Why should he? Alex always scoffed at the notion of love at first sight, but what he experienced tonight was unlike anything he had felt with any other woman. Miss Rose Waverly had given him the perfect evening. His lips still tingled from their kisses, he could smell her scent on his clothing, like fresh grass and sweetness. But he couldn’t understand why she ran after their kiss. Had he done something wrong? He needed to speak to her, to understand what had happened.
Henry interrupted his thoughts. “We have to go, the carriage is waiting. I finally got Roland inside but I don’t trust him to stay. Please, Alex, we can come back tomorrow and find her. You can give her back her mask then and see if she is as perfect in the light of day.”
Alex traced over the initials embroidered on the pink silk ribbon—RCB. Rose. He wondered what her middle name was. He was still wondering when Henry shoved him into the curricle and then snapped the reins, sending the horses into motion.
For the past four years—hell, for his entire life—he had eschewed the desires of his heart to follow his head. His entire existence was to pursue one goal, one vision of his future, and everything else—desire, lust, love—had to wait. But what if he only had one chance? His mother and father spoke often about falling in love the day they met, of knowing the other was special, unlike anyone else they had known before.
Risks were not a part of Alex’s vision and could only disrupt his plans. But what would happen if he did not take a risk now? He could miss out on love, or at least the opportunity to find it.
Alex stared out the window at the retreating Boar’s Hill.She is in there, he thought.My future is in that house. And tomorrow I will find her.
Chapter 7
“It’snearlyhalfpastthree, where is everyone?” Lady Redborne was beside herself. After a ball that London gossips had already dubbed thefete of the century, she expected to be inundated with callers. True, she needed to depart the festivities early when Violet, still raw from her broken engagement, dissolved into tears and needed consolation. Aunt Margaret said Rose had been dancing and talking with at least one gentleman. Of course, Margaret had consumed copious amounts of sherry and was known for her poor eyesight, so her reports remained not entirely trustworthy.
“Perhaps your girls didn’t make quite the impression you had hoped,” Aunt Margaret remarked from her chair by the fire.An Illustrated History of Animal Husbandrywas open on her lap, and she appeared to be reading it as though she were enjoying a novel.
Lady Redborne shot her a quieting glare. “My girls were perfect ladies all night. You danced, didn’t you, Rose?”
Rose nodded with wide eyes as she attacked her embroidery, while Fern attempted to re-read her copy of Descartes, although she found herself stuck on the same paragraph.
Her mother released a loud sigh and pushed off the silk divan. “I must see what is taking Violet so long.” She harrumphed once more before storming from the parlor in a cloud of muslin, slamming the door behind her.
Rose met her sister’s eye and wrinkled her nose. “Well, that was pleasant.”
Fern closed her book on her lap. “We shouldn’t have expected anything different. Did you even speak to any gentlemen last night?”
“Only in passing,” she replied. “I had a lovely evening chatting with Aunt Margaret about her coming out. Apparently she had too much sherry and cast up her supper in a potted plant.”
Fern groaned even as she laughed. “The experience doesn’t seem to have put her off the stuff.”
“But surely your Mr. Caraway will call today,” Rose said, her eyes glittering. “After what you told me, he must be wild for you.”
“He doesn’t even know me.” The knot reappeared in Fern’s throat. “He thinks it was you.”
“He will recognize you immediately, though,” Rose said. “When he calls, just tell him the truth. It won’t change anything.”
It will change everything. Last night, she had stepped into Rose’s pink slippers and in doing so escaped the pitying stares and lowered expectations. How ironic she only was like her true self when she stepped into the role of her twin.
But Mr. Alexander Carroway was special. A brilliant scholar, kind and honest. A man like him deserved to be proud of the woman by his side. Not ashamed of her. Not worrying she would do something wrong.
Both girls started when their butler knocked on the door. Salisbury stepped into the parlor, “Mr. Alexander Carroway to see Miss Rose.” Both girls jumped to their feet.
“Now’s your chance, tell him the truth,” Rose whispered.
“Not yet, I need to think!” Fern replied.
“You’ve had plenty of time to think, now he’s here!” Rose hissed.
Fern shook her head, panic rising like bile in her throat. “No,” she said, “no, I can’t see him. I’m shaking, I’m too nervous, I’ll make a fool of myself.”
“But he fell foryou, not me, he will surely realize it when he sees me.”
“But I was pretending to be you!” Fern cried. “I wasn’t nervous, I didn’t need to worry, because I could be you. But I can’t let him leave. I can’t—” She choked back a sob. “I can’t let him leave, Rose.”
Rose grabbed her sister into a tight hug, stroking her hair. “I’ll buy us some time. I can pretend it was me until we get a better idea of what to do. But Fern, you’ll have to tell him, eventually.”
Fern nodded, then rushed to crouch behind the sofa.
