Page 43 of The Perfect Rose

Rose hadn’t had a favorite food until this afternoon. “Lemon cream with strawberries, definitely.” The combination would forever be imprinted on her soul. She’d enjoyed it before, but the note that Frederick had sent her had been so beautiful it had moved her to tears. The words of admiration and praise had filled her to the brim. She’d memorized the note before dinner.

Lady Rose,

You are the sunshine to my day and the cream to my lemon. Bright, bold, and undeniably beautiful. Challenge me all you will, I can lose to you in every competition so long as I can be there to make you laugh and hear your voice. Our adventure awaits, but I give you a sampling of what is to come.

Yours. F.

“And I like to eat blueberries in my potatoes.”

“What?”

“I wondered how long it would take you to hear what I was saying,” Lord Hanby drawled as he tipped his head to the side. “Are you certain you are feeling well?”

He reached up and tucked a curl behind Rose’s ear. She winced inwardly. How very forward he was acting. She glanced around the table and saw her mother smiling at her. Glorious—of all the things Rose would have to explain to her mother, it was that she did not encourage or appreciate Lord Hanby’s attentions. Especially when they were so public. “I am feeling well, though perhaps I am a little tired. Not enough to miss the events of the evening, I assure you. How far have you traveled?”

Lord Hanby sat back and pasted a smug smile on his face. “I’ve been to the continent, of course. I took a catamaran from the tip of Italy to Greece.”

Rose could tell he enjoyed sharing this unique piece of information about himself. “What was it like? Sailing on a small vessel to such a different place? I can imagine it was quite the adventure.”

“The voyage was uneventful. We arrived safely in the harbor and since I speak Latin, the Greek culture was nothing significant.”

And that answer was one of the biggest reasons she could never marry Lord Hanby. Even in a life with potential adventures, he was bored. Nothing seemed to impress that man, and as his wife, she would be no different. She knew she wouldn’t stand for a husband who could not appreciate her or the life they would share.

After dinner was cleared away, the women adjourned in the parlor while the men took their port. Rose sidled close to Lady Gilfordshire. She would be little help in this battle of knowing her own team if she didn’t try harder.

She looked at the dowager and smiled. The woman was elderly, but the lines on her face looked happy. “Where were you born, Your Grace?”

“I’m sorry, my dear.” She pointed to her ear. “Come stand on the other side of me, that ear doesn’t work like it used to.”

Rose’s mother stood a few paces off, and Rose watched the color drain from her face until she was as pale as a ghost. Odd.

Rose moved to the other side of the dowager and repeated her question with the same volume of voice.

“I was born in Derbyshire. Are you familiar with the Rose and Crown there? My family’s estate was to the west of it.” She grinned.

Rose nodded. She had a vague recollection of the area. “And how did you meet your husband?”

The woman’s eyes went misty. “Harold was attempting to jump his horse over the fence of our property on a hunting expedition. He was unsuccessful. His comrades brought him to my family’s home as it was the closest one in the area. The doctor saw him there and ordered that he wasn’t to be moved for a couple weeks at least. Since he was heir apparent to the dukedom, no one argued with the arrangement. I sat with him and helped nurse him back to health. He’d broken a few bones in the accident. And the rest was history.”

There had to be so much more to that history. If they had more time, Rose would have pressed for more information, but she needed to prepare for their game. She would ask for the full account later on. “What a fortunate misfortune. Seeing as things turned out so well. I was born at our estate outside of Peterborough, and my mother was born in Bath. Isn’t that correct?” Rose turned to her mother.

Her mother had recovered some of her color but still looked shaken. By what, Rose could not imagine. Rose had never seen her mother shaken. Perhaps she was ill.

“Yes, I was born in Bath.”

Rose bit her bottom lip. “Mother, are you well?”

Her mother’s eyes flashed at her. “Of course I am well. I am never ill, child.”

If she had enough snap in her to answer like that, Rose would put her concerns aside. There was no good that could come from upsetting her mother.

Lady Gilfordshire put a hand on Rose’s arm. “Would you accompany me to a settee, Lady Rose? My back needs something comfortable to rest against.”

“Certainly.” Rose led her around the table in the center of the room to the open settee. “I feel awful that I haven’t spent much time with you during our time here. I feel like I’ve been missing out on a very enjoyable relationship.” Rose made sure to sit on the dowager’s left side so she could hear her better.

“Nonsense. You’ve been doing just what you ought to under your particular circumstances.” She darted a look to where her mother still stood. “You’ve had quite the task set before you these past weeks. Besides, I’m certain we will become much better acquainted in the future.”

Rose tipped her head to the side. “How so?”