Rosalinde heard the true anxiety in her sister’s tone and squeezed her a little harder. “I’m so sorry. That dratted storm came up from nowhere and stranded us at this little inn.”
She said no more, not sharing the secrets of her stolen night with her sister any more than she’d shared them with her maid. Celia would no more breathe a word than Gertie would, but Rosalinde still wished to hold her memories close to her heart.
“That must have been awful,” Celia said, hurrying her toward the roaring fire to warm up. “Was it a very terrible night?”
Rosalinde bit her lip as she held her hands up to be warmed by the flames. “No. Not at all.”
She looked around the room to keep her mind from wandering. It was a fine chamber, well suited for the future Countess of Stenfax. No expense had been spared in the furnishings or silky bedclothes.
“Let me help you undress, you must be exhausted,” Celia said, moving behind her to unfasten her gown.
For a brief moment, Rosalinde had a clear picture of Mr. Gray doing exactly the same thing, his rough fingers brushing her skin. She jolted and tried to shake the memory off.
“Are you all right?” her sister asked. “That was a great shiver.”
“It was not a pleasant ride,” Rosalinde gasped. “That carriage is drafty.”
“Well, now you’re here. No more unpleasantness to be found,” Celia said as she unbuttoned the dress.
Rosalinde shrugged out of it as her sister moved to the wardrobe across the room and drew out a nightgown for her to wear. As Celia approached, Rosalinde looked at her evenly.
“I’m not certain I believe you. Was Grandfather angry when I did not arrive last night as planned?”
Celia didn’t have to answer for Rosalinde to know what she’d say. Her sister blanched and her gaze darted away before she let out a long sigh. “Yes. He blustered fiercely, even when Stenfax tried to explain the weather was to blame. Even his own brother couldn’t make it until earlier today andhewas on horseback.”
“His brother?” Rosalinde said, sliding her shift aside and taking the nightgown from her sister.
“Rosalinde!” Celia cried. “What are those bruises?”
Rosalinde froze and let her gaze slowly slide down her body. There were bruises on her hips. Finger-sized bruises that told her a tale of a strong man holding her while she rode him. Her cheeks flamed and she shoved her nightgown on to cover herself.
“I-I don’t know. The ride was very bumpy,” she said. “I must have rattled around.”
“I’m sorry,” Celia said. “How awful for you. I tried so hard to convince Grandfather to let you come with us when we came here almost two weeks ago, but you know him.”
“Yes,” Rosalinde said softly. “He made it clear he was punishing me by leaving me behind.”
Celia folded her arms, frustration clear on her face. “If he had done as I asked, you never would have had to endure last night.”
Rosalinde turned her face. Celia would never know that Rosalinde wouldn’t give up last night for anything.
“It is no use blustering over what has already happened. But what is this about Stenfax’s brother? I didn’t even know he had one,” Rosalinde hurried to say, hoping the change of subject would distract her sister from other dangerous topics.
The color slowly drained from Celia’s face and she let out a shuddering sigh. “Well, he does. And the man doesn’t like me.”
Rosalinde drew back in surprise. “Why? He hasn’t ever met you before, has he? I’m certain I would recall meeting him, or you would have told me if you met him without me in attendance.”
Celia’s frown grew longer. “No, I’ve never met the man until this afternoon when he arrived. He has business in the North, Stenfax says. That’s why we never crossed paths until today. I thought I’d told you about him, but I guess I never thought it very important for the few times Stenfax spoke of him. But he was smiling when he entered the room…until he heardmyname. I could tell he didn’t like me at once.”
“How?”
Celia shivered. “He grew very cold.”
Rosalinde shook her head. She couldn’t believe someone wouldn’t like Celia. Her younger sister was a sweet, lovely woman with a kind heart and an intelligent mind. There had to be another explanation.
“Some men are just like that, Celia,” she said, reaching out to grasp her sister’s hand. She could tell Celia was truly troubled by this development and wanted to ease her pain. “Especially ones who come from such families. Coldness is sometimes bred into them.”
“But it’s more than his distant reaction,” Celia said, her stare moving to her feet. “At supper I caught him…glaringat me.”
