This had gone beyond her control. She had meddled so thoroughly, and now nothing was right, except when she was alone with him in the library. Those were the moments she craved.
I need him to hold out for five days, that’s all I need.
Rose still spoke as Fern dropped her new dinner gown over her slim shoulders. “You were the one who convinced me of the merits of a poor scholar, you know,” she said with a coy smile. She sat at her dressing table and gazed at her reflection. “We can live simply, a nice townhouse, only a few servants, while Mr. Carroway entertains foreign dignitaries and I entertain the other wives in my drawing room, our children playing upstairs with the nanny.”
Fern scoffed, playing absently with a hairpin. “Do you likehim, or the life you would live with him? Because I can’t see you happy with a man like Alex.” Immediately she regretted her words. Would it be obvious how she felt?
“Of course we would be happy,” Rose retorted. “I don’t know him incredibly well, of course, but he’s kind to me. The men our sisters married, with titles and prestige, they’re not terribly pleasant, nor interesting. Shouldn’t I marry someone who treasures me?”
Rose was right. No one would treat her sister as well as Alex. Rose always got the best in life, as she deserved.
Rose sat up suddenly. “You could live with us, Fern!”
Fern felt gutted, as though her sister had reached into her chest and torn out her heart. “Oh, no, I certainly couldn’t—”
“It would be glorious!” Rose exclaimed, grabbing Fern’s hands tightly. “You could help me care for the children, and you could talk to Alex about all those books you’re both always reading, and we would never have to be apart.” Rose smiled as her eyes misted. “You know how I have been afraid to meet someone, how nervous I was at the masquerade?”
Her love for her twin battled with jealousy and frustration. She wanted nothing more than for Rose to be happy, but why should Rose assume she could never find love on her own? Didn’t Fern deserve happiness too? “I remember,” she whispered.
Rose sighed and squeezed her sister’s hands. “I was terrified of the thought of leaving you. How can I wake up every day and not have you nearby to talk to? It would be miserable being apart from you. And what if you needed me?”
Hurt pummeled her, like sharp knives slicing at her heart. She was a problem to be managed, not capable of living without incident. Rose could find love wherever she looked. Why did she have to want the one man to intrigue Fern?
“Oh Fern, please think about it,” Rose pleaded. “It would be simply delightful. Besides, I think Alex would love you.”
Chapter 18
Mylord,mylady.Start with the utensils on the outside and move in. When in doubt, smile and nod. For god’s sake, don’t ever…Alex’s heart stopped. What had Henry said never to do? His heart pounded as the Redborne carriage rounded the gravel drive to the stately home. He once again wore his friend’s ill-fitting formal attire, and even after suffering a crash course in proper etiquette, Alex remained convinced this evening would be an utter disaster.
He descended from the carriage, his feet numb as he climbed the stairs and entered the magnificent manor. He heard the butler intone his name, and in an instant Lady Redborne stood before him awash in a sea of navy blue silk. “Mr. Carroway, how lovely to see you. Our Rose has told me so much about you.” Her voice was pleasant but somewhat cool, as though she had not yet made up her mind about his presence in her home.
Alex bowed—too low? Not enough?—and stood. “How lovely to visit your home again. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs.—my lady.”
Her eyes narrowed infinitesimally as she registered the near breach of etiquette and led him into the parlor, two King Charles spaniels nipping at his heels.
Stepping into the parlor, Alex barely took a breath before Rose was at his side. He gasped at the sight of her, her pink gown sparkling with delicate gold embroidery and her hair swept up and embellished with pink ribbons and pearls. Her alabaster skin gleamed in the candlelight. “I’m so pleased you could make it,” she whispered, putting her hand in the crook of his arm and squeezing.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he replied.
“Welcome to my home, Mr. Carroway.” The booming voice of Lord Redborne resonated in the room, and before Alex could blink his hand was engulfed by the viscount’s, shaking firmly. “You did not mention to my old friend Whitehurst that you were interested in my Rose.” He gave him a scolding look, although humor glittered in his hazel eyes. “That’s quite the detail to leave out, my boy.”
Alex swallowed hard, desperate to find words. “I wanted to be certain you respected my work before I came to call on your daughter formally—”
“And this is Lady Margaret Cartwright, Lady Redborne’s aunt,” Lord Redborne interrupted as an older woman, her white hair swept into an unforgiving chignon and dressed in flowing amber silk, stepped forward and looked him over.
“That’s not your suit, is it, young man?” she remarked glibly.
Alex gulped. “I’m afraid not, I—”
“And my daughter, Violet,” Lady Redborne said as a young woman dressed in purple, resembling a more petite version of Rose, bobbed a curtsey.
Before Alex could complete his bow, Lady Redborne’s strained voice rang in his ear. “And where is Fern? She should be ready by now.”
“I’m here, Mama.”
Alex turned toward the familiar voice and froze. Fern stood in the doorway, dressed in a high-waisted dress of pale green organza, fit tight around her bodice before cascading from a seam just below her breasts. Forest green velvet trimmed the square neck of her gown, accentuating her graceful collarbone and slim arms. Her hair was not up but hung in loose waves around her shoulders. His heart lurched and a strange warmth washed over him. She was beautiful. She was—
“Oh, Fern, darling, you simply cannot wear your hair like that,” Lady Redborne exclaimed from Alex’s side. With her lips tight she turned to Alex and forced a smile. “You will have to excuse my youngest daughter. She is a bit, well…she doesn’t do well with soirees such as this.” The pink flush of humiliation climbing Fern’s cheeks sparked a deep pang in his chest.
