Page 36 of Once Upon a Devilish Duke

Rose turned slowly, revulsion coursing through her veins. “Cecil. Why are you here?”

“It’s Brookhaven now,” he sneered in her face. “Is it my fault my sister is refusing to see sense so I must drag myself to these infernal balls?”

Rose wanted to laugh. “See sense?”

“You are under my protection. I am your brother. I will decide what is best for you.”

“We have had this discussion.” She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her arm in a tight grip. “I am of age and have independent funds,” she said, trying to escape his bruising grasp on her arm. “I do not need your protection.”

“Are you sure you have independent funds? I believe you will find yourself quite in a pickle if you have put anything on credit. I will see to it that every merchant in town will not serve you after I tell them that your credit is no good.”

Rose froze. Every fiber of her being was strung tight. Could he have truly succeeded in carrying out his threat? Surely not. Her father told her his will was unchangeable. Cecil must be bluffing. Then why would he want to slander her good name, their good name, to every shopkeeper in London?

“My finances are fine. If you have tampered with Father’s…”

“Father was naïve. It is amazing what you can do when you simply change solicitors. Ones that have no loyalty to a dead man. Solicitors who know I am the earl now.” He let go of her arm, but there was a red band where his fingers had been on her skin. “My door is open, sister. I will hear your apologies then.” With that last statement, he left her. The footman holding the tray gave her a sympathetic expression.

She should have known he would try something like this. Could it be true? Could he so easily overturn a specific instruction in a will simply by changing law firms? She needed to talk to the duke. He would know, but she didn’t want to talk to him right now. Maybe later when she had cooled down a little. She took another lemonade and made her way back to the terrace doors. Marianne and her brother had reappeared.

“I was worried,” Rose said, handing her the other glass.

“I spoke with Dunstan,” she said.

Rose looked up sharply at Warrington.

“I merely chaperoned,” he said in his defense.

“It was needed. I am glad we have spoken; now perhaps we can start again.” She took a sip of her lemonade.

“So, you have forgiven him?”

“Not totally, but we shall see.”

“Why is your arm so red?” the duke said, lifting her arm for a closer inspection.

“And you are as white as a ghost,” Marianne supplied.

“Cecil,” she said. “He caught me at the refreshment table. He said he has changed solicitors and therefore he has changed my access to my allowance and possibly my dowry too. Is that something he can do? My father reassured me he could not, but…” The duke was still looking at her arm, his face red with anger. “And he threatened to make my name mud in every shop in London. Why would he go to so much trouble?”

“I think I may need to have words with your brother.”

She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “You cannot, for he left. I think he was only attending to wait for an opportunity to get me alone. I should never have left the dowager.”

He looked down at her hand on his sleeve. “No, it was foolish of you, but I was distracted and therefore was not here to do my duty, and that was my fault.”

She removed her hand. “That is not true. Marianne’s happiness is more important than my brother’s threats. Believe me, I’ve heard them all.” She worried her lower lip. “Could Cecil actually change my father’s wishes, though?”

“I’m not sure. In theory, he should not, but I will have my solicitors look at your father’s will. He didn’t mention who his new solicitors were by any chance?”

Rose shook her head. “If I do not have that allowance…” Tears sprang in her eyes, but she was in the middle of a ballroom with her next dance partner already on his way across the room.

“I will make sure you have what you are entitled to. Do not worry until it is time to.”

Easy for him to say, she thought. Putting on a smile, she curtsied to Lord DuPont and let him escort her onto the dance floor. He was a handsome young man with an amiable smile and curly black hair, but he was shorter than she, and it made dancing slightly awkward. Something she had not considered would be a problem. She had not realized how much taller she was than most of the women in London. And most of the men, by the looks of it. Still, the conversation was light, and she laughed when appropriate.

She did the same with her other dance partners. All were very nice, but not one sparked her interest. She hoped that with time she might get to know some of them more, but she might not have the rest of the season if her brother had anything to do with it.

Marianne was more her lighthearted self, no doubt due to her conversation with Lord Dunstan. Rose was happy for her, even if she still felt that she had not gotten the whole story from her friend. It stung a little that Marianne did not trust her enough to tell her everything.