On her return from church, Rosalie went straight upstairs to deposit her bonnet and pelisse. She opened the door to her room and paused, hand still on the knob. “Sarah…what?”
“I don’t know,” the maid cried. “Twas all here when I came up to change the linens.”
Rosalie took in the three large, rectangular dress boxes stacked on her bed. A blue hatbox sat next to them, and another small, yellow parcel sat atop the hat box. The duchess hinted that Rosalie would have an allowance for dresses should she choose to stay, but she’d yet to give the duchess her answer.
“But…where did it all come from? I ordered nothing.”
Sarah hurried forward. “The modiste in Carrington. There was a note on top, miss.”
Rosalie took the envelope and slipped out the card within. It contained two short lines written in a slanting hand:
Consider this repayment for any damages.
Yours respectfully,
J.C.
Her heart fluttered. James Corbin. She slipped the card back inside the envelope and tucked it safely in her pocket.
“Who’s it from?” Sarah pressed.
“Lord James,” she replied, setting her bonnet on the chair as she stepped forward. She eyed the top box. It was the largest of the three. Swallowing her nerves, she lifted the lid and folded back the stiff paper.
“Oh, heavenly,” Sarah whispered. “Did you ever see such a pretty blue?”
Rosalie couldn’t contain her smile as she lifted out the dress, letting it fall in heavy folds to the floor. Not a dress…a new riding habit, with fashionable sleeves, a high collar, and beautiful, double-breasted silver buttons. It was the loveliest shade of robin’s egg blue.
“This must have cost a pretty penny.” Sarah touched the fabric with awe. “He must like you very much, Miss.”
Rosalie cleared her throat. “No, he’s just being gallant because he blames himself for my fall,” she replied. “I tore the sleeve of my habit, remember?”
Sarah blinked. “But…I’ve already mended that for you.”
Rosalie fought her smile. “Help me with these other boxes.”
In moments, Rosalie’s eyes were misting as she took in all the pieces of a full riding ensemble. Not only had James replaced her torn habit with a far more extravagant one, he included a fashionable riding hat in a darker shade of navy, with a pretty net veil that swept across the face. There was also a new walking dress of softest butter yellow with ivory lace trim. The bottom box contained a new petticoat and stockings. In the smallest parcel was a pair of kidskin riding gloves, also dyed a fashionable dark blue.
No one had ever given her such an extravagant gift. Why would he go to such trouble and expense? Her heart sank as she admitted the truth: she couldn’t possibly accept it. Might it not send the wrong impression?
“Do you want to put on the new dress, miss?”
“No,” Rosalie said too quickly. “No, I…I shall speak to Lord James first. I need to…I don’t know that I can accept this…”
“Oh, but you must. He’ll not be pleased if you decline.”
Everyone in the house would surely take note of new clothes. Madeline already warned her that the other ladies were ready to sharpen their knives at the mere idea of Rosalie talking to Lord James. What might they think if she paraded about the house in all these fine things?
“Put it away for now, Sarah. Back in the boxes if you please. I must…I’m going to speak to Lord James.”
Sarah looked wary as she folded the dress. “I hope you know what you’re doing, miss. Lord James is not a person easily gainsaid.”
Rosalie set her shoulders. “Unhappily for him, neither am I.”
The door to the duke’s study was ajar. Rosalie rapped twice and waited.
“Enter,” a deep voice called.
She swung the door open saying, “Lord James, please forgive the intrusion but I—” She paused, blinking as she found the duke leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, a book open in his hands. “I—I’m sorry, Your Grace.” She dipped into a curtsy. “I did not think to find you here. I was looking for Lord James…”
The duke scowled at her over the top of his book, snapping it shut with a huff. “Well, it is my study. I am the Duke of Norland, am I not?”
“Of course, Your Grace. I…I’ll just go then.” She took a few steps back.
“Not so fast,” he said, swinging his legs off the desk. “Now that you’ve caught me alone, we may as well have it out. Sit down.”
She stilled, eyes darting from the duke to the empty chair. “Have it out, Your Grace?”
“You clearly angled to find me alone,” he said. “You must mean to have harsh words with me over my conduct the other day.”
She swallowed her nerves. James said his brother would apologize for the scene in the servant’s stairwell, but she never actually expected it of him. “Your Grace, I did not—this is not—I’d never dream of monopolizing a moment of your time.”
He chuckled. “Relax, I had no idea of you actually looking for me. But take a seat all the same, for I am weary of work and need the distraction.”
Work weary? It was a Sunday afternoon before luncheon. She glanced down at the book he’d set on the desk and saw from the cover it was a historical reference on battles from ancient Mesopotamia. Taking a breath, she stepped forward and sat in the chair he offered.
“Remind me of your name,” he said, propping his elbows on the desk and crossing his fingers until he rested his chin atop them.
“Harrow, Your Grace,” she said. “Rosalie Harrow.”
“Yes of course,” he said with a grin. “The famous Cabbage Rose. Mama’s little pet project. Has she offered to take you in yet? God, she collects strays like I don’t know what.”
She blinked, unsure how to respond. The duchess hadn’t yet given her permission to make their plans public knowledge. Perhaps her sons already knew?
