The Duke Conspiracy (23 page)

“I wish I could, Mary, but I still fear that
he will have difficulty being reasonable about this, especially as
the duke is still involved. And just this morning my mother was
mentioning that Papa has to go away again, this time to Paris. They
were wondering whether or not Mama and I ought to join him, but
they decided it is too important for me to continue with my first
Season.” At this last bit Rose could not help the tone of disgust
that crept into her voice and the roll of her eyes which
accompanied her words. “Can you believe I shall be missing out on
Paris, Mary?”

“But do you not think it is wise, Miss? For
one thing, the Season is important for one such as yourself, and
for another, if you cannot confide in your father, then you have to
sort this situation with Broderick out yourself.”

“You are quite right, Mary, but I still wish
I could go. Mayhap, from what we have learned about Broderick, he
will be going to Paris as well, and I could investigate him from
there.”

“Or he might be just waiting for an
opportunity such as this, when many of the government gents are out
of Town to act on whatever nefarious plot he has cooked up.”

Now it was Rose's turn to have widened eyes.
She gazed at her maid with concern. “You have such a good point
there, Mary. You are quite correct, I certainly must be vigilant.
It is a good thing I have already arranged to meet with Wrentham. I
so wish I had stuck with the duke's suggestion of meeting tomorrow
instead of the day after,” she mused, staring off into the near
distance. “Do you think it would be remarked upon if I were to be
seen speaking to him in public? If we were to find ourselves at the
same entertainments this evening, do you think I could talk to him
without my mother catching wind of it?”

Mary looked at her mistress with worry
clearly etched in her face. “I don't rightly know, Miss. Do enough
people know about your families' issues for it to become an item
for the gossips if it was noticed? Because if it is, your mama is
sure to find out.”

“You are quite correct, as usual. But if an
opportunity arises, I will take the chance and tell him to meet me
tomorrow. I do not think I could bear to wait an entire day. Or
perhaps I should send him a note.” At catching sight of Mary's
dubious expression, Rose answered her own unspoken question. “No,
of course not, none of the footmen would be able to keep that to
themselves, and then I would definitely be in the suds.”

“They say patience is a virtue, Miss.”

Rose could not resist sticking her tongue out
at her maid. “You and I both know that it is not one I possess. But
you are quite right; I shall have to pretend that I have some if I
cannot contrive a way to speak with His Grace this evening.” Rose
resolved to put the matter from her mind for the time being. “Now
we are nearly home and I have been gone for far longer than I had
expected. It is nearly time for me to begin my preparations for the
ball I am to attend this evening. I hope I have not kept you overly
from your duties,” she was quite contrite.

“Well, Miss, considering most of my duties
revolve around you, I'm thinking you didn't keep me from anything.”
Mary grinned at her mistress in a fine humor.

The two girls climbed the front stairs of
their own home and the door was opened swiftly.

“Welcome home, Miss.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of
activity as Rose bathed and primped in preparation for the ball.
She shared a light repast with her mother before they each returned
to their chambers to conclude their dressing. It had been a quiet
meal with rather stilted conversation. Lady Smythe was even more
distant than usual, so Rose found it difficult to engage with her.
She chalked this up to her father's departure. Even before the
tragedy her mother had always hated it when her husband traveled,
but since it had become almost a phobia. Rose hoped her mother
would be able to cope because she would be rather too occupied over
the next few days to be able to assist her. It was one more worry
to buzz around at the back of her mind, where she pushed it in
order to concentrate on the upcoming evening.

Looking into the mirror as Mary put the
finishing touches to her hair, Rose could not help but appreciate
her own reflection. She was not an arrogant girl, but she could see
that her excitement had put a flattering blush into her cheeks,
which was thankfully complementary to the shade of her gown.

Lady Smythe seemed to float next to Rose as
they descended into the crowded ballroom after having been
announced and greeted their host and hostess. Rose could see that
it was going to be a successful event. Their hostess would be
gratified by the number of people who had accepted her invitation
and were cramming themselves into the elegantly appointed, but not
overly large, room. Rose hoped that meant she would be able to ever
so discreetly seek out Alex and arrange to meet up on the morrow,
if he were indeed present.

