“He has been in his study all evening, he is more than due, miss. Although, I must say, I am certain he would always welcome your company.”
Rose appreciated the faithful old servant's loyal affection and accepted his words with a grateful smile as she headed off down the hall to scratch on her father's door.
“Enter,” came Lord Smythe's quick response.
Rose entered the comfortable space with a sniff of enjoyment. She always loved the smell of her father's study. A combination of wood, spice, and old spirits. She was not sure how it was achieved, but this was the only room in the house with that particular scent, and it always felt like home to her whenever she could spend time there.
“Good evening, my darling daughter. Did you have a good time?” He welcomed her warmly before trailing off for a moment. “Forgive me, my dear, I seem to have forgotten where your mother told me the two of you were going this evening.”
“That is quite all right, Papa, I am sure you had plenty of other, more important things on your mind.”
“Your mother assures me that all this Season business is as important, or even more so, than what I am occupied with.”
Rose sighed. “My mother does not appreciate that without the work you, and others like you, do, there would be no Season. There is nothing more important than that. The Season is a bunch of social nonsense, to be perfectly frank.”
“We can both agree that that social nonsense played a key role in our work in Vienna.”
Grinning, Rose answered, “That is very true, but sadly we are no longer in Vienna and here the balls and such are just for socializing, from what I can see. And husband hunting, of course.”
“Well that is very serious, important work, is it not, my dear?”
Rose merely shrugged at this before turning the subject reluctantly. “Sir Jason Broderick was at the musicale tonight.”
Her father's face tightened with this news. “Did you talk with him?”
“Very briefly; it could not be avoided.”
“You be sure to steer clear of him in the future.”
“I will, Papa, you can rest easy on that score. I have absolutely no desire to pursue the acquaintance.” She paused for a moment, wondering once more if she could talk to her father about what she had overheard. Deciding to keep it to herself for the moment, she tackled a different, but still uncomfortable, side to the subject. “Mother will disagree with us if she becomes aware of our thoughts on the matter.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“In the carriage ride on the way home tonight she admonished me for keeping my conversation so short with him. She thinks I cannot look any higher than a knight in my social aspirations and she thinks he would be a handsome choice for my husband.”
The baron was a very self-controlled man, a quality that served him very well as a diplomat, but these words caused him to come very close to losing his composure. Taking a deep, calming breath, Lord Smythe smiled sadly, but kindly at his beloved only daughter. “Your mother means well, I am sure, but you must remember that she has been through a great ordeal in the past few years and cannot be held accountable for any strange things she may say. She loves you dearly, you know.”
“I know, Papa, but sometimes she has a strange way of showing it.”
“Rosebud, my darling, you know your papa loves you, do you not?”
“Yes, Papa,” Rose smiled through the mist that filled her eyes over her father's endearment.
“And you do trust my judgment, do you not?”
“But of course!” While Rose was aghast at the thought that he might doubt it, a niggle of unease did creep into her conscience at the thought that she was keeping something from him out of concern for his lack of judgment with regards to the Duke of Wrentham. Pushing the thought from her mind, she looked at her father expectantly.
“Your mother is a good woman and has been an excellent mother, but her own judgment is slightly askew at the moment. I am uncomfortable speaking ill of her, so we shall not delve any deeper into this topic. Suffice it to say that you have my complete trust and I would ask that you use your own good judgment as best you can over the coming weeks. And if you have need of discussing anything with someone, you may come to me at any time. You have quite proven your dependability and soundness of mind many times over when we were in Vienna. The information you were able to dig up was invaluable.”
“Thank you, Papa. I just find that life is rather dull now that we are back in England. And everything about the Season just seems so trivial. Everyone gossips all day and the only thing they seem to be concerned about is the latest fashions or who said what to whom. It is rather grievous after the excitement of life in Vienna. Is there not something I could be doing to help you here?”
“Oh no, my darling. You did quite enough to help out in Vienna. You must just apply yourself to the task of finding a sensible spouse so that you can set up your own household. It is well past time for that, I would say. We would have seen about it much earlier, if not for our mourning.”
Rose was saddened at this reminder and felt a pall fall further over her night. Bolstering her own spirits by the force of her will, she set herself to cheering her father.
“In my mind it is just as well that I have not come up for the Season prior to this. I feel that I am in a much better position to make a sound decision after having had a little bit of experience under my belt, as you would put it. And I would not have wished to miss the time we spent in Vienna. It was something I will be remembering for the rest of my life. In fact, I have half a mind to find myself a diplomat to marry so that I could follow him about and help him with his work, as I did you.”
“I am not so certain that that would be a sound choice for you, but take your time and look about at your options. You should be a good girl and settle down to a normal life. I would not want my daughter to be involved with espionage on a regular basis.”
Rose could see that her father was ready to have an end to the conversation. While he had been perfectly happy accepting her help when it was convenient, he was not about to countenance her entry into the profession. That, in a nutshell, was why she could not settle in to the rhythm of the Season. She wanted so much more out of her life, she thought with a sad twist of her heart.
