Upon a Midnight Dream (London Fairy Tales #1)(58)

“I…” Rosalind found she couldn’t speak. “I’m not sure. Is Stefan here? Is he alright?”

The Dowager Duchess of Montmouth smiled. “Well. The last time I’ve seen him this worried was when his father died. Though he never took to spirits like he has now. I believe my son has also taken to talking to his horse.” She smiled to herself and shook her head. “But I assure you, he will be fine. He survived a shipwreck after all. Now dear, how do you feel? Can you move?”

Rosalind tried to wiggle her toes. Everything felt right, except for the nagging tiredness that seemed to plague her body. “Was it another spell then?”

“The wine.” The Dowager sat on the bed and patted Rosalind’s hand. “Child, it seems your mother was trying to poison you and Stefan.”

“But...” Rosalind’s mind was barely able to wrap around the idea. “Surely she’s mad, but to kill me? Her own daughter?”

“Bitterness does things that sometimes we do not understand, Rose. I’ve brought your godmother here to the house to attend to your needs. Your sister wasn’t to be found anywhere on the estate, perhaps she was out.”

Rosalind shifted, so Stefan hadn’t told anyone of her sister’s betrothal. “Isabelle is to be married to the new Earl of Harris. She left a day ago.”

“I know, dear, and how sad that must be for you. But I was talking of Gwen, the sister with that raven black hair. She seems to be missing. It is of no matter though. I’ve told Stefan to locate her at once.”

“Gone?” Gwen would never run away, would she? What if something happened to her? “And mother?”

“At Bedlam. Now rest dear. You both have done your jobs, the curse is broken, even Fitz is getting better.”

Rosalind nodded and laid her head back on the pillow. She couldn’t help but feel a nagging suspicion that things were far from over. With both sisters gone, and the family’s health returning, why did she feel so horrid? Granted, her own mother had tried to kill her, but she had been slowly going mad ever since her father died.

With a sigh, she fought to close her eyes. Perhaps Stefan would have some answers upon his return.





Chapter Twenty-three


There is no instinct like that of the heart—Lord Byron



Stefan cursed as he kicked the desk in front of him. How had Gwen done it? The only clue they had of the whereabouts of the youngest sister was now with Gwen. And the middle sister was now traveling in search of her.

All of them under his protection. Both gone, and his wife had almost died. Could things possibly get worse? The only positive in the whole situation was that the curse seemed to have lifted. Fitz health was returning to normal, his mother was able to walk around without much help and Elaina was back to being Elaina.

Another problem he had no desire to look at. It seemed to be the woman’s only joy in life to enrage Stefan with every word that dripped from her mouth. To think that he would even think of having an affair with the woman! He was married, as was she, and he didn’t forget the haughty looks thrown between James and her when Fitz was on his death bed.

For the past hour he hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the correspondence that had arrived in the post. The letters written in black, sealed his fate as well as Rosalind’s. He wondered, truly wondered, how it had come to this. The truth of Rosalind’s birth was still pounding in his head. His conversation with the next in line to be married did nothing but make his mood plummet. After all this time, he had to believe there was some sort of hex on their family and if he didn’t marry the rightful bloodline of the deceased earl, then everything would be for naught.

“Stefan?”

He turned to see James standing in the doorway, looking very much the dandy known to the ton.

“What is it?” He snapped.

“Mother says that the duchess has awoken. She asks for you.” The butler handed James his hat and gloves.

Stefan’s brow furrowed. “Where are you off to?”

James laughed. “Truly? You ask after all this madness has taken place? I have every intention on getting foxed and staying out all night in celebration. The curse is broken and I’m feeling better than I’ve felt in years. Perhaps I’ll visit my mistresses, eh?”

Not the luckiest ladies in London, Stefan thought eyeing his dandified sod of a brother. “Yes, perhaps that would be best, after all. We wouldn’t want Elaina getting too attached, hmm?”

“Nothing happened between us.”

“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.