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They opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Rosaline was glad of the cool air on her flushed cheeks.
As Benedict had said, Joshua was standing a little way down the hall, talking to the butler.
“Ah, good evening, Benedict! And Miss Wyre, too, what a surprise!”
He moved towards them, smiling.
Rosaline felt herself relax a little. There were no suspicious glares, no muffled exclamations of shock. Perhaps she’d gotten away with it.
“I’m just leaving.” Rosaline said, aware that her voice sounded more raspy than usual.
“Would you take Miss Wyre home?” Lord Benedict asked. “I don’t want her to take a long carriage journey home by herself.”
Joshua blinked, glancing between the two of them. “Of course.”
Rosaline forced a smile. It would be rude to refuse. ***
“Itake it you two have made up?”
Rosaline looked sharply at Joshua, sitting on the other side of the carriage. “I beg your pardon?”
Poor Joshua blinked, looking confused. “About his leaving you in the Park. We were very angry with him, you know.”
Rosaline cleared her throat. “I think I have managed to forgive him.”
“Good. That’s good. I know… I know Benedict is rather harsh sometimes, but he’s a good man. A kind man, you know. He cares for the people he loves.”
Rosaline stared at her lap, a lump rising to her throat. “Can you tell me why he acted so strangely that day in the Park? It was as though he suddenly became a different person.”
Joshua sighed, glancing out of the window at the dark landscape. “There was a storm, wasn’t there?”
“Yes.”
“Iassume he didn’t tell you what happened to his parents.”
Rosaline frowned. “No, he’s never mentioned them at all. I know he was raised by his grandmother, but that’s all.”
Joshua turned back to face her. “Before I came into the family, Benedict was a petted, spoiled little boy. Not a brat, you understand, just spoiled with love and attention. He was very different to the man you know now. He lost his parents when he was very young.”
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“They were taking a carriage journey over a hillside. It was a bad road, known for accidents, and there was a terrible storm. Rain, thunder, lightning, and so on. We think that the coachman – a good, reliable fellow – suffered a heart problem. He collapsed, falling off the coach. The horses panicked and began to run. The family were trapped in the carriage when it went careering off the side of the cliff.”
Rosaline drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, that’s… that’s terrible.”
“Benedict only survived because his mother threw him out of the coach window. I don’t believe they had time to jump themselves. They were killed, of course. Benedict climbed down the cliff when it became clear he could not revive the coachman and tried to free his parents from the wreckage of the carriage. He… he saw them. They were dead. No child should have to see their parents’ bodies, especially not like that. I suppose that memory keeps him afraid of storms. I know he still has nightmares.”
Rosaline sat back against the carriage seat. She wasn’t even aware of having leaned forward.
“Poor Benedict,” she murmured. “What he must be going through.”
Joshua nodded. “So, while I don’t agree with his leaving you in the Park, I’m sure you can sympathize with his fear of storms. The best of us flinches at thunder, and in Benedict’s head, he’ll always remember seeing the corpses of his parents with thunder and lightning overhead.”
Rosaline swallowed trying to reconcile the scared, traumatized boy in her head with the cold and distant Duke of Ice.
Strangely enough, this tragic story made a lot of sense. Perhaps the Duke of Ice had been born there, on that rainy, stormy hillside.
The carriage stopped with a jolt in front of Rosaline’s house.
