e fi shing. Th
e hunting. Searching for the
treasure. Playing hide and seek.”
“Stealing pies when Cook wasn’t looking,” Justin added.
He grinned and studied Rosalind. “You’re good for Lucien.”
Charles nodded. “We await the announcement with
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pleasure. It will take the pressure off us, won’t it, Justin?”
“You maybe,” Justin growled, “But my mother is con-
stantly harping at me to tie the knot with some female.”
“Sounds like Aunt Augusta,” Charles stated. “Th
e sooner
you and Lucien have children, the better.”
“I think we’re embarrassing her,” Justin observed.
Th
ey certainly were. Th
e two men were talking about her
as though she were a broodmare. Rosalind wasn’t sure where
to look. In the end, she concentrated on the lavender bush
a few feet away. It was a pity she hadn’t perfected her aunt’s
technique of silencing such unwanted comments.
“We’re not sorry, Rosalind,” Charles said, smiling. “We’re
family. You have to put up with us.” He paused to chuckle
wickedly. “It’s good not being the one in the fi ring line. Be-
sides, it would be good to have children about the place.”
292
XV
Rosalind made her way to the stairs that led to the fl oor
below. She smoothed the apple-green skirts of her
newest gown and hoped that this dinner would run smoothly
since Lady Helena was attending. Rosalind had a sneaking
suspicion that Lady Augusta was matchmaking. Charles and
Lady Helena. Th
e two barely spoke to each other because
the girl spent more time ingratiating herself with Lucien.
Jealousy speared Rosalind’s heart at the thought. Soon, she’d
take fi rm action to show Lady Helena that Lucien was her
husband.
As she stepped down the fi rst stair, she heard a muffl
ed
sound behind her. She turned, expecting one of the servants.
Th
e shove in the middle of her back threw Rosalind off bal-
ance. She toppled backward. Her hands clutched for the
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banister. And missed. She heard a scream.
Hers.
Rosalind hit the stairs with a thud. Again, she grabbed
for the railing. Again, she missed, clutching at air instead.
She landed with a painful thump. Rolled and snatched des-
perately. Th
e solid wood beneath her hands wrenched free a
moan of relief.
Rosalind grasped the banister with every shred of
strength. Her breath emerged in pants. Her chest heaved.
Rosalind fl exed her leg. Pain shot from her ankle. She moved
gingerly until at last she sat safely on a stair. She eased her
grip on the banister and looked down at her ankle.
Her dress had hiked up, showing her lacey garters and
her stocking from knee to ankle. Th
e sound of running feet
thudded on the landing above. She hurriedly rearranged her
skirts and noticed a small rent where she’d caught the hem.
Tears built in her eyes as she looked down at her throbbing
ankle. One seeped free and ran down her cheek. She sniff ed
and brushed it away.
“Rosalind!” Charles’ anxious face stared down at her.
Justin appeared then, as did Lucien.
Lucien rushed down the stairs, stopping to crouch beside
her. “Rosalind, I heard a scream. What happened? Are you
all right?”
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
Another tear slid free.
“What is it? Where does it hurt?”
A sob escaped. Rosalind’s vision turned blurry, the tears
fl owed so fast.
“Talk to me, Rosalind,” Lucien pleaded. He sat on the
stair beside her and placed an arm about her shoulders.
“My dress,” she managed. Her shoulders heaved. An-
other sob escaped.
“What about your dress?”
“It’s . . . ru . . . ruined,” she wailed. With that, Rosalind
His arms cradled her gently. He murmured, soft nonsen-
sical words until she quieted. She was dimly aware of Charles
and Justin’s worried queries. Lucien spoke to them and the
two friends left, heading down the fl ight of sweeping stairs,
leaving her alone with Lucien.
Rosalind swallowed and pulled away from Lucien. She
wiped a self-conscious hand over her face, knowing that she
probably looked terrible with red eyes and an equally red nose.
Lucien studied her for long seconds. He lifted one hand
to gently wipe away tears on her cheek. “What is really wrong,
Rosalind? Did you fall?”
“I was pushed.” She waited for him to tell her it was
imagination, but he remained thoughtful. She shuddered
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inwardly. If it hadn’t been for the curve in the stairs, she
would have toppled all the way to the bottom.
“Did you see who pushed you?”
“All I saw was a blur of black and white. It happened so
quickly. It could have been one of the servants, or one of the
guests.” She held her breath, waiting for his next comment.
He hadn’t believed her earlier, but another incident might
make him fi nally accept that someone was trying to kill her.
“Th
at makes three incidents in the last two days,” he said
at last.
Rosalind struggled against the onset of more tears. “You
don’t think it’s my imagination?”
“No.” Lucien stood. “Can you walk?” he asked. “Wait.
