“Why did you arrange for such an unorthodox meeting, Alex?” she demanded, sounding angry.
“I apologize, Rosie, I thought you wished to speak with me urgently.” He finally spoke and his voice sounded strange to Rose's ears. She thought it must be from the strain of whispering. She hoped to put an end to this ridiculous episode as quickly as possible.
“You are right, I do need to speak with you, but surely we cannot be in this closet for very long or we are sure to be discovered. Then we will be in the suds for certain.”
“Have you discovered something of use to us?”
“Yes, Lady Yorkleigh was most helpful when I visited her today. But there is so much to tell you and I cannot bear to be here in the dark,” she whispered urgently. “Could you arrange to meet me early in the morning tomorrow instead of the day after like we had planned?”
“Sure, yes, no problem. That could easily be arranged. You were right—this was not one of my wisest moves. You should probably go. I will stay here. If anyone sees you emerging, just say you mistook the door to the retiring room. I will wait a sufficient while before I follow suit.”
“All right, Alex. Are you quite well? You sound rather strange.” Rose was now concerned.
“Yes, yes, quite well. Perhaps there is rather too much dust in the broom closet. Now out you go.”
Rose could feel that her face was displaying how dubious she was about his statement, but as there was only the faintest sliver of light coming in from under the door, it was quite obvious the duke could not see it. She forbore to comment and merely opened the door a sliver, peeked out, and hurried to leave. Luck must have been on her side that night as no one was about when she made good her escape. She decided to adjourn to the ladies' retiring room for a moment to collect her thoughts before rejoining the crowds in the ballroom.
****
Alex was left to stew in the broom closet.
This was certainly not his brightest move, Alex mused to himself as he willed his rioting feelings under control. He should not be having any sort of warm feelings for Miss Rosamund Smythe. Nothing could come of them, despite the love he had felt for her for the past sixteen years.
He had been ten years old when four-year-old Rosie had stolen his heart. He had been sitting behind the garden sheds, crying over some hurtful thing that had occurred in his family. At this point he could no longer remember the exact cause of his grief, as it was not a rare thing. What had been the rare thing had been the tender compassion clearly visible in the little girl's eyes.
“There, there,” the little Rosie had said as she patted his back gently, “It's best to let it all out for a couple minutes and then stop. If you don't let it out it stays all inside you, but if you cry too long your eyes will hurt.” Her four-year-old wisdom had been indisputable and his tears had instantly dried. As a ten-year-old he hated anyone knowing that he could possibly give way to tears, but since she was barely more than a baby it didn't really matter. She probably cried all the time herself.
He had been wrong about that. The sweet-natured little girl so rarely gave way to tears. But of course, she didn't have as many reasons to cry as he had at that time. Her parents still appeared to care about each other and, as far as he could tell, no one ever lied to his Rosie.
Alex gave his head a shake to rid himself of the bittersweet memories. It mattered naught how delightful he had always found her. It was no longer possible for a Wrentham to pursue any sort of a relationship with a Smythe. Perhaps if he reminded himself about a million more times he would be able to convince his heart to stop racing every time he caught sight of her.
If she would just stop looking more beautiful every time he laid eyes upon her it would no doubt be an easier task for him to accomplish. And if he could stop finding her earnest concern for the strange situation she had discovered so endearing, surely he would be able to put her from his mind once more. If they could get this Broderick nonsense straightened out quickly he could get on with finding himself a duchess and retire back to the country. Once Rose found herself a husband there would be no need for their paths to cross very often in the future. That thought should have brought him a measure of happiness rather than the sinking feeling he was experiencing in that moment. A grunt of frustration escaped him, which he quickly stifled lest someone hear him. After another moment of hesitation, he too stepped from the closet.
Alex was not as lucky as Rose. The moment he had shut the door he heard an incredulous voice behind him. “Is there something amiss, Your Grace?”
The duke gritted his teeth to prevent the vulgarities that threatened to slip through his lips at being caught out. It would certainly not do to tell off one's host. Alex gritted his teeth and did his best to brazen it out. As he was turning to face his host it crossed his mind how ironic it was that Rose had been so concerned about his feelings toward subterfuge and here he was, about to play as big a part as any she had. Alex was uncertain what his face was revealing but from the look on the ambassador's own face it must have been convincing, as his lordship looked truly concerned.
Alex could see the worry on Lord Chatsworth's face and he wondered idly what the poor man was thinking. This struck his ready sense of humor and he had to struggle to suppress an inappropriate urge to chuckle. Now was certainly not the time. He would have to remember to tell Rose about it in the morning, he thought to himself as he opened his mouth to address the ambassador.
“My Lord Chatsworth, naught is amiss, thank you so much for your concern. I was in need of relieving myself,” Alex couldn't help the blush that he could feel creeping up his cheeks at this revolting conversational gambit. Remembering that the man was an ambassador, Alex hoped fervently that the man was not into spying as well and did not see through his ridiculously thin excuse.
