Page 85 of An Unfamiliar Duke

She looked at the adjoining door. It stood open. She’d not spoken to Sebastian since he’d retreated to his bedchamber. It had seemed best to wait for Polly to leave before slipping out of bed to open the door again. His room had been completely silent by then, and she had gone no farther than the doorway. But just knowing that he was there, within calling distance, had helped her push past the terrifying images of her time with Mr. Sellers. Sleep had been a welcome escape.

Stifling a moan at the discomfort associated with movement, she stiffly slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed to the adjoining door. She peeked into Sebastian’s room. Although filtered by the curtains, pale light bathed the furnishings well enough for her to make out the bed in the center of the room. Its occupant was buried beneath the bedding. She waited a moment, but when Sebastian showed no sign of stirring, she hurried back across her own bedchamber and gathered up his jacket from the chair.

Moving quietly, she entered his bedchamber and draped his jacket over the back of the closest chair. He shifted in his bed. She froze, horribly aware that although her shift was modest, she was without her dressing gown. He muttered something in his sleep, but then his breathing became deep and even once more. She crept out of the room and closed the door behind her. She did not want him disturbed when Polly came to help her dress.

She crossed to the window and pulled back the curtain a few inches. White clouds swept across a blue sky. The rain was gone, and the puddles on the terrace below were already beginning to dry out. It was probably damp and chilly, but that should not prevent her from taking a walk with Sebastian this afternoon.

“Please, do not rain,” she whispered to the sky.

A bird flew by and landed on one of the terrace’s stone pillars. It threw back its head and trilled a song. Rosalind smiled. She would take that as a good omen. Letting the curtain fall back, she glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes past twelve o’clock. She did not know whether to request breakfast or luncheon, but whatever arrived, she would be glad of it.

* * *

Sebastian awoke to the distant murmur of female voices. Rosalind. She must be speaking with her maid in her chambers. He sat up in bed, his eyes instantly drawn to the connecting door. It was closed. Disappointment stabbed his chest, but he pushed it aside. She had unlocked the door—wanted it open on occasion—those changes were reason enough for optimism. He reached for the bellpull. There were a few things he must take care of before he saw Rosalind again. Dressing for the day would be a good start.

James arrived soon afterward, carrying a tray. “Cook insisted that I bring you some tea and Chelsea buns, Your Grace,” he said, setting the tray on the bedside table. “I believe her exact words were, ‘It’s what he’ll want no matter the time of day.’”

Sebastian laughed. “There are definite advantages to having a cook who has known one since childhood.”

“I should say so,” James said. He pulled back the curtains.

“How’s the weather?”

“A little blustery,” James said. “But the rain has stopped.”

Rosalind did not mind blustery. And neither did he, especially if she was with him.

James began pulling Sebastian’s clothing from the wardrobe. He went to set a clean shirt on the nearby chair and stopped, a puzzled look on his face. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I must have left your jacket out last night. I assume you wish it to be laundered?”

Sebastian looked at the chair over the brim of his teacup. His blue jacket, the one Rosalind had been wearing when they’d parted last night, was lying there. If his valet had no memory of setting it down, there was only one other person who could have done it. His eyes darted to the connecting door, and a smile tugged at his lips. “I fear it is sporting too much mud for a quick brushing.” He set his cup on the saucer. “Would you take it downstairs, and while you are there, I need a message delivered to one of the gardeners?”

“One of the gardeners?”

“Yes.” Sebastian realized that his valet had likely never had occasion to seek out a gardener before, but it should not be too difficult. “I wish to have the old tree house swept clean and a sturdy ladder set against the tree.” He reached for his shirt and began buttoning it. “And I require the job to be completed within the hour.”

James placed the jacket over his arm and bowed. “I will see to it right away, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, James.” Sebastian paused his dressing. “And please tell Mrs. Shoup that she was absolutely right. Indeed, if she has not already sent Chelsea buns to Her Grace, I am quite sure they would be equally well received in her chambers.”

“I believe Polly took a tray to Her Grace about half an hour ago, and its contents were very similar to yours.”

Sebastian grinned. Rosalind was only thirty minutes ahead of him in her preparations for the day. He would not keep her waiting long.

* * *

When Sebastian knocked on the door to her chambers, Rosalind was ready.

He had chosen to come to the main door rather than the connecting door, and Polly greeted him with a bobbed curtsy. “Good day, Your Grace.”

“Good day,” Sebastian said. “I believe Her Grace is expecting me.”

Rosalind pressed her hand to her corset and released a breath. Beneath her redingote, she was wearing her favorite peach-colored gown. Polly had spent a little extra time on her hair, and even though her curls would likely be tossed about by the wind, she was perfectly presentable now. Why, then, was she so anxious? Sebastian had simply asked her to accompany him on a walk. Placing one foot before the other was not hard; she’d been doing it most of her life, after all. She stepped forward. “Good day, Sebastian.”

His smile did nothing to help her nerves. “Good day, Rosalind. You look lovely. How did you sleep?”

“Very well,” she said. “And you?” She refrained from commenting on his handsome appearance. It was best to focus on other things.

“I was asleep before my designated hour was up and heard nothing until I awoke at one o’clock.”