Page 62 of The Perfect Rose

Her heart skidded to a halt. He was sorry . . . he didn’t know what to do? Apparently she was right, and Miriam, the duke, and Lady Gilfordshire had all been mistaken. There was no changing Frederick’s mind on marriage. Rose had only made it through Lord Hanby’s proposal because she’d been led to believe there was hope that Frederick could save her. But it seemed that even if he did feel something for her, that something was not a love strong enough to act upon. What had she been thinking? Rose Gardner did not live in a fairytale. The sides of Rose’s vision went blurry, and her knees felt unsteady.

Chapter Forty-two

Frederick watched as Rose’s eyes slid in and out of focus. Something was not right. She slumped toward the ground, and he barely caught her before she fell. “Rose,” he whispered into her hair. She didn’t answer and he pulled her up and cradled her in his arms, now a veritable damsel in distress. His heart pounded, and he shifted her frame so that he could see her face. He could feel her breathing coming in slow, drawn-out, breaths. “Oh Rose, I’m so sorry.”

He started walking around the fountain, carrying Rose in his arms. “Miriam,” he shouted, “Your Grace . . . I . . . I don’t know what happened. I didn’t even get to talk with her, and she’s fainted.”

Lady Gilfordshire gasped, and Miriam put a hand over her mouth in shock.

“What do I do?”

Miriam jumped, her eyes wide. “The chair. I’ll get it.”

Frederick groaned. “The chair is no use now, Miriam. Did you not hear that I am too late?” His voice cracked even as Miriam rushed off to retrieve the chair from behind the bush.

The dowager laughed. “Oh Frederick. You are not actually too late. She has had an offer of marriage that she has not yet accepted nor rejected. I only meant that you should have acted long before tonight. You’re cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

Hope began to grow in Frederick’s chest. “Truly? She has not accepted anyone?”

“Not that she told me. But she did say that Lord Hanby is expecting an answer by the end of the night.”

A scraping sound caught Frederick’s ear and he turned to see Miriam, dragging a chair that looked like it was made completely of wildflowers. She set the chair down next to the fountain. “You can sit her in this,” Miriam breathed heavily.

“She is not conscious, Miriam. If I put her in that chair, the first thing that will happen is that she will fall onto her face.”

Miriam planted her hands on her hips. “Then you must wake her up first.”

“And how is it that I am supposed to do that?” Frederick adjusted Rose’s weight to settle more comfortably against his chest.

“You could kiss her.”

Heat rushed into Frederick’s face. “I will not kiss an unconscious woman, as much as I’d like to, and you know it.”

Miriam giggled. “But it might be your last chance. The ball is almost over.” She glanced up toward the open ballroom doors.

Frederick followed her gaze. A lone figure stood on the balcony looking down at the scene, and it was none other than Lady Gardner. Although too far away to be heard, it would be difficult for her not to see what was happening with the light illuminating the gardens from the grand windows. Frederick swallowed.

The countess walked along the balcony and descended the stairs. Frederick felt more than saw Miriam and Lady Gilfordshire flank him as if they knew what battle was about to ensue.

Rose was not a difficult woman to carry in his arms, but the position suddenly felt extremely vulnerable when faced with Rose’s mother.

The dowager stepped in front of Frederick as Lady Gardner approached. “Lady Gardner, Lady Rose was so kind as to accompany me out here for a breath of fresh air. I’m afraid she became lightheaded and had a fainting spell. Mr. Hastings caught her, but we do need to get her inside.” She stepped forward and took Lady Gardner by the arm. “She is such a sweet, delicate thing, isn’t she? I believe I have some smelling salts in my bedchamber. I’ll fetch them as soon as we go inside.”

“It is not at all like Rose to faint. Do you know what has upset her?” Lady Gardner’s tone was as sharp as a shard of ice. It was clear to Frederick that showing this amount of ‘weakness’ was not acceptable to Rose’s mother.

Frederick bit his tongue and followed the older women up the stairs, hugging his load tight to his chest. Lady Gardner stopped at the top of the steps and looked Frederick straight in the eye. “Have you made an offer of marriage to my daughter, Mr. Hastings?”

Frederick clenched his teeth together and took a deep breath. “Not yet, my lady.”

She arched one haughty eyebrow at him. “I suggest you do not put her under further stress by doing so.” She turned on her heel and led the way into the ballroom.

The small gathering around Rose followed in Lady Gardner’s wake, cutting a direct course through the dancers and causing a hush to fall upon the whole of the party. Time seemed to slow as Frederick carried the limp form of Lady Rose across the room. He did not look anywhere but at the back of Lady Gardner’s head: the infuriating woman that had ruined his love’s life. He was quite prepared to do battle with her.

Miriam dropped from Frederick’s side as they left the room. “Not to worry, everyone. Lady Rose has fainted from exhaustion, and she will be returned to us shortly, I assure you.” The doors swung shut behind Frederick and Lady Gilfordshire, and Frederick missed the last of his sister’s speech.

“Why don’t you just put her down in my chambers, Frederick?” The dowager suggested as they ascended the stairs. “I know just where my salts are, and my maid is likely already there expecting me to turn in early for the night.”

Lady Gardner nodded her assent.