The Clarendon Rose (15 page)

She couldn’t marry Edmund now—not with this latest realization burning in her conscience.
 

Fool,
she raged at herself, still perilously close to tears as she realized what she had done—how much she had given up by forfeiting Edmund’s hand in this way.

And she knew full well that even if the duke wanted her enough to consider bedding her, not even this consuming love she felt would allow her to overcome the barriers her mother had built for her—at least, not yet.
 
She still had enough sense to understand that to give in to him would mark her own downfall, for he could never want to marry her.
 
And she would not only have betrayed the promise she made to Edmund, but also the promises she had made to her mother over the years.

She shook her head.
 
It was simply not to be borne—yet, it had to be.
 
She had no choice in the matter.
 
Of course, she would go to London immediately.
 
She dared not risk spending any more time in the duke’s company—and Edmund must be informed of her change of heart in person.

Tina sighed as she made her hasty way through the main hall, walking briskly to the staircase.
 
If it were possible, she wouldn’t return to the manor after speaking with Edmund.
 
The duke, as he had amply demonstrated over the last few days, would be able to work through the complexities of running the estate without her aid.
 
She was a convenience rather than a necessity in that regard.
 

Once in her room, she glanced at the small table beside her bed and felt a sense of reprieve.
 
For there, still, was the letter from Miss Smythe-Perkins.
 

Tina had intended to write to the woman this afternoon, explaining the circumstances and politely declining the offer of a position.
 
But, it seemed that instead, she would have the opportunity to respond to the letter in the affirmative—and in person.
 
She picked up the missive, examining the return address with mixed feelings.
 
While it was not as far from Loughton Manor—and its master—as she might have hoped, she supposed that any distance would be preferable to returning here.

She closed her eyes a moment, remembering how it had felt to have the duke pressed against her, the brush of his lips along the line of her jaw.
 
His callused hand caressing her nipple into a hard nub of desire.

Then, shaking herself, she reached under the bed, dragging out the dusty old trunk that had borne all her worldly possessions to Loughton Manor so many years ago.
 
It had been her mother’s before her.
 
Fortunately, she had little she needed to take with her, for the box was not a large one.
 

She packed with a brisk efficiency.
 
Then, summoning one of the footmen to her room, she asked that he order up the family carriage and have her box taken down.

She had decided there was no need for stealth.
 
If the duke found out and intercepted her, she’d tell him the literal truth: that she needed to see Edmund and that she had no intention of telling him about their recent indiscretion.
 

There’s really nothing else he need know,
she concluded, stuffing the letter from Miss Smythe-Perkins into her reticule.
 
Then, with a final glance around the room she had inhabited for the past eleven years and grown to love, she turned away.

Donning her traveling cloak, she swept down the main staircase.
 
“If the duke asks after me, please inform him that I have gone to London to speak with Lord Edmund,” she told Baker, one of the footmen on duty.

“Very good, Miss.”

Tina opened her eyes to darkness and the sense that the coach was slowing down.
 
The noise and bustle from outside told her that this was not another toll-gate.
 
Swallowing, she glanced out the window at the streets of the city.
 
She had asked to be taken to the family townhouse—despite her agitation, even she had known it would be inappropriate to call on Edmund at the duke’s private establishment, betrothed or otherwise.

So, once the vehicle had drawn to a stop and the door was opened for her, she alighted to find herself looking up at the London residence of the Duke of Clarendon’s family.
 
It was a grand house, constructed in the clean lines of the Classical tradition, but Tina didn’t waste any time contemplating the structure, even though she had never seen the place before.
 

Though Uncle Charles and Edmund had both urged her to join them on any number of visits, she had never been interested.
 
She had seen
 
enough of the city as a child, growing up in the dubious environs of the rookery at Rosemary Lane.

She ascended the pristine marble steps and nodded at the footman, who had already swept open the door to receive her.
 
Years ago, Uncle Charles had given commands that she was to be received as family at the London residence.
 
Given Tina’s previous lack of interest in visiting the city, the duchess must not have thought to countermand the order, should she have been so inclined.

“Is the duchess in?” she asked.

“She is, Miss.”

Tina sighed.
 
“Well, I see no reason to disturb her with news of my arrival.
 
And Lord Edmund?
 
Is he in residence?”

Upon being assured that he was not, Tina wasted no time in sending a note to Edmund at the duke’s townhouse, asking that he call on her at his earliest convenience.
 

Then, gathering her skirts, she nodded at the footman, who led her to her room.
 
Once there, she paced restlessly, unsure of what to do with herself as she waited for Edmund.

Fortunately, she did not have long to wait.
 
A discreet knock on the door had her following the footman down to the study.

As the man opened the door and gestured for her to enter, the agitation that had been animating her to this point rose up to rob her of the ability to speak.
 
She swallowed as Edmund came forward, his expression anxious.
 

With a brisk nod at the footman, who retreated behind the closed door, Edmund took her hands in his own and led her to a chair.
 
“What is it, Tina?
 
I knew it must be some kind of dire emergency to have you brave both London and Mother in one stroke.”

Tina felt the tears welling up at his concern, already cursing herself for her own idiocy.
 
How could she turn away from this kindness and affection?
 
But of course, she had to.
 
She would always love him, but now she knew without a doubt that she could never marry him.

