Page 52 of The Perfect Rose

Miriam ran across the garden and embraced Miss Trenton. Rose watched them with an ache in her heart. How lucky Miss Trenton was to have found a man who so obviously loved her. Mr. Quentin Redford locked eyes with Rose across the garden. He gave a dip of his head and then smiled, returning his gaze to his beloved Miss Trenton.

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a week at least,” said a deep voice.

Rose jumped and saw the duke emerge from a bush a few paces to the side of her.

“You startled me, Your Grace.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry. But I had the distinct feeling that after this momentous news, Miriam would forget to come find me. Besides, I’ve been hiding in that bush for the last ten minutes attempting to count leaves to give them privacy.”

Rose highly doubted that Miriam would forget about the duke for any reason, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Meddling would do no good. The two needed to find their own path to that happiness. “I believe we ought to celebrate their happy news.”

The duke smiled. “A ball perhaps? That seems like quite the thing for a celebration. It is almost as if Miriam knew this would happen with how nicely it has played out.”

Rose nodded. “Yes, we ought to give them a waltz. There is nothing more entertaining than to watch a couple who are attached to each other waltz together.”

“And who would you waltz with, given the choice?”

Before she answered, Rose reminded herself that she was speaking with Mr. Hastings’s best friend. Any answer she gave had a high likelihood of reaching him. “You’ll not find me out so easily, Your Grace.” She smiled.

“So there is someone, then?” His smug expression held no chastisement, just amusement. “I wish you a waltz with that someone special.” He bowed and walked toward the happy couple.

Rose followed in his wake, imagining a waltz with a handsome gentleman with bright green eyes and hoping it was possible.

She approached the cluster of happy faces fully prepared to offer her congratulations. A hand rested on her shoulder and her stomach filled with butterflies. She knew it was Frederick before she turned to see him. Mr. Owen Redford stood beside him as well. She smiled. “Have you heard the happy news?”

Mr. Hastings’s eyebrows shot up and he looked beyond her to the small crowd. “I admit, I have not. What has everyone smiling?”

He looked back at her, and she felt a bloom of heat on her cheeks. “Miss Trenton has accepted Mr. Redford.”

Mr. Owen Redford rushed forward to his brother and enveloped him in a one-arm hug.

Mr. Hastings cleared his throat. “They are a good fit for each other. It’s a wonder he took so long to ask her.” His grin turned wicked. “But then, I’d wager most men are fools when it comes to the timing of declaring their intentions.”

Rose sighed. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, but I would.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “A gentleman can only hope he is not too late.”

The depth of his words seemed to shock even himself. His gaze shifted to the distance and Rose had the distinct impression that he was remembering that fateful morning with Kendra. Perhaps he would know. Rose placed a hand on his forearm. “If anyone can hope to find happiness, I believe it is you, Mr. Hastings. You have a great propensity to put yourself last. The result is evident in all the relationships you have. Everyone who knows you, loves you.”

“Does that include you?” He winked.

Rose’s breath caught and she felt her face blaze like the sun. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what she hoped for, could he? “I . . .”

Miriam clapped her hands and Rose turned to see her new friend, the duke, smiling beside her. “Oh, this is just wonderful! We shall celebrate at the ball tonight. I’m informed that a waltz would be a perfect way for us to see these two together.”

“Lady Rose.” Mr. Hastings’s voice in her ear was low and urgent, sending her heart galloping.

“Yes?”

“Please do not accept any offers of marriage until the end of the ball tonight. You ought to know what is available to you before you choose your future.” He held her gaze and gave a deep bow. “And save me a dance.” He winked before turning on his heel and striding quickly away from her.

What on earth had just happened? Rose didn’t know what to think about their short game of hide and seek. But Mr. Hastings had made it clear that she should not accept any proposals until the end of the night. But what did he intend? Surely not a proposal himself, since he had no desire to be married. A small flame of hope flickered in her chest. What if Miriam and the duke were right? What if he had changed his mind? She shook her head. It was too overwhelming for her to consider.

Rallying her legs to move, Rose took her turn congratulating the couple before turning back to the house. She needed to clear her mind. And she wanted to write a letter to Clara before she left. The girl was dear to her heart, and Rose would miss her.

The duke jogged to catch up to her. “Lady Rose, allow me to accompany you back to the house.”

“Oh,” Rose faltered, “thank you, Your Grace.” Why he felt the need to walk back with her was a mystery. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and strutted toward the house with all the pomp of, well, a duke. Rose was baffled. “What business calls you back to the house?”