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“Interesting. Amazing how our ideals were framed by our friendships with commoners,” he remarked, sounding impressed. “Almost makes me wonder what our ideals would have been, if we didn’t have an Elsa or a Leonard in our lives, like the rest of Britain’s high society.”
“Well, if we are being honest, I think our ideals would have remained the same. The rest of the peerage do have Elsas and Leonards all around them. The difference between us and them is that they chose to ignore while we didn’t. It’s more a testament to who we are at our core than to the fact that we have an Elsa and a Leonard.”
He sighed in understanding of what she’d just said.
“What an amazing insight. I couldn’t agree more,” he said, still impressed with her grasp of the situation.
“Exactly, My Lord. We are the difference,” she said.
“My goodness! A lady who understands the issues of Britain as I do. Who would have thought?” His laugh and compliment caused her heart to melt. Suddenly she remembered why she’d asked him to meet her tonight in the first place.
Tell him Rose. Now is the time.
And still she stayed silent. If she was being honest, she wasn’t as scared of his reaction as the reality that she might actually lose him if she ever made the confession of her betrothal known to him.
What are the odds?
Her thoughts paused instantly. There was a new puzzle she needed to answer.
Love? Am I in love with Lord Walsrock?
She turned to look at him and found out that he had been looking at her.
“You are beautiful,” he said simply.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she found herself stammering.
“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” he apologized, misinterpreting her nervous stammer.
If anything, he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Instead, he stirred up a passion within her that she didn’t even know existed. Excited, discombobulated, nervous, he elicited all these reactions in her but none of them were uncomfortable.
“It didn’t make me uncomfortable,” she confessed, looking deep into his eyes.
For a moment, it seemed time itself had ceased to exist.
Is he going to kiss me?
She wondered as his lips parted slightly. To her amazement, she hoped he was going to kiss her.
Just as his head began moving down, Elsa materialized from the periphery of her vision.
“My Lady, someone is coming this way,” her lady’s maid announced nervously.
It took a fraction of a moment before what Elsa said registered in her mind.
“My goodness!” she exclaimed, as she unhooked her hand from that of the Marquess. “Who is it?” she queried, her dread returning and consuming her instantly.
“I do not know, My Lady,” Elsa had responded.
Turning to face the Marquess, she announced, “You have to leave now, My Lord.”
The fear that was etched on her face had definitely spurred him to action. He bent and kissed her hand.
“I love you, Lady Rose,” he said, letting go of her hand and causing her to catch her breath.
She turned as her ears picked up the sound of whoever Elsa had heard approaching. By the time she turned back, the Marquess of Walsrock had disappeared into the night.
“What are you doing out here?”
