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Two hundred pounds was a ridiculous amount of money. The duke had paid it, but he was one of the richest men in England. Xavier was the second son of the Earl of Brighton. He would never come into a title of his own. His father must provide him with a generous allowance.
With another two hundred pounds, Cameron wouldn’t have to worry about his mother and sisters for a year, or even two or three. He could go to London and make a name for himself in the musical world, knowing his loved ones were cared for. But to write a song for Rose, for another man to give to her? He’d sooner scoop out his heart with a pitchfork.
But Rose was only a dream. His family was reality, and the money would mean they could live better lives.
“You’ve convinced me, my lord,” he said. “I’ll require at least a quarter in advance.”
“Of course.”
“I assume time is of the essence?”
“Yes, I’d like it done by the solstice.”
“That’s little more than three weeks, my lord.”
“I know. Is it possible?”
“I suppose, but I can’t do a full orchestration in that amount of time. I can only arrange it for the pianoforte.”
“That’s perfect,” Evan said. “Rose loves the pianoforte, as you most likely know.”
“Yes,” he said dryly, “I know.”
“Very well then, Price.” Evan rose and held out his hand.
Cameron shook it, his large long-fingered hand dwarfed by Evan’s ham-sized one.
“I’ll see myself out.”
“Good day, my lord.” Cameron sank down onto the sofa, running his fingers over the worn satin brocade. What the hell have I done to myself?
* * * *
The next day Rose went riding. Although her two mares were still in Hampshire, the duke had a stable full of beauties, including
Begonia, a mare he’d bought for Lily. When Begonia was saddled, Rose mounted and took off down the southern trail.
Rose kept Begonia to a trot for a bit to warm her up, moved her into a canter, and then a full-blown gallop. She diverged a little from the trail to check out the duke’s jumping course. Rose adored jumping, but she hadn’t tried this particular course before. She looked over it carefully, decided she could handle it, and proceeded. The jumps got progressively harder, but Rose managed them expertly, the pins falling from her hair as she and Begonia leaped into the air again and again. By the time she had completed the course, her hair was falling over her shoulders and neck. She laughed aloud and patted Begonia’s black mane.
Finding the trail once again, Rose and Begonia trotted past the fairy garden, where she and Evan had shared their first kiss—Rose’s first kiss ever. Dear Evan. He had kissed her and asked if he could court her. Giddiness had consumed her that day. Evan was a good man, a man who would take care of her always. She considered herself lucky. Perhaps they would never have the passion or the ease with each other that Lily and Daniel shared, but that type of relationship was rare.
Rose continued riding, enjoying the lush green of the countryside in spring. She breathed in the fresh air. When she came to a small stream, she stopped so Begonia could drink. Rose pinned up her riding habit and looked around while Begonia quenched her thirst. She didn’t recognize the scenery and hoped she could find her way back to the main house. Deciding to let Begonia rest for a while, Rose sat under a tree and closed her eyes. Her thoughts hammered in her head, as she recalled her first kiss with Evan in the fairy garden.
Evan led Rose through a small winding path, picking blooms and handing them to her until she had a small bouquet, and then placed one behind her ear. “There,” he said. “You look just like a fairy princess.”
Rose laughed. “A fairy princess in a brown riding habit.”
“My lady, you would be devastating in anything.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Won’t you use my Christian name?” Evan asked. “It would mean a great deal to me.”
“I’m afraid it’s not proper, my lord.”
“Lybrook and your sister use each other’s names. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lybrook quite so animated as he has been today with her.”
“My lord, they’re just…good friends. Neither His Grace nor my sister are interested in courtship.”
