Page 90 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“He was my husband, certainly. But before that...” Her mother smiled through gathering tears. “He was my very best friend.”

The words seemed to break something inside her. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, Mama...” Rosalind drew her gently into an embrace, holding her as the quiet sobs came.

“I miss him,” her mother whispered. “Every morning I wake expecting to hear his voice.”

“So do I.”

“I tell myself not to hope.”

Rosalind held her a little tighter. “I have not stopped.”

Her mother pulled back just enough to search her face. “You are still looking.”

“We all are,” Rosalind said softly. “Lord William is helping. His brother is helping. There are others making inquiries as well. We have not given up.”

She said nothing of the duchess's whispered rumor.

Not yet.

Until she knew it was true, she would not burden her mother with another fragile hope that might shatter by morning.

Her mother dabbed carefully at her eyes before reaching up to smooth an errant curl from Rosalind's forehead. “I am fortunate to have you.”

Rosalind smiled. “I believe I'm the fortunate one.”

A gentle sigh escaped her mother. “Come. I think we have both had enough excitement for one evening.”

Rosalind nodded. “I think so too.”

Together they turned back toward the house, climbing the broad stone steps leading to the terrace doors.

Rosalind paused only for a heartbeat.

Something had caught her eye.

Down in the gardens, beyond the last sweep of lantern light, a gentleman moved quickly between the clipped hedges. She saw little more than the outline of a broad-shouldered figure, but as he crossed a shaft of moonlight, the profile looked startlingly familiar.

The duke.

Her breath caught.

She took an instinctive step toward the balustrade, straining to see more, but the figure disappeared almost immediately behind a stand of yew trees.

“Mama?” she said, her attention still fixed upon the darkness below. “Would you wait here just a moment? I should like to bid Lord William goodnight before we leave.”

Her mother smiled knowingly. “Of course.”

Rosalind hurried back into the ballroom, the warmth and music enveloping her once again. Couples continued to glide effortlessly across the polished floor while conversations ebbed and flowed around the edges of the room. Her eyes searched the crowd until they found William near one of the marble columns.

Relief came first.

Then hesitation.

Lady Sophronia stood beside him, smiling brightly as she spoke, one gloved hand resting lightly upon his sleeve while he listened with the patient courtesy expected of any well-bred gentleman.

Rosalind slowed without meaning to.