Slowly descending, Rose gazed about at the
milling multitude, struggling to distinguish faces in the crowds.
Plastering a pleasant, social smile onto her face she turned to
check on her mother, hoping she would be all right on her own.
Feeling a niggle of worried guilt, Rose solicitously got her
settled amongst her friends before she went off to pursue her own
activities.

Bumping into Emmaline and her sister, Rose
exchanged pleasantries for a moment before Emmaline was swept off
to the dance floor by a pleasant gentleman. Unfortunately,
Constance was rather more difficult to carry a conversation with
once her sister was absent. Rose made the effort, deciding it was
excellent practice for her future life as a Society hostess.

“Have you been having a pleasant evening,
Lady Constance?”

“Very pleasant, thank you, Miss Rose.”

“Good, good. Did you do anything particularly
interesting today?”

“Not particularly, Miss.”

“That is unfortunate. I made a few lovely
morning calls this afternoon. It was most pleasant.”

“Oh, how pleasant.”

Rose began to find it to be an amusing game
and persevered. “You look lovely this evening, Lady Constance.”

“Thank you so very much, Miss Rose.” For a
moment, Constance looked gratified by her compliment, but then she
again looked confused and slipped back into vacuity. “You look
lovely this evening too.”

“Why thank you so much, Lady Constance. I
cannot say that shopping is my favorite activity, but I am pleased
with this particular purchase. I think my modiste did a smashingly
good job.” Rose tried to keep her grin within bounds but feared she
failed miserably. Gratifyingly, Constance responded to her
conversational gambit.

“How could you possibly not enjoy shopping,
Miss Rosamund? Just this afternoon my sister and I spent an
enjoyable few hours on Bond Street. It is one of the very best
parts of coming to Town. You should see the darling gowns I
ordered. And Emmaline bought a perfectly scrumptious hat to go with
her new riding habit. The dressmakers here are so much better than
the ones in the village near our estate. I do declare I would
happily shop every day.”

“Lady Constance, I had no idea. Perhaps I
ought to accompany you on a visit to Bond Street and you can show
me how to have an enjoyable time there.”

“That would be my pleasure any time you would
like, Miss Rose.”

Rose was happy that she had managed to have
what amounted to a real conversation with the other young woman,
but blessedly, Lord Kenneth came to claim her hand for the dance
before she had to come up with any more conversational efforts.

“Thank you, my lord, how could you possibly
have known that I most particularly wanted to dance the quadrille?”
Rose asked playfully.

The young lord looked slightly embarrassed by
her question, but manfully responded, “Does not everyone love the
quadrille, Miss Rosamund? I thought you looked particularly
fetching this evening and wanted to twirl you around the dance
floor for this number.”

“Well, I thank you kindly for the invitation,
my lord.”

For a moment the dance took them apart from
each other, but they were able to resume their conversation as they
re-partnered.

“Are you enjoying your evening, Miss Rose?”
he asked pleasantly.

“I am, very much so, thank you, my lord,” she
replied, smiling as she heard the surprise evident in her tone. He
must have noticed and was not such a dullard as to ignore it.

“Why do you sound so surprised, Miss
Rose?”

“In all honesty, the Season has not been my
idea of a rollicking good time up until now. I cannot say that I
particularly enjoy the large crowds of people, and the constant
need for gossip wears on my ears. On the other hand, I love the
dancing and I have met some lovely people that are fast becoming
good friends, so I think it is turning out to be a good experience.
But I sounded surprised because just a week or two ago I would not
have been able to fathom the possibility of having a good time at
an event such as this.”

“You are not the usual sort of debutante are
you?” he asked, with a tease in his voice.

“I think perhaps many debutantes find the
Season is not quite what they had anticipated, they just manage to
hide it better than I do,” Rose replied with a cheeky grin.