Now Lord Chatsworth looked appalled. “And you thought to relieve yourself in the broom closet?” Alex felt his lips twitch with amusement over his host's tone of voice, despite the awkwardness of the situation.
Mustering a degree of dignity, Alex strove for the jovial tone of one who had imbibed a little too much. Forcing a chuckle Alex waved the other man's words away. “Of course not, my good man. I was merely looking for the appropriate location. How was I to know that was a broom closet? I thought it an ideal spot for a water closet.”
Lord Chatsworth was clearly torn over how to address the tipsy young duke. His respect for the duke's title won out. “Your Grace, we have not yet gotten around to upgrading the entire house with plumbing. We do not have a water closet on this floor, but if you would care to follow me I will show you to the room that has been set aside for such a necessity. In the future, should you have such a need again, feel free to ask a footman to direct you.”
Alex was impressed with the other man's words. They implied that at least some of the house had been upgraded with plumbing. Most of his properties had, of course, seen such upgrades, but he was a duke. He knew that most of his associates were still trying to decide whether or not the upgrades were necessary. Alex wondered how he had ever lived without plumbing before and grimaced at the thought that he would now have to relieve himself with his host in attendance. Stifling his sigh, he rolled his eyes in disgust with himself. If he hadn't have had the harebrained idea of pulling Rose into the broom closet in the first place he would not be in this current predicament. He consoled himself with the lopsided reasoning that it could have been much worse. If the ambassador had been just a moment or two earlier he would have seen Rose exiting the broom closet and if he had investigated at all they would have all been in the suds, as Rosie had said. But then again, from what she had told him, Alex could imagine that Rose would be able to brazen her way out of the situation even more skillfully than he had. And no doubt the affable ambassador would have been happy to escort a giggling debutante to the ladies' retiring room.
Within a few moments the questionable ordeal was over and Alex was able to make his way back to the ballroom. He was just in time to see Rose in c
onversation with Lady Anne and Lord Edgecombe. The duke found himself consumed with curiosity about what they could possibly be talking about. It crossed his mind that he should be trying to hide his interest, but he could not tear his eyes away as he watched Rose animatedly talking while the other two looked on in fascination.
Chapter Thirteen
Rose had hurried away from the broom closet as quickly as her skirts and propriety would allow. She had wanted to pick up her skirts and run but fear of observers held her to a more sedate pace. As soon as she was away from the closet she whisked herself into the ladies' retiring room, where a mirror had been conveniently placed for the guests' use.
Surprised to see how flushed she was, Rose hastily glanced around the room, hoping she was not being observed. A maid sitting in the corner was paying her very little attention. The rest of the room appeared to be unoccupied.
Turning her attention back to the mirror, Rose was glad to see that despite her close encounter with Alex, Mary's hard work on her coiffure had not been laid to waste. There wasn't much she could do about her flushed cheeks, so with a slight shrug she turned away from her own reflection and headed back to the ballroom.
Well aware that it was her excitement making her color so hectic, Rose determined to set her mind to other things. Remembering her and Elizabeth's plan to aim Anne in a different direction she determined to try her hand once more at matchmaking. Scanning the room for her quarries, her eyes lit upon one. Grinning, she headed across the room with purpose.
“Lady Anne, you look lovely this evening.”
“Oh, Miss Rosamund, how kind of you to say so,” came her soft reply.
Rose suppressed her amused smile, and tried hard to keep the conspirator's glee from her face. She had never considered herself to be a busybody, but she was so excited about the meddling she was about to do.
“Are you enjoying your evening thus far?” Rose asked gently, pleased that her tone came out just how she would like, not too bored but not invasive either.
“It is not as crowded as some of the balls I have been to, so that is pleasant, to be sure.”
Rose was puzzled over Lady Anne's lukewarm response. “Is everything all right with you, my lady?” she asked in a low voice, making sure not to draw undue attention to them but concerned about the young woman.
It was apparent that Anne was trying to put on a brave face. “You recall the conversation we were having, do you not?”
“About suitable husbands and how to acquire them?” Rose asked, as neutrally as possible.
“That's right,” Anne replied with a slight smile over Rose's wording. “My father has decided that I have dithered long enough and wishes me to proceed as soon as possible.”
Rose was glad for the experience she had in maintaining a straight face despite this provocative statement. Keeping her composure with effort she prompted discreetly, “And you are unsure if you want to proceed, is that the problem?”
Anne's nod was miserable. “What you said about a husband not wanting to be trapped really made me think. What if Papa is wrong about affection being engaged after the marriage is arranged? What if my husband were to take me in disgust if he were to find out that it was all a trap? I do not want to be miserable for the rest of my life.”
Feeling her heart go out to the other woman, Rose was glad that she had already determined on her set course. Lady Anne could not have Alex, but she deserved to be happy. Clasping Lady Anne's hand warmly in her own, Rose reassured her quietly. “Have no fear, my friend, we shall ensure you find happiness. Let us find you an uncomplicated husband who will be delighted to make you happy.”
