FORTY-TWO
NOT TOO MUCH later, Rose found herself upstairs flanked by her sisters, the three of them lying crosswise on her oak four-poster bed, staring straight up.
“Tell us about the duke,” Violet said to the underside of Rose’s crimson velvet canopy.
“He’s very generous and handsome and kind,” Rose returned morosely. “He gave me these ruby and pearl earrings.”
Her sisters both turned to look. Violet touched a finger to one of the delicate drops. “They’re lovely.”
“Goodness!” Lily exclaimed. “He sounds perfect. Exactly what you were looking for. Do you think he likes you?”
“Very much.” Rose sighed. “I won’t be surprised if at Hampton Court I receive my first proposal.”
Violet came up on an elbow. “Then why do you sound so melancholy?”
When Rose turned her head to see Violet, her sister’s warm brown eyes looked too concerned behind the lenses of her spectacles. She focused back up on the canopy. “I don’t care for the way he kisses.”
“Oh…” her sisters said together in a way that made it clear they considered this as important a problem as she did.
Rose wasn’t sure whether she was glad or frustrated at that fact. Part of her wished they’d tell her to marry the duke and be done with it.
“Is his kiss…sloppy?” Lily asked.
“No.”
“Rough?” Violet wondered.
“No.”
“Then what?” they both chimed.
“I’m not sure. There’s nothing wrong with his kisses. I just don’t enjoy them. They don’t make me feel anything.” Rose crossed her feet where they hung off the end of the bed. She uncrossed them. Her voice dropped miserably. “For the longest time, I didn’t like anyone’s kisses. I thought something was wrong with me. Until…”
Now Lily came up on an elbow. “Until what?”
Rose felt hemmed in. She looked at her older sister, then her younger, then back to the canopy. “I’ve found one man whose kisses make me melt. But he’s totally unsuitable.”
“In what way?” Lily’s voice was heartbreakingly sympathetic.
“In every way. He’s a commoner. And he works for a living.”
“Rand works,” Lily said defensively. “Don’t you think being a professor is a lot of hard work?”
“But Rand doesn’t have to work. He works because he wants to. Good God, he’s an earl, and someday he’ll be a marquess.”
“That wasn’t always the case, and he never minded working. And it didn’t bother me to think of marrying him when he did have to work. In fact, it didn’t bother you, either, if I recall correctly. You were perfectly willing to chase Rand when he was only a professor.”
“He was never only a professor.” Rose didn’t care for Lily’s affronted tone, nor for the reminder of how foolishly she’d pursued her sister’s husband. “Even before he became an earl, he was Lord Randal Nesbitt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with work,” Lily insisted.
“Of course there isn’t!” Frustrated, Rose pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. She rubbed her face as her sisters came up beside her. “It’s only that I had a plan for my life, and this man isn’t part of it.”
“Is he poor?” Violet asked.
“No,” she said, thankful she could say that at least, else she’d get the same kind of tirade from Violet that she’d just heard from Lily. Violet’s husband, after all, had been poor as a churchmouse when they met.
“It’s Kit, isn’t it?” Lily suddenly guessed.
“No,” Rose denied quickly, then sighed at Lily’s perceptive gaze and added, “How did you know?”
“I’ve both eyes and ears in my head. You’re surprisingly familiar with the man’s projects, and you cannot deny you thought him handsome the day you met. And he was drawn to you. I was there, if you’ll remember. And he is not totally unsuitable.”
“I want to love the duke,” Rose wailed.
“Sometimes,” Violet said softly, “we cannot choose these things.”
All three of them sighed in unison.
Lily reached to cover Rose’s hands where she’d clenched them together in her lap. “At least Mum isn’t trying to match you with Kit,” she offered with forced cheerfulness.
“That’s right,” Violet said. The one thing they’d all agreed on, from the time they were small girls, was that they didn’t want any part of Chrystabel’s matchmaking schemes. “She’s taking you to Hampton Court to spend more time with the duke.”
“But she invited Kit here,” Rose realized suddenly. “And to supper in London.”
“True,” Violet conceded. “But she probably just wanted to make sure he follows through with Father’s greenhouse.”
“Probably.” That thought was a relief. The last thing Rose wanted was Mum trying to marry her off to Kit. Once Chrystabel got something like that in her head, the pressure would be tremendous. “She likes Kit’s sister, too. Perhaps she felt sorry for Ellen and invited her to the town house to cheer her up. Kit would naturally have had to come along. And, oh!” she added, “I almost forgot. I’ve borrowed a book from Ellen that you two may find very interesting.”
Just the thing to take her mind off these gloomy thoughts.
“A book?” Violet loved books.
“Not one to read—unless you read Italian.” She hurried over to her trunk to fetch I Sonetti. “Mostly you’ll want to see the engravings. The ladies at court found them fascinating.”
“The ladies at court?” Lily reached for the book.
“You’ve never even been to court.” Violet snatched it away.
“I vow and swear, neither of you ever grew up.” Knowing she was no better, Rose laughed as she took it back. “Let me sit again between you.”
She wedged her wine-skirted bottom onto the bed between Violet’s lavender skirts and Lily’s yellow ones. After settling the book on her lap, she slowly opened it.
“Goodness.” Lily’s eyes widened. She was newly wedded, after all. “May I borrow this?”
“No. It’s not mine.” Rose flipped a page, then another. “Now look at this. Is this even possible?”
Lily shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Oh, that works fine,” Violet assured them, her gaze glued to the book as Rose turned to a new engraving. “But wait”—she put a hand over Rose’s to hold it in place—“I cannot imagine how this one would work.”
Both of Rose’s married sisters had