They were again separated, but when they
returned to their places Rose asked her partner, “Have you had much
opportunity to talk with Lady Constance? I had a lovely
conversation with her just before you invited me to the dance.”

“I apologize if I interrupted,” he began
before he answered her question. “But no, I cannot say that I have
ever managed to have a conversation with Lady Constance. In all
honesty, I thought I was rescuing you when I asked you to
dance.”

“Well thank you ever so much for the
gallantry,” Rose grinned, “But you may be surprised to know that if
you try hard enough you can get a conversation out of her. I asked
her about shopping and was shocked nearly speechless by the
results. You should try it, my lord. She really is a lovely
girl.”

Rose would never have considered herself to
be a matchmaker, but she found she quite enjoyed the prospect of
matching up various of her acquaintances. Neither of these two were
wordy talkers but they both seemed to be kind individuals. Rose
thought Lord Kenneth's quiet kindness and strength would be a
lovely match for Lady Constance's shyness. Rose could almost see
the wheels turning in his lordship's thought processes as he mulled
over her words. She was not at all surprised when he escorted her
back to Constance and then invited that young lady to the next
dance.

Rose was standing on the side of the dance
floor, momentarily alone, smiling happily, when she heard a quiet
voice behind her. “Why are you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?”

It took a great deal of will power to control
her reaction as she felt a shiver creep up her spine and her skin
break out in gooseflesh. “Good evening, Your Grace,” she replied,
without turning around or looking at him. Anyone watching would not
even know they had acknowledged one another. At least not yet. Rose
plied her fan to hide the movement of her lips.

“You look lovelier than ever, Miss Rose,”
Alex complimented from behind her, keeping himself obscured by an
artfully placed potted fern.

Rose could feel a blush creeping up her
cheeks but steadfastly kept her gaze upon the dance floor, waving
the fan more vigorously in an attempt to stem the rising tide of
her blush. Ignoring his comment and keeping her voice just above a
whisper she muttered, “I really need to speak to you quite
urgently.”

“There is a broom closet just beyond the
retiring rooms. Go get yourself a glass of punch and then, if no
one is watching, head toward the ladies' retiring room. If still no
one is around, I will whisk you into the broom closet for a moment
of speech.”

“Your Grace, I am absolutely certain that is
a terrible idea,” she stated with a laugh sounding in her voice.
There was no reply from behind her as Alex had already left.

Glancing around, Rose saw that it did not
appear that anyone had taken any notice of her. To be on the safe
side, she took a turn about the room slowly, keeping her eye on the
dance floor, watching out for her friends and glancing around to
check on her mother. Seeing that everything seemed to be in its
place for the moment, Rose thought that she just might be able to
pull off such a questionable stunt. She set off for the refreshment
room at a brisk pace, reasoning that no one would stop her if she
looked like she knew what she was doing.

A sudden attack of nerves made her mouth dry
and she was grateful for Alex's suggestion that she have a glass of
the delicious punch. Rose was surprised by the quality of the cool
drink. So often it seemed barely more than flavored water. She
dithered for a moment over the punch bowl, wondering if she should
abandon the idea of trying to speak to Wrentham this evening. And
worrying about the consequences if they were caught meeting in a
broom closet. And wondering if the duke had already arrived. Giving
herself a silent scold for being so missish, she forced some steel
into her backbone. After looking around to ensure no one was
looking at her, she eased her way toward the retiring room.
Stepping just past the door to that room, she almost squeaked as
she felt a large, warm hand haul her from behind into a small room,
and then all was darkness.

“Alex?” she asked in a shaky whisper.

“Of course it's me, you silly widget, who
else did you think it was?” he teased her mercilessly in the
darkness.

Rose took a gulp of air as she struggled to
deal with all the conflicting feelings she was experiencing in that
moment. The nerve-induced adrenaline that was coursing through her
veins was leaving her legs feeling jiggly and weak. But the thing
uppermost in her mind was the unexpected sensation of being pressed
up against the firm muscles of the Duke of Wrentham's chest. He had
certainly changed since their childhood days, and she was
struggling to sort out her feelings on the matter.