“A boxing match? But…wouldn’t that be dangerous?” Rosalie murmured.
Burke laughed. “Hardly. And it’s for charity.”
They were sitting together in the corner of the drawing room. The mood was festive tonight as the group waited for Wilson to announce dinner. Everyone was getting excited for the engagement party. Rosalie had her last gown fitting earlier that afternoon and had only just made it back to the house in time to change for dinner.
Across the room, Olivia actually seemed to be making an effort at civility as she chatted with the handsome Lord Talbot, eldest son of the Viscount Roydon. Rosalie counted as the lady flashed him a smile no less than three times.
“What do we make of that?” she murmured, raising her glass of sherry to her lips and pointing with her eyes.
Burke followed her glance and frowned. “About that…I may have done something today you would call meddling.”
Rosalie swallowed her sip of sherry with a grimace. “Oh Burke, what did you do?”
“I spoke to Hartington.”
Rosalie blinked, letting herself absorb those words. She couldn’t deny that she’d had the thought herself. She was desperate to know what went so wrong between them. “And?” she whispered, scooting to the edge of her chair.
“And I think he’s in love with her,” he murmured.
Her heart pounded in her chest. “Oh Burke…oh, this could change everything. This could be a real chance for them. A love match. Surely, she will consider him as a suitor. We must add him to our list—”
“Don’t be too hasty to start ringing wedding bells,” he muttered.
Her excitement vanished. “Why?”
“Apparently he proposed to her once before—”
She gasped. “What?”
“Easy,” he warned, his eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching them too closely. “Aye, he was leaving for his first tour. He proposed, she declined. And today he said…and I quote…’Hell will freeze over before I bend the knee again. If Livy wants me, she’ll ask me.’”
“Oh Burke…” Rosalie’s eye trailed over towards Olivia, all her hopes vanishing like a puff of smoke. In what reality would the head-strong, self-important Lady Olivia Rutledge ever bend her knee and propose to a bastard sailor? As her hope diminished, frustration had room to bloom. “Would she really rather marry Lord Talbot and become his drawing room ornament, when she could have a life of travel and adventure with a handsome and daring sea captain?”
“Christ, help me. Not you too,” Burke muttered. “Did you just call him handsome? Don’t make me drag you out of here and claim you in the hallway.”
Before she could respond, the drawing room door opened, and Wilson announced dinner. The room chattered with excitement as everyone got to their feet.
Rosalie stood, taking the hand Burke offered. They didn’t make it out of the room before James came pressing in.
Burke smiled at his approach. “All well?” His smile fell as he took in the determined look on his friend’s face.
“I need to speak to you,” James muttered, eyes only for Rosalie.
She glanced around the emptying drawing room. “What…now?”
“Now.”
Burke’s hand curled protectively over hers on his arm. “Can’t it wait until after dinner? People will notice—”
“Make her excuses,” James ordered. “Tell them she’s overtired and returned to her room.”
Burke glowered at him. “Tell me what this is about.”
James glared right back. “Burke, go. You know one of us will fill you in later.”
Burke glanced between them, a brow raised to Rosalie in question.
She tried to give him a reassuring smile, even as her pulse raced. Something was wrong with James. He wouldn’t make this kind of show otherwise. Something was definitely wrong, and she desperately needed to know what it was.
“I’ll be fine,” she murmured.
Giving them both a last look, Burke dropped her arm and stalked off after the retreating dinner crowd.
Wasting no time, James held out his hand. “Come with me.”
