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Chapter Four
There was an ugly dustup when Hilaria found out with whom Rosabel was driving that afternoon but thankfully, their mother dealt with the situation handily.
“There are thirty-one dukes in the realm, according to Debrett’s, Hilaria. If you are so determined to wed a coronet, you only need one. You needn’t begrudge one to your sister.”
“But hardly any of them are unwed, mother.”
“That is neither here nor there, Hilaria Sherton. If he had invited you, you would be the one going. But he did not. And I can assure you, your sister did nothing to deserve your ire. Would you have her refuse?” The tone of their mother’s voice as she asked the question let all in the vicinity know exactly how preposterous the countess considered the question.
Rosabel had been correct in her assumption that she would be in more trouble from her mother for refusing than with her sister for not. And truly, everyone was well aware that one did not refuse a duke in the first place. It was a rather rhetorical question. The good news was that aside from her misgivings about her sister and her own state of mind, Rosabel was looking forward to the afternoon. If nothing else, it would be diverting.
Those thoughts were jangling in the back of her mind when the duke was announced. Or rather his servant was announced.
“Good afternoon, my lady. His Grace would prefer not to keep his horses standing so, if you are ready now, he’d appreciate your company.”
Rosabel’s lips and eyebrows twitched. Being condescended to was a truly rare occurrence in the life of an earl’s daughter. The duke prized his animals more than her. What an odd circumstance.
“Well, aren’t his horses lucky that I am, in fact, ready?” The servant bowed at her words, ignoring her tone of sarcasm. The countess was not so forbearing.
“You behave yourself, Rosabel Sherton.”
Rosabel dipped a slight curtsy to her mother and sisters before she left the room, without bothering to say anything further. Now that the matter had been resolved with Hilaria, all her mental energy needed to be focused on the outing. She wasn’t sure if she felt completely prepared for the scrutiny that would accompany being in the company of a duke.
The servant handed her up into the duke’s curricle before jumping onto the back, and Wexford set his team in motion without a word.
Rosabel folded her hands in her lap and tried to present the most serene façade she could muster, despite the fact that she wanted to grab the seat edge and hold on for dear life. She held in her reaction as well as any other noise. If he couldn’t be bothered to greet her, she didn’t feel the need to do so either.
It took a supreme test of will for her to keep her gaze between one of the horse’s ears and a pleasant expression upon her face as they dodged the traffic and weaved their way toward the park. Finally, Wexford slowed the pace just before turning into the lane leading to the fashionable promenade area.
“You are very quiet, my lady,” he observed. Wexford’s deep voice made everything he uttered sound like a caress. Bel fought the tingle that accompanied his words.
“Am I?” Rosabel asked, amused by his wording. She could feel his glance before he steered his team onto a quieter lane. She didn’t return his gaze.
“Is something amiss?”
“What could possibly be amiss, Your Grace?” she countered, surprised by his sudden grin.
“I am again reminded that you are a strange creature, Lady Rosabel.”
“I am uncertain as to why you would reach that conclusion, Your Grace,” she returned mildly. “It might, perchance, be true, but I have done nothing strange this afternoon.”
“For one thing, most young ladies would have already filled my ear with any manner of nonsense about which social events they had attended or will be attending, not to mention some sort of detail about what they were wearing and who they had spoken to. There would also, no doubt, be mention of the weather. And that is all assuming they hadn’t already yelped at me about the pace of my team or some nonsense about the traffic.”
“And would you have preferred that?”
“Not in the least, but the fact that you didn’t do any of it makes you unique, to say the least.”
“Ah, now unique sounds ever so much better than strange.”
Wexford surprised her with a shout of laughter that he quickly controlled. He cast her an amused glance as he further slowed the team of horses. Bel was warmed by his appreciative expression.
“Did I offend you in some way, my lady?”
“Offend would be putting far too fine a point on it, but it generally is considered customary to greet one’s companion when they join one.” Bel kept her tone light and airy. She truly hadn’t been offended, as she accepted that dukes were not quite in the normal run of things.
Wexford laughed again, much to Rosabel’s surprise.
“It was remarkably ill bred of me, my lady, I do apologize. You are quite correct, and my nanny would have rapped my knuckles for such rudeness.”
