Page 56 of The Perfect Rose

“Are you telling me, theoretically, if Frederick asks me to marry him and I feel like he is making a sacrifice for my behalf that I should just let him?”

“I’m telling you, that when he makes that sacrifice, you accept it with grace and prepare yourself to do the same for him. He has his own scars that need healing.” She nodded toward her son who stood far enough away not to hear their conversation but close enough that if anyone came to find them on the balcony, he could step into the conversation without much fuss.

Upon his mother’s signal he walked forward, bowed, and took Rose by her hand to help her to her feet. “Are you ready to make everyone believe we’ve had an extremely illuminating conversation while we were out here?”

“I don’t believe I’m going to have to do any pretending on my part.” Rose smiled at the dowager. “Thank you. Would you care to join us?” Rose reached out her other hand.

“No, thank you. I would like to sit out here and just remember some things for a while.” Her smile was one of complete peace.

Rose wasn’t naive enough to believe that the dowager’s marriage had been all smooth sailing and sunny seas. But the peace that sat on her face as she remembered her life was real. Things did not have to be perfect in order for Rose to be perfectly at peace with her feelings.

The duke gently pulled Rose back toward the parlor. “If I don’t get you back in there, Miriam will have my neck, and I’d rather not make her fret any longer than necessary. Would you be so kind as to laugh when we enter the room?”

“Only if you would be so kind as to say something funny.” Rose smiled at him and tilted her head in challenge.

The duke smiled. “One day, Freddy will likely write you some terrible poetry about dragons and your hair color to read to your children.”

Rose felt the heat spring upon her face as quickly as if she’d put her head into the fireplace. Had the duke just casually mentioned Frederick and poetry and their future children all in one sentence?

The duke chuckled. “And now, you look sufficiently crimson to take back into the parlor, let your mother assume what she will.”

Rose laughed just as they turned the corner to the parlor. She’d never known that the duke was funny, even inappropriate at times.

The reaction from her mother was just as Rose would have predicted. She smiled as wide as a dog just given a treat and pulled her shoulders back further as she watched her daughter and the duke enter side by side. The countess raised one stern eyebrow. A silent communication that her laughter was not appropriate. But she seemed pleased with the situation nonetheless.

Rose released the duke’s arm. “Thank you for everything, Your Grace.” She curtseyed before she made her way toward the window seat where she’d left her embroidery earlier that day.

She’d made it halfway across the room before her mother called to her. “Rose my dear, you really do need to have some of these sandwiches before the ball tonight.”

Rose turned and walked back toward her mother. “Of course. How silly of me.”

“Yes, well,” her mother bent her head to whisper in Rose’s ear, “it is difficult to think clearly when you’ve had such an enjoyable time with the duke.”

Rose could hear the smug satisfaction in her mother’s voice as thick as caramel dripping from a hot spoon. Rose nodded her head, not wanting to lie to her mother but not willing to give away her act. She looked up as Miriam handed her a cup of tea with a wink. Behind Miriam stood Frederick. His gaze glued on Miss Haybury who stood speaking with him. Rose felt her stomach clench. It was the first time in the two weeks spent with Miss Haybury that Rose felt a pang of jealousy watching her.

Rose cleared her throat and searched for a distraction. “These sandwiches are just the thing, Miriam. I’ve been meaning to ask you about your book. Have you finished it yet?”

Miriam glanced at the book, Romeo and Juliet, that sat half tucked under the folds of her dress. “Oh, yes. It is more like an old friend at this point. I have a habit of carrying it around with me. Have you read it?”

Rose nodded. “Yes, but it has been quite some time. Would you mind if I borrowed it?”

Miriam glanced at the book. “Not at all.” She handed the book to Rose.

“Thank you. Perhaps Juliet will have a better ending if I read it again.” She pinched her lips together, preventing a giggle from coming out; her mother had already berated her once in the past few minutes on her laugh. “I believe my time would be best spent resting this afternoon, mother.” Rose stood and smiled at her mother before she fled the room.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Frederick didn’t know if he could have arranged a better moment to speak with Lady Gardner than this moment. He watched Lady Rose flee the room, excused himself from the self-absorbed Miss Haybury, and made the fateful walk toward the countess. It was as if his feet were made of lead. Frederick was convinced that Lady Gardner was the largest obstacle he had to face in offering for Lady Rose’s hand. It was a moment of truth, and he feared what he would do if she did not approve of the match. “Lady Gardner, might I have a moment of your time?”

Although she was sitting and Frederick was standing, the woman still looked down her nose at him. “Certainly.” She patted the settee next to her.

Frederick ran a finger between his collar and his neck. “I was hoping for somewhere . . . more private. Perhaps you could join me in my study, or we could go for a turn in the garden?”

She nodded, obviously knowing what it was he intended. He held out his hand to her and she took it to pull herself to stand. “The study sounds just right.”

Miriam smiled at Frederick when he walked by as if he’d passed some sort of test. But he knew better. This test was only beginning. He escorted Lady Gardner down the corridor and turned into his study in silence.

Once the countess was seated, Frederick pulled a chair to sit across from her. He took a long breath. “I’m certain you are aware just how charming your daughter is, my lady. I find myself unable to resist the pull I feel toward her.”