Lydia waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I know my brother better than most, better than he knows himself, even. He might well have been opposed to marriage before, but that was before he knew you. I have seen a change in him, Rose. Actually, I have seen a change in you both. You seem to bring out the best in each other.”
“That is very kind of you to say. I just hope that Edmund feels the same way.”
“I shall be sure to tell him.”
Rose sipped her drink, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. In some ways, her plan was working perfectly. No proposal would be forthcoming, and Edmund would probably be seen as a scoundrel once he left London with Rose holding her heart in her hands.
She had only expected to pretend to be scorned, wretched, and heartbroken. But at the rate things were going, those feelings would be all too real—and that was not what she had expected at all.
“I hope you have enjoyed yourselves,” Agatha said, directing her question to Thomas and Margaret. Rose fell quiet, allowing herself to contemplate her feelings, hoping to gain some clarity. She was acutely aware of the distance that existed between herself and Edmund. She seemed to grow weaker when she was near him, although even when she was far away, it was not as though she felt any stronger.
These feelings were a paradox, and she was not sure she would ever figure them out, even if she spent the rest of her life contemplating the matter. And she did have plenty of her life remaining, and it would be lived alone.
“Oh yes, we have all had a marvelous time. It has rather inspired me to host a party like this. We have never done that, have we, Margaret?” Thomas said. Margaret arched back and looked at Thomas with a surprised expression.
“No, we have not. You never seem too interested in hosting parties.”
“And I feel I was wrong for doing so! If our families are to grow closer in the coming years,” he glanced toward Rose as he said this, “then it would be wonderful to host you at our house.”
“And we shall be happy to accept,” Agatha said, beaming.
Rose said nothing, feeling guilty that she was going to take away this happiness from other people as well. Was it cruel for her to have led them on like this? Should she just put an end to thefarce now? Part of her wanted to tell the truth to everyone at the breakfast table, then leave and never look back.
Perhaps she could retire to the country somewhere and live out her life in solitude, and she would never have to think of London or Edmund again.
“Rose, do you perhaps have time to show me how you played that shot in Pall Mall before we leave? I would like to be better at the game the next time I play it,” Amelia said, having returned from speaking with Edmund.
“I am sure you are good at the game already,” Rose replied with a double meaning. “But I would be happy to do so, if we have the time.”
Rose wondered if Amelia saw her as a rival, or if she really was as sweet and innocent as she seemed. It was probably the latter, Rose thought. She was just making things difficult for herself and being envious that Amelia was suited to this life, as she thought in the correct way. Sometimes Rose wished she were different.
It would have made things easier.
The conversations continued around her. It was as though she were a celestial body and everything orbited her. Time became elastic, sometimes seeming as though everything was a blur, while other times it slowed to a crawl, and she wondered if this party would ever end.
Perhaps she would be trapped here forever, caught in this limbo where she was in the same room as Edmund but destined never to stand with him, never to acknowledge the feelings that were simmering in her heart.
“I apologize for my short absence. Lady Rose, Lord Bolton, Lady Bolton, I am glad you could join us,” Edmund said as he took his seat. He tucked his jacket beneath him and held his hand against his stomach as he made himself comfortable opposite Rose.
Rose straightened her posture and lifted her head, not wanting to reveal any sign that she was affected by her presence. However, she avoided meeting his gaze because his piercing, intense eyes could easily undo her.
“There is no need to apologize, Your Grace,” Thomas said. “We were just saying that we would like to host an event like this one day. It would not be so grand as yours, of course. Frankly, I don’t believe we know this many people,” Thomas added with a wry, self-deprecating humor. “But perhaps something more intimate would serve.”
“Just for our families,” Margaret said with a knowing look.
Rose’s throat became tight. She glanced at Edmund. He didn’t show any sign of guilt.
“That sounds wonderful. Most generous indeed,” he replied. How was it that lying came so easily to him? Had he been lying to her last night?
“Do you have any other events to delight us before we leave?” Thomas asked.
For a moment, Rose thought she saw annoyance flash across Edmund’s face. He recovered quickly, however.
“No, there shall be no more events after breakfast. I fear if I arranged anything else, then I might not be able to get rid of people,” Edmund chuckled.
“Oh, Edmund, you are wicked,” Agatha said, her voice trembling with laughter. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. At least this would all be over soon.
“If I am, it is only because I learned it from you, Grandmother,” he replied. But he wasn’t really wicked at all. He was far more complicated than that. Rose was still intrigued by him, but she knew him too well to be fooled by his words. She wondered if he was in as much anguish as she; if they were suffering so much and only they could know each other’s pain. It would be hidden from everyone else.
