The Duke Conspiracy (7 page)

Rose could see that her father was ready to
have an end to the conversation. While he had been perfectly happy
accepting her help when it was convenient, he was not about to
countenance her entry into the profession. That, in a nutshell, was
why she could not settle in to the rhythm of the Season. She wanted
so much more out of her life, she thought with a sad twist of her
heart.

Rising from her position in the wing-backed
chair in front of her father's desk, Rose took another deep sniff
of the much-loved scent, wishing she could somehow transfer that
restful, comforting smell to some other room in the house, such as
her own sitting room or bedroom. Then she could enjoy it at her
leisure. With a resigned sigh over her own silliness, she bade her
father a fond goodnight and made her way upstairs to her bed.

It would be some time before she could relax
into sleep, as she had many things on her mind to mull over. Her
mother's odd behavior was a matter of some concern, as was her own
ambivalence toward the search for a husband. But uppermost on her
mind was the conversation she had overheard at the musicale between
Lord Austen and Sir Broderick.

Who could I possibly confide in about
this?
she asked her own reflection as she brushed out her hair,
having dismissed the maid.
Lady Yorkleigh was very kind this
evening and even seemed to be inviting me to enter into her inner
circle. I feel as though I could confide in her about certain
things.
Rose gazed at herself with a wrinkled brow.
For
instance, I could discuss my marital options with her, or perhaps
even ask her opinion about Mama's strangely conflicting behavior.
But I do not see how I could discuss this situation with
her.

There were highly confidential matters at
stake. Possibly even matters pertaining to the security of the
government, or even the prince. And besides that there was the
matter of a young woman's reputation and the duke's future
happiness being in jeopardy.

Rose's reflection turned sadly pensive at
this. Alex's happiness was none of her concern. Their families had
quite clearly declared a feud. She ought to loath him. No doubt he
loathed her. But she still could not bring herself to hate her old
friend. And she really could not stand by and do nothing about what
she had heard. For the time being, until she could figure out who
to speak to about the bigger issue, or find out more details so
that it would be a manageable project to pass to her father, she
needed to protect the duke from getting caught in a trap set by Sir
Jason Broderick. That duplicitous weasel would not get his teeth
and claws into her old friend if she had anything to say on the
matter. Once she had the Duke of Wrentham out of the equation then
surely she would be able to pass the situation over to Papa.

Thus resolved, Rose set herself to pondering
just how to manage protecting the duke from the Austens' clutches.
The Alex she knew hated any sort of subterfuge, so she would just
have to come right out and tell him. At least, she had to tell him
about what she had overheard. It would no doubt be best to leave
out the details about how very unscrupulous Sir Broderick was. He
would want to know how she knew and the entire issue would get
murky.

Or even murkier than it already was, she
reminded herself as she gazed at her reflection. She remembered the
moment where her eyes had locked onto his. Her stomach clenched at
the memory. He truly was a remarkably handsome specimen of a man.
But not for her, she reminded herself once more. He was a Wrentham
after all. She pulled her thoughts back to the matter at hand.

Now all she had to do was figure out a way to
have a conversation with the Duke of Wrentham without anyone
finding out. Especially her parents. Really, any one of the
ton
should be kept in the dark about any conversation she
might have with the duke, as it could lead to all sorts of
speculation. And if she became the subject of speculation, it was
sure to reach Mama's ears at some point. And she could just imagine
the scene that would ensue if Mama were to find out she had spoken
with anyone from the House of Wrentham! It would have to be a
public place but perhaps at an ungodly early hour. That would be
just the thing. She would make the arrangements tomorrow.

Glancing at the mantel clock, Rose shrugged
to her reflection
later on this morning, to be more precise,
she thought with a slight grin. Her grin widened when she realized
that she had been brushing her hair all through her mental
wrestling. That must be at least a week's worth of brushing.
Perhaps I can take the next few nights off of this wearisome
task
.