Lady Anne brought her eyes to focus on Rose's face. “Are you sure that is even possible?”
“Absolutely,” Rose replied with as much conviction as she could muster, grinning as she saw hope dawn in the other woman's eyes. “Good, it will not do for you to look as though you are heartbroken. Men do not find that terribly attractive for the most part, in my experience.”
This brought a rather watery chuckle to Anne's lips, but she did manage to look a little happier. Rose again gazed about at the milling crowds and was delighted to see the object of her search. Ignoring the vulgarity of her forward behavior she raised a hand and beckoned for Lord Edgecombe to join them.
“What are you doing?” Anne asked in a low but urgent voice.
“I am looking for your happiness. Lord Anthony is a kind, delightful young viscount who strikes me as a likely candidate to make any lady a wonderful husband. And in any case, it looks to me that he is a good dancer. If you do not think he is a good choice for husband, you can at least enjoy being on the dance floor.”
Anne looked a little confused over Rose's managing ways, but could not argue with her logic. Rose felt her amusement rise as she watched Anne muster up a welcoming smile when the kind viscount arrived, looking at the two ladies questioningly.
“Is everything all right with you two?” he asked solicitously.
“All is well, thank you so much for asking, my lord,” Rose replied briskly. “We just needed you to settle a dilemma Lady Anne and I were having.”
Rose watched with delight as Anne looked at her askance, but Lord Anthony bowed slightly. “I would be happy to help in any way that I can,” he answered gallantly.
“I am rather embarrassed to admit to you that we were discussing your dance skills, my lord.” Rose struggled to contain her blush at this bold statement, but was amused to see the stain creeping into the viscount's cheeks as well.
“My dance skills,” he repeated with surprise. “Whatever for, Miss?”
“Because you are a delightful dance partner. I was telling Lady Anne that I think you are better at the waltz, but she was insisting that she thinks you are more skilled at the country dances.” Rose paused, while her two companions looked between her and each other. At the perfect moment she could hear the orchestra striking up the next number. “How lucky is that? It seems to me that they are about to play a waltz. Why don't you be a dear and prove me right, my lord? Show Lady Anne what a marvelous waltzer you are.”
Rose nearly giggled over the look of incredulity that crossed Lord Edgecombe's face. He is looking at me as though I have lost my mind, she thought, controlling her expression with effort. He might not be that far off from the truth, she answered herself as she watched him pull himself together and reply diplomatically.
“I do not think I need to prove anything to either of you ladies, but I would be happy to dance the waltz with you, Lady Anne, if you would do me the honor of being my partner.”
Blushing, Anne accepted before shooting Rose a dubious look of censure which Rose chose to ignore, merely grinning at the departing pair. At that moment, Lord Dunbar appeared at her elbow.
“You look decidedly pleased with yourself, Miss Rose. What have you been up to?”
Batting her lashes vigorously, Rose tried to put a confused look onto her face. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my lord.”
“That I sincerely doubt, my dear. But would you do me the honor of dancing this waltz with me?”
“That would be a delight, my lord, thank you,” Rose grinned at Wesley with pleasure.
As the strains of the waltz swept them into the rhythms of the dance Rose happily followed the viscount's lead while trying to ignore his searching glance.
“Is that your strategy then, Miss?”
With a soft sigh, Rose saw that the man would not be put off, although she tried once more. “Whatever do you mean, my lord?” she asked, with as much innocence as she could muster.
Now Wesley could not prevent his chuckle but he managed to contain it so as to not cause a scene. “You really are a minx, aren't you? I can see now why Wrentham cannot get himself to cut his ties with you despite the convoluted family history.” Seeing the stricken look upon Rose's face, the viscount hastened to make his apology. “Forgive me, my dear, that was inexcusably crass.”
Rose managed to maintain her com
posure and with impatience she waved away his apology and returned to the subject she had previously been trying to avoid. Now it seemed like a welcome diversion. “You were asking me about my strategy, my lord?” she reminded him.
Grateful for the change of subject, Wesley was quick to jump in. “Yes, it would appear that your plan is to save the duke by means of diverting the lady's attentions elsewhere.”
“You are only very partially correct, my lord,” Rose replied primly before breaking into a smile. She could not hold onto her offense with the pleasant viscount. “For one thing, I am quite convinced that Alex is fully capable of saving himself if the need should arise. But in this instance, I do not actually believe that merely redirecting the lady's attention would save him. It strikes me that there is more afoot than entrapping a wealthy mate for Lady Anne, and I do believe she is as much a potential victim as the duke. And I think she is a sweet young woman who will be in need of a suitable mate if this situation goes sideways, as it is sure to. I think Lord Edgecombe is a lovely young man, who would treat her well. I merely thought to ensure that the two of them have an opportunity to look at one another in a different light. There is nothing quite like taking a turn on the dance floor to the tune of a waltz to put one in a suitable frame of mind.”
The Duke Conspiracy Page 18