Page 133 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“Rosalind.”

“I trusted you.”

There it was.

Not an accusation that he had betrayed her deliberately.

Something worse. She had trusted him, and he had been wrong.

William took another step toward her. “I have never lied to you.”

“I know.”

Again, the answer hurt more than if she had called him a liar.

“But how can I tell you what I discover when you cannot know what your own brother is hiding from you?” She glanced toward Aldermere House. “I cannot risk my father’s life because I want to believe you.”

William had no answer.

Because she was right. He hated that she was right.

Rosalind seemed to see the realization in his face, and her own expression crumpled for the briefest instant before she looked away.

“This has to end.”

His stomach tightened. “What does?”

“Our arrangement.”

William stared at her.

“The courtship is over.”

He had known precisely what their courtship was from the beginning. A convenience. A performance. A means of allowing them to investigate together without inviting scandal.

He had not realized until that moment how little it felt like any of those things anymore.

“Rosalind, don’t. Please.”

Her gaze snapped back to his.

The words had escaped before he could temper them. For one suspended moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Rosalind looked away and reached for the gloves Nelly had placed beside the blanket. “I have to find my father.”

“Then let me help you.”

“You can’t.”

Two words.

Quietly spoken.

They hurt more than they had any right to.

She pulled on her gloves with fingers that trembled slightly. “I have spent weeks searching the places gentlemen search. Clubs. Auctions. Drawing rooms. And every useful thing we have learned has come from someone society barely notices.”

Her gaze moved to Nelly.