Read Upon a Midnight Dream Online
Authors: Rachel Van Dyken
Upon a Midnight Dream (21 page)
“So you say,” Stefan muttered. “So you say.”
James cursed. “What do you expect me to do? She threw herself at me! You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you brother? After all, you’ve everything you need. A title, wealth, a wife…oh wait. Apologies, it seems your wife isn’t technically in the best capacity to please you, is she? Well, I’m sure you can convince Elaina to attain to your more baser needs.”
Stefan pushed away from the desk and then charged his brother, ramming him into the nearest wall. “Speak poorly of my wife again and I’ll put a bullet through you. Do you understand?”
James snorted, pushing Stefan off of him. “Oh I understand brother. Good day.”
He sauntered off, leaving Stefan shaking from the whole episode. He needed to see Rosalind, but the last thing he wanted to do was admit that he had failed her. Yes, the curse was broken, but he wasn’t even man enough to protect her sisters, nor would she be happy to find out that her father was not a blood relation but a stranger without a face.
With a sigh, he dragged his feet to the large stairway and slowly ascended. The woman had been put through so much, why was he always the cause of her pain?
****
Rosalind dreamt of the day she danced with Stefan in the snow. Of the playful way he teased her, and his horrid proposals and finally his kisses.
She awoke to the smell of hot biscuits and tea.
“That’s it.” Mary said sitting on the bed. “I knew a good cup of tea would wake you up, after all, it’s said to have healing properties. Mr. Fitzgerald brought it over first thing this morning. Worried sick, he is.”
Rosalind smiled, but didn’t reach for the tea. But who could blame her? With nerves as strong as a feather she wanted nothing more than to see her husband and have a good cry. Well that, and perhaps a blood sizzling kiss.
“Ahem.” A male voice came from the doorway.
“Stefan!” Rosalind didn’t mean to yell, but she couldn’t help the relief she felt at seeing his face.
“I see your voice hasn’t met any harm, just as loud as ever. Ah Mary good to see you, do you per chance have our cane close by?”
Mary grunted and sauntered out of the room.
“I think she’s beginning to like me,” Stefan grinned and closed the door, locking it behind him. “How do you feel, Rose?”
Her breath hitched, which was all it took for Stefan to rush to her side and pull her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I swear I’ll make it better. I swear it.”
“Just hold me.”
“With pleasure.” Stefan pushed the hair away from her eyes and kissed her eye lids. “I could not bear to lose you, Rose.”
“Did she truly…?”
“Your mother was mad, Rose. A sane woman would never cause her children harm.”
Rosalind nodded.
“I need to tell you something, and I fear it isn’t going to make you feel any better. Would you rather I waited until you were out of bed and walking?”
How much worse could it get? “Tell me now, please. Just promise not to let go of me.”
“I believe I can manage.” Stefan pulled her into his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Your father…” he paused and looked away. “He was a good man.”
Rosalind turned her head to look Stefan in the eye. “Yes...” Her words were tentative, “…was that what you wanted to say?”
“For now…” Stefan bit his lip. “Well, that and both your sisters seem to be missing now. Gwen has gone after Isabelle. Apparently she understands more of that horrid language than she let on. For she took the betrothal contract with her. A note was left that she would return once she reached the location where Isabelle was taken. Unfortunately, she refused to tell us where that specific location was.”
Rosalind shuddered. She should have known Gwen would do something like this. “We have to go after her.”
“
We
will do nothing.
I
, however, have plans to do exactly that.” Stefan pushed the hair away from her brow and bent near to bestow a kiss upon her face. “There is something else.”
Rosalind felt the all too familiar choking fear. “What is it?”
“I’ve failed you.”
“How? I don’t understand.”
Stefan cursed. “Both your sisters are missing. I’m supposed to take care of you. How am I to do that when I cannot even take care of two young girls? Not to mention be outsmarted by them, but what’s worse, what’s worse...” he repeated and looked down. “Your father is not truly your father.”
“I don’t understand your meaning.” A cold chill shook her core.
“The earl, who died—he was not your father. Your mother said as much when she tried to poison you.”
“But how are you failing me?”
Stefan took a deep breathe and released another string of curses. “As of today, your mother has broken her silence. I’ve tried to do my best Rosalind. But gossip is rampant that you and your sisters are bastards.”
Rosalind gasped, and began to choke on her sobs. “But, my parents were married, they were…”
“Your parents, your true parents were not married Rosalind. Your father claimed you as his, but the damage my dear, has already been done.”
“You cannot be married to me.” Rosalind’s voice shook. Her hands wrung the bed sheet as her mind tormented her with images of Stefan again and again.
“I’m not the true descendant, the one to break the curse am I?”
“For the last time, there is no curse, but you are correct. It apparently now falls to another woman, your cousin Maleficent.”
Rosalind could not speak, words would not come out of her mouth not even when she tried to force her lips to move. “So the contract between our families….”
“The contract says I need to marry the true blood relation of the Earl of Hariss.”
Rosalind pushed his hand away. “Then you must do as it says. You are, after all, a duke.”
She kept her voice cold; she had to. How could she allow him to stay married to her? She wasn’t even the way to solve the curse, if one existed, and now she had her doubts. Perhaps her mother was truly mad and poisoning everyone, herself included. It would make sense, which meant, Rosalind had no reason to truly be stayed to Stefan. Other than loving him with all her heart.
But he must never know.
Stubbornly, Rosalind pasted a smile on her face. “We will, of course, get our marriage annulled. No one will be the wiser that we spent the evening together, and if there is a child….Well, we will cross that bridge if it happens.”