Don’t try on the stairs. I’ll carry you.” He picked her up and
strode back up the stairs with a fi rm tread.
Rosalind stiff ened. “Where are we going?”
“To your chamber. You’re injured so Aunt Augusta can
pardon you from dinner for once.”
“I’m fi ne,” Rosalind protested. “I need to tidy my appear-
ance and change my dress, that’s all.”
“You can’t even walk. How are you going to manage
the stairs?”
“I haven’t tried to walk yet.” Rosalind paused to bat her
eyelids at her husband. “Besides, I thought you’d carry me.”
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
Th
e sound of Lucien’s uninhibited laughter was a gift to
treasure. “Minx.”
Rosalind turned pensive. “Th
ere was another reason. I
wanted to see if any of the guests seem surprised by my ap-
pearance.”
“I don’t like it,” Lucien muttered.
“But, you’ll be there to watch. What more can happen
to me?”
Rosalind gritted her teeth, but managed a smile for the maid
who handed her a dish of tea. Boredom. Th
at’s what could
happen next. Apart from the minister’s wife, the women were
ignoring her. During dinner, the snubs were not so obvious,
but now the women had left the men to their port and pipe
smoking, Rosalind sat on the horsehair couch, along with the
minister’s wife, in solitary splendor.
“I so enjoy needlework,” the minister’s wife murmured.
Rosalind smiled encouragingly at Katherine Wright
when the woman faltered. “What do you stitch?”
“I am working on new cushions for the front parlor. I
designed the patterns myself.” Th
e woman glanced across the
room at the chattering women. She bit her lip, and Rosalind
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SHELLEY MUNRO
noticed her hands twisting in her lap.
“I wish I were talented with a needle and thread,” Rosa-
lind said. She felt badly for the woman whose only crime was
to sit with her.
“I know the rumors aren’t true,” Katherine Wright blurt-
ed. She glanced at Rosalind then looked away, a soft blush
highlighting her embarrassment.
“What rumors?” Rosalind asked. But she already sus-
pected what Katherine Wright referred to.
“About you being a witch.” Th
e woman’s gaze shot to her
embroidered shoes. “I know it is a falsehood. You do so much
for the sick in St. Clare. And, I’ve never heard of you selling
love charms and spells.” Th
e woman spoke quickly as if she
had to get the words out before she was interrupted.
“Spells!” Rosalind almost choked on her tea. She
coughed and hurriedly set her cup on the oak pedestal table
at her elbow.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t wish to distress you!” Katherine
Wright looked as though she might burst into tears. And, her
raised voice had attracted the attention of the other women.
Rosalind’s stomach churned when she saw Lady Helena
and her bosom friends, Lady Margaret and Lady Suzanna,
put their heads together to whisper behind their fans. She
saw Lady Augusta frown, her perceptive gaze searching the
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
women’s faces.
“No, not the harpsichord,” Rosalind muttered.
“Mrs. Radcliff e, would you like to entertain us with some
music? And, perhaps Lady Suzanna will sing?”
Rosalind breathed again until she saw Lady Augusta’s
gaze was fi xed fi rmly on her. Her lined face was still set in a
frown. A sigh escaped as Rosalind wondered what sin she’d
committed this time.
“Lady Rosalind, there you are. What are you doing all
the way over here?” Lady Helena trilled. She glided toward
Rosalind like a ship under full sail. Her silk sack dress was
full with a snug bodice, highlighting her creamy skin and
other charms.
Rosalind muttered one of the coachman’s curses about
St. Christopher’s body parts under her breath. A discussion
with Lady Helena was exactly what she needed. Her ankle
throbbed with a persistent demand for attention while her
head ached in sympathy.
Lady Margaret simpered. “Do you not want to join us?”
“We wished for quiet conversation,” Katherine Wright
blurted.
One pointed look from Lady Helena and the minister’s
wife withered like a plucked fl ower left out in the full sun.
Rosalind half expected her to fl ee, but Katherine stood her
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ground, resisting her transparent urge to scamper for safety.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Rosalind stood,
not liking the sly look that passed between the two friends.
“I’ve heard rumors in the village.” Lady Helena tossed
her head, making powdered ringlets bounce against her
creamy shoulders.
“You listen to rumors?” Rosalind’s soft laugh drew
a frown from Lady Helena and gave no indication of her
inner tension.
“Th
ey are more than rumors,” Lady Helena snapped.
Rosalind’s heart slammed against her ribs, but her smile
remained intact. Lucien had warned her; the village children
had questioned her, so it was easy to guess the delightful
tidbit Lady Helena wished to share.
Witchcraft.