Alexander Edward Philip Milton, the Sixth
Duke of Wrentham, eyed his former friend speculatively. She looked
marvelously delicious this morning with her color high and her hair
piled up on her head in some ridiculous fashion that Alex could
never understand but looked lovely on her. But then he surmised
that he would consider her lovely even in a burlap sack. And being
summoned to a clandestine meeting put him in mind of an entirely
different type of girl. Alex reminded himself that she was a Smythe
and not to be trusted. He managed to contain his reaction to being
in her proximity, continuing to watch her fidget with her art
supplies.

Struggling with frustration over the
conflicting feelings that had risen in him upon receiving her note
the day before, Alex found he did not really want to know why she
had demanded he meet her. He fought against a longing to spend time
with his old friend and chided himself for the tug of attraction he
felt whenever he laid eyes upon her. That was a very new sensation
and he was undecided if it was one he liked.

Watching her as she once again became
absorbed in her art, he wondered how long it would take her to
realize he was there. It had always amused him how single-minded
she could be at times. He obviously could not dither there all day,
although it was a welcome distraction from the responsibilities
that weighed upon him. Alex decided to get her attention.

****

The light coming in through the tall windows
settled nicely onto her page and the hushed silence almost seemed
to echo from the high ceiling. If she had been in a proper frame of
mind it would have been perfect for her art. Rose was fidgeting
with her sketchbook and pencils rather fitfully when she heard a
deep voice just behind her.

“I see your skills have not improved overmuch
since the last time I viewed your efforts,” he drawled, teasing
her.

Just barely managing to stifle a small
screech, even though she had been expecting him, Rose felt her
nerves were stretched to the limit.

“Oh, Alex, you nearly gave me apoplexy,” she
chided.

“Did you not summon me to meet you here at
precisely nine o'clock?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yes, of course, never mind me,” Rose tried
to dismiss her nervous start, blushing with her embarrassment.

“I must say I was surprised to receive your
summons. I did not think debutantes were accustomed to seeing the
day at this hour, nor did I think we were on speaking terms.”

Rose had been busily gathering her supplies
in order to avoid looking at him in an attempt to overcome her fit
of nerves. She had thought it would be a matter-of-fact thing to
meet up with him. They had been on the freest terms when she was a
child. He had been her very best friend and she had told him
everything in her young life—up until three years ago. Now he was a
duke. And he had changed in subtle ways. So had she, obviously. As
a child she had never noticed the breadth of his shoulders or felt
a flutter in her stomach when he offered her that crooked grin. And
of course, there was not the feud to contend with.

Heaving a slight sigh, Rose made herself stop
fidgeting and look him in the eye. It did not settle her nerves in
the least as she discovered the remarkable color did strange things
to her equilibrium. Ignoring her own reactions, Rose forced her
reluctant tongue into speech.

“Thank you for coming, Your Grace,” she began
stiffly. “Especially at this hour. I thought it best for us to meet
when we were the least likely to run into anyone who would run to
tell tales.”

“So I take that to mean your parents do not
know you are meeting up with me.” Alex paused but could not resist
prodding her further. “Do you make it a habit to meet men in
strange places?”

“Burlington House is not a strange place,”
she defended with a huff. “And no, I do not make it a habit of
arranging meetings with men.” Glaring at him, she turned on the
offensive. “You should know I asked you to meet me here for your
own sake, not mine. Do you not realize that I have everything to
lose by arranging to speak with you and absolutely nothing to
gain?”

“Well, I am considered quite a catch.” Rose
could see that Alex was prodding her just to see her reaction but
she could not seem to resist it.

Rose crossed her arms, tapping her foot and
keeping the full force of her glare turned upon him. “Not by me,”
she declared. Simmering down slightly she continued, “But that is
actually why I asked you to meet me.”

It seemed as though Alex was not quite ready
to hear her reasons, he changed the subject. “I was merely teasing
when I said your skills have not altered. Those sketches actually
looked fairly decent. Have you been practicing?”