“Edmund, have you obtained the license?”

He shook his head, his expression still intent.
 
“I’ve been meaning to, but—”

“Don’t,” she interjected, her face crumpling.

“My God, what is it, Tina?” he asked, passing her his handkerchief as he crouched beside her.
 
“What’s got you in such a state?”

Tina closed her eyes as she tried to summon up her composure.
 
Then, she looked at his wonderful face, which was now a study in concerned inquiry.
 

“We can’t get married, Edmund.
 
I know that now.
 
It wouldn’t be fair to you,” she blurted in a shaky voice.
 
Tears crept out from the corners of her eyes as she blinked, in spite of her best efforts to hold them at bay.

“What are you talking about, Tina?
 
I don’t understand.”

“It would be wrong.
 
I don’t love you that way, Edmund.
 
I love you as a brother, not a lover.
 
I can’t marry you,” she babbled, the words blurred by the weight of distress in the back of her throat.

“Tina, sweetheart,” he said, his voice suddenly firm, as he took both her hands in his.
 
“Calm down.
 
Take a deep breath.”
 
He waited until she complied.
 
“Now another.”
 
Again, he waited as she obeyed.
 
This breath was steadier than the first.
 
“Better?”

She nodded.

He smiled.
 
“Good.
 
Now, tell me what’s wrong.
 
You say you love me like a brother.
 
But that can’t have changed suddenly, from yesterday to today.
 
So there must be something else that has you upset.”

She sniffled, her expression still troubled.
 
“I thought it might be all right, Edmund, but it isn’t.
 
I had wanted to break it off before, but then you mentioned India, and I thought it might be fine after all.
 
But it won’t.”

He watched her closely as she spoke, a slow glimmer of comprehension brightening his features.
 
“I think I’m beginning to see,” he said, rising to his feet as he nodded slowly.
 
“You had planned to break off the engagement with me yesterday, hadn’t you?
 
That’s what you wanted to discuss.
 
Why?”

“I accepted for all the wrong reasons.
 
I was afraid of what I’d be facing without the security of marriage.
 
I do love you, just as I know you love me, but you deserve better.
 
You deserve passion and devotion—a soul mate rather than a mere companion.”

“I see.
 
But my talk of India changed things?”

Tina sighed.
 
“I suppose I felt that while you could have your pick of wife here, far fewer women would be willing to go to India—for any reason.
 
That you might genuinely need me there.
 
And somehow, that seemed to make things more acceptable.”
 
She shook her head, calmer now for having spoken about so many of the conflicts that had plagued her—and thanks to Edmund’s compassionate response.
 
She smiled ruefully.
 
“It may seem silly, but that’s what I started to think.
 
But now I realize that’s still not good enough.”

Edmund watched her, his expression keenly scrutinizing.
 
“But there’s more, isn’t there, Tina?”

“More?”
 
The guilt over her ungovernable feelings for Clarendon reared up and she swallowed, her eyes downcast.
 
The silence stretched out long enough for her to look up at him.
 
He was smiling, his lips a rueful twist.

“It’s that brother of mine, isn’t it?
 
When we were younger you used to wear the willow for him, I remember.
 
If ever I mentioned him, you’d suddenly look dreamy for a few moments while you wandered off in your thoughts.
 
I used to like to mention him just to watch that little process—it quite amused me, you know.
 
Then you got old enough to hide that reaction, thereby depriving me of one of my little diversions.”

Tina was shocked at his perception.
 
“Edmund…”

He shook his head, settling in an adjacent chair.
 
“It’s all right, my sweet.
 
I suppose you’re right about us.
 
I do love you and always will.
 
But you’re the sister I never had.
 
It’s just that Father and I both worried about your future and I figured the best way to see you safely settled was to do the proposing myself.”
 
She saw he was grinning.
 
“I had hoped to make it work because you’re such a delightful fellow after all.”

“Yes.
 
We do make good company for each other,” she agreed, smiling.

“So have you fallen in love with him then, Tina?”

She nodded, the smile fading.
 
“I only realized it today.
 
It happened so fast, Edmund.
 
I don’t understand it at all.”

He sighed.
 
“I hear love can be that way, but what can I say about it, really?”

A brief silence.

“Does he know?”

She shook her head.
 
“Of course not.
 
I’m not the sort of woman he would want to marry.
 
You know that.”

“And why do I know that?”

“Let’s not talk about it.
 
I’d rather he didn’t know how I feel, that’s all.”

He sighed.
 
“All right, Tina my love.
 
I won’t breathe a word of it.
 
Not that I would have anyway.”
 

“Are you still going to India?”

He grinned, getting up from the chair to pace about the room.
 
“I am.
 
It should be no more than…” he trailed off, making a mental calculation before continuing, “…about a month before everything is in order.
 
Monty’s heading off tomorrow, though.”

Tina smiled at his obvious excitement.
 
“It should be a fascinating experience, Edmund.
 
I
am
excited for you.”

He paused to bestow a teasing glance upon her.
 
“No regrets, Tina?”

“A few, I suppose.
 
I would love to see the place.
 
But I think I’m an Englishwoman at heart, and I would have missed the green fields and rolling countryside if we had settled there for any length of time.
 
Even thinking about leaving and I started to get mawkish about the old country.”