Rising from her position in the wing-backed chair in front of her father's desk, Rose took another deep sniff of the much-loved scent, wishing she could somehow transfer that restful, comforting smell to some other room in the house, such as her own sitting room or bedroom. Then she could enjoy it at her leisure. With a resigned sigh over her own silliness, she bade her father a fond goodnight and made her way upstairs to her bed.
It would be some time before she could relax into sleep, as she had many things on her mind to mull over. Her mother's odd behavior was a matter of some concern, as was her own ambivalence toward the search for a husband. But uppermost on her mind was the conversation she had overheard at the musicale between Lord Austen and Sir Broderick.
Who could I possibly confide in about this? she asked her own reflection as she brushed out her hair, having dismissed the maid. Lady Yorkleigh was very kind this evening and even seemed to be inviting me to enter into her inner circle. I feel as though I could confide in her about certain things. Rose gazed at herself with a wrinkled brow. For instance, I could discuss my marital options with her, or perhaps even ask her opinion about Mama's strangely conflicting behavior. But I do not see how I could discuss this situation with her.
There were highly confidential matters at stake. Possibly even matters pertaining to the security of the government, or even the prince. And besides that there was the matter of a young woman's reputation and the duke's future happiness being in jeopardy.
Rose's reflection turned sadly pensive at this. Alex's happiness was none of her concern. Their families had quite clearly declared a feud. She ought to loath him. No doubt he loathed her. But she still could not bring herself to hate her old friend. And she reall
y could not stand by and do nothing about what she had heard. For the time being, until she could figure out who to speak to about the bigger issue, or find out more details so that it would be a manageable project to pass to her father, she needed to protect the duke from getting caught in a trap set by Sir Jason Broderick. That duplicitous weasel would not get his teeth and claws into her old friend if she had anything to say on the matter. Once she had the Duke of Wrentham out of the equation then surely she would be able to pass the situation over to Papa.
Thus resolved, Rose set herself to pondering just how to manage protecting the duke from the Austens' clutches. The Alex she knew hated any sort of subterfuge, so she would just have to come right out and tell him. At least, she had to tell him about what she had overheard. It would no doubt be best to leave out the details about how very unscrupulous Sir Broderick was. He would want to know how she knew and the entire issue would get murky.
Or even murkier than it already was, she reminded herself as she gazed at her reflection. She remembered the moment where her eyes had locked onto his. Her stomach clenched at the memory. He truly was a remarkably handsome specimen of a man. But not for her, she reminded herself once more. He was a Wrentham after all. She pulled her thoughts back to the matter at hand.
Now all she had to do was figure out a way to have a conversation with the Duke of Wrentham without anyone finding out. Especially her parents. Really, any one of the ton should be kept in the dark about any conversation she might have with the duke, as it could lead to all sorts of speculation. And if she became the subject of speculation, it was sure to reach Mama's ears at some point. And she could just imagine the scene that would ensue if Mama were to find out she had spoken with anyone from the House of Wrentham! It would have to be a public place but perhaps at an ungodly early hour. That would be just the thing. She would make the arrangements tomorrow.
Glancing at the mantel clock, Rose shrugged to her reflection later on this morning, to be more precise, she thought with a slight grin. Her grin widened when she realized that she had been brushing her hair all through her mental wrestling. That must be at least a week's worth of brushing. Perhaps I can take the next few nights off of this wearisome task.
Chapter Four
Alexander Edward Philip Milton, the Sixth Duke of Wrentham, eyed his former friend speculatively. She looked marvelously delicious this morning with her color high and her hair piled up on her head in some ridiculous fashion that Alex could never understand but looked lovely on her. But then he surmised that he would consider her lovely even in a burlap sack. And being summoned to a clandestine meeting put him in mind of an entirely different type of girl. Alex reminded himself that she was a Smythe and not to be trusted. He managed to contain his reaction to being in her proximity, continuing to watch her fidget with her art supplies.
Struggling with frustration over the conflicting feelings that had risen in him upon receiving her note the day before, Alex found he did not really want to know why she had demanded he meet her. He fought against a longing to spend time with his old friend and chided himself for the tug of attraction he felt whenever he laid eyes upon her. That was a very new sensation and he was undecided if it was one he liked.
Watching her as she once again became absorbed in her art, he wondered how long it would take her to realize he was there. It had always amused him how single-minded she could be at times. He obviously could not dither there all day, although it was a welcome distraction from the responsibilities that weighed upon him. Alex decided to get her attention.
****
The light coming in through the tall windows settled nicely onto her page and the hushed silence almost seemed to echo from the high ceiling. If she had been in a proper frame of mind it would have been perfect for her art. Rose was fidgeting with her sketchbook and pencils rather fitfully when she heard a deep voice just behind her.
“I see your skills have not improved overmuch since the last time I viewed your efforts,” he drawled, teasing her.
Just barely managing to stifle a small screech, even though she had been expecting him, Rose felt her nerves were stretched to the limit.
“Oh, Alex, you nearly gave me apoplexy,” she chided.
