Rosalyn smiled to herself, the compliment to her family bringing a vestige of warmth to her heart.
“I wonder what happened?” Georgina was saying as she tugged on her white velvet dress. “She sounds so angry. And it’s Christmas Day.”
“Some customer was rude, I suppose,” Isabel said quietly, donning a green velvet gown. “I suppose it must happen all the time.”
Rosalyn tugged on her dark red gown. As she tied her hair back in a ribbon, an urgent knocking on the door made her frown.
“Daughter? Daughter! Are you awake?”
It was Papa.
Rosalyn’s frown deepened as she hurried to the door. She opened it a crack. Georgina, who was still arranging her hair, shrieked. Rosalyn stuck her head around the door.
“Papa? What is the matter?”
“You’re awake. Good. There is...um...there is a visitor downstairs.” Papa’s expression was pained, his brow lined with worry.
“Whatever is the matter?” Rosalyn’s heart thudded. “Whoever is it?” A horrible thought occurred to her. It was Lord Winbrook. It must be. Only that could make Papa look so worried. Or mayhap an emissary from the duchess herself, come to stir up trouble.
Her father wet his lips. “Best if you come down, my dear,” he said carefully.
“Tell her to stay put,” Sebastian yelled from the stairwell. “I’ll break this scoundrel’s head if he tries to...”
“Rosalyn!” A voice shouted. It was a voice that made Rosalyn’s heart stop. Middle-register, soft and melting. She would have known it anywhere. Her soul soared; her throat tight with sudden emotion. “Rosalyn! Wait! Let me speak.” Callum shouted.
“I’ll tell this dastardly fool to return to the hole he crawled from,” Sebastian said from the hallway. His face appeared in the gap as he marched up the stairs, two spots of anger flushing his pale cheeks. His dark eyes blazed with fury. “Just let me handle him, sister.”
“No.” Rosalyn shook her head. “No. I shall go down.”
“Rosalyn...” Sebastian gaped at her. “Why would you?”
Rosalyn shook her head, reaching for her coat, which was hanging on the back of the door to dry.
“I shall only be a moment,” she assured her sisters and hurried downstairs. They rushed after her, then she heard the sound of their feet stop on the stairs.
Rosalyn carried on, running to the bottom of the stairs. Hope flared in her heart. Her soul was soaring above her. She ran to the door and cried out as the duke, Callum, grabbed her. He lifted her up, crushing her against his chest in an embrace so strong, so urgent, that it knocked the breath from her.
“Rosalyn!” he cried. His voice was rough with emotion. “Rosalyn.”
“Callum,” she croaked. “Callum. You’re here.”
“I travelled all day. And all of the next day. I had to find you. I had to. You’re here. Oh, God be praised!”
He set her down gently on her feet and his arms tightened around her, drawing her close. Rosalyn leaned against him, her heart melting as he held her in his tight embrace. He stroked her hair and she leaned against him. She held him close, the scent of him warm in her nostrils, his closeness a balm that dissolved the walls of pain around her. She hugged him tightly.
“How did you come to be here? Why did you follow us?” she asked, leaning back and looking up at him.
“I had to,” Callum said softly. “I am blessed with a sister who overhears things,” he added with a faint smile. At that moment, the front door creaked open, and a woman’s face appeared, her hair hidden beneath a white fur-lined hood.
“Callum? Brother? Oh! Miss Rothwell! You’re here!” Lady Harriet’s pale face flushed delicately pink. “I am so grateful you’re here!”
Callum gazed at Rosalyn. She gazed back. His grey eyes were wide and unclouded, their depths honest and true.
“Rosalyn,” he said softly. “I was a fool. I have been such a fool. Can you forgive me?” He took her hand. His gaze moved to her fingers. He lifted them, kissing the knuckles. She closed her eyes. His kiss seemed to spiral down her nerves, lighting them with incandescent warmth. She gazed at him, heart thudding.
“I can forgive you,” she said, just a little playfully. “But you have to tell me what happened. How did you come to be here? How did you find us?” Her eyes widened with surprise.
“That was easy enough,” Callum said gently. “Though I was sick with worry. You should not have travelled so far. I never expected you to venture so far on the road, especially in this weather. I cannot quite forgive my mother. She should never have let you go in these conditions.” His face darkened with a mix of anger and concern, but then his expression softened. “As to the former, I came here because Harriet told me the truth. I cannot believe I ever thought otherwise. I was a fool. I should never have believed him. I truly hope you can forgive me.”
