“What did you say?” Rosalie whispered.
“I said I’ve settled all your father’s outstanding debts,” the duchess repeated. She leaned over towards the edge of the sofa and picked up a stack of envelopes from the side table wrapped in a blue ribbon. “I have a full accounting here. Everything my agent could find. I’ll leave it with you to review, and if anything is missing, tell me and I will settle it.” She held out the stack.
Rosalie was suddenly standing before the duchess, the proof of her father’s wastefulness in her hands, burning her cheeks with hot, bubbling shame. “You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered.
“Well, it’s done now,” the duchess replied. “And I’ve also settled all your mother’s medical expenses. I sent the cheque to your aunt a few days ago. I imagine you crossed paths with it in transit here.”
This was too much. Rosalie sank back onto her sofa. The bundle of sins dropped from her hands to the carpet as she covered her face. Rosalie had resigned herself to the idea that her father’s debts would follow her into her own grave. How was she ever to repay such a kindness? She took a steadying breath and lifted her head, eyes shining with tears.
“I don’t understand…please tell me why. I must know what I have done to deserve you as a benefactress.”
“As I said, your mother and I were friends. Our lives drifted apart when I became duchess. But I’d like to think, if our situations were reversed, she would offer me the same help. I only regret I was too late to help her while she lived.”
“But this is too much—”
“For you, maybe. For me, it is little more than pin money. I am not a heroine, Miss Rose. Remove that notion from your mind,” she added with a stern look. “I am a duchess with an expense account that rivals that of some kingdoms. That being said, I’d appreciate it if you would say nothing about this in front of my son. He likes to think he controls my spending, silly dear.”
Rosalie didn’t like the sound of that. Keep secrets from the duke? It wasn’t her way to indulge in secrets, but she somehow found herself saying, “I would never presume to speak out of turn in front of His Grace—”
“No, not George,” the duchess corrected with a soft laugh. “He wouldn’t care a fig if I bought all of Jerusalem. I’m talking about James. You are not to speak to him about this. I will handle him in my own way. And if there are any additional debts to settle, you will do it through me. Understand?”
Rosalie nodded, reaching for the envelopes. “Would you at least let me try to work off the debt? I could work here, Your Grace. I’d gladly work here.”
The duchess snorted. “My youngest child is five and twenty, and already graduated from Eton and Oxford. I doubt very much James would take kindly to gaining you as his governess.”
“Please, Your Grace, I cannot just accept this gift without any attempt at repayment. There must be something—”
“Oh, there is,” the duchess replied. “I’m not sure how much you already know about the house party I’ve planned…”
“I only know you invited some of your friends to stay.”
“True enough, but this is not just any house party,” the duchess replied. “You must know my son needs a wife.” At Rosalie’s look of shock, she laughed again and said, “Oh no, dear, of course I don’t mean you. No, despite my cancelling your debts, you remain penniless. You’ve no connections, no hope of advancement, no breeding. You’re quite possibly the worst possible choice I could imagine.” She arched a brow. “Does my bluntness pain you?”
“Not at all, Your Grace. I find it refreshing.”
The duchess held her gaze a moment longer before saying, “I brought you here to serve a dual purpose. First, I’d like you as my spy. Meet the other girls, learn about them, feel them out for vice or foul temper…and report directly to me.”
Rosalie’s breath caught in her throat. “But…why can’t you just ask them your questions like you are doing with me now?”
“You think I can so easily corner the daughter of the Marquess of Deal and press her to reveal her secrets? She was born and bred to be a veritable vault of scheming and social climbing. We cannot all be as unguarded in tongue and manner as you, Miss Harrow,” she added. It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.
“No,” the duchess went on, “I want someone they will not see as a threat. Someone who can watch them interact with my son and help me determine which will make the best fit. For this will not be any ordinary marriage, Miss Harrow. The woman George picks will be the next Duchess of Norland. I want him married and settled, but not at the expense of the Corbin family’s honor. Certainly not at the expense of Alcott Hall.”
Rosalie saw the sense in this, even if she disliked the idea of herself playing the role of informant. “Can I tell no one my task? Your sons, or Mr. Burke, or—”
“Absolutely not,” the duchess said. “I imagine they will guess soon enough, but for now you are to stick to the story that you are Elinor’s daughter, here to spend time with me as my guest. And you will attend the ball, of course.”
Rosalie swallowed. “I…I’d not thought…I didn’t actually bring a ball gown, Your Grace. I have an evening dress I could wear—”
“Heaven’s no. I’ll ring down to the modiste in Carrington and get something started. Leave your measurements with your maid.”
Rosalie was in too deep at this point. What was a ball gown on top of her other debts? She just nodded. After a moment she glanced up. “You mentioned a dual purpose, Your Grace. Acting as your spy was one service. What is the other?”
The duchess smiled. “We can’t go revealing all our cards in the first hand, Miss Harrow. Let’s start with my first request and see where that gets us. I shall expect a report in a few days, after you’ve had a chance to meet the ladies.”
Rosalie nodded again, at a complete loss for words.
“I think we’ve left the rest of the party in suspense for long enough. It will shortly be time for tea and you can meet the other ladies. I will warn you, they have sharp claws and sharper tongues, Miss Harrow.”
“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” Rosalie said with her own smile. “As Mr. Burke can attest, I am well able to fight my own corner. A marquess’ daughter doesn’t scare me.”
“Good girl,” the duchess replied with a smile.
Rosalie got to her feet, envelopes in hand. She turned to leave.
“Oh, and Miss Harrow…”
Rosalie turned back around.
The duchess’ face was now mirthless. “I’ll not presume to speak for Tom Renley. He is not my child; his affairs are his own. But I do speak for George and James, and I also speak for Burke. Know yourself, Miss Harrow. Know your place. There is nothing I like less than a devious social climber.”
Rosalie’s heart pounded, but she found enough strength in her voice to say, “You direct your threat at the wrong person, Your Grace. As I’ve already said, I have no interest in marriage. If any of the gentlemen under your charge seek to claim me as a wife, it will be their hearts that break…not mine.”
