Parfit Knight (32 page)

Rosalind
submitted docilely to these ministrations, her breath still
catching faintly and, when he put the dampened cambric in her
hands, she used it for the prosaic and unselfconscious purpose of
blowing her nose, before saying huskily, ‘That was very stupid of
me. I’m sorry. I can’t think what made me do it.’

‘Can’t you?’ He
drew her gently to sit beside him on a sofa and possessed himself
of both of her hands. ‘And I thought it was my crassly ill-timed
hilarity.’

His voice was
bitter and she flinched at the sound of it.

‘Don’t –
please! I know you didn’t mean it.’

‘Do you? I’d be
happy to think so – but it isn’t true, is it? You are doubtless
thinking me all manner of things but never that what I failed so
lamentably to say just now was not that my sense of guilt prompted
me to marriage … but that it was responsible for making a coward of
me.’

She tilted her
head and a grave, considering expression entered the violet
eyes.

‘A coward? You?
I don’t think I understand.’

‘No,’ he
agreed, taking the handkerchief from her and turning it over and
over between his hands. ‘But that is why, once I realised what had
happened, I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell you the truth about
the accident. I was afraid, you see, of what your reaction might be
… afraid to hear you say all the things I’ve been saying to
myself.’

A strange sense
of tranquillity entered Rosalind’s heart. She said, ‘That was …
foolish of you.’

He smiled
faintly. ‘Possibly. But not as foolish as proposing marriage purely
in an attempt to placate one’s conscience.’

‘Then you
didn’t mean to do so?’

‘No. Coward, I
may be – lunatic, I’m not.’ He rose and walked away a little. Then,
looking at her, ‘Aren’t you going to ask what my reason was? No – I
can see you’re not. Perhaps you don’t care … or would rather not
know. I’m sorry if it’s the latter because, having come this far, I
think we must finish it. And the truth is what you must already
have known before Philip put other ideas in your head.’ He paused
and, with a crooked smile, added, ‘I love you …
à corps
perdu
, as my mother would say. And you have no idea how much
that is.’

‘Oh I think I
have,’ replied Rosalind with a tiny, uncertain laugh. ‘But are you
quite sure? It isn’t – you aren’t – ‘

‘Sorry for
you?’ he finished crisply. ‘I thought you knew me better than
that.’

‘I did … I
do.’

‘Then why ask
it? If you marry me, I’ll make no more allowances than I did at
Oakleigh –less, perhaps. I’m not proposing to be your eyes – though
I’d give you mine if I could. But I can’t. And unless you love me,
I’ve nothing at all to offer. For the simple fact is that it’s I
who need you and not the other way about. But only,’ he repeated,
‘if you love me. I don’t think I can settle for less.’

Very slowly,
Rosalind came to her feet. ‘You don’t need to,’ she said simply,
stretching out a hand towards him. ‘You’ll never need to. But I
wish …’

The grey-green
eyes blazed but he did not move. ‘Yes?’

‘I wish you
weren’t so far away,’ she complained gently.

His fingers
closed around hers with careful restraint. He said, ‘I should warn
you that, if I come any closer, I’m likely to behave with a
deplorable lack of propriety.’

‘Oh?’ She
flushed and stepped towards him, smiling. ‘Then … why don’t
you?’

And as though
that had been all he had waited for, she was drawn inexorably into
his arms, so close that she did not know if it was his heart she
could feel beating or her own and with her head tilted easily back
by his hand sliding up into her hair. A second passed, then two,
three … and in a voice that was no more than a breathed caress, he
murmured, ‘Rosalind, my beautiful darling … will you marry me?’

‘Yes. Oh yes.
Tomorrow, if y—‘

But the words
were lost as his mouth found hers and the floor beneath her feet
dissolved.

Her bones
melted and she clung to him, lost and drowning under the slow,
sweet delight of his kiss; darkness and doubt ceased to exist and
the world shrank to the compass of his arms where nothing mattered
except the drugging wonder of his nearness and the feel of his
hair, tangled in her fingers. And when at last his mouth left hers
and she felt the lean hardness of his cheek against her own, she
said the thing which, above all others, he had waited to hear.

‘My heart, my
soul … I love you.’

