Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Rose awoke the following morning with a head filled with doubt. After having more time to think things over, she was worried about spending time with Edmund.
He is a rake, and there have been many rumors about his… flirtations with other women. An unmarried duke could withstand such rumors, but for a woman like me… it could be damaging. What might people think after my association with him? Would they think… could they think…?
Rose shuddered as she got dressed and brushed her hair with the help of her maid. Her thoughts consumed her to such an extent that she did not utter a word.
Soon enough, life would return to its normal routine, and she would not have to worry about spending time with Edmund.
Thomas and Margaret were sitting at opposite ends of the breakfast table, enjoying a companionable silence, which was often the way things were between them.
Rose had grown up in a house where silence was common.
Thomas and Margaret were of the opinion that conversation should not be performed for the sake of filling the silence.
At least that’s what they used to say, but as Rose had grown older, she wondered if it was really that her parents simply didn’t have all that much to say to each other.
“Rose, did you sleep well?” Margaret asked.
“I did, Mother, thank you,” Rose said as she plucked some toast from the rack and spread a healthy amount of jam upon it.
“Your mother and I owe you an apology. We’re sorry that we didn’t tell you about the bid last night,” Thomas said.
“Although you never would have attended had you known,” Margaret added.
“I must admit that it did take me by surprise, and I wish you had not made such a show of me. I was quite uncomfortable having all of those people staring at me,” Rose said.
“Indeed, but you must understand that we only did this with the best of intentions. You have resisted all of our efforts to arrange a marriage for you, and so we were forced to resort to such duplicitous means,” Thomas said.
“There is no shame in not wanting the same thing as everyone else. I have told you time and again that—” Rose said, making a conscious effort to keep her frustration at bay.
“Yes, yes, we are aware,” Margaret said in a withering tone.
“But you forget, Rose, that while you are an intelligent young woman, you do not know everything. There are many advantages to marriage. Security, companionship, shelter. I am worried about what might happen to you when it is time for us to pass on. There is only a short window in which you can make the best of your youth, and I do not want you to waste it.”
“I am wasting nothing, Mother. I have a full life, and you have always taught me to be self-reliant.”
“Mm, perhaps we have taught you too well,” Thomas mused.
Rose was eager to change the subject, knowing she would never change her parents’ minds on this matter, and they were certainly not going to change hers.
“I am curious, though, Father. Would you not have preferred someone other than the Duke of Stonewood to win the bid? A certain reputation does precede him, after all.”
“The ton does like to gossip and make villains out of good men,” Thomas said. “After speaking to him last night, he seems a personable fellow, and anyone who has that much money to spend on an auction must be successful. He would be a good match, offering you a great deal of security.”
“Yes, you would never have to worry about a thing,” Margaret added.
It didn’t escape Rose’s attention that they never mentioned love. Perhaps that was for the best.
Margaret leaned over the table and took Rose’s hand. She had never known her mother to be particularly affectionate, certainly not toward Thomas, so this gesture took Rose by surprise.
“I do hope you will take this opportunity seriously. We only want the best for you, Rose. I know to you we are just your parents, but we have been through the journey of life, and we know how difficult it can be. It is always better to have some company along the way. Please give this your best and do not be… obstinate.”
Rose took a deep breath, thinking about Edmund’s words.
If she were obviously difficult, it would only cause more strife for her parents and make them more likely to come up with another plan.
Indeed, they might become so desperate that they might marry her off without her knowledge.
She could come home one day and find a husband ready to take her away.
Even if it went against her instincts, it was for her own good to pretend to give this her all.
“I understand that I have not been the easiest daughter in this matter, and I know that you are only trying your best to help me. I promise to take this seriously and keep my mind open to marriage. If Edmund should propose, I will not dismiss it out of hand,” she said.
Margaret and Thomas beamed at this, and Rose almost felt guilty for misleading them, because she already knew that no proposal would be forthcoming. However, they were placated, and that was enough for now.