Startled by the change of subject, Rose
blushed once more over his compliments. “I have had a lot of time
on my hands,” she answered simply. “Sadly, I am still not that
good, but I have been enjoying coming here since we have been in
London.” She looked to the statue she had been trying to sketch. “I
find the lines so fascinating, but so hard to replicate on
paper.”

Alex followed her gaze and they looked around
the room. “I must admit, I have yet to take the time to view these
marbles of Elgin's. Do you enjoy them?”

“Oh, very much so,” Rose enthused. “The
artists did such a magnificent job of depicting the expressions and
the musculature. I am amazed by the intricate details. They are a
marvel, and I am so grateful that the Duke of Devonshire has so
graciously made them available for people to enjoy. It is one of
the few places my mother allows me to go on my own.”

“You are unaccompanied?” Alex' incredulity
brought a blush to Rose's cheeks.

“Well, of course my maid is about somewhere,”
Rose excused with a vague wave behind her. After an awkward moment,
she returned to the purpose of her visit. “Thank you again for
coming. I was not certain if you would. I know this cannot be
comfortable for you.”

“Curiosity would not allow me to keep away.
You have not acknowledged my existence for more than two years, and
then I received an urgent request to meet you here. So here I
am.”

“I was not even certain if you had received
my note, as I could not ask you to acknowledge it. My parents would
never have allowed me out of the house if they had any inkling I
was going to be meeting up with you.”

Rose was embarrassed over the boldness of
that admission, but it was necessary, so she ignored it as best she
could and plunged further into her explanation.

“I overheard a conversation while I was at
the Yorkleigh musicale that I felt you needed to hear about.”

“Have you taken to eavesdropping, my dear?”
he asked, teasing her once more.

Rose knew her face was practically on fire
now, but she ignored that as well as his comment. “They were
discussing how best to entrap you into marriage,” she blurted
out.

This finally brought the duke's sober
attention to her face. Rose forced herself to meet his gaze as he
searched her face before he asked, his tone one of disbelief, “Do
you seriously expect me to believe that someone was discussing such
a subject in your hearing at the musicale? And if you did hear a
couple of silly debutantes having such a conversation, why did you
consider it such an urgent matter as to arrange a clandestine
meeting with me? Are you perhaps trying to trap me into marriage
for yourself?”

She had expected some resistance from him but
she had not thought he would turn on her so completely. Feeling her
face smoothing into the stony impassivity usually reserved for
uncomfortable social occasions, Rose's voice took on a frigid
chill. “I do not care what you believe, Your Grace,” she stated,
while dipping into an ironic curtsy. “I was laboring under a
delusion of misguided loyalty to a childhood friend that caused me
to go out of my way to warn you that grown men are conspiring
against you and using debutantes to do it. But if you do not care
to learn about it, I pray you will forgive me for inconveniencing
you by this ill-advised meeting. I wish you a good day, Your
Grace.”

Unable to maintain her impassive façade, Rose
felt tears gathering in her eyes by the end of this speech. Turning
away so that the duke could not see, she once more busied herself
with her drawing materials, packing them away and making to
leave.

Rose heard him make a growling sound low in
his throat. She was unsure what it meant, but then Alex grabbed her
by the arm and spun her back to face him. “I apologize, Rosie, I
meant you no insult. I know you would never stoop so low as to
trick me into marriage. Please, I know you went to a great deal of
effort to tell me about this, forgive my churlish behavior and tell
me what you know.”

Gulping back her maelstrom of feelings, Rose
mustered her composure and launched into her tale. “It was at the
musicale hosted by Lady Yorkleigh two nights ago. My dear friend,
Lady Elizabeth, who I was sitting with, had to go speak with her
mother for a moment during a brief intermission in the
performances. I remained behind because we had managed to get great
seats from which to enjoy the music. I assure you I had no
intention of eavesdropping; I did not even realize the gentlemen
were there as they were behind me and obscured from my view by this
strange, sculpture-like object in the room. I really cannot tell
you what that object was, and it is the one thing that makes me
question Lady Yorkleigh's tastes, as everything about their home is
quite lovely.”