And Rose was clearly and truly miserable.
When Rand lowered his lips to meet Lily’s, Rose turned away. Behind her, Judith was grinning up at her own betrothed—although only a little way up, since his stature was less than impressive. Lord Grenville was five-and-thirty to Judith’s twenty, and his pale brown hair was thinning on top, but Rose imagined that the way Judith looked at him made him feel like a king. And he looked down on her in a way that surely made pretty, plump Judith feel like a queen.
Rose wanted someone who’d make her feel like a queen. Good God, a duchess or countess would do. Or even a lowly baroness…
As the years crawled by without a husband on the horizon, she was getting less picky. So long as the man was titled, handsome, rich, and powerful, most anyone was acceptable.
The guests parted as Lily and Rand began making their way from the chapel. They’d taken but a few steps when a cat, a squirrel, and a chirping sparrow came to join them.
Rose moved to hug her sister. “It was beautiful,” she murmured. “I’m so happy for you.”
She was. Truly she was.
Lily leaned down to pick up the cat, straightening with a brilliant smile. “Your turn next.”
A hurt retort came to Rose’s mind, but she wouldn’t snap at her sister on her wedding day.
“I’m happy for you, too, Rand,” she said instead, rising on her toes to give her sister’s new husband a kiss on the cheek. But not too far up on her toes, because Rose was a tall woman. Too tall, perhaps, or too slim, or too quick-tongued…or too something.
There had to be some reason she had yet to find love.
Too intelligent, most likely. At one point, she’d thought Rand might be the man for her. Handsome, titled, and a professor of linguistics at Oxford—surely a good match for Rose, given her own exceptional command of foreign languages. But he’d chosen her little sister.
“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he said now, making Rose feel the unluckiest woman.
She’d had better days.
Lily must have noticed her dejected expression, because her fingers stopped stroking the cat’s striped fur. Concern clouded her lovely blue eyes. “You will be next,” she said quietly.
“Undoubtedly so, since I’m the only one left,” Rose quipped. “Unless, that is, Rowan manages to find himself a bride before I find a groom.”
They both swung to look at their eleven-year-old brother where he stood with Violet’s young niece, Jewel, their dark heads close together as they whispered animatedly.
“He may have found himself a bride already,” Rose added dryly.
Lily’s laughter rang through the chapel, echoing off the molded dome ceiling. “Surely someone will claim you long before Rowan gets it in his head to wed. Why, you’re the most beautiful of all of us, Rose!”
Rose had always thought Lily the most beautiful, but she knew she was beautiful, too. Yet beauty, she’d learned, was not enough to hook a husband.
Well-wishers pressed closer. Rose began moving toward the drawing room and found Judith by her side. Forsaking her betrothed, Judith clutched Rose’s arm. “Who is that handsome fellow?” she whispered conspiratorially.
Rose slid a glance to the man in question, a friend of Rand’s whose gaze suddenly met hers, then skimmed her body in a way that might have made her heart pound…if she were at all interested. “That’s Mr. Christopher Martyn—Rand calls him Kit. He’s an architect,” she added dismissively.
“Christopher Martyn, the architect?” Awe hushed Judith’s voice. “Hasn’t King Charles recently awarded him a contract to renovate Whitehall Palace?”
“Along with Windsor Castle and Hampton Court.”
“Ah, a man of intelligence to complement yours.” Clearly Judith considered the man’s lack of a title no impediment. “No need for you to play the featherbrained coquette for him.”
“I’ve no interest in him. And I’ve never acted featherbrained.” But perhaps now was the time to start.
On her sisters’ advice, Rose had tried to win Rand by appealing to his intellect, but that hadn’t worked at all. Never again would she attempt to attract a man by flaunting her brains. No matter what her family or Judith said, she knew there were better ways to entice gentlemen.
Unfortunately, where Rand was concerned, she’d come to that conclusion too late. To her intense embarrassment, she’d stooped to propositioning him in her family’s summerhouse, and when that hadn’t worked, desperation had driven her to attempt bribery and trickery of the worst kind.
She couldn’t imagine what had come over her that day and had feared she’d never be able to look Rand in the face again. But to her utter relief he seemed at ease with her, as though he’d graciously forgotten that humiliating episode.
“You cannot tell me,” Judith whispered, dragging Rose back to the present, “that you don’t find Mr. Martyn attractive.”
Rose slanted Kit another covert look. Dressed in forest-toned velvet, he was tall and lean, his hair dark as jet, his eyes a startling mix of brown and green. She dredged up a wry smile. “I’d have to be blind to claim that.”
“And he looks ever so nice. Do you think he’s nice?”
“He’s nice enough.” Except for those unusual eyes, which were decidedly not nice. Wicked would be a better description.
“And good Lord, he’s building things for the king! I’m certain he has money—”
“Money,” Rose interrupted pointedly, “does not make up for lack of a title.”
Her sister Violet walked up, sans children for once. “Who needs a title?”
Judith crossed her arms. “Lady Rose apparently wishes to become Lady Something-Higher.”
“Oh, well.” Violet sent Rose an indulgent smile. “That’s only because she has yet to fall in love.”
Rose smiled in return. “And given that it’s as easy to fall in love with a titled man as one without, I’ve decided to concentrate on the former.”
Violet and Judith exchanged a glance that set Rose’s teeth on edge, then left her, to return to their respective men.
Since Lily had given their mother barely two weeks to plan the event, the wedding party was
