Page 11 of Trapped with the Beastly Duke

He hesitated a moment. To her credit, the young woman whose necklace had caught in his cravat a moment before did not scream, nor did she feint.

Though she looks as though she might.

As soon as she saw him stop, she, too, turned on her heel and fled.

“Drat,” Alexander cursed under his breath.

He ran a hand over his cravat, feeling the tiny tears from her necklace. The look of fear on her face, it was as though she was seeing a monster. Shame and anger swelled in his chest.

What right has she to treat me like this?

He threw his hands up in exasperation and began to make his way towards the carriage. He knew that if he re-entered the ballroom, the whispers would worsen. His ire rose at the thought, but he violently shoved it down.

Let them think I am some brute. I do not need to prove it.

He did not care if he offended his hosts. He could not bear another moment among the so-called high society. The hypocrisy of it all!

I should never have left Emberly House.

As he climbed into the carriage, he let out a frustrated growl and buried his face in his hands. As he did so, he breathed in a warm citrusy smell that reminded him of something from his childhood. It was clearly the scent of Miss Pembleton’s perfume, but it tickled his memory.

Puzzled, he inhaled the scent, realizing with a jolt that it reminded him of the orangery at Emberly Castle when it was in bloom. It had always been a scent he enjoyed. He loved the contrast of winter—a barren, hibernating world—with an orange tree determined to fruit.

Those trees are long since dead or dying.

The carriage rocked from side to side, jolting him out of his thoughts. He looked up, expecting to see either his mother or his sister. Yet, to his surprise, he found himself looking at the ashen face of Nigel Maxton.

“Is it true?” Nigel asked, confusion and concern etched on his face. “Is what they are saying true?”

“And what exactly are they saying now? They say so much about me that I can scarcely keep up.” Alexander’s voice was flat and dispassionate.

“Do not be coy with me, Rokesby. Everyone is saying that you were in the maze with Miss Rose Pembleton… That you were… That you were kissing her.” Nigel shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his cravat.

So, that is her name. Rose Pembleton.

“I see rumors travel fast.” Alexander scowled. “That much has not changed. How refreshing.”

“Rokesby, is it true? Please, tell me the rumors are baseless.” Nigel’s eyes narrowed, anger coloring his voice. “She is not just the Diamond of the Season, but she is the daughter of the Viscount Cotswalts. She has sisters, Rokesby. Please, tell me you were not kissing her in the gardens!”

“What does it matter?” Alexander shrugged. “Their minds are already made up. The truth is immaterial.”

“It matters to me.” Nigel ran a hand through his hair, breathing slowly. When he spoke, his anger had ebbed away, replaced by earnest warmth. “Pray, tell me what happened.”

“We were in the maze, that much is true. But nothing untoward happened.” Alexander tried to keep the pain out of his voice. “I would not do that to a young woman. I have no wish to cause scandal, much less on the night of my sister’s debut. The only reason I left was toavoidcausing a scene.”

“Well, I must say your idea of avoiding scandal leaves much to be desired.” Nigel shook his head, confusion still in his voice. “Yet, how has Miss Carstairs come to such a sordid conclusion?”

Alexander dropped his head in his hands. “I was distracted. Not looking where I was going. And well… we collided—Miss Pembleton and myself, I mean, not Miss Carstairs. Her damned necklace caught in my cravat.” He gestured to his disheveled cravat. “I had almost freed us when the queen of rumor-mongering herself appeared. She saw us, and before we could explain, she ran.”

“Miss Carstairs is claiming you tried to kill her to silence her.” Nigel raised an eyebrow.

“I only took a step towards her. I wanted to explain what she had witnessed, to try and fix some of the harm done. Yet, she took flight as though I meant her harm.” Alexander let out a bitter laugh. “Perhaps I should have, then I would not have ruined an innocent woman’s life.”

“I suspect the murder of Miss Carstairs would only add to the scandal, rather than detract from it, Rokesby.” Nigel’s words held an emotion that Alexander could not place. “Besides, only a monster would harm a woman.”

“Then I am a monster. I may not have physically harmed Miss Pembleton, but that is of little consequence now.” Alexander slammed his fist into the side of the carriage, startling the horses. “I have doomed the poor girl. No one will marry her after tonight’s events.”

“That is quite unlikely, it is true. Yet, all is not lost.” Nigel gave Alexander a serious look. “You could marry her.”