Rose gave him a tight smile. “I hadn’t noticed an accent.”
“I’ve worked very hard to eliminate it,” he replied. The accent exposed him asotherfrom his first days at Harrow, leaving him ridiculed and dismissed as common by his posh schoolmates. He despised returning home for school breaks because invariably he would spend days upon his return to campus removing the trademark Brummie vowels from his speech.
“Do your mother and father still live there?”
“My mother.” Alex swallowed. “My father passed away several years ago.”
Rose’s lips pulled down, and she leaned toward him. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. He must have been a lovely man.”
Alex nodded, momentarily unable to speak. “He was. My mother still lives in our old house.”
“Do you support her?” Rose asked.
He shifted uncomfortably. If he were to marry Rose, he would no longer have to worry about providing for his mother. The days of late nights tutoring and doing his own wash would be a thing of the past.
But weeping over his father would not endear her to him. “I do, but that’s a much longer conversation. How was your shopping today?”
“Delightful. I bought a new dress. Have you seen the newest necklines from Paris?” Rose said, her eyes flashing with delight.
“I…can’t say I have,” he replied.
“Simply scandalous, but all the rage in London, so I’ve heard, but I haven’t made it to London yet this season.”
“Oh, do you go to London often?”
“For parties, balls, occasionally, but more during the season.”
He blinked. “The season? Which season?”
Rose’s head tilted. “The…Season. The social season?”
Alex’s stomach fell like a weight in his gut. “Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yes, of course, the Season. I’ve heard quite a bit about it.”I’ve never been, of course. I’ve never wanted to before now.
Rose was back to worrying her lower lip when he was brave enough to look back at her. “It can be fun, but I’m already growing tired of it. The same people in different dresses and different ballrooms… It can become dull. I’d rather find something more meaningful.”
“Like what?” Alex watched Rose raise her eyes towards the spires of the distant college and remembered his conversation with her at the party, her passion for learning, and her unbridled enthusiasm over his work.
“I was thinking of becoming more serious with my needlepoint.”
Alex bit the inside of his cheek and released a slow breath.What was I thinking, this could never work between us. I was a fool.
They picked at their ice cream for another few moments before Rose cleared her throat and gave him an expectant smile as she got to her feet. “Thank you for the ice, Mr. Carroway. It was lovely chatting with you.” She pulled in a breath as though she wanted to say something more but stopped herself, her shoulders sagging.
Alex pursed his lips and stood, wondering if it would even be worth asking to see her again. “Miss Rose, I—”
“Did you enjoy your ices?” Fern scrambled onto the sidewalk, stumbling briefly on the curb, her cheeks flushed as though she had run some distance. Her eyes darted between him and Rose, hazel eyes sparkling. For a moment, Alex couldn’t pull his gaze away from her and her eager expression.
“We did,” Rose replied, her posture stiff.
“Oh, Mr. Carroway,” Fern said before he could identify the change in her sister. “You seem to have dropped something.” She handed him a tightly folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and saw a note written in neat, squared handwriting.Bodleian, 9 am Sunday.
Alex took a deep breath and nodded at Fern. “Thank you.” He turned to Rose and took her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her gloved knuckles. “Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Miss Rose. May I call on you again?” He was certain she would refuse, but he had to try.
Rose smiled, a real smile reaching her eyes, and butterflies took flight in his chest. “Yes, that would be grand. I look forward to it.”
He watched with a wry smile as the sisters walked arm-in-arm up the street and disappeared onto Bond Street.Perhaps this isn’t such a wild scheme after all.
Chapter 12
