Page 61 of An Unfamiliar Duke

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vickers slip into the room. He stood silently near the door, a silver salver in hand. When he saw that he had Rosalind’s attention, he bowed. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, you have more callers.”

Rosalind attempted to tamp down her anxiety. It appeared that there were three calling cards on the salver. She could not very well turn anyone away with Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy watching, yet to entertain a room full of people without a formal introduction from her husband was extremely bad form.

“One of the gentlemen claims a prior acquaintance with you,” Vickers said, offering her the salver.

Rosalind took the calling cards, silently praying for a lifeline as she read the names one by one. Mr. Theodore Fairfield. Mrs. Amelia Fairfield. Mr. Nigel Sellers. Her mouth went dry. Heaven help her. Why could it not have been Jonas who had come? Or even Lord Bloxley? Mr. Sellers was no lifeline. In fact, if his interaction with Sebastian the last time they’d been together were anything to go by, he was quite the opposite.

Aware of Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy’s gaze upon her, she swallowed hard and raised her head. “How nice to have so many visitors. Please invite them to join us.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you would also like me to arrange for some tea to be brought in?”

She did not particularly wish to lengthen this torture, but he was right. It was the polite thing to do. And if her guests enjoyed their tea, they might be willing to overlook the awkwardness of the entire situation. “That would be lovely,” she said.

“I shall see to it right away.” He bowed, and his voice lowered to a whisper. “I shall also get word to the workshop.”

Rosalind’s breath caught. She met his eyes. He gave a surreptitious nod, and hope rose in her chest. “Thank you, Vickers.”

* * *

Sebastian rolled his shoulders. He ached from sitting at his desk for hours, and his hand was cramping from holding his quill. He set the utensil down, noting that his fingers were stained with black ink. It was unfortunate but a small price to pay for completing the corrections to Meikle’s computations at such a feverish pace. And at this point, finishing quickly was all that mattered. He shook his head slightly. When had the gentleman who preferred to be in a workshop on his own become someone who was all but pining to be anywhere else with Rosalind?

A knock sounded at the door. For one foolish moment, he wondered if thoughts of his wife had somehow summoned her.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened.

“Good day, Your Grace.” It was not Rosalind but Vickers who stepped inside. “I apologize for disturbing you, but your presence is needed in the drawing room.”

Needed not requested. Sebastian pushed back his chair, rising to his feet immediately. “Is something amiss? Is the duchess unwell?”

“When last I saw her, she appeared perfectly healthy.”

“You are sure?” Sebastian was already shrugging his arms into the jacket he had discarded hours ago.

“Yes, Your Grace. She has just requested tea for her guests.”

Sebastian froze. “We have guests?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy arrived about half an hour ago. Not wanting to interrupt your work, Her Grace agreed to entertain them herself.”

“But they have not been introduced.”

“So I gather.”

Sebastian groaned. “Is Mr. Abernathy looking down his long nose at her for such a misstep?”

“On the contrary. I received the distinct impression that Her Grace was holding her own remarkably well.”

He should not have been surprised. Of course Rosalind would entertain the persnickety minister with the poise of an experienced hostess. He moved to stand beside the window, attempting to use the reflection in the glass to straighten his cravat. “And yet she asked for me?”

“I confess, I took it upon myself to make the request.” Vickers stood his ground as only a trusted butler could do. “A second set of guests has arrived, and one member of the party is a Mr. Nigel Sellers.”

Sebastian swung around. “Sellers is here?”

“He is.”

His cravat forgotten, Sebastian crossed the room in rapid strides. “Where is he now?”