“Can’t I?” Rose looked searchingly at Mary. “Could I have moved on so quickly if he had left me in the same way? Would I have sought the arms of another that fast? Would I have ever got over it?”
“I guess he thought you had.”
“Yes, I guess he did.”
“But it seems you didn’t,” Mary said.
Rose just shook her head as the tears fell again into her lap.
“I went to Almack’s for supper and saw him dancing with her. She is still around. She’s a countess. I walked into the dancing room, and saw him, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if my lungs had drained completely.”
“Was she pretty?” Mary asked.
“Very,” Rose nodded.
“Well, at least you outrank her,” Mary forced a laugh and grabbed Rose and hugged her. “Listen, there has to be a way. I will find a way.”
“He deserves a wife who will love him, young enough to give him a clutch of children. Someone he can trust.”
“Do you honestly believe there is anyone better for Will than you? You were joined at the hip!”
“Until I cut the link.”
Mary stared back at her, helplessly
“I would rather marry Ernest,” Rose said then.
“You would rather take him in your bed than Will?”
“Life gives you what you deserve.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t deserve him, Mary. He was a lovely, pure, innocent, loyal soul. He would no more have hurt me than shoot his horse. You don’t get to destroy someone like that and not bear the consequences.”
Mary stood up suddenly.
“I need to go home. I need to talk to Jacob.”
“Mary, seriously, don’t get involved. Just be there for me. I am going to need you both so much.”
“I can’t support your marriage to the Duke, Rose. If it was me, I would sleep on the streets rather than marry him. And you don’t have to. You have us. If you want our love and support, you have to abandon the Duke.”
“Are you serious?” Rose was shocked.
“Quite serious. Someone has to get through to you.”
She stared at Rose, and then without saying anything, she turned on her heel and left the room without even saying goodbye.
CHAPTERTEN
Rose stood up and moved over to one of the windows, looking out across the internal courtyard. She watched as her sister climbed into her waiting carriage, and then it moved off towards the main entrance.
She was alone then. So be it. She hoped her father would be proud of her for protecting his family, for accepting her fate so stoically.
But even Rose understood that philosophical acceptance of a course of action did not imply having to endure it. The thought of Ernest Barrington putting his hands on her body made her tremble with fear. The thought of those thin, mean lips pressing against hers and his tongue, which would no doubt taste of tobacco and alcohol, thrusting into her mouth as he grabbed at the softest parts of her with those gnarly hands made her heave.
She had taken to imagining making love with Ernest rather than Will as she lay in bed at night in a bid to inure herself in advance. She would picture everything he might do to her and play it in her head so that when it did happen, she would have already built up an insulation against it. But she wouldn’t know if it had worked until the wedding night. She actually wished that night would come sooner, so she didn’t have to go through another week of dread. She prayed that whatever she was imagining was far worse than the real thing.