“Do tell,” she said in a playful tone, ignoring the panic
that cramped her stomach. If she belittled Lady Helena’s words
and treated them as harmless nonsense, perhaps they’d cause
less damage. Even so, Rosalind felt her secure future slipping
from her grasp. It was happening again. Soon, people would
turn their backs when they saw her coming. Only her station
would save her, but she’d become a prisoner, unable to leave
the castle. In outlying villages, they still burned witches at
the stake, even though authorities frowned on the practice.
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
“I want a love spell.” Lady Helena met and held Rosa-
lind’s gaze, daring her to deny the demand.
Lady Margaret gasped, while a soft moan came from
Katherine Wright. Rosalind ignored them both.
“Lady Margaret would like one too.”
Th
is time soft color fl ooded Lady Margaret’s face, but
she didn’t gainsay Lady Helena’s demands on her behalf.
Katherine Wright drew in a shocked breath. “Th
e rumors
are wicked. Wicked, scurrilous gossip.”
“And, I have no idea how to make a love spell!” Rosalind
laughed. “Where ever did you get the idea?”
“You’re a witch. Everyone knows that witches sell love
charms along with dark spells. Th
e cows on Justin’s estate
have gone dry.” She thrust a fi nger at Rosalind in dramatic
statement. “Are you responsible?”
Rosalind rolled her eyes. She heard the music of the
harpsichord come to a sudden halt and sensed the interested
stares from behind.
“What’s going on?” Lady Augusta’s strident tones
snapped across the parlor.
Rosalind knew she had to face the charge without fl inch-
ing. She might not stop the gossip in the village, but she could
halt it here. “Lady Helena was kind enough to repeat some
rather unpleasant gossip doing the rounds in the village.”
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SHELLEY MUNRO
“Yes.” Katherine Wright stepped up beside Rosalind.
“I’ve never heard so much nonsense in all my life. How could
anyone think that Lady Rosalind is a witch? She is an angel.
Only yesterday my husband commented on how good she is
with treating the sick and infi rm in St. Clare village.”
“Have those silly rumors about witchcraft surfaced
again?” Lady Augusta demanded. “Stuff and nonsense! I ex-
pected better of you all. Lady Helena, will you honor us with
a rendition on the harpsichord? I’d like you to play a lullaby,
if you please.”
Lady Helena swept away in a swish of skirts, heading for
the stool behind the harpsichord. Th
e scowl and fl ashing eyes
told Rosalind she hadn’t heard the end of the matter.
Th
e door at the far end of the parlor opened and the
gentlemen drifted in.
Rosalind
sat to take the weight off her aching knee.
“Katherine, thank you for your defense.”
Katherine sat beside her and arranged her skirts so they
would not crease. “Lady Helena is spreading wicked gossip. I
grew up in a village called Little Neston in Cheshire. When
I was ten one of the old women in the village was accused of
being a witch.” Katherine’s voice trembled. “I heard my par-
ents talking. She wasn’t a witch. She was old and eccentric,
but then we all have our quirks. Stephen says we must accept
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
each other’s shortcomings.”
Rosalind nodded, smiling inwardly at Katherine’s speech.
Th
e minister’s wife never said much, but it was obvious she
felt strongly on the matter.
“Rosalind, how are you feeling?”
“Justin, I am fi ne, thank you.”
Charles sauntered up to them, holding his quizzing glass
high. “Devilish clumsy, aren’t you?”
“And you’re no gentleman commenting on the fact,” Ro-
salind said tartly. She folded her fan with a fl ick of her wrist
and stood.
“Are you going to sulk?” Interest colored Justin’s voice.
“No, I’m not! Th
e two of you are impossible.”
“Just like my brothers,” Katherine said. “Always teasing.”
Rosalind turned to Katherine in astonishment. “I’m an
only child. I grew up with my cousin, Miranda. I’ve no expe-
rience with brothers.”
“Lucky you didn’t grow up with us around,” Charles
said with a grin. “We would have dared you to climb trees
and crawl through dark passages. You’re so clumsy we’d have
been forever rescuing you.”
Th
ere was a moment’s startled silence, then the four of
them laughed out loud.
“What’s the joke?” Lucien asked, coming up beside Rosalind.
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Th
e casual slide of his arm around her waist caused
a hitch in her breath. She swallowed while her heart beat
faster. “Th
ey’re laughing at my expense,” Rosalind said,
shaking her head.
From the corner of her eye she saw Katherine tense at
Lucien’s appearance. Her gaze held both fascinated horror
and pity. If Lucien saw he gave no indication, but Rosalind
felt irritation. It was a scar, that’s all. He wasn’t a monster or a
freak to be pitied. He was her husband. She rested her gloved
hand on his arm to align her loyalties.
“Is your knee paining you?” he murmured.