pulled her arm free from his grasp and continued to flee. The pain and hurt she had been feeling since the previous day were now intertwined with anger towards Lord Terrell for his duplicity. He was not the man she had thought him to be. She was humiliated and at a loss as to what she would do next. He had been her only viable option for marriage.
Now, she was alone, with no one to turn to. Yet, the thought of binding herself to such a deceitful man for life was intolerable. Tears welled in her eyes, but with a defiant swipe of her sleeve, she refused them the satisfaction of falling. Her heart thudded in her chest as the sound of her name on his lips now grew fainter with each step.
“Even a wilting flower can reach for the sun,” she continued to mumble under her breath.
It was a phrase her father had often used to encourage her in times of self-doubt or despair. In that moment, she desperatelyneeded that reminder. Needed her father’s words to fortify her so she did not break apart bit by bit. She needed to keep her head up and continue moving forward. One way or another, she would not let this setback cause her ruin.
Joshua found his eyes lingering involuntarily to the door Francesca had disappeared through. It had been quite some time, and she had not yet returned. Where could she be? A flicker of concern ignited in him. He just hoped she had not been impulsive and gotten herself trapped in some compromising situation.
“Your Grace? Did you catch that?”
Blinking, Joshua turned back to the group he was standing beside. Lady Susan was gazing up at him expectantly, but he had no idea what it was she had asked him.
“My apologies, I was a tad distracted,” he confessed. “Could you repeat that?”
She looked momentarily irritated, but then she quickly shifted her expression back to her congenial smile. He knew many gentlemen found it charming, but it stirred nothing within him. Benedict was standing on Lady Susan’s other side and shooting Joshua a curious grin.
“I was just commenting on the disparity between these rural gatherings and the grandeur of London's balls,” Lady Susan remarked slowly, enunciating each word with carefully and with perfection that it all sounded like a drawl to Joshua’s ears. “These country affairs have their charm, but they pale in comparison to the elegance and excitement of a ball in Town. Wouldn't you agree?”
Joshua arched a brow. Such a question was rather pointless in his mind, but he knew he had to maintain a sense of decorum in such a gathering.
“I do find a certain charm in country balls,” he replied with a small shrug. “The hustle and bustle of town can be rather… overstimulating, at times.”
“Oh… I see,” Lady Susan murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment at his lack of enthusiasm.
Joshua let out a long breath and glanced once more at the door Francesca had not yet re-emerged from. Where, precisely, was she?
“Something on your mind, Elmcroft?” Benedict asked, pulling Joshua back into the group once more. “You seem out of sorts this evening, old boy. A lady catch your eye, or rather…?”
Joshua looked back at Benedict, who was still grinning at him, clearly enjoying some joke playing inside his head, while Lady Susan wore a deep scowl pointed at his friend.
Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, Joshua replied, “I just need some air. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He disregarded Benedict’s chuckle and Lady Susan’s squeak of protest as he turned and headed straight for the door, following Francesca’s path from earlier. If she were in some sort of trouble, he felt duty-bound to rescue her from it, as she was his guest after all. He had an obligation to her. That was all this was. It was a matter of duty, nothing more.
As he navigated down the corridor, wondering where Francesca had disappeared to, he suddenly heard voices approaching. They sounded tense and hurried, as though they were arguing. After a moment, he recognized the Viscount of Hucklow, Lord Terrell’s voice, though not the lady on his arm.