he would have to overcome her refusal to marry without love.
Turning abruptly, Drew made his way through the dark gardens to return to the ball. He could persuade her to his way of thinking, he felt confident, but he would have to give careful thought to his campaign.
He had never purposely set out to win a woman, but he didn’t doubt he could win Roslyn if he truly set his mind to it.
Chapter Ten
– Roslyn to Fanny
“Woolgathering, Miss Loring?” the Earl of Haviland said mildly as he slowed his pair of spirited bays to a walk.
Slanting a guilty look at the handsome nobleman in the phaeton’s seat beside her, Roslyn shook herself from her brooding reverie. Her thoughts had been so distracted, she’d completely lost track of the conversation.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said, her face warming with embarrassment. “What were you saying?”
Haviland’s wry smile held a great charm. “Nothing of much import. But you are obviously stewing over some problem. I trust it isn’t too serious?”
“Is there anything I may do to help?” Haviland added solicitously.
“Thank you, no. I am just poor company this morning.” That much was true, certainly. Her mood matched the weather, which during the night had turned cold and dreary. Casting a glance at the overcast sky, Roslyn drew her pelisse more closely around her.
“Perhaps I should take you home,” the earl offered.
She made a determined effort to smile. “No, no, there is no need. Doubtless the brisk air will chase the cobwebs from my brain soon.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, my lord.” She made her smile genuine. “I didn’t mean to spoil our outing. This is actually a delightful treat for me.”
Haviland was silent for a moment as he directed his horses around a sharp bend in the country lane. “Your preoccupation wouldn’t have anything to do with Arden, would it?”
Roslyn tried to conceal her dismay. “Why would you think so?”
“I couldn’t help noticing last night that there seemed to be some tension between the two of you. You didn’t appear eager to dance with him.”
“Because he only asked me under duress.”
“Ah, so Lady Freemantle is throwing you together,” Haviland observed shrewdly. “She does have a lamentable tendency to play matchmaker.”
“Indeed,” Roslyn agreed, her tone tart. “It is driving me to distraction-and the duke as well.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t expect Arden enjoys being the target of her machinations, but I would say he is interested in you for your own sake. And I think perhaps you are not indifferent to him.”
Roslyn couldn’t bring herself to lie, so she remained silent. She could feel Haviland’s gaze measuring her.
“If you need me to intervene with Lady Freemantle,” he finally said, “just say the word.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Roslyn replied, warmed by his protectiveness.
But her problem was not one Haviland could help her with. She had to deal with this on her own-and she was doing a deplorable job thus far. Her passionate encounter with Arden in the moonlight last night had thrown all her emotions into utter confusion, along with all her best-laid plans.
To begin with, she’d been shocked by his proposal of marriage, even though she couldn’t put any real store in it. The duke couldn’t possibly want to marry her. And even if he did, she wasn’t about to accept. He had proposed for all the wrong reasons-because she would do better than anyone else. What sort of justification was that for marriage? Roslyn reflected with disgust.
If she’d thought for one minute that he could conceivably come to care for her, she might at least have hesitated a fraction of an instant before refusing him. But no, it was impossible to think of the elegant, cynical Duke of Arden losing his head or his heart to her or any other woman. He was the last man who would ever make a love match when he didn’t even believe in love.
Yet last night, Roslyn conceded, she’d been forced to admit her fierce desire for him-the illogical, vexatious, maddening desire she’d tried earnestly to deny ever since meeting him. And during a long sleepless night of tossing and turning, she’d had to acknowledge a more profound truth. Not only had Arden shown her the forbidden pleasure that awaited her if she surrendered to him. Not only had he filled her with an anticipation and craving for a passion beyond what she ever imagined. Much worse, he had made her question her own deepest longings.
Did she truly want to win Lord Haviland’s heart? Or was it merely a pipe dream that she had built out of an idealistic need for love?
Whatever the answers, she no longer felt in control of her destiny.
She wanted to curse the duke, and yet she couldn’t place the blame entirely on him. Her own wanton behavior was inexcusable.
Swearing mentally at herself, Roslyn shook off her dark thoughts and bestirred herself to give all her attention to Lord Haviland. For the next three-quarters of an hour, they indulged in amusing banter with the pleasant intimacy of old friends. It was the most comfortable she had ever been around him.
And that was a big part of the trouble, Roslyn realized with chagrin when his lordship returned her to Danvers Hall and took his leave of her. She felt little of the spark with Haviland that the Duke of Arden kindled in her with only a glance. Every time she was with the earl, all she could think about was Arden.
And her mind kept insisting on comparing the two of them. They were both dynamic, charismatic men, but only one made her blood sing and her stomach flutter. Only one made her lose all her willpower when he merely kissed her as Arden had done last night.
His embrace had been dominantly possessive, eliciting an erotic response in her beyond her control. The experience had shaken Roslyn to her core, and opened her eyes to self-doubt as well.
A doubt that had only been confirmed in the cold light of day. The moment she’d greeted Lord Haviland this morning, she’d understood why her pulse didn’t quicken at the sight of him. Why her heart didn’t race and turn somersaults in her chest at his nearness.
She felt affection and friendship for the earl, but not much of the delicious thrill she always felt with the duke.
Feeling a deep regret, Roslyn slowly made her way upstairs to her bedchamber. She wished her sisters were here so she could discuss her dilemma with them. Arabella would likely understand and be able to offer sage advice, yet regrettably she was still away on her wedding trip. And Lily was also away, in London.
Besides, Lily would be the last person to ask, since she was so adamantly opposed to marriage. Lily would say that she’d lost her wits-and Roslyn would have to agree. She had just tossed all her long-held aspirations, all her beliefs about what she wanted for her future, out the window.
Fanny would be happy to listen, of course, but Roslyn felt that she’d intruded on her friend quite enough in the past few weeks. And in any case, Fanny was in London, too, nearly an hour away.
Perhaps she should apply to Tess for advice. Tess fully appreciated her desire to make a love match and approved of her interest in Lord Haviland. But what would Tess say about a woman’s need for passion in her life?
Roslyn had never let herself dream of having a grand passion in marriage. She’d told herself she would be content with love and affection. But now she was beginning to wonder if she didn’t want passion after all.
One thing was becoming certain, though. She would have to end her pursuit of Haviland. It wouldn’t be fair to him to continue trying to rouse his interest and affection when she was so attracted to another man. It wouldn’t be