During the afternoon, when Rose was reading in the drawing room, they received a caller. Having assumed that it was someone wishing to speak to her parents, Rose was surprised to hear the door open.
“His Grace, the Duke of Stonewood,” the butler announced.
Rose almost dropped her book.
Her parents stood up to greet him. They gave her a knowing smile and an encouraging look, then left the room. They left the doors to the hallway open, but clearly wanted to show that they trusted Edmund and would not interfere in the courtship.
Edmund moved into the room as though he was familiar with the terrain.
The sunlight that poured through the window illuminated him, making the buttons on his coat shine and adding a glow to his eyes.
It was almost maddening how handsome he was, and it was no wonder that lesser women than her had fallen under his spell.
At least she would not fall prey to such shallow matters. After all, beauty was a fleeting thing, always shifting and fading with age.
“Your Grace, good day,” she said, closing the book and placing her hand upon it.
“I thought I told you to call me Edmund,” he said, stepping closer. “What are you reading?”
Before she could answer, he reached for the book—but paused just long enough for her to hesitate—then took it from her hands.
Rose blinked, startled more than offended.
He flipped a few pages, not roughly, but without much care. The spine bent slightly, and she winced.
“Please be careful,” she said quickly.
He glanced at her, then adjusted his grip a little. “Is it worth such concern?” he asked. “Who even speaks like this?”
“It’s not the best book,” Rose admitted, “but that does not mean it deserves to be mistreated.”
Edmund studied her for a moment, then gave a small breath of amusement. He closed the book and handed it back—this time properly.
“You are very loyal to it,” he said. “Even when it does not deserve you.”
Rose took it from him, still a little tense. “Books matter,” she said. “Someone took the time to write it. That should count for something.”
“Lydia said it wasn’t very good,” he replied. “I don’t see why you would spend your time on something you do not enjoy.”
“Because I have started it, so I might as well finish it.”
“Life is far too short for that. There are far too many things to do and see and feel than to fritter it away on boring things.”
“You don’t seem to like that quality, do you?”
“Being boring? No, in fact, the way I see it, it’s the worst thing a person can be. Life should be exciting. And why you should choose to be bored… I cannot understand it,” he shook his head. “Especially when it’s such a beautiful day outside,” he said, gesturing to the window.
“It’s a beautiful day inside as well. Besides, if I am to offer a fair critique of the book, then it deserves to be read in full. Otherwise, our reading circle will be silent.”
Edmund frowned.
“Wait, you actually discuss books there?”
Rose recoiled, placing the book beside her, making sure it was out of his reach.
“What else would we do at a literary circle?”
Edmund rolled his shoulders. “I always assumed it was just an excuse to get together and speak about whatever things young women speak about… young men, I suppose,” he said, flashing her a smile.
Rose narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“The only young men we speak about are the characters in the books we read. We are an intellectual group, and we would not sully ourselves by descending into gossip. I am sure if you attended, you would be surprised at the insights we share.”
Edmund held up his hands.
“I will take your word for that. I can’t think of anything worse than to be a part of a group like that,” he said.
“Good, because you would not be allowed in anyway,” Rose said, not quite understanding why she was so annoyed that he didn’t want to be a part of the reading circle when she had no desire to share it with him anyway.
“I assume you are here to discuss our arrangement?” she continued, seeking to change the topic. Edmund strode around the room, as if to inspect every corner. He leaned to look at the shelves, peered into the cabinets, and gazed out the window. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Yes, indeed. I did pay a lot of money to win this bid, and I would not like to wait too long to get a return on my investment. Besides, if I delayed, then it would only bring more questions about my situation.”
“Of course. Well, I have been giving the matter some thought.”
Edmund turned and arched an eyebrow while wearing a cocky, slanted smile.
“Oh? I am honored that I was on your mind last night,” he said.
Rose’s cheeks became flushed with color. He was an insufferable man. She collected herself and tilted her head to the side.
“I gave the situation some thought,” she emphasized, making sure he knew that he was not directly the subject of her thoughts. “And I have come up with some ground rules.”