“Rose—” Stefan choked. “What are you saying?” Stefan began to pace around the room. “How can you say such things? I…I…” He cursed himself for not being able to say the words, but she was discarding him so quickly, so effectively. Had she no feelings for him at all? “I care for you deeply.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “And I you. After all, you’ve been so good to me and my sisters.”
“That’s it? That’s all you are going to say?” Stefan was incredulous and more pained than he ever thought possible. Silence answered him. “Is this what you truly want, Rosalind? To be rid of me?”
“It is what is right.”
Stefan cursed. “Devil take it! I don’t give a wit for what is right, Rosalind. Do you not want to be married?”
His eyes betrayed him, the wound cut deep. But Rosalind couldn’t find in herself to do anything except nod the affirmative. How could she saddle the great Duke of Montmouth to herself? How selfish could a person be? For it would only be for her own benefit; he would be shunned by society for not only marrying a bastard, but going against both their dying fathers’ last wishes.
“Yes,” she mouthed weakly.
Stifling an oath, he stormed off, slamming the door behind him.
Where there is mystery, it is generally suspected there must also be evil.
—Lord Byron
Rosalind’s lips quivered as the wet frigid air blasted against her face. The temperature hadn’t caused her quivering; no it was because she was hurting deeper than she ever thought possible, and all because she was following her father’s final wish.
Stefan looked past her, closing his eyes as he said the words that started everything. “I release you.”
Rosalind found that she couldn’t stop the sad smile from spreading across her face. “Am I an animal then, Your Grace? That begs to be released?” She closed her eyes against the burning intrusion of tears.
“No,” he choked. “You would never beg to be released from anything, not my Rose. Not unless you asked, and I know you better than you believe. You need no reminder of the pain I have caused you, nor the nightmare of being with a man who is more brute than gentleman.”
“And if I want the brute?” she asked in a small voice.
“The brute wants you…will
always
want you.”
Tears streamed down Rosalind’s face, the salty invaders rolled down her lips. “I lo—”
“It’s time my lady,” Mr. Fitzgerald said. “Up you go! We’ll get you back to the country estate, make it right as rain, we will.”
“Be happy, Rose.”
Words would not come…tears, however, streamed of their own accord as the vision of her husband disappeared down the road. He said he would protect her at all costs. She hadn’t realized the cost would be that of her heart.
****
Within a few hours, Stefan was so drunk he wasn’t able to see straight. The whiskey wasn’t doing its job, at least he didn’t feel it was, for he could still remember the sad smile spread across Rosalind’s face. He wanted her. He loved her. But, if she truly loved him, would she not have asked him to fight for her? To stay with her forever and always? Was he merely talking romantic nonsensical things because his heart was so heavily involved.
In an effort to make his mood worse, he stumbled to the room where Rosalind had been staying and laid across the bed, taking in her scent. The tea cup was still full. The girl hadn’t touched it.
Obsessively, he held it to is lips thinking that if she had touched it, he wanted to feel her lips against his, imagine it once again.
A strong odor greeted him, so foul his stomach churned. What the devil had they put in her tea? Suspicion pooled in his belly. On a whim, most likely because he was foxed and depressed, he called for the maid.
“Yes?” She gave a low curtsy never lifting her eyes to his face.
“Who brought the tea?”
“Mr. Fitzgerald, sir, he says it has healing properties.”
“It’s foul,” he remarked absentmindedly.
She let out a giggle. “Yes, I think the rats agree with you, for some of this concoction took a spill earlier tonight, and they died instantly, most likely from that awful smell.”
“What did you say?”
“The putrid smell, sir?” she answered.
“Before that?”
“The rats?”
“Yes.” He rose from the bed and walked to her. “They died? All of them?”
“Well yes, but they could have gotten into some poison too, sir…”
Stefan’s memory flashed ahead of him. The tea, always the tea. Hadn’t he suspected as much before? Mr. Fitzgerald was bringing his family tea, when they were ill. Even Rosalind’s mother, and the night of Rosalind’s spell...
“Oh, God…” Stefan prayed as he stumbled out of the room and called for his horse. “Oh, God, oh, God, please let her be alive.”
"O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.”
—Romeo, Romeo and Juliet
Rosalind wished for one of her spells to come upon her again, for no other reason than to sleep away the pain stabbing at her chest.
To be forever separated from the man she loved, could anything be worse?
The carriage pulled to a stop. Mary reached across and patted her hand. “Twill be alright, you’ll see. My Alfred won’t let the duke be so hair-brained for long, you’ll see.”
“Your Alfred?” Rosalind was partially amused. “Is that where you were running off to so often?”
A blush rose to Mary’s cheeks. “It isn’t proper to talk of such things. Your duke will come for you. I know it in my bones.”
“He isn’t my duke.” Rosalind sighed. “Not anymore.”
“My lady?” Willard held out his hand. With reluctance, she grasped it as he helped her out of the carriage.
Her country estate mocked her with its dark and gothic scenery. The last thing she wanted to do was walk into an empty home. It reminded her of her heart, her soul. Black and empty for Stefan had taken every ounce of love she had, and she feared she had nothing left to give, to anyone.
Her sisters were still missing, though Stefan promised that they would surely be found, he had sent men in both directions after them.
So now Rosalind, was left to live out the rest of her days in a dark castle with no one save her godmother and her family’s odd valet.
It was still strange that he decided to escort them back to the estate. After all, he was now in charge of the London home, but he had been so worried. She was at least grateful that the man cared.
