Somehow, Rosalie found her way back to her room and managed to change for dinner. She was lost in the moment of her encounter with James, replaying their conversation in her mind. Each time she thought she understood who he was and what he wanted from her, he changed his behavior. It was maddening.
At first, she was certain she was merely a nuisance. As the weeks at Alcott wore on, she distracted him by nature of being hopelessly unsuitable. By the night of the ball, it became clear his interest was not entirely chaste. She still felt the heat of his kisses on her lips. But the carriage ride to London confirmed her suspicions: James had no interest in romance. For him, this was purely physical—he wanted her scent, her touch. No emotions. No friendship. He asked her to respect his boundaries, and she knew it was the right course of action for them both.
But heavens if she didn’t dream about it…
Just last night, she’d fallen asleep between Burke and Renley, dreaming of a world where she might have James too. A world where he could love her and let himself be loved. She wanted to imagine a man like James Corbin could want her. That she could be enough. But in the harsh light of morning, those dreams were gone, faded away with the dew. James remained cold and distant, wholly uninterested. Who was he to be upset that she did as he asked and remained distant in return?
But then they had to meet on the stairs. Here was a different James entirely. A vulnerable James. A James with worries and cares he was willing to confide. He was leaning on her…literally.
The man is infuriating!
Well, Rosalie would not be standing around waiting for him to decide whether he wanted her. She had entirely too much on her plate to fathom wasting another moment on sussing out James Corbin and his mercurial personality. She was going to live her life on her terms, and if he chose to be part of it, he must be the one to bend to her.
She shimmied herself into one of the new evening gowns—a dusky pink design with a pleated skirt and lace accents at the bust and sleeves. Just one more way James was determined to drive her mad: dressing her like his own little doll. She should throw all the clothes in the lake!
But that would leave her with nothing suitable to wear…
Sighing, she fastened the dress in the front and added the three-strand pearl necklace. It was a bit formal, but wearing nothing looked just as strange. She wore the diamond clasp to the back, which helped to lessen the grandeur of the look ever so slightly. With a nod to her reflection in the mirror, and a calming breath, she went in search of the gentlemen causing her such trouble.
Rosalie didn’t make it past the entry hall before she found them all together. Burke and James were both dressed in sleek black coattails, crisp white waistcoats and cravats, and sharply tailored pants. Their shoes were polished to shine and Burke looked like he may even have a bit of pomade slicking back his hair.
Renley stood to the side, saying something low to Burke as the butler handed off an evening coat, top hat, and gloves to James. A footman quickly did the same for Burke.
“Good evening, Miss Harrow,” called the butler in that gravelly voice.
She paused on the stairs, one hand on the rail, as three sets of eyes turned towards her. “I forgot you would be out this evening,” she said in greeting. It was true. In the rush and bustle of the day, it had completely slipped her mind that they were making the rounds at the gentlemen’s clubs tonight.
“We were just heading out,” said Burke, stepping over quickly and offering a hand. She took it with a smile, letting him escort her down the last few steps that were now completely clear of the broken vase. He led her over to the others.
She glanced at Renley, who was still dressed in his riding attire from the morning. “Are you not joining them?”
He shrugged. “I’m not a member at White’s or Brooks’s. I leave the politics to these two.”
“I’m only a member because he forced them to let me in,” Burke added, shooting James a glare.
“The coffee at White’s is superb,” James replied, donning his hat.
Burke laughed. “True enough. You know I will consent to nearly anything for a good cup of coffee…including a tortuous night spent drinking and smoking with men I despise. Dandies, the lot of them.”
“Surely the aristocracy are not all bad,” James muttered.
“I’ve long made an exception for you, but even you have your moments,” Burke replied, donning his own hat.
James narrowed his eyes. “Good to know you tolerate me…since I pay all your bills and shelter you…and clothe you and feed you and—”
“Enough.” Burke elbowed him. “You’ve made your point. Lead on, oh magnanimous one.”
James turned to the butler. “We will probably be out late.”
“Very good, my lord,” replied Wilson.
Burke nudged Rosalie. “Don’t get into any trouble while we’re away, eh? A sensible dinner, a quiet night spent reading by the fire, and in bed by nine o’clock.”
She laughed softly. “Are you listing my itinerary, or what you’d rather be doing, sir?”
He smirked. “Both.” He turned to Renley. “Keep her entertained til we get back?”
Renley glanced down at her, his mouth splitting into a grin. “We shall recite from Fordyce’s sermons, cozy by the fire.”
Burke looked around, noting the position of the butler at James’ side and the pair of footmen by the doors. He stepped a little closer to Rosalie, lowering his voice. “I’m not kissing you farewell because the footmen have loose lips…but know that I want to…and I fully intend to make up for it later.”
She inched away from him, giving him her best siren’s smile. “Only if I let you.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched as his grey eyes narrowed. “Temptress,” he muttered.
“Go now, sir. Get yourself unengaged as quickly as possible.”
“Christ, I’d quite forgotten the whole purpose of this charade. Now I’m even more miserable.” He turned away, shrugging on his overcoat. “Come on, James. Let’s get this bloody over with.”
The footmen and butler followed James and Burke outside, leaving Rosalie standing alone with Renley.
“You need not bother changing for dinner if it is just we two,” she said. “We could ask for trays in the library.”
He turned to her with a smile. “I have a better idea. What if we dispense with dinner altogether? You run up and get changed, and we’ll take to the park for a sunset ride.”
Rosalie pursued her lips. “That is the opposite of Burke’s itinerary.”
Leaning in, Renley grinned like an imp as he murmured, “And you desperately want to say ‘yes.’”
She bit her lip, fighting her smile. “Of course, I do. Give me ten minutes?”
Renley’s laugh followed her up the stairs.
