Nell nodded. “An unfortunate accident, she calls it. But I overheard two ladies saying she’d done it deliberately, to make her pale skin darker like the Duchess Mazarin.”
To judge from her braying laughter, the Duchess Mazarin thought that a fine jest.
“Lady Rose.”
Rose turned to see the Duke of Bridgewater. “Your grace! I was wondering if you’d attend tonight.”
“You look as though you’ve been having a fine time without me.”
His tone implied he was less than thrilled to find her socializing with two of the king’s mistresses. And now that she thought on it, Rose was a bit scandalized herself. But the truth was she felt more comfortable with these women than she did with most of the others here at court.
Gabriel was the exception, though. Other than proving a tad more amorous than she’d prefer, he’d been the perfect gentleman. “I’m glad you came,” she told him, meaning it.
He drew her a safe distance away. “Where are your earrings?”
She knew she should have worn them. “I adore them, your grace, but they didn’t match my gown.”
“Well, then, these should match whatever you choose to wear.” He fished a tiny silk pouch from his pocket. “A token of my esteem, my lady.”
Rose drew open the drawstring and poured a pair of diamond drops into her hand. The stones winked in the torchlight. “Your grace! They’re exquisite!”
She should have known he would come up with something to outshine all those other men.
“I’m pleased that you like them,” he said, moving close to fasten them on her ears. “Would you care to dance?”
FORTY-SEVEN
“ROSSLYN.” KIT looked up from the sketch he was making of Rose and quickly flipped it over. “What brings you here tonight?”
Rosslyn wandered the drawing room of Kit’s building-in-progress, touching a panel here, eyeing the level there. “Just seeing how you’re coming along.” He squinted up at the half-painted ceiling. “You’ve pulled it off, Martyn, haven’t you? I knew you would.”
Kit glanced overhead at the fat, smiling cherubs the Duchess of Cleveland had requested, thinking, not for the first time, that they didn’t really fit her. The king’s longtime mistress was known to be anything but cherubic. “Something wrong up there?”
“Not at all. It’s stunning, in fact.” Rosslyn lowered his pale blue gaze to meet Kit’s. “Mind if I look around?”
“As you wish.”
Kit lit a second candle and handed it to his friend, then followed closely behind. Not that he had anything to hide. But the last of his men had just left, and he always checked everything one final time before leaving himself.
During the past few days he’d been over every inch of the apartments time and again. Nothing seemed out of place. The materials were up to standard, and there was no sign of sabotage, fire or otherwise. Apart from some understandable grumbling when Kit kept them long hours, no one on the job seemed unhappy. No one had sighted Harold Washburn, either.
Apparently the man hadn’t set the fire at Whitehall—or, at the very least, he’d heeded Kit’s warning and was keeping clear now.
“Very nice.” In the master bedchamber, the young earl nodded at a carved mantelpiece. “Gibbons’s work, I presume?”
“Yes.”
His walking stick tapped as he continued his rambling inspection. “I suppose a Deputy Surveyor ought to insist on the best.”
Kit grunted. “I haven’t won the post yet.” Trailing him into the dining room, Kit watched the long tails of Rosslyn’s lavender surcoat flap behind him. “Anyhow, it’s only an interim goal. I won’t be satisfied until the Surveyor General post is mine.”
His friend turned to face him. “I’ll alert Mr. Wren that you’re angling to take his place.”
“Sir Christopher Wren,” Kit reminded him. “But I doubt he’ll find that a revelation.”
Rosslyn waved an elegant hand. “I was jesting. Can you not take a jest?”
“Sorry. I suppose I’m a bit serious these days.”
“Understandable, my friend.” Rosslyn smiled. “Well, I expect I had better get back to court. Excellent job here, Martyn.” Still tapping, he retraced his steps to the entrance. “Excellent job, indeed.”
As the fellow walked out, Kit was only half surprised to see Rose’s mother walk in. “Lady Trentingham. I didn’t know you’d come to Hampton Court.”
“Good evening, Kit.” She watched Rosslyn’s retreating back, then turned to Kit in a swish of yellow skirts. “A friend of yours, is he?”
“An old schoolfellow. Now my rival for the post I’m seeking.”
“Lord Rosslyn doesn’t seem to be working very hard to best you. From what I’ve seen, he spends all his time at court.”
Kit shrugged. “An earl doesn’t have to prove himself the way a common man does.” He could be bitter about that, but he’d long ago decided not to waste his time raging over life’s inequities. Better to spend one’s energies overcoming them. “How did you get in here?” he asked. “The only way is through the privy gardens.”
He hadn’t thought to ask the same of Rosslyn.
Her brown eyes lit with intrigue. “I had the most lovely conversation with the guard at the gate. It seems he is lonely and desirous of a wife. Since by all appearances he’s a perfectly nice young man, I promised to send Rose’s maid Harriet over to meet him after I complete my business here. Lovely girl, Harriet.”
“I’m sure she is.” The privy garden was supposed to be private to the king. Kit wondered if he should alert King Charles that his guard was so easily bribed. “And what is your business?”
“Oh, I just wanted to see how you were faring. My husband, naturally, is anxious for you to get back to work on his greenhouse.”
“Naturally.”
“So how are you faring?”
“Without my presence here the project has fallen slightly behind schedule, but not so far that the time cannot be made up.” The bonuses he’d promised would ensure it. “Everything seems to be in order.”
“Seems?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “This nagging voice in my head keeps insisting something is wrong.” Something he was missing. No
