Page 196 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“Nor am I,” Edmund called from inside the cell, “unless someone finally remembers that I am still locked behind these bars.”

Isabella turned toward him with a startled expression before looking down at the ring in her hand. “The keys.”

She hurried to the cell and began trying them in the lock until one finally turned with a heavy metallic click.

The door opened.

Edmund stepped through, and for one suspended moment Rosalind forgot everything except the sight of her father standing on the other side of those bars.

He was free.

“Rosalind.”

Her vision blurred.

For weeks, she had imagined finding him. She had imagined throwing herself into his arms, holding him tightly enough to convince herself that he was truly there and never allowing him out of her sight again.

Now only a few yards separated them.

William made a small sound of pain in her lap.

Edmund’s gaze dropped to him, then returned to his daughter, and understanding passed across his face.

“Stay with him.”

Rosalind swallowed hard, torn between the father she had spent weeks desperately trying to find and the man bleeding in her arms.

“Papa…”

“I am here.” Edmund’s own eyes shone as he looked at her. “And I am not going anywhere.”

Rosalind managed a small nod before Gabriel and the magistrate began moving Algernon toward the cell. He went without resistance, and somehow that unsettled her more than another struggle might have done.

Only minutes ago, he had fought William and shouted about betrayal, loss, and everything that had been taken from him. Now all of that fury seemed to have drained away.

At the threshold of the cell, Algernon stopped and looked back at William.

Rosalind’s arms tightened around him.

Algernon said nothing. After a moment, Gabriel ushered him inside, and Isabella closed the door and turned the key. The metallic click echoed through the cellar.

Pembry tested the door himself before looking toward Gabriel. “He should remain secure until I return. I’ll bring the constables and send anyone I encounter for additional help.”

“Go,” Rosalind said. “Please.”

With one last glance toward Algernon, Pembry hurried for the stairs.

Rosalind thought of the rooms upstairs and the pages covered in a frightened child’s handwriting. For years, Algernon had been brought to Bryn Hir and locked behind doors by a father who believed suffering could force him into becoming someone else. Now he stood behind iron bars because of the suffering he had chosen to inflict upon someone else.

She could find no satisfaction in the sight of it. Only a terrible sadness for everything that had begun in this house so many years ago and everything Algernon had allowed it to turn him into.

Then William went completely slack in her arms.

“William?”

When he did not answer, fear clawed through her. She called his name again, panic breaking through her voice as she tightened her hold on him.

“William, please.”