“No need to answer if you fear you’re in her confidence. But I had a feeling she might make you such an overture. How I’d love to know what secrets she holds that make her so interested in you. I’ve tried winkling them out of her, but the woman is a veritable vault of unknowable mysteries.”
Rosalie stilled. Clearly, she was not the only one curious to know why the duchess was bothering to show her attention.
“You don’t like me, Miss Rose. I can tell.”
She tried to read his mood. “Your Grace, if I gave the impression—”
“No, it’s fine,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I have a nose for this sort of thing. I can sniff out disappointment better than my best pointer. Burke’s right, you’re the principled type, aren’t you? You have to be principled for you’ve got nothing else going for you.”
She tried not to cringe. Burke was talking about her with the duke?
“You’ve no money, no status, no prospects of any kind from what I can see beyond that face and those tits,” he said, gesturing with another wave.
As his eyes flicked down to her breasts, she fought the urge to slap her arms across her chest. Heat flooded her cheeks.
“I find people like you to be insufferable,” he went on. “You see yourself as always in the right. My dear brother is just the same. It doesn’t matter that he usually is right…that just makes him even more intolerable. Thank god he talked me out of marrying you the other day.”
Rosalie felt like she’d just been thrown from a horse all over again. “You…what?”
The duke raised a brow. “James didn’t tell you? Yes, we were picking names from a hat to choose my duchess and your name was first out. But, in the end, he and Burke talked me out of it. Thank god too, for we would have driven each other quite mad, I’ve no doubt.”
She felt faint. Lord James and Burke stood around with the duke drawing names from a hat? That’s how they planned to choose the next duchess? She was sure if the duchess knew she’d have the men horse whipped.
“As of now, the only thing you do have to your credit is the attention of my mother,” he went on. “It’s a curiosity, you see? It vexes me. What is your allure for her, Miss Rose?” He narrowed his eyes. “Your mother was friends with mine, yes?”
“I believe so,” she replied.
He leaned back in his chair. “So, we must speculate wildly. An affair of the heart, perhaps? Love gone wrong? My money is on betrayal, for very little motivates my dear mother to act outside her own material benefit. Guilt is one of her few weaknesses.”
Rosalie considered his words, letting her own imagination spin.
But he was watching her with a curious look on his face. “If I were a lesser man, I would use you to my own ends. Don’t think I haven’t considered it. With the way James and Burke are panting after you, it would be all too fun. It would drive them all quite mad to think I’ve formed a sincere attachment on you.”
Rosalie couldn’t help but flinch, leaning back slightly in her chair.
The duke scowled. “Oh relax, Miss Harrow. God almighty, there’s those iron-clad principles again. Your perfect match is James, but he’s too proud and stupid to see it.”
Rosalie’s heart fluttered at the words, even as she wanted to take the horse whip to herself. Siren indeed, luring not one but three men to dash themselves against her worthless rocks.
“Hmm, you know…if I was that better man, I might connive to bring you both together.” He paused, his deep blue eyes, so like his mother’s, inspecting her.
She shifted under his gaze. It didn’t feel anything like when the others looked at her. She desperately wanted him to look away.
He huffed. “But James is an insufferable, self-righteous prig who can fight his own battles. I sincerely hope his cock rots off with longing for you.”
Rosalie didn’t know how to possibly respond to this, so said nothing.
The gong rang for lunch, and he stood, stretching his arms out to his sides. “If you get a chance to corner my mother, do see if you can’t winkle out the reason why our mothers fell out. I’m betting ten guineas on a sordid betrayal. If I’m right, and you bring me proof, I shall happily pay you. If the betrayal leans in the direction of a secret love child, I’ll double it.”
Rosalie fought to contain her gasp and the duke laughed.
He leaned down as he passed her chair. “Just imagine the cabbages you could buy with twenty guineas, eh Miss Rose?” Then he swept past her with a chuckle, making no attempt to escort her to the dining room.
She rose to her feet, her mind in a daze. She’d come to thank James for her new riding habit…or chastise him…now she couldn’t quite remember which. Her head felt thickly fogged. Was the duchess a villain who’d used her mother abominably and now owed Rosalie a debt? The duke almost proposed? Burke and James knew and said nothing…James who longed for her…
She didn’t know how long she stood in the empty study, staring down at the book on ancient Mesopotamian battles, before a new, slightly surprised voice spoke behind her.
“Miss Harrow? What are you doing in here?”
She spun around to see James standing in the doorway. A surge of resentment shivered through her. “I was looking for you, my lord. I came to thank you for your kind gesture…but I’m afraid it will be impossible for me to accept. I’ll make sure Sarah has the items returned to the modiste at once.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “The purchases have already been made. I’ll not have a debt between us.”
“There is no debt,” she replied. “But for me to accept such a needlessly extravagant gift would create one. Not to mention it would raise the ire of the other house guests. I’ll ask you to please understand and take no offense.”
His green eyes narrowed as he stepped fully into the room. “What happened?”
She smiled, knowing it didn’t meet her eyes. “Nothing at all, my lord. I am merely ensuring that we avoid any awkward situations. We can’t leave anything to chance, don’t you agree?”
Before he could make a response, she curtsied and scurried away in search of the safety of the crowded dining room.