*

It was a long
time before they were ready to leave privacy behind them and join
the others. But finally they went together to receive the blessing
that they knew Eloise would give them. And later, with joy still
wrapped about them, Rosalind went confidently in the shelter of
Dominic’s arm to find her brother.

Philip released
Isabel’s hand and stood up, watching the Marquis bring his sister
across the room. And suddenly, seeing the expression in the
grey-green eyes as they rested on Rosalind, all the tensions and
misunderstandings of the last few weeks seemed to fade into
nothing. It was hard to know how he had been so blind; but, because
Amberley was Amberley, he realised it need not matter. He smiled
and said easily, ‘You appear to have found something you thought
lost. Are congratulations in order?’

Quite slowly,
the Marquis withdrew his gaze from Rosalind and turned it on his
lordship.

‘They are. But
I think we would prefer your blessing.’

‘They’re both
yours.’ Philip walked half-way towards him and then stopped. ‘And
my most sincere apologies, too, for everything I said and did. And
thought. I don’t offer you excuses for any of it – I don’t think
there can be any. But you may like to know that I’ve learned a
valuable lesson. And I sincerely beg your pardon – Rosalind’s
too.’

His sister
smiled. ‘Mine, you have.’

‘And mine.’ The
Marquis relinquished Rosalind’s waist and went to meet Lord Philip.
‘You had every justification for what you thought – more, perhaps
than I had for not explaining myself. But, unlike you, I doubt I
shall be found to have profited from the experience – so I can only
be grateful that others,’ he smiled at Isabel, ‘have better sense
than I do myself. In any event, I should be pleased to count myself
your friend.’

And, when he
held out his hand, Philip grinned and took it without
hesitation.

It was the end
of formality and soon the new freedom from constraint was as
evident in their silences as in their talk. But at length, Isabel
said lazily, ‘Philip – you should tell them about Robert.’

Philip laughed
and met Amberley’s eye.

‘I found him
hovering on the brink of being clapped up for debt so I solved all
our problems by acting on a very good piece of advice you once gave
me.’

‘Oh?’ The
Marquis raised an enquiring brow and settled his arm more closely
about Rosalind. ‘And what was that?’

‘I’ve made a
present of him to the army. I thought,’ said his lordship
innocently, ‘that they might be better able to deal with him.’

Amberley
laughed and Rosalind raised her head from his shoulder to say
resignedly, ‘And I suppose you also paid his debts?’

‘Oh – that.’
Philip shrugged. ‘Well, yes. I had to. Which reminds me … the silly
fool owes Rockliffe a thousand from some wager or other.’

‘Does he?’ The
Marquis drew Rosalind’s head back to its resting place. ‘Then you
may leave that to me. I feel sure that Rock will be happy to
contribute his mite to the general cause … and I really don’t see
why he should come off unscathed. Do you?’

‘Not, really.
No.’

‘I think,’
observed Rosalind, ‘that you’re both quite unscrupulously
devious.’

‘But clever,’
added Isabel, ‘in a ruthless sort of way.’

Amberley looked
cheerfully across at Philip.

‘How fortunate
we are to be so perfectly understood. But there is just one small
detail that still troubles me and that I feel we ought, perhaps, to
discuss.’

‘And what is
that?’ asked his lordship, his polite tone belied by the laughter
in his eyes. ‘You know, I hope, that if there is anything I can do,
you have but to name it.’

The Marquis
grinned.

‘I’m so glad
you said that,’ he replied pleasantly. ‘Because I was just
wondering which of us was going to have custody of Broody.’

If you have
enjoyed ‘The Parfit Knight’

and would like
to follow the fortunes of the Duke of Rockliffe,

look out for
‘The Mésalliance’

Also by Stella
Riley

‘The Marigold
Chain’

Historical
Note

White’s Club
first opened its doors in 1693 as Mrs White’s Chocolate House. It
was still occupying its original premises in Chesterfield Street at
the time ‘The Parfit Knight’ is set and did not relocate to St
James Street until 1778.

Louis XV died
on May 10th 1774 of smallpox. Due to fear of contamination, his
body was not embalmed and nor was his heart removed as tradition
demanded. Instead, alcohol was poured into the coffin and the
remains soaked in quicklime. He was interred under cover of
darkness at St Denis Basilica, attended by only one courtier.

Stella
Riley

2012