“Did you not summon me to meet you here at precisely nine o'clock?” he asked, perplexed.
“Yes, of course, never mind me,” Rose tried to dismiss her nervous start, blushing with her embarrassment.
“I must say I was surprised to receive your summons. I did not think debutantes were accustomed to seeing the day at this hour, nor did I think we were on speaking terms.”
Rose had been busily gathering her supplies in order to avoid looking at him in an attempt to overcome her fit of nerves. She had thought it would be a matter-of-fact thing to meet up with him. They had been on the freest terms when she was a child. He had been her very best friend and she had told him everything in her young life—up until three years ago. Now he was a duke. And he had changed in subtle ways. So had she, obviously. As a child she had never noticed the breadth of his shoulders or felt a flutter in her stomach when he offered her that crooked grin. And of course, there was not the feud to contend with.
Heaving a slight sigh, Rose made herself stop fidgeting and look him in the eye. It did not settle her nerves in the least as she discovered the remarkable color did strange things to her equilibrium. Ignoring her own reactions, Rose forced her reluctant tongue into speech.
“Thank you for coming, Your Grace,” she began stiffly. “Especially at this hour. I thought it best for us to meet when we were the least likely to run into anyone who would run to tell tales.”
“So I take that to mean your parents do not know you are meeting up with me.” Alex paused but could not resist prodding her further. “Do you make it a habit to meet men in strange places?”
“Burlington House is not a strange place,” she defended with a huff. “And no, I do not make it a habit of arranging meetings with men.” Glaring at him, she turned on the offensive. “You should know I asked you to meet me here for your own sake, not mine. Do you not realize that I have everything to lose by arranging to speak with you and absolutely nothing to gain?”
“Well, I am considered quite a catch.” Rose could see that Alex was prodding her just to see her reaction but she could not seem to resist it.
Rose crossed her arms, tapping her foot and keeping the full force of her glare turned upon him. “Not by me,” she declared. Simmering down slightly she continued, “But that is actually why I asked you to meet me.”
It seemed as though Alex was not quite ready to hear her reasons, he changed the subject. “I was merely teasing when I said your skills have not altered. Those sketches actually looked fairly decent. Have you been practicing?”
Startled by the change of subject, Rose blushed once more over his compliments. “I have had a lot of time on my hands,” she answered simply. “Sadly, I am still not that good, but I have been enjoying coming here since we have been in London.” She looked to the statue she had been trying to sketch. “I find the lines so fascinating, but so hard to replicate on paper.”
Alex followed her gaze and they looked around the room. “I must admit, I have yet to take the time to view these marbles of Elgin's. Do you enjoy them?”
“Oh, very much so,” Rose enthused. “The artists did such a magnificent job of depicting the expressions and the musculature. I am amazed by the intricate details. They are a marvel, and I am so grateful that the Duke of Devonshire has so graciously made them available for people to enjoy. It is one of the few places my mother allows me to go on my own.”
“You are unaccompanied?” Alex' incredulity brought a blush to Rose's cheeks.
“Well, of course my maid is about somewhere,” Rose excused with a vague wave behind her. After an awkward moment, she returned to the purpose of her visit. “Thank you again for coming. I was not certain if you would. I know this cannot be comfortable for you.”
“Curiosity woul
d not allow me to keep away. You have not acknowledged my existence for more than two years, and then I received an urgent request to meet you here. So here I am.”
“I was not even certain if you had received my note, as I could not ask you to acknowledge it. My parents would never have allowed me out of the house if they had any inkling I was going to be meeting up with you.”
Rose was embarrassed over the boldness of that admission, but it was necessary, so she ignored it as best she could and plunged further into her explanation.
“I overheard a conversation while I was at the Yorkleigh musicale that I felt you needed to hear about.”
“Have you taken to eavesdropping, my dear?” he asked, teasing her once more.
Rose knew her face was practically on fire now, but she ignored that as well as his comment. “They were discussing how best to entrap you into marriage,” she blurted out.
This finally brought the duke's sober attention to her face. Rose forced herself to meet his gaze as he searched her face before he asked, his tone one of disbelief, “Do you seriously expect me to believe that someone was discussing such a subject in your hearing at the musicale? And if you did hear a couple of silly debutantes having such a conversation, why did you consider it such an urgent matter as to arrange a clandestine meeting with me? Are you perhaps trying to trap me into marriage for yourself?”
She had expected some resistance from him but she had not thought he would turn on her so completely. Feeling her face smoothing into the stony impassivity usually reserved for uncomfortable social occasions, Rose's voice took on a frigid chill. “I do not care what you believe, Your Grace,” she stated, while dipping into an ironic curtsy. “I was laboring under a delusion of misguided loyalty to a childhood friend that caused me to go out of my way to warn you that grown men are conspiring against you and using debutantes to do it. But if you do not care to learn about it, I pray you will forgive me for inconveniencing you by this ill-advised meeting. I wish you a good day, Your Grace.”
The Duke Conspiracy Page 5